Twelve Blogs of Christmas

           So
clearly I’ve failed when it came to my New Year’s resolution of 2011.  I’m not talking about losing weight or
meeting Mr. Right; although I’ve failed with those too.  And with half a dozen parties,
luncheons, and dinners left to attend, all with too many temptations and not
nearly enough single men, I doubt I’ll manage to rectify these failures before
the next ball drops.  However, I
can at least come close to achieving one goal: a year of blogging.  When I took on this endeavor last
January I intended to write a blog a week.  It didn’t seem like an ambitious goal at the time, but
finding fifty-two topics to blog about turned out to be more difficult than I’d
imagined. 

            Part
of my problem is that I’m a bit anal about my writing.  If I couldn’t say it eloquently or with
some humor, I just didn’t write it. 
No blog was better than a crappy blog.  Unfortunately, I’m also a bit stubborn and hate quitting
anything–other than diets!  My
parents can tell stories about the hours I spent agonizing over quitting soccer
after an entire year of warming the bench, and my ‘big sister’ Kate probably
remembers the near breakdown I had when I decided to quit journalism to be an
education major.  Allowing my blog
to go down the tubes with the diets and dating was bugging me.  So I’m insanely creating a new
goal-just two weeks before the New Year: twelve new blogs (lucky thirteen if
you count this one, and yes, I’m counting this one!).  This will bring me to a total of forty-two posts this
year.  It’s not the fifty-two I had
originally intended, but it’s within ten, which is more than I can say about my
goal weight or the number of dates I hoped to have!

            In
honor of the holidays, I’ve chosen to write my dozen blogs as a bloggers
version of The Twelve Days of Christmas. 
Honestly, though, I can’t stand that song until it gets to day twelve
and begins counting down.  At least
then you know the end is in sight and the abundance of bad gifts is coming to a
close.  Forty rings, I could
handle, but who in their right mind would give a girl 184 birds?  So to keep you all from trying to drown
yourself in nog or joining the eight lords a’ leaping in a long leap off a
short cliff after twelve days of repetition, I’m starting at twelve and
counting down.  I can’t promise
they’ll be long, eloquent, or witty, but they’ll be written.  And if they get as tedious as a dozen
partridges in a dozen pear trees, at least you have the choice between the
delete button or another stiff nog. 
Cheers!

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