Ah, the new year is upon us: time to look back on everything we’ve done for the last year, shake our heads, and hope we’ll show better judgement next year. We make ourselves promises we don’t intend to keep about eating less, exercising and sleeping more, and about generally being better people (in a vague, non-committal sort of way without really specifying what we mean by “better” or how exactly we intend to get there). I hate resolutions; I was sorta hoping the Mayans would have been right about their Sun Gods descending to rain judgement upon us before we got around to ringing in the new year. I mean, sure, it might have meant a fiery Apocalypse filled with death and destruction, but at least I wouldn’t have to look myself in the mirror and call myself a liar each time I don’t squeeze in that extra workout per week. Hey, small sacrifices. Or maybe big sacrifices? Probably sacrificial rites with lots of altars and chanting and ripping out your enemy’s still-beating heart. I don’t really know. I’m a drag queen, not a scholar of Mayan religious practices.
This year I decided to make different resolutions. None of the typical losing weight, being better to my body type of junk that most people go in for. I’m already working on it, in my own unorganized, sloppy, drunken way, and there’s nothing about hanging up a new calendar that will encourage me to take it any more seriously. Besides, I’ve always been a bit of a hedonist; denying myself pleasure is not in my skill set. What’s the point? Those skinny whores who say stupid shit like “Nothing tastes as good as being thin feels” are usually two seconds away from gnawing their own arms off while waiting for their Lean Cuisine to heat up in the microwave. No thanks.
No, my resolutions are going to be about being more authentic. Not better or worse, however we might measure that, but more real. More genuine. Even, sometimes, more vulnerable. I know, I know: I’m falling back into that self help-y “hug and cry and learn and grow” talk that I was so fond of this past year. What can I say? I’m getting older, and hopefully a little wiser. Who knows, I might even break with long-standing tradition and turn a year older this January. I mean, how long can one keep up the guise of being a fresh-faced 21-year-old? (13 years and counting…)
I just want to have more honesty in my life. Too much time is wasted talking around the ways we are thinking and feeling. Let’s cut through that and get right to the point. “Does this dress make me look fat?” Of course not. My huge ass makes me look fat. The dress just makes it look decorated. This is real life, not A Few Good Men and I can handle to truth. If you have something to say, then say it to me. But make sure it’s worth my time and yours. That’s another part of this new authenticity: I’m letting go of as much drama as I possibly can. Don’t like me? Then don’t join my fan club, bitch! Any more questions? We don’t have to have an Oprah moment, cry it out and try to find out what the fuck is wrong. Maybe we just don’t mesh. I’m interested to see how much of my time I can get back by not giving a shit when some two-cent heifer gets in my face with some big story about what this person is doing or what that person thinks of me or whatever new story is making the rounds. It’s sort of like “Don’t Sweat the Small Stuff” but with more naughty words.
I’m ready for 2013 to be a year of growth and change. I thought that’s what I was doing last year, but I was too busy rebuilding and mending and fixing (and also just surviving) that I never really got to the change part. Not the real stuff. Sure, I changed addresses, but the insides were still the same. And the emotional is the same as the physical: the hard part is the unpacking.
So let’s get to it. Let’s resolve that this will be the year that we stop giving in to the drama (or causing it – you know who you are!) and instead give in to the wonder. Let’s find more things that make us gasp, or smile, or laugh out loud, and fewer things that make us frown. Let’s have more sex, and let’s go on more dates. Let’s hold ourselves to a higher standard, and forgive ourselves if we don’t always make it. It’s not about judging. Let’s do less of that. Let’s replace it with discovering: something new, something unexpected, maybe even our limits, and what’s beyond them. Let’s read a really good book and eat some really good food. Let’s decide that there is nothing wrong with pleasure.
That’s what I plan to do with 2013. How about you?
Tags: 22, Don't Sweat The Small Stuff, drama queens, end of the year, hedonism, Janessa, Janessa J, Janessa J Champagne, Janessa Jaye, Janessa Jaye Champagne, mayan apocalypse, new years, pleasure, resolutions, Taylor Swift, vulnerability