2014

Don't worry. I'm not going to get all mushy and reflective on you.

Why start now?

Instead, let me tell you a few of things we're teeing up here in Bermtopia for 2014. . . stuff you'll ultimately live and re-live with me through this blog.

I have no filters.

WORK

On New Year's Eve, at the Chamber of Horrors work, I walked into my boss's office and handed in my early notification of retirement. I am outta there August 31. The best part -- she one-upped me: My boss is retiring July 7. Hilarity ensues.

HOME

The Nine-One-Four goes on the market by mid-March. My date and I are still negotiating a few of the touch-ups required for this auspicious occasion, but it will happen. We have NO IDEA OF WHAT WE WILL DO OR WHERE WE WILL GO if the house sells fast.

But right now, I am more worried about accidentally leaving dirty underwear on the bathroom floor while it is listed. It happens, people, it happens.

And hilarity ensues. Again.

WORK

I want to work part time after I retire. At something fun and hip like Trader Joe's or Williams-Sonoma. . . just like every other 60+-year-old woman who fancies herself a Martha Stewart on steroids. This, of course, means getting back into the job market. And we all know how well THAT went the last time I applied for a part-time job.

You guessed it. Hilarity ensues.

P.S. If you've got a fun, hip part-time job -- call me.

TRAVEL

It's time to unleash ourselves on the European continent once again. Spain, maybe. Or Greece. Or, what the hell, maybe both. September feels like a good month for this to happen.

EU, you have been warned. Ole.

PEE

Yep. Pee.

Poor Ben. He's having some night time incontinence. Don't judge. It happens when you're 91-years-old in dog years.

The good news: There are pills for it. The bad news: Ben doesn't like them. And has figured out how to eat around pretty much every type of food camouflage we've tried. Except for the Christmas turkey. And we're out of that.

Hello, leaking hilarity. And rotisserie chicken.

Ben: You're right. You have no filters.
But I will consider rotisserie chicken.

And finally, HUGH JACKMAN

Being the wild, crazy party animals that we are, my date and I ushered in the New Year by heating up a jar of Newman's Own spaghetti sauce and watching "Wolverine," reinforcing a profound universal truth that we should all remember. There needs to be more Hugh Jackman in all of our lives.

Who knew a bad haircut and terminally furrowed brow could be so cute?

Let the ensuing hunky hilarity begin!

Now, please.

Here's to a Happy Hugh Jackman New Year
for One and All!