2015: From Getting Laid, to Getting Laid Off

A.K.A The 5 Commandments of 2016

Written while listening to: Hummed Low – Odessa

When I started 2015 covered in my best friend’s puke while yacking my guts into a plastic bag? I knew it was gonna be one hell of a year.

I’m not even gonna try to make this not sound like stoner logic, but technically, years as we think of them don’t exist. They’re one part celestial movement around the sun, one part human construct. Hell, the days of the week and the fact that “Wednesday” has a “d” in it forever dooming it to be a typo-word is human construct.

Maybe it’s the effort to avoid an existential crisis that turned NYE into an excuse to get trash-heap wasted until you ruin Fireball and Bailey’s Irish Cream for yourself…true story.

2015 was…big. I lost my virginity, got a raise at my job, got laid off from that job. I became a contributor for HelloGiggles and TheMarySue, and started podcasting. I got the world’s sweetest revenge on my previous employer by getting my incredible current job. I ran 6 miles, I went to Mexico and swam with whale sharks. I got freakin’ abs and started on Lexapro. I got my first surprise dick pic, forever giving me Snapchat PTSD.

But in looking back at the big things that happen in a year, we also need to look at the not-so-great crap. Which is why I’m doing Anti-Resolutions, a.k.a stuff that I won’t be doing in 2016. I call them my 5 commandments of 2016. Mostly because I wanted an excuse to say “Thou Shalt Not” over and over again.

Call me Ishmael…Ishmael, why didn’t you call back. LET ME LOVE YOU (NOAA)

Thou Shalt Not Love

In the words of the classic five star film 27 Dresses, “Love is patient, love is kind…love is slowly losing your mind.”

While I’ll never regret actually kinda liking that movie, I will regret what I let love do to me this year. From obsessing over the one that got away in the winter, to letting my self-esteem depend on the hot and cold affection of my own personal white whale when winter gave way to spring, this obsession with love and regret had me by the lady-balls.

But in 2016 I plan on Captain Ahab-ing the shit outta love by expecting nothing from it. I’m kicking the habit of being a hopeless romantic by cutting out the sexpectations and, instead, just living my life. I’ve always been a sucker for those “we bumped into each other in the hall and our eyes met” or “we met on the train” stories. Meanwhile, I know someone who met her boyfriend on the train. He’s a grade-A D-bag.

Bae.

Thou Shalt Not Binge

*Note: Netflix bingeing doesn’t count lol youuu got jokes

Last year I also got into the fun little habit of overindulgence. Whether it’s wine or cake, I’ve been overdoing it a bit. I say “let them eat cake”…but only in moderation.

Literally my life. ‘Cept with less cookie dough.

Thou Shalt Not Let Thou’s Imagination Runeth Astray

Similarly to the whole THOU SHALT NOT LOVE thing, the one killer of a good time is having expectations. I’m a writer, I’m creative. I have a habit of imagining how a situation or conversation should go, then being disappointed when it doesn’t go as planned. Quit the planning; start improvising and “yes, and-ing” life.

“Wreck it Ralph” gets it, man.

Thou Shalt Not Hate Thyself

*Note: Full disclosure, I have no idea if I’m using these thous, shalts, and thees right or not.

You could say I let men have control of my heart, mind, and self-esteem this year. But really, I did that to myself. To expect someone to hurt me is to expect that I’m the kind of person who deserves that. Let’s not.

Life goals: be Ruby Rose’s abs (entscoop)

Thou Shalt Not Stop Going to Ye Olde Gym

Because I haven’t worked out for three months, had killer abs-not-flab, and because this is just an obligatory thing on any resolution list, be it resolutions or anti-resolutions.

The years are just a way we keep track of our time here. I’m not sure that keeping track of the years makes them pass by faster or slower, makes our lives seem faster or like mere blips of existence.

But I do know that we can use NYE as an awesome night we’ll never remember or a night where we actually reflect on our lives and figure out what we can cleanse our palette of to become better imperfect beings.

Cheers to you, 2015.