Today’s one of those days when I kicked so much ass, I’ve got nothing left to give.
I got five bazillion errands and tasks accomplished. I ate tons of healthy food. Limited my coffee intake. Spent money responsibily. Returned JDawg’s silent treatment. Gold stars across the board. So I’m going to take the evening off for pure slack.
But I couldn’t just not post, right? I mean, that would be wise, considering how little I have to say.
When am I ever wise?
Instead, I’ll make an announcement about the little contest I mentioned on New Year’s Eve.
Four entries? Seriously? Y’all don’t want some good vibrations? Okay fine.
I’m extending it. And I’m changing it a bit. Now, instead of having to surf your butt off at Eden Fantasys, you need to visit this impressive dood. And tell me what you’d rename him. And now, you have until the 14th – with the winner being announced on the 15th. Everyone who has entered to this point? You’re still in. Tweeting counts for a second entry, still. Everything else is still the rules. Make sense?
Don’t make me whine about wanting to give you some lovin’, people.
What do all of these resolutions:
have in common? They’re all about me. So very little in the past, hmm, let’s say decade has been about me. Excepting fighting in relationships and ending of friendships, I’ve rarely stepped far out of the spectrum known as ‘let me take care of you, fix everything, be there for you, to hell with how I’m doing.’
Sure, I’ve vented tons to friends – I know a few of you have gotten a screenful or 80, but I’ve felt horribly selfish and wrong about it, because I’m supposed to be this person who is rock-solid, impenetrable. The need to vent and yell and cry and vent some more? Kind of a direct contradiction to that mirage I’ve tried to create.
So, fuck it. 2009 is the year of Z. It’s the year of Me. It’s where I go out and do the things I want to do, get the things I want to get and be the person I want to be – without stepping away from the person I already am.
It’s when I exercise the knowledge that friendship, truly deep love between friends, is two-sided and that because I ask someone to be there for me doesn’t make me a selfish asshole.
It’s when I help a girlfriend gain some self-confidence after two kids and five years of marriage, so that she can have sex with the lights on, without a buzz – while I’m working on my glutes.
It’s when I find a babysitter, so that I can spend time with friends, without kids tagging along and distracting from our overall potential for fabulousness.
It’s when I push the envelope further and further, seeing just what I can get, from what I think I’m worthy of – and handing out just as much as I would anyway.
It’s when I decide that I can be me, whoever that is. It’s when I find out who that is and stop pretending so often in little tiny ways.
The last resolution: Be selfish. Be self concerned. Be all up in my own shit.
Tonight, New Years Eve, I’m attending a birthday party for a friend I made on Twitter. This is out of the ordinary for so many reasons: I’m going out, without Isobel, to a social thing; I’m leaving her, her bedtime routine and her care afterwards in her dad’s hands, not knowing how…controlled things will be; I’m going to meet people that I don’t know and a couple that I know online, without an instant out.
The pressure is on for all participants – me, Isobel and JDawg. Any one of us could fuck it up. But nonetheless, I’m going out with resolve. Be me. Rock out. Enjoy. Worry less and clean up the mess, later. And that is what 2009 is all about.
What else?
How about another contest. Because 2009 really needs to be about you, too.
Specifically, 2009 needs to be the year of O.
WTF does that mean? I want at least three one person out here to think of me when they’re in a carnal position. Yes, I said it. Why? Because I’m teaming up with Eden Fantasys to give one winner the toy of their choice. Not my choice, their choice. [Don't you want something extra special to ring in the new year (over and over again) with?]
Here’s the deal:
- You spend hours salivating at the merch available from Eden Fantasys, reading descriptions and reviews, zooming in on rabbit ears, etc.
- Then you leave me a comment with the link to your choice Orgasmic Objet d’Art and what you would rename it as;
- If you want a bonus entry, you Tweet, “@Zoeyjane wants to make your thighs quiver. Enter the contest – I did: http://mommyismoody.com/2008/12/31/on-a-final-note-in-2008/.”
- Then, you could like, totally win!
The fine print:
The contest will run from Midnight on January 1st until 11:59 on January 9th (all times are PST). You can leave one comment per day as an entry, in addition to one tweet per day – meaning everyone has the opportunity to enter up to 18 times.
The maximum dollar value of your new best friend shall not exceed $100.
Any comment entries that don’t include a link to the product don’t get counted, in addition to those not providing a legitimate email address and willing to provide mailing information upon winning.
Tweets can be creatively rephrased, for sure, but they’ll only count if they begin with @Zoeyjane, include this post’s link and have taken place after leaving a commenting entry. If you’re not renaming, you’re not playing.
The word ‘renaming’ can be construed how ever you like – if you want to remoniker a dildo ‘Herbie, the Love Club’, give ‘er. If you want to call a rabbit your ‘Rock-It of Love’, that’s your deal. Be funny, anecdotal, disturbing, it doesn’t matter to me! I want to cry tears from laughter, people. But, no pressure.
All comment and Twitter entries will be chronologically ordered, then a winner selected via random number generator, emailed and announced on January 10th’s post.
Lube is so not included. Neither are batteries. Probably.
