Calendar

It’s another New Year and you know what the means – time to get a new calendar.

That’s right. In today’s techno age, you might think a man like me would be happy with his phone or his computer.

Make no mistake – none of those things make me happy.

I’m more of a nuts and bolts type of guy. I like material items. It’s the same reason I eat food rather than looking at pictures of food. I need a good flip book for the year, so that I can thumb through the calendar and it creates a sort of cartoon that is completely disjointed.

I like to write funny things down, like “Today is Tuesday” on ever Tuesday. Or “Quit smoking” or “Quit drinking” knowing that neither will happen.

What’s more, I like to cross out holidays that I don’t celebrate. It gives me a real joy in knowing that I got that holiday out of the way, even if I don’t plan on observing it.

Like Flag Day.

There are more conveniences as well – try checking your calendar on your phone when you’re on the phone. I did it once and it was nerve racking. I had to put the caller on speaker, then find where my calendar was and then tell him “OH, WAIT – I never use this thing.”

But calendars cost money. That’s why I sometimes just use old calendars and spend a good portion of the year rewriting the dates. Like the one I have from High School. I will sometimes leave in whatever was written on it too! Oh, WOW – I have a date with my sweetheart from Creative Cooking this Thursday!

I also like going to the local book store (local for this state) and figuring out what calendar best describes me. Am I more of a ducks on a pond kind of guy or (insert TV show) dude? Normally, I will pick a calendar that doesn’t describe me at all. That way I can hone the personality of, say, a guy who’s 35 and likes Twilight.

When I purchase the calendar I always say to the clerk “I hope this goes well.” That’s my type of humor.

Unfortunately, no clerk has ever laughed at this and one time I was boo’ed from the store.

Some calendars come with stickers and crayons and stuff like that. Like the one I got a year ago from my mother who still insists I have Downs Syndrome.

Oh, Mom!

At the close of the year I will trade calendars with my friend Rupert and we will rate our years based on the entries.

For instance, last September, Rupert gave me a “C” as I had only a dentist appointment and “GET BURRITOS” written down for the whole month.

Whereas, last February, I got an “A” for such entries as “Express interest in Erica”, “Ask Erica out”, “Tell Erica you love her”, “Ask Erica to marry you”, and “Apologize to Erica”.

On the final day of the year I will look back at my calendar and relish in my accomplishments. For instance, I didn’t overcome my alcohol dependency, but I did manage to clean my bathroom. And maybe this wasn’t the year to stop borrowing money from my Mother, but it was the year that I got a silk screen Metallica poster.

And now I find myself with an empty calendar – chock full of empty pages that I can write my hopes and dreams on for 2012.

Of course, on December 21 I have already written “Die.”

Which really puts a lot of pressure on this year – it’s the last one. Like Y2K. I remember living Y2K the way it should be lived: lots of booze, coke, and sex. And I also remember how the world didn’t end and I ended up with lots of disease, debt, and imprisonment.

Therefore, I have learned my lesson and let no one say that I wasn’t wise when planning my 2012. I have decided to survive the tsunami of death that will rain upon this Earth come December. Here’s how:

June 1: Make spaceship.

So, as you can see, a physical calendar is the way to go. Call it old fashioned, but I’m sticking to it.

And now I can cross “Write calendar post” off my calendar.

Ta