Let’s get down to brass tax


What’s up, guys? Miss me? Hopefully you all had a lovely winter break filled with love, laughter, and Baileys in your coffee. I certainly did.

Alright, enough with the pleasantries. I suffered through enough small talk to kill an auctioneer this holiday season, and I’m done with it. Let’s get down to brass tax here — New Year’s resolutions.

I’ve never really been one for resolutions, mostly because I always thought I was already so great that there was next to no room for improvement. However, I recently realized a fairly severe flaw in my character that has proven me wrong. So, so wrong.

I hate learning. And trying. If I’m not naturally good at something, I immediately hate it. It is childish and ridiculous, but it is who I am.

I’ll give you a little backstory. My birthday was at the end of October, and I received a lovely pair of hockey skates. I’m more of a house cat than a Patrik Laine during the winter months, but the winter dream of being able to sauce a puck around with my friends made me excited. I used to go for an annual skate just so they’d let me keep my Canadian passport, but even that ended about five years ago.

Now, I’m not sure if you can tell by looking at me (just kidding, you can definitely tell by looking at me), but I am less athletic than a table lamp. I have no natural ability, minimal hand-eye coordination, and two left feet (unless I’m on a dance floor). Oh, and, as I mentioned earlier, I hate being bad at stuff, so I avoid sports at all costs.

Long story short, I hop in my dude’s truck, we drive to the rink, strap on the old rocket boots, and I panic. I walked halfway to the rink and turned around. Didn’t even make it onto the ice before quitting.

Are you kidding me, Fletch?

I pouted for a while, frowned a lot, swore even more than that, and when I was ready to be a grown-up again I decided that my New Year’s resolution was going to be to try more. Also, as a sub-resolution, I’m going to start saying “let’s get down to brass tax” more. Seriously, how funny was that?

I’ll keep you up to date, folks. Glad to be back!


Answers to Fletch, Betty Spaghetti, or Hey You.

Long, shaggy blonde hair.

Slightly aggressive at first but usually warms up after she smells you.

Feed her pizza and she’ll be the most loyal friend you’ll ever have.

Follow her on Twitter @kylakylakyla__