Graduate and read a book: New Year’s resolutions
January 12, 1998
It’s a new year, and you know what that means. That’s right — everybody and his dog will be at the rec center. It’s time for New Year’s resolutions. We all have them, whether we admit it or not. This year, I decided to share mine with you, my faithful readers.
Usually, I try to avoid such clich‚s, but since this column runs on Monday, you heard it here first!
Catherine’s 1998 Resolutions
1. Watch all the Bulls games. After all, what could be a better use of my time? Hmm, let me think, do I want to do homework or watch basketball? I’d say it’s a no-brainer. This could be Michael’s last year, for heaven’s sake. Remember the last time he retired? I remember it like it was yesterday, and it was not pretty. I was kicking myself for not taping every one of his games for posterity. You don’t know what you have until it’s gone.
2. Get my TV working. I have a TV worth several hundred dollars, but I haven’t gotten around to hooking up an antenna to it. Sure, I can watch cable in the living room, and I set up my VCR and watched a few movies in my room last semester, but what is the point of having my own TV if I don’t let it fulfill its true purpose? On second thought, maybe I’ll move my TV to my roommates’ room. I’ll need to study between games, not watch more TV.
3. Buy CDs. Speaking of things I never use, let’s talk about my CD player. I usually listen to my roommate’s CDs on my roommate’s stereo, but what if we get separated at some point in time? What if, and I shudder to think of it, we don’t always live together? What if I have to go across town to borrow her stuff instead of across the hall? I’d better prepare myself. Which leads me to number four …
4. Graduate. Although I’m supposed to be out of here in December, it’s pretty tempting to hang around Iowa State for a few more semesters. However, my checkbook keeps reminding me that incoming instead of outgoing money would be a welcome change. My math skills are a little rusty right now, but I have a sneaking suspicion that I should heed my checkbook’s warnings.
5. Read a book other than a textbook. If I’m going to be out in the real world, I’m going to need a hobby. I’m going to have to relearn how to read without underlining, outlining, highlighting or even committing the information to long-term memory. I hear it’s fun.
6. Be nice to my friends. Be nice to my boyfriend. Somehow, get my friends to be nice to my boyfriend. Sure, sometimes I feel like strangling him, too, but encouraging me to beat him just isn’t politically correct.
7. Implement Operation Desert Spice. This was an ingenious idea. Unfortunately, I can’t take credit for it. The plan is to build pseudo-theaters all over the world, which will actually be gas chambers. Ideally, we will eliminate all the people who are willing to pay money to see the Spice Girls’ new movie. Then we will hide the evidence, take the money and run. The world will surely be a better place. No, no, don’t thank me, just send your donations….
8. Think of a similar plan for the ISU cheerleaders. Any ideas? No, really, just kidding. Right.
9. Spend at least one night a week at home in bed instead of out partying. Ha, ha, ha.
10. Really, really try hard to avoid those spontaneous urges to rip down the goalposts and throw them into Lake Laverne.
Catherine Conover is a senior in liberal studies from Mapleton.