Fuck You, Stevie. Superstition IS the Way.

Here it is ... the required post dedicated to saying goodbye to 2009 and hello to 2010.

Another year gone and this one felt like a fucking landslide. Legal became legal and managed to not get arrested. The Boy graduated kindergarten and turned six. Boss Lady turned five and enrolled in college (not really, but soon maybe...no pressure to excel, sweetheart). We survived Disneyland, Santa Barbara and bloody noses. I turned 37 and didn't care. We wrote messages on balloons to Seltar on the anniversary of his passing and sent them skyward.

I laughed, I cried, I ranted, I raved, I drank Chardonnay.

So to you 2009, I wrap you in pretty paper and lovely ribbons and I bid you farewell. I'll remember you in journal entries, heartfelt letters to Sel, semi-funny blog posts, recipes from Sunday night dinners and photos yet to be organized, many to be printed (maybe in 2010 but more likely in 2011).

And though I may not be the most religious person (religious art excluded), I am very much a superstitious person. You will never find my ass under a ladder, I'm constantly throwing salt over my shoulder and if you open an umbrella inside my house I'll have no choice but to remove your spleen with my teeth. I'm not kidding. Next time I see you you'd better have a rabbit's foot, a four-leaf clover and a fucking pot of gold for me.

I believe in superstitions more than I believe in resolutions (I never claimed to be rational nor sane). So instead of making a pact with the Devil myself to lose ten pounds or write the Great American Novel, I will wear polka dots for prosperity, bright yellow panties for wealth and eat twelve grapes before the final stroke of midnight. I'll eat lentils on New Years Day and if I can find it I'll also throw in a stuffed pig's trotter. I'll eat my noodles unbroken and won't sweep until January 2.

According to Stevie, when you believe in things that you don't understand, then you suffer. Superstition ain't the way. Whatever. I'll take my chance and let you know this time next year just how prosperous fluorescent yellow panties can be.

Happy New Year from she who is Miss Spoken!