can't see the line, can you russ?

we, the family, had decided initially to take a trip in lieu of giving gifts this year. unfortunately, due to family illness/mayhem, we are reverting to capitalist square one. which is fine with me. only: i'm still getting over feelings of entitlement. say, nick lachey* is never leaving vanessa manillo in order to show up at my house with a red-bowed golden retriever puppy...like, i know that rationally. and i'm never going to come into several hundred thousand dollars from an aunt no one knew we had who sees the potential in me--only me--so that i can buy that old farm house and fix it up, all while completing a book of essays and two collections of poems (my shirtless lover chopping wood in the pines).

the question is, of course, what manageable gifts would we like to receive or give to ourselves (these double as new year's resolutions)?

1. hand-knitted purple fingerless mittens--skeert!! my student's mom already made me some.
suckers.

2. my gift to hannah is a promise. and you can make a promise, if it's one that you can keep. i vow to come to you if you wait for me... sorry, sorry. i heart tracy chapman. anyway, i vow to be supportive of her as she goes through "the change."

3. read all of harold bloom's genius. just yesterday i got through the preface and introduction.

4. write 5 hours a week. (i realize this might not seem like a lot of writing time to some of you more dedicated, less waitressing people.)

5. see more live music. period. i fell off this year.

6. lose 7 pounds via rebel, the school trainer (her real name...she's an anomaly: mother, bad ass, lover of tae bo in 2007)

7. keen hiking boots and new fleece jacket

8. now, when i say "get right with the lord," i'm only half trying to mortify hannah. story: yesterday, on our sunday drive to seneca to eat lunch with carlyle's godfather, i'm talking a mile a minute, reading the new york times magazine, yelling something about mike huckabee and global warning standards, when carlyle says, "have you ever thought about doing yoga?"

while the idea of meditation or centeredness of any kind makes me laugh like a crazy person and systematically peel yellow paint from the wall, it might be good for me. us. the both of the us's.

9. cook more. eat out less.

10. the next time carlyle comes to my house with two rented movies, one of them paris, je t'aime and the other black snake moan, i will not clap excitedly about seeing christina ricci chained to a radiator while tossing the one that swept sundance to the floor.

your turn, abrams.

*why doesn't crazy affect famous women as well? by that i mean, how do they get away with it? so, jessica simpson is dating tony romo for, like, a week. and yesterday, she shows up at the cowboys game WITH HER DAD and WEARING A JERSEY WITH A PINK NUMBER 9 ON IT. if he does not dump her TO DAY, i'll be floored.

*also, we went to a dinner party saturday and drank these lethal yet amazing cocktails:

BULLS:
rum
negra modelo
triple sec
fresh squeezed limes
(over ice) mmmmmmmmmmmmm.