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ten resolutions for the new year.
let's see which ones stick past the first two months or so.

1) be less of a jackass. the show on mtv will more than compensate for the decline in your production of true "jackass" moments.

2) be aggressive. be be aggressive. and stop listening to other people when they say, "you HAVE to watch it. it's SUCH a good movie." movies about cheerleaders, no matter how promising a premise, NEVER entertain. only depresses. 'my life IS cheer!' good god.

3) devise a marketing ploy/scam targeted at the most affluent and powerful demographic of our time. the 6-14 year old.

they don't pay bills, they don't pay rent, they don't have crippling college and higher education loads, and they don't go on dates. first dates in new york cost over a hundred.

and most importantly, they're easily confused. pokemon, a multibillion dollar affair, is nothing more than cute cuddly 'rock, paper scissors'. "water pokemon, ground pokemon, air pokemon". mindboggling simple. drives me up the wall. why didn't i think of it first? instead of making billions, i went to hopkins. excuse me while i break through the drywall with my head. *been informed by roommate that building is firewalled - walls made of concrete. neural damage inflicted approximately in line with stupidity involved in degeneration.

4) be strong. moments of happiness, strung along like pearls, will soon link together a lifetime spent in joy.

5) don't worry, be happy. i'm sick with/of regret over things i could not do, remorse over things beyond my power, and simply having done stupid things to worry over. and with such a laissez-faire attitude endemic to the local populace, med school in the caribbean is seeming like a better and better idea with each gust of cold arctic air, presented as a front over the greater baltimore region.

6) broader shoulders, more defined arms, and tighter abs. i'd like to reverse the trend of skeletization that has been slowly overtaking my once presentable self. college has been an unbelievable diet, what with the stress, the warped sleep scheduling, and the malnutrition(not "not eating", but "BAD eating". hopkins dining is .... an experience. one i would not wish upon anyone. except for stoners and the starving. both groups have, or should have no concern for taste). 3 years of college life are abusive to the prior 18 years of athleticism. err, 17. senior year was an epic to how little one could do within a given 9 months. i wonder where the hell my set of tennis racquets are buried.

why is college so draining on your willpower? and yes, i've kept away from the ganja.

7) be startlingly memorable. i plan to have schoolchildren centuries from now forced to remember my name, and when i lived. why? because i had to. renoir, aristotle, washington, millard f*ckin fillmore. note that i don't care if they remember what i did.

they'll remember hitler for what he did, unless someone comes along to top him. but they won't remember albert schweitzer. i don't really want "executed 6 million of one sort of people, caused a war that killed millions more" sort of infamy.

8) "When I die, I hope to go to heaven - whatever the hell that is - and I want to be able to afford the price of admission.

"Virtue is the price of admission."

"That's what I mean. So I want to be prepared to claim the greatest virtue of all - that I was a man who made money."

-excerpted from 'atlas shrugged'

i want to never be as overrated as ayn rand. no wait. what the hell am i talking about?

i do. of course i do.

9) be a better person. as i have innumerable flaws, and am admittedly a self-absorbed bastard, this is probably the easiest task of them all. i will probably end up fulfilling this resolution by accident.

10) Love someone entirely, singularly, madly and without fear.

Chang's Life, ver. 2.0
It begins now.

Fairy Tales for the Modern Alcoholic

BREATHE IN / INSPIRATION

He panned the darkened bar below from his elite aerie on the VIP second floor, his eye wandering, focus darting from face to face. Silent and self-assured, he hunted for her. The myriad of girls were being picked off one by one as he swirled his gin and tonic. The tall blonde by the door wasn't thin enough for him. He tossed down the remainder of his drink. That short Indian girl was entirely too petite, and the damned waitress was nowhere in . The Asian girl moving towards him, no, towards the rear of the first floor below him, was much too thin to be handled. Grunting in disapproval, he stood to make his way to the bar. He was thirsty after such a drought. Standing up, he made his way to the stairs with their runway lighting, coaxing him down to the bar's warm lights.

There he saw her. A tall slim image, alone on the bar, dressed meticulously in her corporate wear. Entirely InStyle, with smooth lines and crisp cut. Fortune 500 colors. Muted gray with white underneath, dark sweater blue under the 15 watt lighting. Her face was long and thin, lovely with an alligator grin that pleased the bartender.

Her hair, however. Made him smile. She apparently had a long day. Her long dark mane was up in a high, loose ponytail that flopped about as she laughed and chattered, very schoolgirl. She made it rather obvious she didn't care what anyone thought. The effect was unsettlingly charming.

He grinned. Target, acquired. A quick check-off with the boys. He reversed his course and hopped sideways back onto his seat. His bemused and radiant air caught the attention of all slouched around the plush circular sofa. Jane, in particular, was surprised by the sudden reappearance of his smile.

"Oi. See the girl at the bar, sitting down, wearing the gray blazer?"

"Yeah," Joel replied, craning his neck to catch a better line of sight. "She's kinda cute."

Jane had been watching the girl as well. "Yeah. I guess."

James had also noticed. "Just your type. Long and thin Pokemon. Gotta catch 'em all, eh?" Jane's eyes thinned and slanted in annoyance.

"Quit using that word. It's really derogatory."

Chad was beyond such petty argument. There was a hunt still on. "Mmmh," he dismissively mumbled. "So she's a one?"

James agreed. "A one."

Joel slowly shook his head, in sage approval. "Yeah. I think so."

"Good. I'm gone." On that, he grabbed his blazer, and with a whirl, it was on.

He sauntered down the stairs and to the bar slowly, collecting himself. Fly, quickly and discreetly checked. Shirt, properly tucked, but tie was reacquainted with the collar. He checked his hair in the mirror behind the bar, and gave it a run-through with an open hand. He was good to go. But there needed to be an In. Lines entangled themselves around his tongue and as he made his way closer, he had nothing. Panic was imminent. He was closing in, and he still had nothing. When in doubt, you go back to the basics. Standard Operating Procedures were followed.

He stood next to her, and waited for the bartender. He peeled off a crisp twenty from his clip and folding it lengthwise, leaned onto the bar. The barman made his way over and Chad ordered his Ten and tonic. In the mirror, the mark was quite contentedly toying with her Cosmo, the twist floating about the tiny sea of pinked vodka. He looked over, and was abruptly taken with her scent. There was something within the mixture that was startling. He adored it. He adored her.

"Hi." It seemed to stumble out of his mouth.

With an unimpressed half-smile, she waved back.

"I'm sorry. But what is that wondrous perfume you're wearing? It's maddeningly seductive. I don't even know what it is. The fragrance… it's enchanting. What is it?"

And with that uninspired first line, she blushed and smiled, making heaven sing in his ear. The bartender interrupted his reverie, returning with the drink. Startled, Chad thanked him brusquely and from the change, left a dollar. Coyly, she laughed and said, "I'm sorry. It's a secret. It's the distilled essence of me."

Unexpected answer, but he rolled with it. "And what might I name this essence?"

A bit of confusion, a bit of thought, and the reply was smiled, "My name is Gwen, if you're asking."

"Sorry", with a smile. "I thought I was clever. My name is Chad, by the way. A pleasure to meet you, Gwen." Chad extended his hand.

"Pleased to meet you, Chad."

"So is the perfume still classified information?"

"I'm sad to say it is. After all," she winked, "we wouldn't want everyone smelling like me. After all, then men wouldn't come up to me randomly and ask such impertinent questions."

"It is wonderful. It seems to have been concocted especially for you."

A mischievously grateful smile, and a pleasant laugh was his reward. "I sorta thought the same. I've been on the lookout for that one scent that has "Gwen" all over it. Like, I'll smell it and think, "'this is how I smell, in the best of conditions, when all is well and love is abloom.'"

He couldn't help but softly chuckle, amused by her earnestness, eyes bright, cheeks blushed, and her ponytail bobbling all over the place. "Is that right?"

She joined in the good-natured laughter. "No, not really. It seemed like the thing to say, though."

"It was charming, your little speech there. You had me going."

"I'm glad. It is gratifying to know someone thinks I was right."

"I will admit that I had to talk to you after I noticed your perfume. I simply couldn't resist."

"Well, then. It was a wise investment on my part."

Inspired, he blurted out in as romantic a tone as he could marshal, "The rose looks fair, but fairer we it deem, For that sweet odour, which doth in it live."

A silence, accompanied by an eyebrow raised in skepticism, and a head cocked to the side. "A Shakespeare scholar in a suit. Who would've expected."

"It takes one to know one" was the defensive retort. Chad chortled nervously and looked up into her eyes, still wary.

She looked away, and up into the soft track-lights above. Chad conceded defeat, and looked down to the floor. A little too over-the-top, apparently. A reminder was made to keep initial conversations less obscure, less overly thought out. He took a hard gulp of his drink and was turning back to Gwen, as she replied.

"We will bend down and loosen our hair over you, That it may drop faint perfume, and be heavy with dew. Lilies of death-pale hope, roses of passionate dream." Her glance fell from the ceiling, and back down to him. An innocent grin overtook her original solemnity.

He was astonished. The sensation was all over him, with classical signs. His eyes were widened as to allow more of her inexplicable light to enter. His body stiffened as his mind was overwhelmed. Chad opened his mouth to speak of his undying love for her. Instead, his jaw fell off its hinge, and he leaned against the bar with his mouth half-open, very much like a deer frozen in headlights.
She watched him in amusement, then turned back to her cosmopolitan and took a final sip. "Why are you so shocked?" she asked with a sly smirk.

"Yeats" was all he could think to say.

She toyed with her emptied glass. With an air of utmost confidence, she haughtily agreed. "Yes, indeed. I am glad your knowledge is of a wider horizon than I had originally imagined."

He watched her put on her air, and had to laugh. She joined in the contagion, and the bartender who had come to ask if she had wanted a refill quietly and discreetly retreated from the merry pair.
An unapologetic, impish gaze dawned in her eyes. "I'm sorry. I couldn't resist. You were entirely too surprised by the fact that I recited Yeats."

Playfully frowning, "Very good, Gwen. You got me there. How about I buy you a round for the error in my ways." He looked toward the bartender and waved him over.

"Another cosmo, please," as she looked back to Chad. "So. What is it that you do? And how is it that you know so much poetry?"

"Mmh. I'm a writer, supposedly."

"Supposedly?"

"I've been writing and writing, but with little inspiration. I've been reading Yeats and Shakespeare, because they had it."

"It?"

"A reason to write. The light. The inspiration."

"I see."

"Shakespeare had his unknown love, and Yeats more famously had Maud Gonne."

Gwen cut in, "You know of Maud Gonne…" and trailed off.

"And the two wrote such brilliant lines in dedication to the objects of their adulation. They thought so much of their muses that immortality was the gift they bestowed."

Gwen interrupted, "So long as men can breathe, or eyes can see, so long lives this, and this gives life to thee."

Eyes shining in spite of the dim light, he spoke animatedly, "Yes. Yes. That's exactly what I mean. I wish to meet these women, or people, or whatever. I want to know what inspires such great writing."

"I know. I've always wanted to be a muse."

"Really", with a coy smile. "I've always wanted one. How coincidental."

"What is it you look for in yours?"

"I don't know. No wait. I do. Five five with brown eyes, smile like the sunrise", and he broke away into laughter.

They laughed together, in the easy breathless way that long-lost lovers do when reunited after some time. The pleasant giggles that accent easy the breathless chatter of stories needing to be remembered, by voices needing to be reheard.

The story moves later to Chad's apartment a handful of blocks away. There, the fairy-tale returns to the sad ordinary. He hadn't expected the outcome, he had expected more. There had been the clichéd "chemistry", the comfortable feeling.

Instead, the pedestrian one-night stand. He woke up the next day alone in the tangled mess ofsheets and bedding. Evidence of the night before was evinced only in the wilting remnants of her rapturous scent - pheromone fused in an organic chemistry with sweet pea, gardenia, and sandalwood.

And a note was hurriedly scrawled on the top leaf of a notepad he had left by his nightstand. She had titled it, "Application for Muse-hood", and with silky penmanship, she wrote.

1) Source of Literary Inspiration
I'm no Maud Gonne, but crazy? Yes. Irish, no. Korean(which she noted, is even better. If craziness is the sought-after attribute, he added). Yes. Revolutionary? No feminist, but sure. Why not. I can be revolutionary.

I believe I will be a spectacular muse because I shock you, amuse you, and make you laugh (this, of course, has been amply substantiated).

2) 5`5 with Brown eyes

5`6 with Brown eyes. I hope that works as well.

3) Smile like the sunrise

My smile has never been complimented in such poetic terms, to be sure, but will "you have a nice smile" work?

Please let me know should you need any further proof of my muse-like qualities, and I look forward to hearing from you soon with a positive response.

Your Muse-in-Waiting

That was all. No name, no number. Only her breathless scrawl, and her infused
fragrance. He smiled, and gently replaced the pad back onto his nightstand. Chad got up, reached desperately for the sky, and slowly wandered to his computer. Soon, the clatter of keys overwhelmed the lonely silence of the morning.