This is going to be one of those tedious resolution lists that everyone is doing at the moment... check back later to find out if today was the day of the injury.
Accompanied by Bear, book and notepaper, I sat at the bar of Earls and studied the menu. A chap on the opposite end of the bar stared at me intently, I don't think he blinked once the entire time I was there.
I had determined to write down my resolutions for the new year - every other journal seems to be doing it, and one of my resolutions is going to be 'follow the crowd'; striking out on one's own is overrated. Looking at the pint of dark coloured liquid in front of me, resolution number one was simple:
"Quit alcohol"
I have zero self control and rarely manage to steer a course anywhere but to self destruction where alcohol is concerned. Moderation just isn't an option. Tried it and failed.
"Cut out red meat"
I like red meat. Red meat doesn't like me. Enough said. This could well be the first step toward vegetarianism, with the added bonus that it would really annoy my father.
"Cut back on sugar"
Damn, if I don't like chocolate. And chocolate likes my waistline, judging by the stubborness with which it hangs around there.
"Make the first move"
What can I say? I've agonised about this at length in the past. How one overcomes an almost crippling shyness is something to think about.
"Redesign the journal"
Yeah, in three months time I'll hardly be 'Newly' anymore will I? So, do I kill the thing off completely or attempt a redesign. I've got three months to think about it.
I put my notepaper away, paid the check and headed out into the frigid air. I fought the urge to go into to the 'Down Under' bar and correct their poster: "Don't come in if your shy" - the word should be "you're" - apostrophes rock, darling.
Time for snow and ice. The photo? One of the library of bear-related imagery amassed over my time in Whistler. Shame I can't upload the one with all the cute girls...
