So we have on more day until the end of 2010, and as per usual, it’s time to make your New Year’s resolutions. I must admit I make my resolutions on New Year’s Eve, but I often forget what I promised to do after my champagne-induced stupor. So, I’m writing them down ahead of time before me and the hubster go flying on two sheets via the wind like Alladin in that one Disney movie. Feel free to add yours, for proof and a reminder after your hangover.

In 2011, I solemnly resolve:

Not to laugh when the baby farts.

To finish my book, Swirling: How to Date, Mate & Relate, Mixing Race, Culture and Creed (actually I HAVE to this one, or Simon & Schuster will extract a chuck of my flesh–most likely from the buttocks area)

To make NEKKID YOGA a cult-like fitness program as wish with ALL MY MIGHT that my arse can look like this:

To make more Barbie stop-motion videos about how silly some black folks are about interracial and intercultural relationships

To make No Wedding No Womb! a nonprofit organization, and take this show on the road.

To make Roman shades better than the Romans did.

To enter some sort of rehab program for my addiction to TJ Maxx, Marshalls, and iStockPhoto.

To shower everyday before 1:00 PM

To learn how to use a camera. And do fractions. And decimals. And algebra.

To start a new health and beauty category for BB&W, complete with guests, health experts, product recommendations and occasional giveaways. Who’s interested?

Okay; so what’s your promise to yourself? Next year, we’ll hold you accountable, you know, like your mother does. And we’ll spank you. But just remember it hurts us more than it hurts you.