1. This year I vow that I will never get another “Brazilian.” Or, for that matter, any other spa treatment that involves me not wearing pants while someone holding hot wax instructs me to “grab your knees and get into the cannonball position.”

2. This year I will work up the courage to go to PTA meetings in my Kate Gosselin wig and sunglasses and yell, “Sit yo ass down, dummy!” every time someone starts talking.

3. This year I will tell Dickens the cat to either learn how to brew coffee or open her own g-damn packet of Friskies at 6 a.m.

4. This year I will finally let my Fanilow Freak Flag fly when I go to Vegas in March to see Barry. And I will even happily wear the custom t-shirt my sister made for me that says, “She lost her youth, and she lost her Tony, now she’s lost her mind.”

5. This year I will explain to my 8 year-old son that, while we are thrilled he’s taken an interest in music, he really needs to stop singing his original song “Someone Smells and It’s Not Me” ten times a day. I will then explain to his 6 year-old brother that he needs to stop singing his original song, “I Not Smelly, You Are, Jerkface” ten times a day in response.

6. This year I will try to become more famous. (Step 1: Crash a joint session of Congress in my Mylar helicopter. Step 2: Strangle a Kardashian.)

7. This year I will make myself download some hipper music so iTunes will finally stop recommending that I buy the collected works of England Dan & John Ford Coley and/or the soundtrack to “Larry the Cable Guy: Health Inspector.”

8. This year I will not crank the heat up to 80 and yell, “Beach party!” every time my husband goes out of town.

9. This year I will improve my cooking skills so much that we will no longer need the two emergency fire extinguishers and ten boxes of baking soda under our kitchen sink.

10. This year I will threaten to give an atomic wedgie to anyone who’s blabbing away on their cell phone while I’m next to them at the gym. Yeah, I’m talking to you, weird guy who works out in swim trunks and hiking boots. Hang up already.

11. This year I will sit down with my neighbor Terri and tell her the real reason that nobody likes her isn’t because she’s from Canada; it’s because she smells like vitamins and begins every other sentence with “Who do I have to blow…”

12. This year I will also sit down with my neighbor Gary and tell him the real reason that nobody likes him isn’t because he looks like Susan Boyle in Wranglers; it’s because he’s a jackass.

13. This year I will maybe try to get some new neighbors.

14. This year I will once again make an effort to stop drunk dialing Larry King, and telling the call screener that my name is, “Wendi from The Waffle House” and I urgently need to talk to Larry about getting in his will because “time is ticking, my friend.”

15. And finally, this year I will no longer write blog posts after being trapped in the house for ten days with two little kids, an incontinent cat and an expired container of Egg Nog. I really, really will.