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Friday, September 24, 2021

Column: Back to the disaster

“Two thousand ten” or “twenty ten?” Someone make a call on that one already, please. It’s the year Davis gives me the boot, so efemel. I made it through winter break without hitting a car or eloping with my cousin Ashley’s boyfriend. Oh karma, les jeux sont faits – your ass is mine. That was ’07 Michelle, and she’s very sorry about that.

Because no one ever wants to go into a new year thinking it will suck, the school of divine optimism teaches that you should concoct cheerful projections for the upcoming year. It’s imperative that you have a baller 2010, because it’s the start of a whole new decade full of skanky dance trends, heinous fashion errors and even skankier music videos.

I’m not really talking about resolutions. Those are pledges you make to better yourself despite the fact that those suckers who refer to themselves as “your loved ones” should just deal with it and accept you for being the overweight, chain-smoking shopaholic that you are.

Anyway, the likelihood of backsliding on your resolutions is fair. Even though I’m aware that it sounds very much like the kind of lame-ass excuse you used to give your parents when they asked you why you were storing napalm in the backyard tool shed.

I selflessly just want to see y’all have a fantabulous year, but if you see me at the bars and you’re not creepy, feel free to buy me a Midori sour. In exchange, here are a couple pearls of wisdom from someone whose wisdom is, at best, debatable.

Have more fun. Luckily, we’re just a week into this business, so it’s the perfect time to start petitioning your boss to fill the office water cooler with crème de menthe just like those crazies at Sterling Cooper on election night. If you see no results by August, you might want to step up the nagging. I’m not above blackmail. Nor should you be. Having fun will make you happy, and if you’re happy, your life will be better.

Get tasty washboard abs. Believe it or not, this falls into the “selfless acts” category. I once knew a guy with really nice abs and I asked him to show them to me all the time. It almost counts as public service. The recipe, of course, is a balanced diet and proper exercise.

Or you could:

1) Put “American Pie”/”Layla”/other miscellaneous and excessively long rock song on your iPod.

2) Imagine you’re being chased by a pack of wild dogs and run like hell down Russell for the duration of the song, then repeat repeatedly. I find that it helps to yelp and scream for your life. It adds realism and drama. Maybe it’s even good for your vocal cords.

3) Give up, trade in those sneakers for Spanx, and cheat it out like you’ve sunk to my level. Over break, I found out that contouring your flab with bronzer is also a nifty trick. And maybe do a couple of sit-ups if you can.

Once I got past writing about the having of the fun and the getting of the washboard abs, I confess that I was stuck because it would seem that everything falls into place after you have those two down. But, should the plan fail, you should also remember to…

Make the best of every situation. You’re walking home from a party with your ex. He decides it would be an opportune time to relieve himself on the nearest lawn. You realize that said lawn belongs to your old gym teacher. He comes out of the house really pissed (tee hee) about it. In situations like these, all you can do is laugh it off before you bounce ASAP.

Always try to cut awkward tension with laughter, because it really is the best medicine. Wrinkles can be temporarily erased with a needle, but memories of awkwardness last forever.

Get it done. Winter quarter is kind of weaksauce. It’s easily the weakest link in the academic year in most aspects. To be honest, it’s like ripping a Band-Aid off your crotch – no, it’s like a Brazilian wax. You just want to get it over with ASAP and medicate the pain with whatever they’ll sell you over the counter.

When it’s over, you can throw on that polka dot bikini, girl, and skip off to the pool. So here’s to ripping you know what off your … you know what and doin’ the damn thing.

MICHELLE RICK gently reminds you that 2010 means a fresh start and is also a perfect opportunity to update your hit list. She “knows a guy,” so shout out to marick@ucdavis.edu if you need to be steered toward a no-nonsense, reasonably-priced professional.

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