Exactly how much of me do you want in your life? Note: Please don't answer that question actually. We'll just assume it's a large quantity.

You know those moments where you are just doing your thing, and then all of a sudden, the glimmering white light of brilliance comes out of nowhere and blinds you...and when you come to, you are standing on the pinnacle of your dreams?

Yeah, well that's not what I'm going to be writing about. Actually, what I'm going to be writing about is much more...well, base in it's nature. Maybe not base...maybe....bass?

I have a plan this year. Scratch that- it's not a plan. Definitely not a plan. I'm not even sure if it has any plan-like features, other than having the obligatory goal at the end. Actually...all it that it is is a goal. And I suppose, isn't that what New Years is all about? We make resolutions, we make goals, and they sound good and make us feel like we're moving forward- even if most of them are strewn by the wayside within a matter of weeks (I suppose that this is where one could make the argument that the basic tenets of planning can alleviate all of this failure. Eff that).

My goal for 2011 is to blog more. Yes, dear reader, with a host of noble causes and efforts that I could have tapped into in order to bring myself into a more intense state of wholeness, I decided that I want to blog more. As in, a lot more. As in, every-single-day more.

Yes, I know. You've heard this song and dance before. I can't even begin to count how many times I've talked about wanting to write more, apologizing for not writing more, promised to write more about x topic (sincerest apologies to Jack Bauer and textbooks everywhere). I've talked big and walked small. I have failed.

So I accept any and all skepticism. And if I can find a way to process that down to it's natural elemental state, I will grind it into a powder and throw it into a sort of motivational stew. Then I will pump that stew into my veins through an IV.

I should forewarn you that this will probably mean posts that seem like filler (like this one could arguably be)- at least in the beginning. The way it goes, so I'm told, is that if you constantly stay at it, pounding away during those times of mental blankness, a habit of writing will eventually form, and then my fingers upon the letter keys will begin to consistently spew the literary equivalent of rainbow-pooping puppies. There's a good chance that I could bring peace to the Middle East and a Super Bowl to the Lions as well. So now don't you feel bad about complaining about my post detailing my accomplishments in Tetris?

Do I have a plan to accomplish this gargantuan task? Of course not! And that, BTWs, is all part of the plan. See, that way, if I fail, I can blame it on a lack of a plan. A latent function of this decided lack of preparedness is that I am setting pieces in place for my eventual foray into politics.

Tomorrow I will be writing about Rich Rodriguez, the possibly-soon-to-be-erstwhile coach of the University of Michigan Wolverines. Otherwise, I might write about what I had for breakfast. Either way, it's bound to be.