No resolutions for 2009. I have the overarching desire to simply "be a better person," but I've made the occasional vague attempt at being sweet and nice in the past, and nothing's ever come of it. I think I just have to accept that I'm not the good, kind, generous, wonderful, caring person that I'd like to be. I'm selfish and mean-spirited and enjoy making fun of people. I live by the seven deadly sins, especially sloth. And gluttony. Sometimes wrath. Lust, not so much in my post-newlywed years, but every once in a while, sure. I don't think I suffer terribly from pride, as I mostly hate myself, but every once in a while I will admit that I think something I've said or done is pretty damn awesome. Let's see, what sins have I forgotten to mention here? Greed and envy? Oh, hell yeah.

Anyway, here's to a happy 2009 nonetheless. In my mind, I've composed a 2009 poem. 2009 rhymes with wine and whine and dine and swine and malign and everything's-just-fine. So, since it basically writes itself, I'll spare myself the chore of typing it out.