New Year’s Eve Loser

I’m at an age where I’m finally comfortable admitting I’ve never had an exciting New Year’s Eve. Even in my younger days I was a in my pajamas and usually asleep right after midnight kind of person. I know, I know, it sounds a little sad and a lot lame but the couple of times I was pushed out of my NYE comfort zone it just made all those times that I stayed home wearing my flannel jammies seem amazing.

Honestly, my idea of hell would be ringing in the New Year in Times Square. Primarily because one of the top three requirements for any experience I partake of is access to a marginally decent restroom. So, the fact that there are no public restrooms for the more than one million people who show up to “celebrate” immediately makes it a never going to happen while I’m still breathing scenario.  

I think I could be a New Year’s grump because I also have an ardent dislike of New Year’s resolutions. After some deep introspection I know this is because I have no memory of ever being successful at any resolution and I’m not alone. A recent study showed that most people have thrown in the towel on their New Year resolutions by January 19th.

This should make me feel better about myself but the people who hung on to their resolutions till the 19th probably made it a good 10 days longer than I ever did. I could be, I don’t know, ashamed, maybe even embarrassed about this fact, but instead I’ve decided to make some 2023 resolutions that I know I can keep. (This means there will be no mentions of losing weight or organizing my basement so it’s resplendent with clear acrylic bins labeled and lined up in alphabetical order according to contents.)

My first resolution is a vow to always have a dog in my life. Humans are okay, but dogs are perfection. And yes, I know cats are also awesome and I truly love my cat. But cats have a lot in common with a teenage girl. I feel like I’m being constantly judged and found lacking.

Next up is that I will never embrace the current charcuterie board 2.0 trend. I’m a charcuterie board purist and the fact that there are now “butter boards” and “frosting boards” is blasphemy.

Taking butter and smearing it on a board and then lining up assorted bread and crackers to drag through the butter is disturbing to me. Have we all of sudden lost the ability to wield a knife and butter bread like a civilized person?

As for the frosting boards – God help us all. Piling mounds of frosting on a board so you can slather buttercream on assorted baked goods is the gateway drug to excessive gluttony. You might as well just put a mixing bowl of frosting on the table with some spoons or I don’t know make an actual cake.

Resolution number three is to never darken the door of a cosmetic dermatology office or med spa again in my life. I realize it’s their job to scare you, sorry I meant, sort of, politely tell you, that you could benefit from some upgrades in your appearance. But I’m still processing being told I need a facelift. You’ll see me celebrating New Year’s Eve in Times Square wearing a “Stadium Gal” portable urinal kit before that happens.

Trust me I’ve got more resolutions than you have time to read and I think never mentioning “portable urinal kit” again is now my fourth resolution. So, I’m going to end my list and wish you a happy 2023 that’s hopefully butter and frosting board free. 🎉🥂🎊


If you’ve made a New Year’s resolution to read more books (and yay for that) I’d like to introduce you to the Snarky family of super fun reads. 😍

Empty is a “laugh till you cry” menopausal revenge adventure. Back to School is a hysterical read for any mom whose experienced elementary school parent drama. Trouble in Texas is a tall tale of what happens when a daughter lets her septuagenarian mom enlist her in a wild scheme that could end up with both of them in jail. And Four Seasons of Snarky is full of short stories (perfect for the person who doesn’t have much time to read) that feature tales of suburban revenge.  Please click this Amazon link for to experience the fabulousness.