Happy New Year!

So, every year instead of making one New Year resolution, I make 100 of them.

It is usually at this point that jaws drop and people get all crazed. 100?!?!

Yeah, 100. My theory is this. It is a given that I'll never accomplish all 100 resolutions, but with 100 of them I am bound to be successful at one or two or five of them so there is no pressure to fail at my one New Year resolution. I figure if I hit the 20% mark it has been a pretty good year.

So, the last couple of years I have put "Do the NaNoWriMo in November" (which I have been successful at the last three years thankyouverymuch). However, I didn't put that on my list for 2010.

I put down something much crazier....

#17 - Word of the Day stories - Blog

This is actually something I have wanted to do for a while but have never made the time for, or had the guts to try it. In a nutshell, I have been getting the "Word of the Day" emails from Dictionary.com since for forever and it has always been my idea to write a short story (around on page max!) as a way to learn the word, use the word, retain the meaning blah blah blah. I have a few stories here and there but I have never been self disciplined enough to write every day.

Well, that is the goal this year my friends. A story a day for all of 2010. Nothing like starting the year with grand plans, eh?

Without further ado...

Word of the Day: Friday, January 1, 2010

panacea

1. A remedy for all diseases, problems, or evils; a universal medicine; a cure-all

He stared dully across his living room at the various items of New Year's Eve celebration litter. Horns, hats, and copious amounts of confetti lay discarded amongst empty, lipstick stained champagne glasses. The Christmas tree lights were still on and blinking forlornly over in the corner, although now that he scrutinized the scene it appeared that the tree was on the verge of falling over.

He sat there silently trying to remember if anyone had been too inebriated to drive home, straining his ears for the sound of drunk snoring from one of the back rooms. Nothing. Clearly the biggest blow out party of the year hadn't been the panacea for company that he had been hoping for. Sure, everyone had come over and it had been fun, raucous time full of karaoke, dancing, and he vaguely remembered fireworks, but he had secretly been hoping that there would be someone there in the morning. Anyone. That he would have a guest to cook a big breakfast for. Eggs, scones, a pile of fresh fruit. He had been too self-conscious to invite his guests to breakfast, fearing that they would laugh at his “slumber party” idea.

He stood up, mentally noted that he should take some of the champagne glasses with him to the kitchen, but instead left them standing on the coffee table. He slid the cranberry-lemon scones into the oven for a slight warming and started the espresso maker on the stove. He continued to rattle and bump around the kitchen set on having the breakfast anyway, even if it was just for himself.

A head of messy blonde hair suddenly poked around the kitchen door frame, “Hi,” she said with a sheepish smile, “I, uh, guess I passed out in a closet back there last night?”

He stared, frozen with surprise, looking absurd with both of his arms sticking out in front of him, an oven mitt on one hand and pancake turner in the other.

“Um, I'll get going as soon as I find my, uh, shoes and.....uh, my....” she trailed off her sentence sheepishly, nervously shifting her weight from one foot to the other.
He became increasingly aware that he still had his arms in the air.

The scones were just starting to brown a little, and the heady smell of the espresso was filling the kitchen.

His face broke into a warm smile.