New Year's Resolutions

Every December, I make a long list of things I want.  This isn't a Christmas wishlist, but a several-page list of New Year's Resolutions.  The list is impossibly long, and some of the items on it are irreconcilable.  I want to travel the world, to keep a spotless home, to garden, to write, to save lots of money for retirement, to throw fabulous dinner parties, to read all the books, to be a better wife/sister/daughter/friend/lawyer/driver/pianist/baker/Scrabble-player.  I always want this to be the year I finally sew myself a designer wardrobe, become fluent in five languages, run a marathon, and put an end to all the injustice in the world.  And so I end up making a list with literally hundreds of resolutions.  Twelve months later, I've inevitably achieved at least some of them ("find a job," "make bread from scratch at least once," "don't end up in the emergency room") but nevertheless discover these accomplishments haven't changed me into that person (witty, fearless, intellectual, tireless, fun, gracious, healthy, talented, vibrant, extraordinary) that inspired me to make the resolutions in the first place.  At the end of the year, it turns out there are never enough hours in a day (nor, I suspect, in a century) for someone as unfocused and tired as me to transform life into perfection.  But, as Elder Holland said in our sacrament meeting a few days ago, that's ok... the point is to keep trying.

Between launching into my career, becoming a home owner, and adopting a dog and two cats, 2012 brought a lot of new responsibility, so I'm mostly just hoping I'm up for the challenge.  Here's to 2013.  Whether or not I end up traveling to a foreign country, kicking my 3-a-day bottled water habit, or making a cheesecake, hopefully twelve months from today I'm a better person than I am today and, more importantly, that there's at least a little bit more happiness in the world because of my efforts.

Given that one of my resolutions this year is not to kill anyone, I'd better wrap up this blog post before things get any more suffocatingly cheesy.  Happy New Year!

21 months

Since I last blogged, I:

Learned how to walk in heels



Discovered I really love goat cheese and sushi (probably not together, though)



Moved to Salt Lake



Adopted a friend



Became a pescatarian



Was published



Found the perfect banana bread recipe



Forgot how to put in a zipper



Graduated law school, passed the bar, and found a grown-up job



In the next 21 months, I hope I:

Eat tons of goat cheese and sushi (probably not together, though)



Move back to Salt Lake



Adopt lots more friends



(ok, kind of kidding there)

Read a bunch of books



Remember how to put in a zipper



Blog at least once or twice



Finally see Europe



In the spirit of my cousin's inspiring blog post, stop letting fear keep me from being the person that I want to be...

(However, I am perfectly content to let fear keep me from spending a bunch of money for the privilege of jerking around upside down on little elastic cord - no thank you)

Merry Christmas, Friends!

The 10,776 Word Monkey on my Back

154 footnotes and it's still not quite done...

But, in 36 hours, with my T&E final over and my paper turned in, I get to take a nap.  SO excited!!!!!

TTMMH

(Things That Made Me Happy [this weekend])

Finding out I was 1,000 words further along on my 10,000 word paper than I had thought ~ hot cocoa with whipped cream and snowman-shaped marshmallows ~ putting up Christmas lights ~ over-hearing one first grader ask another first grader to marry him when they were both grown-up (she said maybe) ~ naps ~ watching Mike finish up the Christmas decorating

Better-than-anything cake ~ wearing ridiculously comfortable outfits ~ looking at apartments online and planning how I would arrange the furniture ~ toast with cinnamon sugar ~ finding potential job opportunities ~ getting sympathy from my awesome brother ~ stumbling across exactly the right quote for my paper ~ imagining life in 12 days (after my last final) ~ eggnog french toast ~ not crashing on the way to church, despite fishtailing all over the road ~ getting a boost on my paper from Write or Die ~ pretending I own this coat

And (finally!) 5 glorious, fluffy inches of snow!!

Being too lazy to go outside in the dark and take my own pictures, I hope you all enjoy this image taken from WikiCommons instead.  Quebec, South Bend... it's all the same thing, right?

November...

On the one hand, there's nothing I love more than the onset of wintry weather, the first few snowstorms of each year, and the Halloween-Thanksgiving-Christmas bonanza of festiveness.  In this sense, November means Christmas lights, hot chocolate, and boots/sweaters/scarves.

On the other hand, though, law school has turned November into a month of outlining, paper writing, and not enough sleep.

Normally, the wonderful and the horrible aspects of November offset each other, and it ends up being a perfectly average month.  This year, however... lets just say homework has left me with little patience for any more gray, windy 50° days.


Since I started writing this, November has tried to oblige me with somewhat more exciting weather - Utah might be taunting me with festive snow storms, but I bet it can't boast of a tornado watch right now :)

Confession:

I'm only one Team Jacob t-shirt and one Justin Beiber album away from middle school.

When I was thirteen, I essentially acted like an adult.  I watched movies like Citizen Kane, read Dickens and Vonnegut, and listened almost exclusively to classical music, with some classic rock occasionally mixed in.  At youth gatherings, I inevitably ended up in the corner talking to one of the adult leaders about Ibsen's feminism or something we had both read in the New York Times.  I didn't fit in well with the kids my age, and I didn't know how to relate to their obsessions with make up, boy bands, and middle school drama.

Now I'm twenty two, it's almost as if I'm making up for my lost adolescence.  Sure, I'm still a reasonably responsible individual, and I still probably wouldn't fit in well with a group of tweens (somehow I don't think they'd appreciate my fondness for words like "bucolic" and "effervescent" or want to discuss the pros and cons of legal positivism).  At the same time, however, my tastes have become remarkably juvenile.  From what I usually feel like watching (10 Things I Hate About You, Post Grad, Clueless) to what I usually feel like listening to (Glee, High School Musical, and Taylor Swift [sorry Britny!]), I ought to be fourteen years old.  I prefer Seventeen to Cosmo and Forever 21 to Banana Republic (although the latter is purely because, if I have $30 to spend on clothes, I'd rather get eight t-shirts and a headband than one camisole, especially if it might be made by child labor either way).  I worry about who I'm going to sit with at lunch, and I'm still mildly scandalized when I find out two of my classmates are sleeping together, even if they've been dating for months.  This week, to celebrate the mid-term break, I checked two books out of the library:  James Joyce's Dubliners (a collection of literary short stories) and Nancy Farmer's The Sea of Trolls (a young adult novel about an eleven year old who gets kidnapped by Vikings).  Guess which one I loved, and which one I found boring and may never finish.

P.S.  It turns out the secret to enjoying Notre Dame football games is to sit with one's friends, at least ten rows behind obnoxious sophomore boy and his sophomoric friends (who, more than halfway through the semester, still haven't managed to figure out that their assigned seats are not in the middle of the law student section).