does anyone know what it's supposed to mean when you dream about teeth?

Last year my resolution was to work on my posture. I'd have to say I didn't succeed. Well, I guess it's a little better than it was. But only when I remember. This year, I can't seem to muster up the will to come up with a good resolution. There's stuff I gotta do (being less mentally unstable would probably be a step in the right direction), especially with this being the year I assert my adult independence and start living the dream--which, I hardly need add, will be blogged about in annoyingly angsty detail. Sorry.

Alright, now this might sound like a pretty dumb idea, but maybe I should resolve to do more things that I suspect I will later regret. You know, take risks. Carpe diem. I'm just thinking that I'm rapidly running out of time to do absolutely retarded things and pass them off as youthful indiscretions. If I have to slap myself in the face every now and then, well, so be it. I have pages in my memoirs to fill, after all.

That doesn't precisely fit in with the whole, less mentally unstable thing.

Anyway, speaking of mental instability (haha, I jest! I just needed to segue), here's some reading material for the bored amongst you. If you read the selection of "Things I shouldn't have said," be prepared to be concerned about how many of them are about pooping. Anal fixation, Mr Lynn?

Also, it's been up for awhile, but here's a Christmas letter that my dearest Jowie penned for the seasonal cheer of us all. It's full of damn lies, but really, what holiday newsletter isn't? Hmm... it occurs to me that I never got a look at the one Mother sent out this year. Well, I graduated from university, which hopefully earned me enough points to get away with coasting for the rest of 2006. And I didn't do anything that required hardcore glossing, although waitressing doesn't sound VERY good as a post-grad career.

By the way, JoTo, I remembered while we were in the midst of riffing on Jesus being a bad dinner guest that I never told you that Katie and James' dad is getting his Masters of Divinity to become a minister. Er. Chalk that up on the list of things WE shouldn't have said. Why can I never hold my tongue around the religious authorities? I think one of the most awkward moments for 2006 was when my great aunt the nun suggested that I enter a convent. Self-deprecatingly and charmingly (or so I hoped), I laughed that they would never take me. She blinked and asked why. I defy even the most steely-balled of you to look at five feet of be-habited religious conviction (who, furthermore, has your mother's phone number) and explain that your loose morals and atheism would prevent you from choosing "bride of Christ" as your vocation.