Resolutions

I don't usually make New Year's resolutions. But this year I did and have already broken them.
So I'm watching Bridget Jones's Diary last night, and it got me to thinking about resolutions again. (Specifically from her quote- "Resolution number one: Obviously will lose twenty pounds. Number two: Equally important, will find sensible boyfriend to go out with and not continue to form romantic attachments to any of the following: alcoholics, workaholics, commitment phobics, peeping toms, megalomaniacs, emotional fuckwits or perverts.")

Now I don't want to lose 20 pounds. (I like beer too much and I'm pretty much ok with how I look). And while her second resolution is vaguely applicable, I will say that my resolution is to stop breaking my phone.

I don't get angry very easily. But when I do, I don't shout. I don't scream and rant. (I'm loud already) I don't punch walls (ouch!) Or people (illegal). I don't break dishes (such a waste!) and I don't throw clothes out on the lawn (because I don't have a lawn.) I handle most disagreements and arguments with a good amount of maturity I like to think.

However, I do one thing- I throw my phone. Not at anyone, just down. And it breaks. I guess I'm strong. Also, I'm throwing with the arm that sustained 8 years of fast pitch in high school and college softball.

Said throwings are usually in response to a bad conversation or text message, or even the lack of a message when one is desperately needed or wanted. Yes I realize that this contradicts my declaration of maturity previously mentioned, but shut up, you're not perfect either.
So poor mr. phone was thrown last night. It still 'works', but now I can't see who is calling, what time it is, or if I have a message. This worries me because if you-know-who calls, now I won't know whether to answer it or not. And I can't figure out how program it to where I have to press "send" or some other button to actually be able to pick up the call.

Please don't mistake me for some wild-eyed crazy phone thrower. And please do not report me to the AT&T police. This is only the second time it's happened, and I promise baby, it's the last. I hate myself for having done it. I'm just going to tell my friends that mr. phone accidentally tripped and fell down the stairs again. They believed it last time.

Now we won't get into what set me off to where mr. phone took the brunt of my frustration.. But must find another way to vent. I would do yoga or pilates, but then I'd have to kick my own ass for joining that crowd. My friend Brent says I should take up hittin' the bong, but gasoline fumes are the only thing I want clogging up my lungs and giving me consumption. Other people say do meditation and chants, but sitting in a lotus flower position I think is honestly one of the few things that would eventually make me blow my brains out. My boss said get a Self Help book, but I won't do that on the principle that the genre is an oxymoron. I think George Carlin said this- but a book telling you how to help your self is not 'self help'. It's help! Others said just to hit the sauce more. I'm seriously considering that one.. ;)

I suppose I could buy padding for my floor and walls to protect mr. phone from breaking, but I think anyone who came to my house and saw padded walls would sigh, shake their head and say "figures." And then they wouldn't be my friend anymore.

Additional to that, a second resolution would be to stay away from MySpace when I am mad and/or drunk. This is how you know it's the 21st century kids-- gone are the classic times where boys and girls would go to the drug store and share a soda with two straws and then go clubbing with their friends later and drunk dial their exes. I dominated the drunk texting phenomenon. Dabbled in drunk emailing (luckily both of which were usually too illegible to actually get me in any sort of trouble). Seriously considered drunk smoke signaling. Now it's the drunk MySpace blog postings. Cripes. These usually only happen when I am angry and have had a few (like the other night), but for fear of alienating Tom or prospective new friends, I think I shall refrain from those from now on. I don't like to be angry and I don't like to sound angry- it's unbecoming and contradicts my smiley default picture. And God forbid someone see them and tell my father the language I'm using. He'd bring Father Karras over and do an exorcism. Wait.. Father Karras died at the end of the Exorcist... Well James Woods from the Scary Movie version then. That'd be sweet.

So those are my resolutions- 1) stop throwing mr. phone. 2) stop drunkMyspacing. I'm willing to take bets on how long both of these will last. I'll give you 3 to 1 odds.