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5 New Year’s Resolutions I’m Bound To Regret Tomorrow

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In spite of all expectations to the contrary, I have managed to remain alive for the duration of 2012. I can’t say I’m not excited to see it shifted into the ‘old business’ file, but I did in fact survive it. It wasn’t the worst year I’ve ever had by a long shot. 2011 was the super suck ass year of my life, and 2000 wasn’t really a whole lot better. It’s OK, I’m not going to dwell on past, but look boldly forward to the ripe possibilities that 2013 is going to bring.

It’s customary for people to draft New Year’s resolutions on New Year’s Day, but I’m getting started a little early. Clearly not a whole lot unless you take into account that I drafted this post one rainy morning a few weeks ago, but still. It’s OK because it’s in accordance with the first item on my list. Get ahead of the game. Where the theme of 2012 was ‘Embrace the Awkward’, the theme of 2013 is going to be ‘Do Really Hard Things’.  With no further ado, my resolutions for this year.

1. Get Ahead of the Game: I’ll be perfectly honest; I’m what people usually refer to as a “horrible procrastinator”. I’m not sure why as I usually sneak in right under the wire in a flurry of confusion, sweat, and abject panic. I love to tell myself that I work well under pressure, but the rare instances in which I started on time have proven I work just as well, if not better, when I have buckets of time at my disposal. I’m going to go one better and not just start on time, but early. Why is this so hard? I don’t really believe in the future. I have no expectation that next week or even tomorrow is really a thing, so it seems foolish not to push unpleasant tasks forward into this hypothetical black hole of unreality. After being proven wrong for 41 straight years, I resolve to act as if the future is real, and imminent.

2. Conquer My Fear of the Dentist: Over the past 3 years I have managed to conquer almost all of my pants wetting fears. Specifically, heights, public speaking, and having everyone find out I’m trans. This is good because it just might give me the final push I need to face the granddaddy of them all. The dentist. While I blithely subject myself to endless hours of tortuous facial lasering or electrocution with nary a moment’s sleep missed over it, I wake up screaming from night terrors in which a pleasant dental assistant is coming at my mouth with that awful hook thing. Ugh! In the mean time, my teeth need some serious work as there is like one spot left I can chew on without blinding agony. So, time to face that demon. Crap, I just realized that to comply with item 1, I need to book an appointment like right now. Seriously, I’m my own worst enemy.

3. Be a Tough Mudder: OK, my motivation for this comes in three parts. A friend at work ran this insanely hard competition last year, and my competitive nature tells me that if she can do it, so can I. Second, I have a burning desire to get into fantastically great shape just because, and training for an obstacle course that makes Navy SEALs cry sounds as good a motivation any. Finally, I want to be able to tell people I’m a real tough mudder. If you know me, you will understand that the last one will probably spurn me on like nothing else. I probably should have started training already since the thing is in July, but well, that’s the reason #1 is on the list.

4. Complete Transition: Yes, this means what you think it does. I’m seriously sick of being in the middle of this transition business and more than ready to have it done already. Oh, it’s been fun and all, but time to ramp it up, finish the hair removal business, and schedule my consultation. My endo says I’m ready, my gender specialist says I’m ready, and more importantly, I know I’m ready. It’s going to be a big push, but I’m looking forward to the day when I can turn this blog into something with knitting or cute pictures of marsupials theme. Yes, yes, I still have to call and schedule my consult. I’m really fucking myself with that stupid first item.

5. Actually Write the Damn Thing Already: This is probably not a huge shocker, but I have completed a strong detailed outline for a book. Yes, I will most likely have to self-publish, but nevertheless, I’m going to do it. Why write one? Fame? Fortune? Ha, nothing of the kind. I simply want to lord it over two old friends who used to bicker about who would be published first. I think if I win I get treated to my pick of any Grand Slam offering at Denny’s. I probably could have been done by now if I worked on it instead of futzing about with this blog, but you know, old number one.

OK, I think 5 huge ass resolutions are enough for this year. It’s OK though, I’m going to do this. To all of you who have been reading my drivel for some reason I’m still not sure I understand, a very Happy New Year to you all!!

PS – I also resolve to stop doing this damn holiday themed posts. Except Arbor Day. The material is just a gold mine.

Troublesome Teeth

I try not to be one to toot my own horn too much, but after coming to personal acceptance that transitioning could cost me absolutely everything and coming out the other side, there isn’t too much left that I’m afraid of. My second worst fear is being forced into a public speaking engagement to a hostile and vocal audience with full knowledge that what I have to tell them is only going to enrage them more. My greatest fear is the dentist. Having had to face both on several occasions, and getting my ass handed to me with extreme prejudice more than once, I can confirm that they remain in the correct order.

After I joined the Air Force I was dismayed to learn that annual cleaning was a direct order; no exceptions. Had I known that, I probably wouldn’t have joined. It was terrible and the dentist yelled at me for being afraid of him, only adding to the overall shittiness of the situation. I swore that I would never go again once out after my 4 year, 4 annual cleaning, stint. I brush fastidiously and avoid chewing on wads of sticky candy whenever possible. Now I’ve got a problem. Two problems actually. First, I’m pretty sure I have multiple cavities that are becoming more troublesome by the day. Second, I’ve been told by someone that my grill is kind of male-ish, so now I’m all self conscious about it. Damn it. Looks like not only will I have to go in, but probably lots if I’m going to fix this.

The root of my fear is that although I have a remarkably high pain tolerance overall, I have zero pain tolerance when it comes to my teeth. They are sensitive in a way that goes well beyond the capabilities of Sensodyne or even several shots of Novocain. If given a choice between breaking my strongest oath of secrecy or biting an ice cube, I’d be spilling my guts before they even got to the freezer. Seriously, if I fell into the hands of the Taliban, my biggest worry would be that a DQ franchise opened nearby and they were inclined to treat me to a twisty cone. It’s that bad.

Since my company is awesome and not inclined to can me out of fear and loathing, and I survived the last few layoffs, I’m going to up my dental to the premium plan. Once I do, I’m going to find a nice sedation dentist whom I can cajole into yanking out the lot of them. Seriously, I’m more than OK with going with a nice set of falsies, preferably small, feminine, bright white and delightful to look at. Something nice, hard, and in no way connected to my nervous system. My long departed grampa had a fake set he used to delight us with by removing and swishing around in his beer. Yeah, I think I could be very happy being an old lady like that, making use of my chompers for maximum comedic value. I could even get a set with one gold one, right up front, for extra classy occasions. It’s going to be sweet.

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