I would like to wish everyone a happy new year; except for the person that lives above us. I hope he drops dead in 2007. And his little dog too. (Imagine Rose in wicked witch costume saying this- I know this will not be too challenging! Cackle!) I will not go into details just now. Other than a little bubbly, our celebration will be tame as a couple of little old Victorian ladies. Maybe I'll knit something! If only I knew how....that sounds a little like a resolution...in reality, though, I have been inspired by another's blog to attempt to cut refined sugar out of my diet. I notice the less I eat, the better and less slug-like I feel. I have my husband's full support, and we will attempt to enter the next year a little healthier. We realize this may seem too small a step for some, and too crazy for others, but hey, we do what we can.
So, the results of the experiment. I noticed that if I didn't call anyone that no one calls me. I feel loved. After a little over 2 weeks, some good friends in Omaha remembered that we do indeed have a valid phone number. I mean, c'mon, people, it's not even long distance. It's even the same number! Hopefully a new year will bring a little more contact. We moved because we wanted a change of scenery, not a change of society. ;)
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I guess that's some advice I forgot to pass on - never move in underneath someone. The woman and her little running son above us have made that point quite nicely. And as for your experiment - no offence, but when people move away they get called less. There's no point calling you up to invite you to HIRO when you can't come... therefore conversations are expected to be in the vein of catching up, which requires a greater time commitment and the chance that you both think to call someone and have the time to talk all at once. It's like trying to get all the planets aligned... I wish I thought to call people more often, but I just don't. I'd like to think that all the times I think to call make up for the times I don't. So there you go, I'm just a poopy friend.
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