Every January, two people who don't get along have an obligation to get together - The Person You Actually Are and The Person You Would Like to Be.
These two versions of yourself are forced to meet for a proverbial cup of coffee to discuss your future soon after Jan. 1, while your head is still throbbing, your mouth is foaming and your New Years dress smells like a mixture of regurgitated champagne, cheap perfume and sausage, for some reason.
These two people aren't all that different - they look the same - except one is thinner and never gets dry skin or a bad haircut. For that reason, The Person You Actually Are is envious and shoulders resentment. But these two have some business and must discuss resolutions.
My two nemeses get together for an existential meeting at a deserted diner. I was sitting cross-legged in a Badgers hoody when in waltzed The Person I Would Like to Be. She's 4 inches taller, walks with sheer grace despite bitchin' high heels and, most importantly, she has never dated a guy who carries a wallet made out of duct tape.
Let's cut to the chase, Ashley,"" Better Me says. ""I've got a lot to do today - I'm catching a plane to Dublin, I have to start and finish my novel and I'm going to lose 15 pounds after dinner. What are your resolutions?""
""I want to make one I know I can keep to motivate me,"" I say. ""After I saw 'Juno,' I realized the worst thing that could possibly happen to me right now would be to get pregnant. So I resolve not to get knocked up.""
She motions for the waiter and tells him to take my milkshake back and bring me a tall glass of water.
""Well. That's nice,"" she says. ""Wait. Tell me you aren't dating that guy with the duct tape money handler?""
""No."" I said. ""But sometimes I text message him and we end up playing with Post-It notes.""
""ASHLEY!""
""I'm sorry! But I can't help it that I'm vaguely attracted to sticky office supplies. Anyway I was actually thinking of doing some more reading. I just bought these books and...""
""Listen,"" the Better Me says, fixing her hair. ""I just got engaged to an Irish musician who's a stockbroker and a football player. Do you know anyone like that?""
""Puh-lease.""
""Alright,"" she says, ""Start small. How about not singing ""I Touch Myself"" when you karaoke? Especially with co-workers. It's just not exactly professional, particularly when you do 'The Moves.'""
""Really? Everyone laughs...""
""Exactly,"" she says. ""And can't you at least wear pants when people come over? Please stop asking for a 'large and in charge' Diet Coke when you go through the McDonald's drive thru. Must you wear plaid headbands with dangly earrings?""
""But I like those things.""
""Stop watching 'True Life: I'm a Chubby Chaser,' peeing in handicap stalls and eating entire tubs of spreadable cheese. It's not who we are.""
Now she had me pissed. I. Freaking. Love. Cheese. So, I got up and dumped my water on her stunning hair.
""So you've met all of the goals I've set,"" I say. Yeah, you slept with Jake Gyllenhaal, lived on a Vineyard and know how to file your own taxes. I'm glad you help people in Africa, because frankly, I probably never will. But you're just a pseudo wet dream and without me, you'd be nothing."" I stormed out.
The Better Version of Me tried calling next week to meet again. But I didn't really feel like it - she was kind of a psycho bitch and was forever irritable because she was always hungry. But before I erased everything she said from my memory, I erased ""Tape Wallet"" from my cell phone.
If you have a duct tape wallet, stay away from Ashley. If you're anyone else, e-mail her at aaspencer@wisc.edu.
