Once again, my New Year’s resolution is to stop talking. So far, and I believe this is the 50th year I’ve tried this, I’ve been unsuccessful. I can’t seem to stop blogging about how bloated I am, writing books about people who do terrible things, many of which never see the light of day, or giving people advice about how to remove or grow more hair. A lot of people feel they have the right amount of hair, and that’s fine. Honestly, who am I to tell them they don’t. In lieu of my unwanted advice, I’m going back to my 2017 resolution, which was to only give you flowers. Flowers are the thing I love most in the world, aside from my family, and talking. When I can’t write, I buy flowers and take thousands of pictures of them. I dream of having a flower business one day and giving up writing for good. Flowers are better than me. They don’t tell people what to do, they certainly don’t suggest giving up dairy to strangers, and they don’t have crippling social anxiety. They don’t do anything, really, except make people feel better by not talking. So, here we go. One more time. Just flowers. From me to you. For as long as I can stand it.