I put a red pen in Relationship Corner. I will also move 27 things on New Year's Day, eat black-eyed peas, and say "white rabbit" when I wake up. I will also find a way to plant some greenery in my little condo.
In your library, you may file that under: "Hippie New Age Psychobabble" or "No Wonder" and if you are nice you might just tag it OCD. But it is also OK if you just say: Poor Thing.
Because see, I am going to good-luck-charm my way into the New Year and happily kiss the sucky year that was 2006 good-bye. I should have known 2006 was tainted when - well, I didn't do any of the above - and instead spent last New Year's Eve playing Syms with Peter Pan (who had already morphed into Johnny Jerkface at the time but I was in denial) and missed the turning of the calendar, dropping of the ball, and the Second Coming of Dick Clark - not to mention, not even a smooch to be had - when this was realized at 12:22 AM. So, my first thought of the new year - after my alter-ego, Cyrus Bookbender, kicked some ass in make-believe land and married the vapid bimbo Jerkface was charicaturing - was: This blows and look, we didn't even finish the champagne.
I believe we call that: disappointment.
So this year I will drink ALL the champagne with one Dear Prudence with not a plan in the air. Maybe we will play canasta with the cat or maybe we will stumble out into the neighborhood to see where the night takes us. Maybe I will make a fool of myself and drunk text some boy. Maybe I will go out on a date with one with a southern accent, or a short one, or a teddy bear, or an author with a best seller, or a pirate, or Captain Steubing, or [fill-in-the-blank].
We are going to call that: hopeful.
So join me in raising your red pens: Here's to a Good Year, y'all! And I just checked my Past and Psychic and it revealed to me that I do so much better in odd years any way. How 'bout that?!