My New Year's resolution? To be more positive. More optimistic. More don't-look-now-but-holy-hell-my-glass-is-half-full.
Bear with me, this is gonna be tougher than going without a crumb of food for 10 days.
Ready? Here goes. I'm open to the idea of Wade Phillips returning as Dallas Cowboys' head coach, assuming they beat the Philadelphia Eagles Saturday night in Arlington. I loved The Blind Side and am willing to see Youth in Revolt despite the presence of wet-bread whiny-ass Michael Cera. And I'll watch TCU in the Fiesta Bowl tonight even though it doesn't matter even a little bitty bit in college football's grandiose photo.
How amiable am I these days? For New Year's I conformed to a costume party, dressing up as a Jeffery Sebelia character from a BravoTV show I'd never seen. So there.
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Some things I just can't let slide. Like for example, the billboard on 183 I saw on Saturday that claims Santa Claus was a devout follower of Jesus Christ. Yeppers. Swear.
Again - ahem - to be positive, my whole life I've been a more on-than-off-again believer that prays and hopes and tries and ... been skeptical of I Am Second. Now, it's official. I'm out. Ridiculous.
In other, sorta related news, I feel that if you are indeed a female, it's high time you promptly halt with the speaking and climb onto my steed. In other words, shut up woman get on my horse.