Monday, January 02, 2006

Happy New Year!

The Merriam-Webster Dictionary describes the word "Resolution" in the following manner:

1 : the act or process of reducing to simpler form: as a : the act of analyzing a complex notion into simpler ones b : the act of answering : SOLVING c : the act of determining d : the passing of a voice part from a dissonant to a consonant tone or the progression of a chord from dissonance to consonance e : the separating of a chemical compound or mixture into its constituents f (1) : the division of a prosodic element into its component parts (2) : the substitution in Greek or Latin prosody of two short syllables for a long syllable g : the analysis of a vector into two or more vectors of which it is the sum h : the process or capability of making distinguishable the individual parts of an object, closely adjacent optical images, or sources of light.

Huh?? Ummm....yeah. That is just way to confusing, but that's not why I swore off New Year's resolutions. If I resolve to lose weight, I will be bigger by June. If I resolve to quit smoking, I'll be up to 3 packs a day by August. I'm just one of those people. Stubborn and bull headed. Now, if you were to tell me that I would die in 3 months unless I took these pills, I'd take the pills. If you told me I had to take the pills or I would die, start the funeral preparations. I don't have to do anything. Yes, it seriously is that bad. Yes, it is retarded. I take direction well. I don't take orders worth a damn. Military was definitely never in my future.

Take for example, my early relationship with my dad. My dad believed in corporal punishment. He spanked us when we did wrong but he never took it too far. Now, he spanked my 2 older brothers well into their teens. He quit spanking me when I was 5-years-old. Not because I was his Little Princess, although I am, but because he was afraid he was gonna kill me. See, the boys had it down. Daddy spanked us until we cried because he felt if we cried, we realized we had done something wrong and he would give us time to calm down then have "the chat." (I hated that shit too. I always felt it was throwing mistakes back in my face.) The boys would let him get a good 2 or 3 swats in and then "burst into tears." They would then go to their rooms for a few minutes, then come out and apologize. Apologize! Brown-nosers.

Anyway, my brothers explained the system to me over and over. They didn't want me to die unless they got to do it themselves, and watching the battle between me and my dad was taxing on everyone in the household. Now, let me interject here that it was a rare occasion that I got a spanking. I was one of those kids that felt disappointing an adult was the worst thing that could happen. If you wanna be mad at me, fine. If you hate me, fine. If you're disappointed in me I'm crushed. So when I messed up, all you had to was tell me I had let you down and I would bend over backwards to fix it. Spanking me is downright dumb as hell. I was already upset. I always felt there was no need to add to it because nothing could make me feel worse than I was already feeling, so spankings really pissed me off.

Now, picture if you will, a little blond girl (cute as hell, I might add), quick to laugh, painfully polite to adults and thought Shirley Temple was the epitome of what all good little girls should be. Not a picture of rebellion, right? Yeah. Until I got bent over a knee. Then I would hear my brothers saying in my mind, "Angie, just cry! He'll stop as soon as you cry." Pfffft. I would not cry for him. In fact, not only would I not cry, I always took it one step too far. I turned my head and glared at him the entire time. I never said a word, I just glared. Which made him mad enough to actually hit harder. Which made me glare harder. This was a very vicious cycle. I remember my mom slapping my dad once to make him stop. I was the only one who ever made him lose it that bad. And I never cried during spankings. I always cried once I got to my room, but never in front of anyone. I really am that damn stubborn stupid stubborn.

Which brings us back around to why I don't do New Year's resolutions. I always break them. I guess subconsciously it feels like being told what to do. Yeah, it's silly and I psychoanalyze myself every time I do it. Anywho, so no resolutions for me. Ok, that took forever to get to, didn't it. Do you guys have any resolutions for the new year? Any of you have any strange psychotic reasons for not making resolutions? Any of you think I should seek therapy for many, many years to come?

Ya know, this post was supposed to be about things I learned over the last year. It turned into this. Who'da thunk?

Hope everyone has a great day year!

*Update: I guess it was inevitable. I have a Frapper Map. I was suckered into it somehow. I am merely a sheep following blindly behind. Go put in a pin before you sheer me and turn me into a sweater.

2 comments:

Christina said...

So what would happen if you picked one you'd do anyways? Like "crochet more" or something?

Mine last year was "knit more". This year it's "learn to use the new knitting machine better". I'm so creative ;)

Anonymous said...

I'm the same way, though perhaps not as bad. I'm happy to do whatever needs doing, until you tell me that I have to. My gut reaction is always "What...or you'll take away my birthday?" Stubborn, yes, but it's always enlightening to think about what we really have to do versus what people think we should do.