NEW YEAR 2016 MEETING MINUTES. Sixteen staff members in attendance. Five staff members absent because it’s past 8PM and they’re afraid of loud noises. Call to order: December 31, 2015 at 11:45PM. ANNA-XXI moves to approve minutes from last NEW YEAR meeting. ANNA-XX seconds. Motion passes with five basic teens abstaining. ANNA-XXI moves to approve agenda. ANNA-XX seconds. Motion passes unanimously. ANNA-XXI begins the meeting.
Anna-XIX rested her fingers on her used typewriter, proudly purchased from a hoarder off Etsy, to look up at her outgoing leader. The 21-year-old before her took a shaky breath and stood up from her seat at the far end of the conference table.
ANNA-XXI takes a moment to choke back real tears before proceeding:
“I must say, it has been uh… a tough year, and I am so thankful for those of you that supported me—us—through all the ups and downs. For those that didn’t: I hope you choke on the PBRs you snuck in here.”
Meeting takes a recess. The teenagers, save for Anna-XVIII and -XIX, guzzle down as much of their booze as they can before SECURITY confiscates their watered-down trash. Meeting resumes.
“Thanks a lot, Pigtails,” comments one of the aforementioned teens.
ANNA-XXI jumps at the insult to defend herself, explaining she felt nostalgic and thus wore her hair like her favourite Rugrat, Kimi Finster. ANNA-XVI interjects, stating this is why they only had one date during her entire run. ANNA-XXI rebuts, stating that they technically had two, even if one of their dates turned out to be a creep that swiped right for their cosplays as an obscure high school anime character. She further argues that at least her pigtails proved she achieved one of her New Year resolutions, which was to dress up her hair everyday. ANNA-XVI, having not followed through with her only resolution of writing in her diary every day, falls silent.
ANNA-XXI: “Forget it, we only have a minute left now. I’ll keep it short: be respectful and constructive with your comments and questions, rather than being the total assholes that some of you were last year when I had my debut. Hopefully you won’t make her cry, but I know if we just—”
The elevator’s arrival made a sound from out in the hallway. It was time. All the Annas stood up and took out their kazoos while Anna-XXI scurried to her new one beside Anna-XIX. On 3, 2, 1…
ANNA-XXII arrives.
“Happy new year to me!” The new Anna sauntered into the room as Anna-XXI pulled the rope. The noise of applause and kazoos died down before the last of the diary-page-confetti fluttered to the floor.
“On behalf of Annas past, I, Anna of 2015, hereby welcome you, Anna of 2016, to a new year of growth, adventure, and excellence. So, what plans do you have for us this year?”
ANNA-XXII’s three NEW YEAR resolutions: to embrace minimalism, lose weight, and save money to travel.
The young ladies immediately began to whisper among themselves. Anna-VI raised her hand.
ANNA-VI: “What’s minneh-meh-leh-miz-muh?”
ANNA-XVI: “It means we have to kiss all our possessions good night every time we tuck ourselves in that twig bed we just bought from IKEA. But don’t worry, with the only things left in our room it won’t be taking that long every night, right Anna?”
ANNA-XXII sets the record straight about minimalism, citing The Minimalists as her inspiration and rejecting having heard anything about the “frou-frou guru Kondo and her magical book.” Her left eye twitches.
ANNA-XXI clears her throat: “These are pretty, uh, optimistic resolutions. I should remind you that all Annas since 2012 have had a fitness resolution; it didn’t turn out well.”
ANNA-XXII: “Well, of course! You guys didn’t have a Fitbit then. With our Fitbit, we can track our progress and compete with friends so that we can feel bad about ourselves together and get the motivation we need. Plus, we need to get bikini-ready for our trip to somewhere where we can do some really important soul-searching, like Hawaii!”
ANNA-XXI raises financial issues, reminding the board that only one of their eight semesters are paid off on OSAP: “We have a ton of student loans to pay the bank and mom and dad. I mean, we can ask them for more help, but ever since we explained our dream is to be a pet therapist—”
ANNA-XXII: “No, none of you could do it. Besides, how can you not afford to travel? It’s something everyone needs to do before they go out into the real world.”
ANNA-XXI: “This is the real world! Look, I just think if you reworded your resolutions, or broke them down to specific, realistic goals, then maybe we won’t have such a hard time—”
SECURITY bursts in. The ANNA-PRIME autopilot has already followed through with ANNA-XXII’s first resolution by throwing out all the food in her fridge and setting fire to her closet. SECURITY notes “There can only be one” was uttered; it is unclear if this was referring to outfits or possible decisions. “We haven’t even had our third midnight snack yet!” is heard in the conference room.
ANNA-XVI moves to adjourn meeting. ANNA-XXI seconds. Motion passes with only ANNA-XXII opposing. Meeting is adjourned.
ANNA-XXII’s lip quivers as most of the ANNAs and SECURITY rush to the control room. ANNA-XXII orders ANNA-XIX to stop typing, shoving the typewriter off the table when she doesn’t. ANNA-XXII scolds herself and suddenly kisses it, quietly thanking it for its hard work over the years, before stomping the hell out of its keys. ANNA-XXII exits. Meeting adjourns at 12:11 AM. ANNA-XIX picks up the slightly dented typewriter to finish the meeting minutes.