What do you mean, it’s 2023? Didn’t we just change millennia?
But if we’re going to be delusional, let’s take it all the way: Didn’t The Beatles just arrive from Britain?
Unfortunately, reality refuses to go away. I should believe the mirror and get down to the important — and now, bearable — business of making New Year’s resolutions.
Years ago, I revolutionized this prickly process by making only resolutions I could keep. A 100-percent success rate has confirmed my process’s validity. So, with confidence — and not a little smugness — I present:
Rachael’s Resolutions for 2023
First, I resolve not to embrace the Liver Diet.
I will add another size to my black pants collection. Probably not a smaller size.
Continuing the clothing theme: I will leave ink pens only in wash loads that include my husband’s best shirts.
I will lose 23 of my husband’s left socks. And zero of mine.
In 2023, I promise not to buy a Tibetan mastiff puppy for 1.9 million dollars, as one dog lover did. Hubby, not a canine devotee even when it’s free, breathes easier.
His mood improves further when I resolve to root against the New England Patriots, LA Lakers, Kentucky Wildcats, and St. Louis Cardinals during 2023. Forever and ever.
I will not attend Punxsutawney Phil’s arrival in full ball dress — even if he and his groundhog buddies are wearing tails.
Next summer, I promise to eat three cherry Popsicles® with real sugar.
I will clear the dining room table in 2023. When in-laws visit.
However, I refuse to disturb dust in my living room. Why disrupt an archaeological wonder in the making?
Ditto for four nonfunctional boom boxes and the garage bulging with 1980s computer equipment.
I resolve to pray for drivers who cut me off: “God, please bless my interstate enemy — and protect everyone in his path. By the way, could You also dismantle his transmission?”
I resolve to yell at my computer more than I yell at people.
That smile crinkles will outnumber frown wrinkles.
Whew. That last goal appears impossible.
Unless I also resolve to ruin someone’s bad day with kindness. Every. Chance. I. Get.
Together, those final two resolutions may blow my 100 percent success record. But don’t you think it’s worth it?
Your Extraordinary Ordinary: What resolutions will you make for 2023?
OMG, It’s Monday! Prayer: No-Temptation Birthday Cake. O Lord, thank You that this pineapple upside-down cake turned out well for my husband’s birthday. And OMG, thank You that though it is his favorite, I can walk away from this cake without a pang.
My summer dieting resolutions have proved as successful as last January’s, despite my good intentions.
Daylight saving time is more conducive to exercise, I said. I’d shed winter weight like a parka.
Summer gardens produce tons of fresh veggies. Fruit, a nutritious food that actually tastes good, abounds. Easier to eat skinny, right?
I implemented self-scare tactics: Beaches would sound a bloat-float warning upon my arrival.
Other aids would help my effort. Spending hours in endless construction zones would create a slow burn, turning calories to ashes.
Plus, the stars were in weight-loss alignment. Stars or satellites? Not sure. I’m not picky about astronomy.
I did consume fresh veggies. Also, berries, cherries, peaches and watermelon. And, um, ice cream.
Come on, I live three blocks from Ivanhoe’s, a legendary drive-in touted by The Huffington Post as Indiana’s contribution to “The One Thing You Must Do in Every State.” True Hoosiers don’t live by broccoli alone.
To my credit, I exercised. Dragged along — er, encouraged — by Hubby, I hiked miles across rugged terrain. We paddled lakes, cycled bike paths and, despite bloat-float warnings, frequented beaches. We even swam in the water.
Given those “vacations,” would you choose half a bagel for breakfast?
Also, even the word “s’mores” forbids limiting me to one.
As for swimming — beach alarm aside — possessing a built-in inner tube isn’t a bad thing. When out-of-shape arms don’t keep one afloat, fat to the rescue! Safety first, I always say.
Besides, the holidays are three months away. Cooler weather will encourage exercise. As temperatures fall, so will my ice cream intake. Really.
Also, plenty of road construction remains to burn off excess calories.
Baggy sweaters will hide my summer-acquired inner tube, lessening motivation to diet. But fear not. I’ve created new scare tactics.
Shopping trips with dressing room mirrors always diminish my appetite.
Even better (worse?): the yearly checkup. I plan to share my innovative medical theory with my doctor. Doesn’t it make sense that we who carry more years should outweigh the young, who carry only a few? I’ll inform her the stars are in weight-loss alignment during autumn. She shouldn’t be picky about astronomy.
I’ll promise that now it’s fall, I’ll drop pounds like trees shed leaves.
Besides, there’s always January.
Your Extraordinary Ordinary: Is it harder to lose weight during hot or cold months?
O Lord, another spectacular sunrise! Amid glorious sherbet-colored clouds, the butter-cake sun shines through dark-chocolate trees … um, sorry, Jesus, dieting is getting to me. But viewing Your generous artistry day after day — OMG, where do we funny little people get off, thinking You aren’t Love?
New Year’s resolution diet isn’t going well. Yours?
wonder. According to weight loss gurus, we should never diet when under stress.
We should have postponed until a kind genie shoveled our driveways, thawed
frozen pipes and freed us from snow days with kids who act like us.
no-o-o-o, we announced to spouses, relatives, Facebook friends and Australian
Twitter pals that we intended to lose X number of pounds.
celebrities often tout advanced diet alternatives. Critics point out these
people, habitually in rehab and/or kidnapped by aliens, might not prove health
experts. But they are thin.
Therefore, we must take their advice and adopt the following:
Grapefruit Oil Diet. Instead of eating grapefruit, a dieter sniffs a vial of grapefruit oil before meals. The aroma fires up her liver, burning away every trace of the three Moose Tracks Sundaes she ate. Some report even better results from smelling skunk oil, but I’m not that desperate … yet.
Salmon Diet. Eating salmon
three times a day combats inflammation, the alleged source of all health
problems. It also exchanges the eater’s decrepit body for a young one,
including a flashy facelift. Love the idea. But does it sound a little fishy?
Baby Food Diet. Mmm, strained
turkey and beet dinners. An extra 200 calories are burned per meal if the
dieter makes airplane sounds.
Lemonade Diet. Participants
drink a mixture of lemon juice, cayenne pepper and maple syrup exclusively for
10 days. This liquid diet completely cleanses a body of toxins.*
*The toxins run away screaming. This diet was carried out on a closed course by a professional. Do not attempt at home.
dieters, without messy surgeries or loss of vital organs, practice some form of
the Amputation Diet before weigh-ins.
We clip nails, get haircuts, and remove clothing, jewelry, contact lenses/glasses
and birthmarks before stepping on scales. In addition, Amputation Diet
enthusiasts claim a loss of 10-25 pounds in one day if you don’t mind losing a
we can retain our arms, yet remain on diets, if we plan carefully. Try a
different diet every day of the month. How can this help? Most diets include a
“splurge day.” Schedule 30 splurge days of 30 different diets, and you will
never feel deprived.
Exercise is given far too much
emphasis. Watching other people
exercise, on the other hand, prevents injuries.
Every dieter should collect helpful
books, including Virtual Calories and
Meditate Away Your Fat Cells.
The websites were right. Since adopting
this new approach, I find dieting a “fun, wonderful, educational journey.” One problem:
I couldn’t zip my jeans this morning.
that diet genie when I need him?
Your Extraordinary Ordinary: What diet tip can