Long time listener, first time caller

When I checked the Chinese Calendar at the end of last year, as is my tradition (insert sarcastic mannerism – you’ll get it), I noticed that 2015 is the year of the goat.  The GOAT!! Now, those of you who do not know me well are not aware that I had an unfortunate run-in with a goat when I was about 7 years old.

My parents took me and my younger brother, who would have been about 4, to a petting zoo.  Innocent enough fun.  I really can’t describe the day to you at all, I don’t know where this place was, I don’t remember the weather, the smells, ANY of the other animals I saw and undoubtedly had a pleasant exchange with as they probably just ate the feed that I offered them in a polite and appreciative manner.  I’m sure all of that happened, all the while me with a huge smile on my face, unfortunate buck-teeth gleaming in the very likely spring-time sun, unable to be reigned in by my lips.  I probably ate a hamburger and some popcorn.  It’s likely that I told my parents how much fun I was having.  There’s a really good chance that I fought with my brother about something.  I’m sure I must have gone to use the bathroom at some point.  But I remember none of that.

All I remember is the goat.  As with all the other animals in a petting zoo, the goats were in an open, but gated yard.  I breached the gate with respectfully gentle movements, feed in hand and quietly approached the animals.  Other kids were scattered around the yard, each offering up a handful of feed for their respective quadraped pals.  I found one that was waiting patiently for a tiny little palm to lick clean and approached him.  “Hey there, little buddy, you hungry?” my shy but alto-toned voice peeped as I outstretched my hand.  He replied promptly with aggressive nibbles at the snack I offered.  In three or four licks, it was gone.  I had no more food to offer.  He looked up at me expectedly as I nervously tried to avoid eye contact with this animal that was quickly changing from eager petting zoo pal into some sort of demon.  I turned to my parents, far on the other side of the gate, hoping they would bring me more feed to quell the goat-devil’s appetite, his appetite for anything.  They were too far away and could not read the pleas from my tiny little brown eyes.  They did not know I needed saving.  But soon they would see, they would see it all too clearly … goat-devil got tired of waiting, he bumped me.  He bumped me again, and on the third bump, my skinny little 45 pound frame was thrown violently to the ground.  And then the physical battery began, he thrashed back and forth on top of me, I felt teeth, I swear I felt teeth and I felt like I would be eaten alive then and there by this renegade petting zoo resident, tired of being a plaything of small curious children who knew nothing of farm animals.   I know in my heart of hearts that the only thing that saved me was the fact that I literally had no fat on me.  I probably wouldn’t have made a good meal.  He lost interest and allowed me to unroll from my fetal position and hit the ground running to my parents on the other side of the gate.  As I moved closer, I saw my smiling dad standing next to some lady with a camera.  My mom!  What the hell, ma?!  I just narrowly escaped getting mauled by a wild demonic goat and you’re taking pictures?

Now, they tell the story a bit differently, in fact, all they say is this: “Kris, you’re over-reacting, the goat was trying to scratch itself against you and you were so skinny that you fell down.  It didn’t bite you, you weren’t in any danger.”  Whatever, ma.  If this was such a non-issue, why is it one of my most vivid childhood memories?  30 years later!

So, back to the year of the Goat.  2015 is such a year, as is the year I was born, 1979.  Coincidence?  I think not!  In my vast research on Chinese culture, I also learned that it is bad luck when your birth year animal rolls around again.  That would mean 2015 SHOULD be a bad year for me, unless I wear something red given to me by an elder.   Examples given on one website are: socks, a neck cord, underwear, a waistband, a bracelet, or an anklet.  Thank goodness my wacky (now deceased, may she rest in peace) grandmother did, in fact, give me some lovely lacy red underthings one Christmas before she passed away.   Whew!

But I have other plans, it seems this goat has been haunting me for too long, I’ve decided that 2015 is the year that I break free from this goat-demon and make it the year of Kristine.  That’s right, this is the year I make my life what I want it to be.  In January, I signed up for a writing class.  There, I met an amazing writing partner and finally started working on my novel that I’ve had stirring in my brain for several years.  I’ve decided to take my own health and that of my family more seriously.   I’m going to be a happy person EVERY DAY, no matter the crap that will inevitably come my way.  This will be the first year that will truly be MY YEAR, down with the goat!

Nobody can do everything on their own, so I’m putting my goals in writing and hoping that you, my readers, my family, my friends, or strangers that will become my friends & family, will help me achieve the following by December 31, 2015:

1. I will have a full-length novel written (not necessarily publisher-ready, but something that makes sense).
2. I will have 300 loyal blog readers/followers.
3. I will continue to work on my overall health & fitness and that of my family.
4. I will help 50 people get on track with their own fitness goals (I’m currently at 7 in my first month of Beachbody coaching, let me know if you want to help me with this).
5. I will facilitate 17 pee-laughing incidents (please report to me if you do this, I need your honesty to keep track of this one, and be assured this data will not be published, numbers only).

Good day, folks 🙂