Earning my wings

The predictions for 2012 are rather dire now, aren’t they?

I confess there was a time when the rumours and bad Hollywood movies had me anticipating the worst: destruction, demise, reality television, old rock band reunion tours, etc.

I don’t need much incentive to be paranoid. I come by it rather naturally. Chicken Little’s sky may be falling, but in my world, I’ve decided to see the hole in the ozone layer for what lies beyond.

That sounds wrong. Let’s be honest. I don’t have a clue what the world has in store for me or for you and I am trying to accept that powerless sense of fate. Yet I don’t plan to buy into the hype and hysteria that everything is about to come to an end, because the way I look at it, there isn’t’ much I can do about it anyway. Does that make me a pessimist?

But there are some telltale signs that our civilization as we know it is in dire straits. First of all, what the heck was my darling John Cusack doing in that horrible end of the world movie, 2012 anyway? Never mind, I still adore him. I’ll take that guy over Brad Pitt any day (in case you were ordering ahead for me, like a good friend would).

But if you are looking for signs that the human race is in trouble, look no further than your flat screen. More than a few million viewers witnessed the Kardashian wedding. That’s proof enough for me. A few zillion more bought a magazine featuring naked photos of Lindsay Lohan, the alcoholic childhood star that Disney produced. Nice. We do love our train wrecks, don’t we?

While I could wax poetically about why this is a disheartening fact, I would prefer to see the positive. Bear with me; this is sort of a new thing for me, the whole “glass-half-full” concept. It takes practice and a great deal more effort for me than you know, unless you are the Carpenter, my ever-optimistic spouse.

The Carpenter refuses to search for answers, deeper meanings, universal signs or blessings in disguise. He takes every minute as it comes, however it arrives and then lets it pass. No retrospection required. He doesn’t analyze a thing. The man baffles me.

I’m taking a page from him in 2012. In fact, I am so determined to be as chilled, relaxed and unflappable as he is that I may actually break his calm demeanour.

Let’s start with back fat. Yes ladies, I said it: back fat. You know, those wings of flabby padding that highlight the delicate features of your shoulder blades? Yep. That’s it. I am going to accept those pillows as the burgeoning foundation of my angelic wings. They may not be the Victoria’s Secret wings I used to long for, but this is 2012. These are realism wings. Hallelujah to self-acceptance.

Yes, I am going to be a radical in 2012 and I am not even going to apologize for it. Sorry, but that’s just the way it is. Only excuse me, because I’m not sorry. Darn it, the whole rudeness thing might take me some time. Forgive me. Ugh. 

Here’s what I know about 2012: it’s going to be whatever we make it. Let’s smarten up. Let’s love more and get happy. Let’s flap our fat wings and spread some joy. It’s 2012, eat potato chips and lighten up.



Kelly Waterhouse