No, that’s not one of my famous typos, it’s how I’m approaching 2018, like a WAC, 
going to war.
It’s interesting how army women are called WACS, short for Women’s Army Core. Wonder whose testosterone was overflowing when that was coined?
But moving on.
It’s not uncommon to want a fresh start to a new year, so I’ve made a list, of all the areas I wish to improve.
Who knew, there’d be so many.
1 I want to stop worrying what others think of me without pretending, it doesn’t matter. Those so called friends who can’t be bothered, now that I can’t hear as well. Want to have little cards made up at Tiffany that say…FUCK YOU in a nice, bold script, as a response to their smugness.
2 To have more grace towards my writing…to embrace what a gift it is rather than, oh no…I haven’t been published lately. Well, given my poor self-promotion skills, I may never be published again, but that doesn’t make me any less of the scribe I am, who lives to write.
3 Keeping my drinking in check. Have you ever heard it said…when you shake the family tree, all the alcoholics fall out? My family tree, is the size of a Sequoia, shading addiction that lies dormant. One needs to watch her liquid leanings that could easily send her to Betty Ford.
4 Weaning myself off of steroids taken for my hearing loss, along with the fear, without them, it will get worse. I pray it doesn’t, and since the side effects are dire, it’s a no-brainer to take the chance.
5 My obvious aging…my once pretty face that’s no more…to accept it, wearing my wrinkles proudly with earned dignity, rather than shame. A tough one, for an old model like me.
6 Aloneness, I feel is permanent, but remembering all the romance I’ve been blessed with…memories no one, including old age herself, can steal.
7 My hearing loss that alas, changed my life…to not lick my wounds, nor fight something I cannot change, summoning grace when I need her, who’ll remind me that, it could all be so much worse, like the month when I couldn’t walk.
8 Accepting people as they come…detaching when need be, embracing love however it appears, despite fear of closeness and lack of trust, something any child of alcoholicism ails from.
9 To up my compassion towards all living things, Franciscan style, putting it into 4th gear, revving the engine, taking it up as high as it will go…to quote Gandhi…to be the change I want to see.
10. To stop scratching like a Beagle in detox. Humidifiers, more cream in the new year…Crisco? I’m already basted like a Cornish hen, but girls shouldn’t scratch who hail from Connecticut, now should they.
Wow, I’ll really need to focus, if I’m to succeed in my New Year’s Revolution.
I’ll don a beret like Che…give the power salute like Bobby, and then grab my balls and go, like JFK, and then we’ll see.
If I master 2 out of 9, how humble I will be.
Let’s hope I’ll at least stop scratching. 
Happy New Year everyone.
SB