This is a lifestyle blog.

I'm Alida. Writer of Books. Lover of food. Late 20s and still shops at Forever21. Wears lipstick to the grocery store. Runs even when not being chased. Like a Real Housewife but poorer. Not real good at anything. Now a lifestyle blogger.

You should definitely listen to me!

 

New Year's Resolutions I Absolutely Refuse To Partake In

New Year's Resolutions I Absolutely Refuse To Partake In

It's that time to start making New Year's Resolutions, and I've already made my two: Prioritize my mental health by seeking therapy, and read up on topics I should be more educated about. 2016 was that year of realization for Kylie Jenner, and this year is mine! Go me! 

I don't hate resolutions. I'm kind of over people making fun of them, because the kind of downer who lectures others about "making goals all year" is always the one who could use a resolution the most: stop shitting on people for insignificant enjoyments. We get it. Your whole life is based on complaining about popular television shows and music and going out for brunch. I'm still gonna make a short list on January so bite me. That BEING SAIDthere are some resolutions I refuse to partake in, even though I understand they might better me in the long run. I've tried to give them up in the past, and it didn't work, so I'm over it:

-putting in more effort at the gym: I am all about people working out more, and if your neighborhood gym is doin' a real deal, go for it. But I got a gym membership in March and all I have to show for it is vaguely toned calves and a more delusional sense of self. And my arms are still weak. The other day, I had to commute back home with a bunch of heavy bags. When I went up the subway stairs, it was...oh maybe .004% easier than it used to be, and it's that same feeling when you calculate the tip for a group dinner and think that algebra is a useful life skill for you. No it's not. I'd rather have a calculator, and I'd rather be sitting on my couch. I am absolutely not upping my gym workouts this year. Stay the same!

-curbing my snacks: every poisonous diet list I've ever read has some tip on snacking mindlessly, and how that's such a detriment to your dieting. Well. Snacking is my lifeblood. If I didn't walk up to my pantry 4 times in one Real Housewives episode to get a few Salt and Vin chips, I'd have bed sores and I'd be unhappier. If I didn't munch on hummus at a party in order to remove myself on some convo about Wes Anderson movies, I'd start uppercutting former film students. Mindless snacking is all I have.

-stop procrastinating: I would love to finish a deadline early. I'd be shitting macarons if I was able to take my head out of the dark abyss I swim in and start working on my resumé or an article or a book proposal at a reasonable hour. But my body is like the blubbery seal on the ice cap: unless the orca is there to eat my entire body for lunch, I ain't moving. And that works for me, as someone whose life is vaguely predictable. I rely on this light adrenaline because I don't do water sports, I don't go skiing, I don't write lists on Elite Daily on traveling in your 20's, and I don't gamble. Without this kind of excitement, I'd be Ben Stein. 

-meet new people: absolutely not

-start saving money: oh, sure, Mr. Fancy Pants Money Bags is telling me to open up my savings account and dribble money into it like the run-off frozen yogurt that pools into the napkin you're holding the cone with. I know your tips. I know you're telling me to give up my fancy coffee drink or that extra cocktail and put it into my future Well. Well! Well aren't I just SCROOGE MCDUCK NOW. If I added 10 bucks to my BOA savings account ever weekend, which is the equivalent to my shitty iced coffee from the bodega and a watery vodka soda, I'd have $520 bucks in my savings account. And then I'd snap my leg open running to the bank, and I'd owe 2 million dollars to Trump Care or whatever. So I'm just going to give up this very reasonable resolution for another more ridiculous one: I'm going to make more money this year. I'm just going to invent something. Or maybe win the lottery. Or hopefully my rich, non-existent great uncle will die. I'm not sure. But I'm not giving up my watery vodka sodas.

-stop looking up medical symptoms online: maybe this one is catered to me, but according to WebMd I've been dead for 50 years and I'm just sitting in this old well, hoping somebody will watch the video that will allow me to climb out of the tv and kill them.

-travel more: The fact that I don't have the money to do this is kind of irrelevant at this point. The fact that my schedule is dictated by the weddings I'm attending to and paying for hotels for is irrelevant. The fact that I'm well past the demographic of internet writers telling you to travel after college is irrelevant, even if I've become an old witch hag who would gladly give a poisoned apple to anyone under 25 in exchange for their oily glowy skin. The truth is, I'm just tired of telling myself I'll see the world this year when I don't even want to go to my friend's house for dinner, I just want to sit on the couch and eat Pop Chips until my body sort of wilts away at the muscles. Why travel for fun when you can avoid TSA lines? Why travel for fun when you can not climb in the floating bullet we call a plane, because geese in the movie Sully could take one down? No. I'll just sit here, searching through Netflix endlessly until I rot.

-get more sleep: this is a thinly-veiled way of saying "drink more at night" or "do more drugs, but earlier" and you know it.  

-lying: if you think I'm going to stop telling little white lies, you're out of your gosh darn mind. I'm only five minutes away. I'm busy that night. I didn't eat that sandwich with your name on it. I only had Taco Bell once this week. I didn't steal your dog. I didn't call an Uber, I'm just going to the bathroom. Sure, I saw all of Shutter Island. Hope you have a great weekend!

-stay off social media more: I say I won't, but I can't. It's siren call is slowly killing me, but I take Facebook or Twitter off my phone and bam! I miss my high school acquaintances engagement photoshoot with an American Flag wrapped around her pregnant stomach, or an xojane article about eating your feces to stay young. The Internet is what is killing me, and in 2017, it will only rip away at my insides like Mark Zuckerberg rips away at the elk he hunts and feasts on, alive, in the darkness of the woods.

A Prediction Of Your New Year's Eve

A Prediction Of Your New Year's Eve

Neat! I'm In This Amazing Anthology!

Neat! I'm In This Amazing Anthology!