Hello 2019

You know that one stock photo image of the beautiful, fit, young woman sitting on a couch cradling a steaming mug in her hands as she smiles contentedly into the middle distance? She's wearing impossibly flattering athleisure wear and a chunky sweater, and her hair is in that perfect "I don't care" messy bun that still looks great. The couch is overstuffed, but roomy, and her long legs are folded up under her in a way that looks comfortable, but never actually is when you try it in real life. The lighting is usually warm and soft, and the house is spotlessly neat and decorated with understated sophistication. The whole thing exudes coziness and contentment.

I recently finished listening to Brené Brown's I Thought It Was Just Me (but it isn't) audiobook. At one point she talks about a particular advertising image that she has internalized and set up as a standard for herself and her life which she now struggles to let go of. It doesn't matter what it was exactly; the point is that as she was describing it I thought "that's kind of weird. I've definitely never done that."

Cut to this morning. I was sitting on my couch at 10am, holding my mug of steaming tea, and having a moment of intense gratitude as I luxuriated in the bright morning sunlight filling my living room. And suddenly I had the thought "this is it, Emily. This is that moment that you're always seeing in pictures and wondering why you never experience it in real life. You don't have the perfectly clean and decorated house, you don't look fresh-faced and effortlessly put together, and you don't have that beautiful lithe body, but this is exactly what you're always pining for. Those details don't negate what you're experiencing right now"

But no, Brené. I've definitely never internalized an advertising image and set it up as an unattainable ideal for my life...

I decided I wanted to post a status about what a great moment I was experiencing, but my brother called me and I had to block out the scarf I just knitted, and then my dog reminded me that I promised her we'd go on a walk an hour ago, so I didn't get to the facebook status.

I did, however, take Tess on her walk. We walked down around the cemetery, which is normal, and then crossed 9th and State streets to visit the little park behind the school, which is not. We crossed paths with a few humans and a couple dogs. We spent some time playing on the school's playground equipment (Tess adores playground equipment). We walked past the house I used to live in and looked at the other beautiful old homes on the same street. Crossing back over State street to finish circling the cemetery there was a woman stopped at the light who was watching us cross in front of her and smiling. It was sunny and breezy and there was snow on the lawns, but the sidewalks were almost all dry. It was a perfect walk in every way. When we were nearly home, I suddenly became aware of how much easier a walk like this was compared to when I first got Tess two years ago. I’ve long since given up on the idea that walking Tess was ever going to really improve my fitness, so this was an immensely gratifying realization.

As I walked I thought about my morning, what I really wanted to say about it, and what a beautiful day it was. I didn't even make the Brené Brown connection till I was halfway through. When I finally got home a little while ago and started writing, however, I realized I had more to say than would fit in a facebook update...though as it turns out, a lot of it is just context and narration.

I think that what most caught my attention was realizing that, at least for today, I’m ok with the places where I fell short of the ideal. I love my big, strong, soft body that is stubborn and slow to change, just like me...because it is me. I love my messy, eclectic home with dog hair in the corners. I am satisfied with my priorities, which don’t often include doing my hair and putting on makeup.

I guess what I really wanted to say is that today is a good day, and I am happy.

Day 6: What literary world would you choose to live in?

I'm not going to try to double up on posts today because I missed yesterday. I'll just tack on another day at the end. Because I'm chill like that. Anyway, the day 6 prompt, as you can see, is what literary world would I choose to live in, taking into account the fact all worlds have both good and bad in them, and I cannot forget to consider the bad.

This is kind of a difficult question. I have read many books with many worlds.

The first thing to consider is basic everyday quality of life. I don't want to be transported back to the dark ages because I like baths and toilet paper. I also like electricity and modern medicine. So Middle Earth and Narnia are out, along with Damar, Pern, the Cosmere, the six Duchies, Prydain, Ingary and the Nine Worlds, and The Old Kingdom. I think The House is out as well, as their strike rate on modern conveniences is sporadic at best. Basically 90% of fantasy is now ruled out.

Next let's look at the environmental dangers. I am not interested in a place where I must maintain constant vigilance lest I be eaten by a large savage beastie. This rules out historical fiction. Also most of Neil Gaiman's works if we're being honest. I don't want a place where the government is openly willing to kill me, so no PanEm, no Community, no Big Brother; basically no dystopian fiction of any sort.

Now I've narrowed the field quite a lot, here are my list of top runners, either because they met the conditions above, or I am interested enough in the pros to put up with the cons.
The Discworld
Dictionopolis
Enderverse
Meg Murray O'Keefe's universe
Lyra's Oxford

The Discworld I think would be so much fun to live in, but only if I was a witch or wealthy. I don't think the every day peasantry has a great experience. So while it survived the purge of  medieval worlds, I think it fails on economic disparity and the likelihood I wouldn't be end up one of those peasants.

Dictionopolis and the Kindgom of Words (I would not likely spend much time in the Kingdom of Numbers) frankly sounds delightful. I would enjoy the heck out of that place, and since they battle the Demons at the end and push them back into the Mountains of Ignorance, I think I would be relatively safe.

The Enderverse. Clearly this one wins on technological advancement. Thanks to Peter and the Buggers, it is also offers a unified humanity. AND there are the Buggers and the Piggies, two fascinating, intricate, evolved societies I could learn about. Of course, it's not as unified as one would hope, and humanity is still pretty terrified of things it doesn't understand....but thanks to Jane, instantaneous travel is now possible, which I think will resolve a lot of issues. So...this one is tempting.

as there is no good picture for this one, you get a picture of Phteven instead.

Meg's world is essentially the world we live in today, but with the accepted fact that there are worlds and even dimensions beyond ours, and beings we can't necessarily fathom. But on the other hand, not being Charles Wallace or one of his siblings, I don't think I'd likely get to take part in any of those aspects, so maybe not this one....as beautiful and amazing as it may be.

Lastly, we have Lyra's Oxford (technically the whole world, but that seemed the most succinct name). This world is technologically only a generation or so behind our own. They have cars and plumbing and electricity. There's the Magisterium, but I get the impression that most normal people don't really engage with it much. Plus, by the end of the series, the Magesterium has suffered somewhat of a serious blow. In addition to the technological achievements, they have open and understood magic. They also have witches and the panserbjørn. And most of all, they have daemons. The animal representation of a part of your soul, your lifelong companion and friend. Your daemon which shapeshifts in your youth and then eventually settles on a form which represents some aspect of you. If you read those books and didn't long for your own daemon then you were lying to yourself.

In the end, I think Lyra's Oxford wins. Dictionopolis and the Enderverse are strong runners up, but I want to live in a world with magic and armored bears and witches. I want a world where they have a broader conception of what is and isn't possible. And I definitely want my own daemon.

Day 5: Slightly emo musings on the politics of friendship

Last night I got a bit of insomnia and didn't go to bed till I think just before 5am. I didn't wake up this morning till 1. I did not get my blog post written before I had to get ready for work. So here I am at 1:12 am after work trying to write something. Alas, I am not in a particularly writerly mood. I guess this is a good exercise in writing even when you don't feel like it.

Today's prompt is supposed to be what my favorite of the lesser holidays is. But my problem is that I don't feel like writing silly posts like that. On the other hand, I also don't feel like writing something intense and requiring of much thought. 

I guess I'll just share a quandary with you all that I've been mulling over today.

What do you do in a relationship when you find your trust in the other person is called into question? 

One of the core tenets of my life philosophy is a firm belief that there are some aspects of a person's experience where they must choose their truth. I think that the clearest example of this in my life has been my relationship with the church. I chose to continue believing in it regardless of the fact that I never got that spiritual confirmation most people base their belief on.

But should this philosophy apply to relationships? 

I have been trying to develop a new friendship recently. It's so difficult to make new friends and I am so abysmally awkward at it. But I have been working hard to overcome the awkward and, more significantly, my natural assumption that all people everywhere find me unbearably annoying and I should not force them to interact with me. I think that I've been doing pretty well. This person seems to like me. They talk to me, sometimes even initiating the conversation. They share things with me that they know I'm interested in. They appreciate when I share things with them. They have done nice things for me. These are all signs that I have to remind myself indicate a good chance that the person I am trying to befriend does in fact like me.

But the other day I learned something about my relationship with this potential friend that could be interpreted multiple ways. It could be something completely innocuous and insignificant. Or, it could be something that is quite hurtful. Unfortunately, I do not know the person well enough to safely assume one way or the other. 

I keep asking myself...should I just decide to act as though I know nothing? To believe, whether it is true or not, that there is nothing questionable about what I heard? I would have been so much happier if I had never been told. It's too easy a thing for my insecurity to latch on to as a reason to shut down and close off. And I don't want to wonder if this person who I like very much is not a safe person for me to invest in emotionally. 

I decided to continue believing in the church because I decided that even if it wasn't true, I would be happier believing that it was, and doing so would not hurt me or anyone else. Do I decide to believe in my friendship with this person even if doing so opens up the possibility that one day I might get hurt? If someone is doing something hurtful is it better to know and be hurt, or no know and be happy? Is that answer still true if it is only the possibility that the hurtful thing is occurring? Really, I'm asking if it is better to be cynical or to be idealistic. 

I'm sorry, this post is ridiculous. It is vague and adolescent. But it is the question which has been plaguing me all day and I would appreciate perspectives. 

Day 4: Heavy thoughts on the state of the the world

Today's prompt was "What is your favorite fairytale and why" which is something that anyone who knows me knows I should be pumped about. I'll probably do that one later on, because I do love fairytales.

But today I'm not feeling fairytales. Today I am thinking a lot about the world we live in. Last night I decided I want to try to take a break from Facebook for a while. I realized that for the last couple of weeks the time that I have spent scrolling through the feed and interacting with people has left me feeling unhappy. I feel anxious and depressed and hopeless.

This is not news to anyone. If we thought things were contentious before November, it only got worse after. To be fair to everyone, I am pretty sure it would have been that way no matter who won (except maybe Bernie Sanders). I will say that the despair would probably have been less dramatic (if no less impassioned) had Hillary won, if only because not a lot of things would have changed. Many people said that Hillary's presidency would be Obama's third term. I give Hillary a little more credit than that, but I do think that transitioning from one democratic president to the next would entail very little grand change. Conservatives could go on hating the government and all presidential policy, and liberals could continue complaining that things weren't changing fast enough.

Trump's victory, however, and the additional election of a Republican congress is a bit different. I'm not talking about Trump as the antiChrist rebirth of Hitler. I just mean that we are completely changing track, if not turning around and heading back where we came from. Trump campaigned on the promise of change, and that is what we will get. And that kind of huge dramatic change causes ripples. Republicans were looking at essentially a continuation of the status quo if Hillary won. Democrats are looking at not just moving ahead in a new direction, but the destruction of everything that they have fought bitterly for over the last several decades. And while that probably sounds like music to the ears of Republicans, I think that they should not be so surprised and disgusted that people are taking it hard.

But that brings me to the meat of the issue. And that is the bitter hatred each party seems to have for the other. There is no level of understanding. Republicans are in full victory mode. They won, so now they get to do what they want, no matter how petty it might be. And they're going to tear down every single thing that Barack Obama ever so much as looked at and smiled. Regardless whether it actually worked, or helped people, or wasn't overtly "Democratic". And Democrats? They are either despairing that the world is ending and we're all going to die in a nuclear winter, or gearing up for an all out war made of the last 8 years of Republican tactics we all couldn't stand just a few months ago.

Society is divided into an Us and a Them. The lines might vary depending on who you are and what you believe in, but what doesn't change is that there is a winner and more importantly, there is a very clear loser. In fact, for it to really count as a victory, your enemy must lose, and hopefully suffer in their losing. Because the word compromise has become synonymous with failure

I think the most depressing part of this is that it is aggressively encompassing. I grew up Republican, with liberal leanings given me by my mother (who I don't think ever realized how brave she was being a Mormon Democrat before there were facebook groups to support her). I migrated into unaffiliated territory as I grew up. I didn't identify as liberal till the last couple of years. And even then I was a conservative liberal. But all of a sudden I find myself digging in to debates on Planned Parenthood and the ACA. I find myself writing impassioned micro essays in facebook threads. But most of all, I come out of those encounters filled with disgust and anger, and absolutely no more understanding of anyone else's opinions but mine than I started with. I was literally raised in the ideology that I am now arguing against, I still have plenty of friends and family who believe it, and  yet I cannot fathom most of their opinions.

I saw a post yesterday calling out Obama for the hypocrisy of his farewell speech, talking about liberty when he had personally enacted "the biggest threat to freedom this nation has ever seen" (also known as the ACA). I said something about how putting the ACA on par with Japanese internment camps and slavery is a bit melodramatic. In his response he said "why do you like the ACA? You're the first person I've spoken to who has." I'm just stuck on that. The internet brings the world to our fingertips and yet we manage to pare it down and edit it to the point that the only way someone can hear something they disagree with is because you somehow became facebook friends with your wife's one liberal cousin and now it would be awkward to unfriend her because you see each other occasionally at funerals. I don't mean to call out this guy specifically. It is true of everyone, including myself.

But later on, on that same status someone else commented in response to me that the ACA IS slavery. Any time the government forces people to buy something they don't want it is slavery. The level of social insulation required to make that statement nearly made my brain explode. But to that guy, and more significantly, to everyone else on that thread who didn't say "I'm sorry, are you insane?", his statement made sense. It was true. I don't know how you navigate a world with divisions that fundamental.

And that's the problem. I fancy myself an understanding person. I like to think that I can listen to people and understand them. But I feel like I'm losing that. I feel like the world is losing that. I feel like communication is dying, and all that is left is propaganda and the need to be right and prove other people wrong. If I can't stop it happening to myself, what hope is there of stopping it happening to the world?

Day 3. What were your top 3 favorite movies growing up?

So we didn't really watch TV when I was little, nor a lot of movies. So I guess this post is easier because there aren't a lot of options to choose from.

We'll start with the #3 favorite movie and then work to the top.

3. I think I'd have to put Mulan here. Not necessarily because it was my brother's and my favorite per se. But it was probably the movie we watched the most. See, my dad would buy us whatever kids movie was big at the time, and we'd watch it with him, and then when we went back to our mom's we'd bring it with us. But when Mulan came out, he really loved it. He loved it so much that he wouldn't let us take it back to our mom's with us. So it became the one kids movie that he owned. And since both of us were too young to drive or go out on our own, and we didn't have any games or toys at our dad's house, watching movies was all we had to do all day while dad was at work. Which meant that when we went to visit him, if we didn't make it to the video store early on in the trip, all we had to watch was Mulan. Over and over and over again. Luckily, we both really liked Mulan. To this day I think Dan and I can probably quote 78% of the movie word for word. Below was our absolute favorite part. Start at 2:57.

2. I'm gonna say this one is The Brave Little Toaster. My mom gave me a copy of The Brave Little Toaster a year or two back for Christmas and my brother and I watched it again. We were left with the conviction that Blankie is literally the most annoying character that has ever been, Lamp and Radio are by far the best characters in the movie, and whoever thought of a movie about a little boy's household appliances Incredible Journeying it back to him was definitely high on crack. Also, as with all our movies that weren't bought for us by our father, this one was a recording off TV by someone who was...over-zealous in their determination to skip commercials, and with an incredibly short attention span. So about 20% of the movie was cut out around the commercials, and then they just stopped recording when the appliances hit the city. Or maybe they were just doing some judicious editing, because when my brother and I watched the DVD we were suddenly seeing all these scenes we'd never seen before, including a horrifying dream sequence and a terrible pre-Toy-Story-3 junk yard scene ending that were legit disturbing. Seriously, watch this and tell me this was not made by a bunch of people out of their minds on cocaine

1. The number 1 movie is  by far.....Mickey and the Beanstalk. Also recorded off TV, but with a lot less [accidental] editing, this is hands down both my brother's and my favorite movie of our childhood. We still quote it constantly. And unlike The Brave Little Toaster, this movie holds up into adulthood. I literally just rewatched it a few weeks ago because I still love it. Apparently there were two versions of the movie, with two different framing devices. I never saw it, but I guess there's a version where you have live action people on a picnic or something, telling the story of Mickey rescuing the magic harp through the use of puppets which then turn into the cartoon? It is terrible, or so I've been told. On the other hand, the One True Version, which is the one we grew up watching, is all animation; Ludwig Von Drake (Scrooge McDuck's brother I believe because that's how accents and names work in families) telling the story to his best friend, Herman the Cricket (no relation to Jiminy). Professor Von Drake is explaining to Herman how fairy tales are expressions of the unconscious and attempts to explain unusual phenomena, hence the existence of magic. Herman insists that he believes all the stories actually happened exactly as they are told, including the magic. Herman is, of course, proved right at the end when Willy the Giant himself shows up, lifting the roof off Ludwig's home. Ludwig has a mental breakdown. Seriously, if you've never seen this movie, you should watch it. It is delightful. And the scene of the vine growing up to Willy's castle in the sky while Mickey, Donald, and Goofy sleep, remains one of my favorite animation sequences of all time. But the whole thing is amazing. I offer you this clip:

Seriously. every line is quotable. "If it was one man and three beans...but one bean, AND THREE MEN! Anyway, what a nice thing there are no bones in it!"

Day 2: Where did you grow up? Share some memories...

Well, it's 1:40 and I have to get ready for work in just under an hour, so today's post will be an exercise in speedy writing. I am not good at speedy writing. Here we go.

I grew up in two places, really. I was born in New Mexico and we lived there till just before my 8th birthday.

Several years ago I drove a roommate down to New Mexico for a wedding and on the way back we were able to stop at my old house. The woman who lived there was so kind, she let me wander around the property and even let me come in the house to use the bathroom. I don't know if I've ever had a more surreal experience than that trip. Finding the house (I had to call my grandpa for directions) I kept driving past unexpectedly familiar things that would jump out of the background of an otherwise completely strange place. Things like an old bridge with odd wire shapes on the side, or the street up to the church building. Or the ice cream place my grandma took me that I thought for years after was Orange Julius, but is in fact called the Vanilla Moose (we stopped and got the very same drink and it tasted exactly as delicious as I remembered it, which was freaking magical). Then getting to the actual house where everything was both incredibly familiar and also so different. My grandparents' house had fallen into complete disrepair and was basically a rundown shack. Our old place now with a closed in porch all around.

But what are some specific memories I have of that house? I remember standing on the porch down at the end by the driveway. I think the porch was still level at this time; it hadn't yet been been left all akilter after my uncle had to excavate a skunk out from under it (I remember so many skunks having to be removed out from under our house, which was a single-wide trailer with an addition built on). I'm standing there on the porch and someone....I think maybe one of the Hinke children, which would have made it Heber since he and my uncle Jesse were best friends...has just given me a piece of candy.  I put the candy in my mouth and almost instantly begin to cry. It was a Warhead and it felt like it was burning through my tongue (this was not a lesson I learned as I later on developed a great love of Warheads and did in fact burn a hole in my tongue from eating an entire bag in just a few days). I cried, but I didn't spit it out. I remember getting to that last tiny burst of sour in the center.

I remember my mom making us popcorn in her black and white and orange air popper. We would sit around the stove up in the living room and listen to records. Bible stories that were in black and gold sleeves, or the soundtrack from Popeye (whenever that came out). Mom would scratch our backs and I don't think anything in my life since has ever been that cozy.

I think the top on my mom's was much more yellow. But otherwise it was just like this

oh my gosh. I actually found one. I freaking love the internet.

I think we must have been incredibly frustrating children, my brother and I. We would play these games at night. Mom would tell us we were not to get out of bed, so we would take our blankets and sheets and our silkies (my mom's old nightgowns which we were absolutely obsessed with and each had our own collection of) and we would stretch them out end to end. And at the very end we would be stretched out, literally one toe still touching the chain, laying on the floor declaring that we were still technically in bed. We could make it almost to the kitchen that way. I am not sure how mom didn't strangle us on those nights.

I remember so clearly the day my brother came in after crashing on his bike. His knees were bright red, though thinking back they must have just been thoroughly skinned. There was no blood running down his legs. But that was the moment I became terrible afraid of bikes. Instead of learning to ride my own (I got a beautiful white and pink and purple one for Christmas one year) I would run along pushing it. Or I would just run along with Dan as he rode his. That was back when I liked to run...

I didn't actually learn to ride a bike until we moved up to Oregon. This is where I finished growing up (did you see that segue? maximum smooth!). I eventually forced myself to learn to ride my bike on the dirt road behind the house. I think I must have been 10? I don't know. But I would push myself along and coast as long as I could keep my balance. It took a while before I got up the courage to actually pedal.

In the Union house I got my own bedroom for the first time. Up till then Dan and I had shared a room. In high school I decorated by putting up pictures of wild animals salvaged from calendars. I lined them up in a border around the ceiling. It was very hard for me to throw those away when I moved out for college. I have the heart of a hoarder.

pretty sure I had the 1999 version of this exact calendar

Mom has always loved rearranging the furniture, but when I was 9 or 10 she put together a configuration that left a tiny alcove between the couch and the wall. This became my little hiding place for what felt like quite a long time. I would hide in there and write. I wrote an incredibly stereotypical story about a girl who found a magical horse by a river and tamed it. I don't remember why, but eventually mom banned me from hiding in that little place.

I started public school in Oregon. Up till then I had been home school. There were kids my own age. More than that, there were girls my own age. I experienced my first sleep overs, my first birthday parties, my first experiences with the politics of childhood friendship. I was not good at it. When asked which boy I liked the most I did not know that the correct response was to giggle and drop hints. I just said I liked Remington the most because he was quiet and shy and seemed nice.

It's almost time for me to get ready for work, so I have to wrap this up. Of course there are so many more memories. These just happened to be the first to pop into my head. And very unedited because I didn't have the time. Ah well...

Day 1: Give us a quick snapshot of your life right at this moment

A quick snapshot of my life. Well, above is a picture of my face and shoulders, so this is what the top quarter of me looks like. It includes a new pair of glasses.

Basic facts.
I'm about 5'10". There may be some fractions more or less (I think less?) but 5'10" is close enough. My eyes are blueish, with a tendency toward grey. I have boring light brown hair that recently was a glorious blue (and will be again one day). I weigh....shoot, I have no idea. But it's a lot. Probably over 300? idk. I am built with a tendency toward top-heaviness which I inherited from my father's family.

Job facts.
I work for a company called Boostability. They perform SEO work for small businesses. I did not know what SEO stood for when I applied for this job. I had to google it. It stands for Search Engine Optimization. Then I had to google what that meant. It means doing stuff that encourages Google to rank your website on the first page of search results on particular keyword searches that are relevant to you. For instance, my blog would be relevant to a search for, say, "existential rambling blog". I now know how I could convince Google that I am probably the most relevant blog for that term and show up as the #1 result for that search. Though I don't think I'm going to do that. Anyway, I work for Boostability. Specifically, I am the "Onboarding Specialist" for the Sensis team, which means I set up the new accounts and I work with Australians. I work ridiculous hours, which happen to align with Melbourne business hours (Sun-Thurs 3-12). I get called "sweetheart' a lot by the older men I speak to. I find it charming. I also sometimes get hit on by some of the older men I speak to. I find that hilarious. I have a really great team I get to work with. And I have three awesome bosses. I used to have two awesome bosses and one mediocre boss, but then he got "downsized" and replaced with a fully awesome boss. #lifeisharshinthewild

Religious facts.
Ugh. Let's not and say we did. So much work.

Personal facts.
I turned 30 in September. I struggle with the existential angst of someone who grew up being told she has all the potential and who has ultimately done almost nothing with it. I have a cat name Oliver Tesla Tucci who I named after Oliver Platt, Nicola Tesla, and Stanley Tucci (all men that I feel like are completely underrated in their fields). If you don't follow me on facebook or instagram (and if that is case, how did you even find this blog? did you search "existential rambling blog"?) then you haven't seen a picture of him. LET ME FIX THAT RIGHT NOW! (if you do follow me you had to be expecting this)

this is the picture I just used to make my custom case for my new phone. 

this is the picture I almost used for my new phone case. I only meant to upload this one, but google gave me both. Clearly Google appreciates how adorable my cat is and who am I to say google nay. 

As an almost complete shut-in, Oliver basically constitutes my significant other. Yesterday he rode on my shoulders as I danced to this song

which I am currently obsessed with. He enjoys dancing with me, probably because I don't make him do it too often.

I live in a basement apartment with Oliver, a hedgehog named Phoebe, a hamster name Sophie, and the thudding noises of children upstairs as roommates. Currently, all of my plants are dying from lack of sunlight and it is making me very depressed.

Because I work such ridiculous hours, I do not do much socially. To be fair, I didn't do much socially even when I didn't work ridiculous hours. But it's nice to have something to blame that on now. I went on two dates this year with a man I met on Tinder. I can't actually remember his name now, but he was a very tiny man who was very nice and very interested in hooking up with me. After two dates I asked my coworker to send him an "it's not gonna work out text". He handled it very gracefully. I haven't really used Tinder since. I am superlatively bad at dating.

Other things.

Mostly just because I want to write them down and I'm writing right now, here are some of my goals for the coming year.

• I want to be more productive. I don't want to just sit and browse facebook all day every day. I want to create things. Even if they're things that other people could have created better (historically one of my big blocks when trying to create). Some of the projects I would like to complete this year are
• build another book shelf to replace the ugly plastic shelves I'm currently using
• figure out some way to store and display all my beautiful scarves
• take up painting again
• make something to hang over my couch to hide the weird painted shut panel in the wall
• read at least 3 new books I've never read before (not just reread my favorites over again)
• write another story, even if it sucks
• make my bed every morning
• clean the house every Saturday
• Take charge of my life more. I want to actually plan out my days so I don't get to the end of them and realize that I basically didn't do anything at all. Toward this goal I would like to
• every Sunday sit down and write out everything I'd like to accomplish that week and then break that up into realistic daily to-do lists
• use the gym membership that Boostability subsidizes for me (eurgh)
• by the end of the year I would like to not be eating fast food save as a very rare treat. 
• as a first step to this, and part of my previous goal about consciously taking charge of my life, in February I'm going to try creating weekly menu plans.
• write to Danielle at least every other month. Also write to Tori (but first get her address because I lost it)

So there you have it. A basic overview of my life...ish...with an outline of how I'd like my year to progress. If you have a deep burning question about something I did not mention, feel free to comment and ask. The comment section is readable now, with this new blog theme. So that's nice.