i am over it…
Aside from the fact that I refuse to back up my iPhone and computer and then I go crying to Ali the minute it seems my data is lost forever, I’m damn near perfect. And thus I really don’t have any use for New Year resolutions.
Right Ali? Right.
Seriously though, am I the only one who is already sick of hearing Dr. Oz and Suze Orman wax on and on about how, in 2011, we need to stop eating white bread and start assigning 20% of our paychecks to our 401k?
Forgive me if I’m a bit jaded when it comes to New Year’s resolutions, but I have zero patience with all of the TV “experts” who keep trying to shove them down my throat.
Resolution #2 - Stop being cheap and get my hair done more often...Resolution #3 - Stop being lazy and use a proper camera instead of my iPhone.
I don’t need an expert to tell me that if 2011 is going to be a productive year for me I must focus on one thing and one thing only…I must not use others’ accomplishments as a benchmark for my own success and happiness.
So there it is. My New Year’s Resolution. I need to stop wishing I was as smart, as pretty, as successful, as focused, as patient as my friend/neighbor/doctor/brother/Ali is and start being more productive instead. It’s a tall order to fill but I am pretty sure I can do it.
Now I just need to turn off Dr. Phil so I can get started…
Familiarity
After seeing one too many stacks of gorgeous Christmas decor relegated to clearance sections everywhere I turned, I realize that I either had to escape Los Angeles or I had to find someone to prescribe me some Zoloft.
Needless to say, Ali agreed that a little vacation was a cheaper and more efficient way to overcome my post-holiday slump. So instead of searching in vain for a shrink, we packed up, hopped on a plane, and flew up to San Francisco.
We’ve been here for a little more than 24 hours and I can already tell that despite the change in venue, it’s basically business as usual.
After checking in at our hotel Ali created a satellite office and settled in with his phones, computer, and various cables.
Same s@#$ different desk...
Maya’s questions and demands continued in rapid-fire…can I watch TV…I need a snack…I want to go ice skating…why do YOU get a robe and slippers and I don’t?
Why is Ali incapable of telling Maya that NO she can't have every single thing she wants?
For a moment I wondered why we spent money to get away when nothing really changed at all. But then I saw some old familiar names…
Well hello there Saks...it's been a while.
And suddenly I realized that familiarity isn’t such a bad thing after all.
I’m about to re-familiarize myself with my favorite place in the world – Bloomingdale’s – and Ali’s credit card. I guess you could say that despite the change in venue, it’s once again business as usual.
Touche.
a 2 hour wait
2 hours. That’s how long I waited in line for Maya to see Santa.
“Ameena is an idiot,” you must be thinking. And yes I am. I wasted 2 hours of my life in line so Maya could spend (literally) 2 minutes with Santa Claus before we were shuffled over to the cash register to pay $20 for a flash drive containing this staged family photo:
I just noticed The Grove's logo on this photo and now I'm bothered even further...
So why did I do it? Well because Maya’s been asking me if she could visit Santa at The Grove for 2 years. And for 2 years I kept saying, “One day Maya, when the line isn’t so long. I promise.”
Well the line never got shorter.
Anyway, given my usual reckless abandon for my child and her many, many requests, I was feeling kind of smug that I waited 2 hours for something that didn’t benefit me in the least.
But I just realized that after I publish this post I am setting off on a mission to hide a few of the 50 or so Christmas gifts Maya received so I can rotate them in and out throughout the year. And yes, maybe I’ll re-gift her one or two in March.
And poof! There goes my newfound smugness.
While I'm not going to win Mother/Wife of the Year Award anytime soon, I haven't killed anyone yet or shot myself in the head. And that, my friends, is how I calculate success these days. 
FANCY THAT FANCY THIS 