Sleuthing it out

Any fleck of boredom has lately been cured with Craigslist. In the past, I've been overwhelmed by line after harsh blue-fonted line only a few minutes into perusing for, say, a Mitchell Gold + Bob Williams couch for $1.50. It's a lofty goal, I admit, and until a startling discovery called Craigseasy, I withered easily.

Not anymore, folks! Now that I can sort so swiftly, and most importantly by viewing lists of images, I am a Craigslist...dominatrix? That doesn't sound quite right (God help the google search), but in general, I am DOMINATING Craigslist.

Recent finds include a refinished daybed and trundle, a Pottery Barn seagrass chair that never actually got picked up (not the point!), and some disrespect for the owners of a certain antique shop in Crown Hill who obviously don't follow online etiquette.

But what I really want to talk about it how you search on Craigslist. Ebay is so much easier, they think of things for you! But Craigslist takes much more calculation.

I'll show you my keyword search list if you'll show me yours...

seagrass
tufted
velvet
eames
rocker
rocking
club chair
pottery barn chair
malabar
west elm
crate and barrel
garnet hill
restoration hardware
anthropologie
console
side table
slipper chair
sisal
cost plus
world market
pier 1
hemnes
billy
mitchell gold bob williams
design within reach/dwr
club chair/leather club chair

A Jolly Good Fellow

Our sweet Henry passed away today. He was a fourth grader. A witty, sassy kid who was claimed as a best friend by at least 12 kids I know. He loved to "window shop" at Toys 'R Us, take trips by limo to the Lego store, and make his mom laugh. My wise friend Marla, the one who "walks like a penguin," in the words of Henry, says there's a cumulative effect when you see kids being snatched away by cancer. Just because it's our job to be in Cancer World doesn't mean we'll ever be immune to the inexplicable unfairness, the grief, the shit of it. It's like a big tower of Legos that stacks up and you can't ever unstack it.



Last week Henry asked our volunteers to help him write a song. He had already named it when they arrived at the hospital, guitars in tow: Henry's Happy Life.


*I wouldn't typically feel comfortable telling a family's story here on my ridiculous little blog, but Henry's mom has always asked for his story to be told. She has pleaded for prayers and support--email chains, you name it--for as long as we've known her, so it seems to me that his story should keep being told. Please be respectful in sharing their story.

Saturday Morning Run Down

Because I have no shame in my now-withered blogging skills, I give you a list of the latest. Ahem.

1. The husband is gone. This means that I have gone cray-zay with organizing, stopping in the middle of organizing to go organize something else, cooking, stopping in the middle of cooking to go back and finish organizing, stopping to watch an episode of The Real Housewives of [insert ridiculous city here], then deciding it's time to paint the bathroom. I have also installed a new shower head with great aplomb and uninstalled a toilet seat. Alas, the new one is still not installed. I am hovering.

2. I just read a story about a mom whose son used the word "retarded" to insult his brother. Teaching her son how hurtful/inappropriate/jerky it is to use that word wasn't what I loved most--his consequence was researching nonprofits that support kids with developmental disabilities and donating two months allowance to the one he liked best. Isn't that smart? I don't know if it's all Gottman-approved, but I liked it. Go Mom!

3. Typography is my current obsession. I've made some new friends who are designy, and let me tell you, I am greedy for their knowledge. Have you ever thought about the people who DRAW THE LETTERS WE TYPE? There are people whose job it is to draw letters. WHAAA? It just blows my mind. All I want for Christmas is a Helvetica t-shirt.

4. Our house is getting cuter. It's actually significantly cuter when it's clean. Cheap fix, eh?

5. Last night my two favorite curly haired girls came for a sleepover. We watched The Incredibles, ate quesadillas and Weight Watchers ice cream bars, and fought over a Care Bear named Monkey.

6. It's still no fun to ride an hour on the bus to get to work. Get with it, Metro Transit.

That's all for now!

Yours,

Spazztastic

Husky at Heart!

Even thought #22 looks like a badass, he actually really likes coleslaw and has great table manners.

From what I can tell, when you get cancer, especially if you're a little kid, people like to give you STUFF. A lot of times it's free tickets, sometimes it's free stuffed animals (since we know those are so hard to come by), ugly hats are a popular choice, plus bandanas that had been sitting at the bottom of the barrel in the Michael's clearance section since last Christmas. And there's a lot of wonderful gifts that come along, but in the end, stuff if stuff.

But tonight, my friends, the kids who are staying at the Ronald McDonald House while their families face serious medical situations had an EXPERIENCE. A fun one. The University of Washington Men's Basketball team came to eat dinner! And I was there, cooking up a storm! And then I chatted up a storm, because who wants a bunch of awkward 18-year-old boys to stand around in their 7 foot glory and scare small children with their awkwardness? Not me. So I sat down, the 5'4" blonde girl with an entire table of African American, NBA-dreaming college students, to pick their brains about the rain in Seattle (hard to adjust to, according to the boys from San Diego, Watts, and you know, Senegal!!!), which majors would never work for a basketball player: science and engineering, for sure, and what they thought of the House.

"I've never been here before, but I am definitely coming back y'all!" Too cute.

We had a mini photoshoot (HP should sponsor us with the amount of color ink we have been using lately), let kids decorate cardstock picture frames and got tons of autographs. There were t-shirts and basketballs and some good natured ribbing, but my favorite part was seeing those boys, the ones who land on SportsCenter all the time, the ones who came from all around the world, not necessarily thinking college education was in their stars, realizing the influence and privilege of their position. I'm hoping they liked it enough to warrant a free few tickets for me this season. :)

You want vlog? I give you vlog!

Ear to Ear

Let me give you a window into my brain this morning. It's 6:51am on a Saturday, and my heart and head are so full, sleep seems ridiculous.

*Arrived home from Camp Side-by-Side last night to a happy husband and a NEW HOUSE! Dustin moved in while I was gone, and he painted the kitchen, dining room, and our little library.
*Not only was the house painted, Dustin picked out the most perfect blue known to humans and painted the little studio out back...then he set up my sewing machine and my favorite lamp. I am have my own ART STUDIO!!!
*Making new friends at camp is still one of my most precious memories of being a summer camper growing up, and Camp Side-by-Side did not let me down this week. I had no idea I had room for more best friends.
*Our friends just gave us a gift card to Pottery Barn, which is clearly going to be spent today.
*I got to hear Tony Campolo speak last night on HIV/AIDS and the Christian response in 2010.
*Because my boss is awesome, I get to have a whole more week to think about my overflowing cup.

South Africa Meets Soccer Meets TEARJERKER!!!

Don't worry... I haven't forgotten how to write my own sentences. It's just that posting videos is so much more sophisticated. I'll be back again someday!

Vlogosphere

And One More Thing...

Per Britta and Lindsey's request, I am documenting this profound fact: Last night at Crush, five women in their mid-twenties witnessed a DRAGONFLY crawl out of this girl's purse. And then she killed it. In Crush! A classy time was had by all.

Twice in One Week for a Reason

Winnie-the-Pooh Pie

1 pre-made graham cracker crust pie shell (or make your own, overachiever)
1 pint whipping cream
2-3 bananas (not too ripe)
1 jar of Williams Sonoma Dulce de Leche (the best $10.00 you'll ever spend)

First dump the cream into a mixing bowl, whip for about 4 minutes. Just fluffy enough to be cloud-like. Not too stiff. Add some sugar to it if you want. Or a little vanilla! Yum!

Next zap the dulce de leche in the microwave for about 20 seconds. Spread a good glob on the bottom of the pie crust, then slice the bananas over the pie. Arrange them if you're into being organized. Plop the cream on top of the bananas as liberally as you're like. I'm a liberal, so I like a lot of whipped cream. And taxes. HA!

Top the pie with some hot cocoa powder, or if you're really feeling fancy, shave some of a Hershey's bar with a vegetable peeler.

Enjoy!

Warm Fuzzyhood

Soapbox Alert! My Fundraising Letter...

Hello Friends,

Don't be alarmed. I'm writing with a cause. But it's a good one. Many of you know my darling brother Skip, who turned 22 this year. About seven years ago, Skip sunk into a miserable, dark depression. And his journey since then has been long and turbulent. Two years ago he was given a diagnosis of schizophrenia, and while that, ahem, landed our family squarely at the corner of Crappy and Confused, the progress he has made since that diagnosis is phenomenal. I mean, REALLY. He went from agitated, sleepless, haggard, to bright, funny, functioning, and making the best of some wild, wild circumstances. He is himself again, and his symptoms will ebb and flow and will always need treatment. But he's having good days, thanks to the doctors and therapists and teachers and social workers and nurses and friends and family and pastors and pharmacists and YOU.

Because people like you are the ones who can support (drum roll) organizations like the National Alliance on Mental Alliance (NAMI). And NAMI is the glue that helps bring all those other people together, giving consumers (the word we use for folks with mental illness) the hope that it's going to get better. NAMI offers support groups for consumers, family members and friends, generates anti-stigma information to the public (no more Burger King commercials that make us want to cry) and continues to advocate for research on the treatment of mental illness.

Here are some fun facts about schizophrenia!

*Research on mental illness has largely occurred since 1980. That's way later than heart disease, cancer, etc. It's a new frontier!

*Schizophrenia is more common than Multiple Sclerosis. Truth.

*It affects the entire world population equally. It's not in the water, or the money, or the culture, or the religion.

*Schizophrenia affects the ability to think, formulate ideas, reason, remember, and/or concentrate. It's a doozy.

*Side effects of the most effective medications include memory inhibition, weight gain, increased risk for cardio-vascular disorders, bankruptcy! :)

So I'm going on a walk with NAMI to help keep their work trucking along. On May 15th we will stroll along Lake Washington and wave our flags and wear t-shirts in honor of the ones we love, and I would be so happy to send your money in the direction of this good work. Five dollars from each of you would make my d-a-y.

Click here to support me.

Thanks for listening. Happy Spring!

Holly

I'll Stop Shaving Now

Attention, anybody who has ever accused me of becoming too left-coast!

I am going to LILITH FAIR this summer

in George, Washington.

You heard me. You couldn't really call me a lefty until now. It's like a feminist bonanza!

I'll be trekking 'cross the mountain with five of my favorite people. For example...

The Awkward Blogger. Known to some as SPU Librarian-in-Training, but to me she is the most prolific storyteller of them all. One time she told a story about a miniskirt, and it's all I can do not to tell everybody I know. She's that awesome.

Also hopping in the minivan is this delightful creature. The goddess of fine cookware and the friend everybody wants to have when getting married/having a baby/existing. I expect fine snacks from Queen Ice Cream. She is also a therapist, so she can judge you whilst serving you dinner!

Overall-wearing, Eastside-dwelling mommy of a boy named after someone famous. Once she was my boss, and even though that job was not remotely my calling, we stay friends. Especially because her child is friggin' cute.

Again, my friends are awesome. Best friend and former roommate extraordinaire, this Ta-Ta Saver will likely provide several coolers full of white sangria for the festivities. She will probably find a way to include tofu in the recipe, and we will actually like it! She also gags a lot. I sometimes think she's faking it until I realize that she isn't.

The leader of our pack and much cooler than this haircut would suggest, our Mighty Mommy. She drives a red-hot minivan, gives thrifty a whole new meaning and loves to interpret weird dreams.

So that's the crew! Stay tuned to hear about our very exciting, inter-generational road trip.

Revisiting That Soapbox

I ran across this article in the archives of SPU's Response Magazine. Reminded me of why, despite its flaws, my place of worship and community is on the right track. It's long, but read up. It's local! :)

Church In-Reach: Care for the Congregation

“When a person deals with mental illness, sometimes the Christian community says it’s a spiritual problem — that you don’t have enough faith, and if you just read your Bible more, you’d be cured,” says Claudia Grauf-Grounds, chair of Seattle Pacific University’s Marriage and Family Therapy program.

One Seattle congregation is taking radical steps to change such thinking. Twelve years ago, University Presbyterian Church (UPC) Senior Pastor Earl Palmer invited David Zucker to join the staff. Zucker, neither a clergyman nor a clinician, had long worked for Agape Outreach, a home for adults with severe and persistent mental illness. He was a natural fit for a groundbreaking new position at the church: mental health advocate.

“I’ve learned over the years that the biggest part of healing and recovery is how well you’re welcomed back into the community after you’ve been ill,” says Zucker. “Folks that come the farthest have cheerleaders to root them on. I wanted to explore what the church could do to provide that kind of support.”

Zucker initially envisioned his UPC ministry would center on outreach to people in the city who struggled with mental illness. But something amazing happened. “People — church members — started to come to me in droves,” he says. “Many of them came like Nicodemus in the night, knocking on my window and coming up to me after services.”

Zucker describes families in distress; depression-ravaged, high-functioning adults; and everything in between. “I found that UPC was no different than any other congregation in America; members of the church were suffering and struggling with mental illness, and they were afraid to be identified,” he says. “Yet they desperately needed and wanted support.” That’s when Zucker came to an important conclusion, one that would define his next 12 years at the church: “We needed to be doing in-reach, not out-reach.”

It takes a special sensitivity level to manage such a program. “I’m someone who is a survivor of mental illness,” he says candidly. “That’s where my interest and openness come from. I’ve walked through the dark night of the soul myself. After I became a Christian, I got engaged. When she called it off, I became deeply depressed. Folks very quickly got tired of praying for me. I felt like I was a leper — on the periphery. I’ll never forget the pain and brokenness I felt.” He says he saw the importance of community in recovery from illness and crisis. “I became convinced of the healing value of relational ministry — that’s ultimately what we do here.”

Zucker says his work is rooted in a word: compassion. “In Greek, compassion means to suffer with,” he explains. “When you choose to walk alongside someone who’s suffering, you enter into their grief. I’d love to see seminarians have more training to do this.”

UPC’s model for mental health ministry is radical by church standards; it’s also rooted in concepts of collaborative care — specifically, that healing can be maximized by a network of support. “Our focus is to provide a first-class welcome and spiritual discipleship to folks who are hurting,” says Zucker. “No matter how ill a person is, even if they’re delusional, there is still that deep spiritual yearning.”

Beyond that, Zucker serves as an advocate, someone who goes to bat for people who are suffering. He’s there to provide a listening ear, support, and referrals. “I advocate for people, meet their felt needs, and help network for them.” Sometimes that means helping families access social services, dealing head-on with crisis, or making referrals to psychotherapists. “If someone comes in here needing support for life, I’m here,” he says. “I can’t do everything for them, but I can do something.” And Zucker is especially proud of one thing: “In all of the years I have been here, not one person who has attended our fellowship groups has ever taken their own life.”

Aside from managing five church-sponsored support groups attended by nearly 40 people each week, he is in contact with roughly 200 people in any given Monday-through-Sunday interval — some of whom are psychotherapists working collaboratively with him to meet the needs of parishioners and their families. “Twenty-five years ago, churches didn’t know what to do with divorce; now there are ministries and support groups for people going through that,” says Zucker. “I think this [mental illness ministry] is the last frontier in churches — because it impacts so many people.”

He points to 1 Corinthians, where Paul likens the church to the body: “Paul says all the parts of the body are essential, but he reminds us that we need to give greater care to the weaker parts — that’s ultimately what leads to greater unity in the body.”

Just a Moment of Your Time :)

Please watch this trailer, oh please, won't you? Please.

I'm Giving in to the Madness

Not only have I willingly succumbed to the goofy plot that is Doppelganger Week, I just trotted over to urbandictionary.com to, ahem, learn more about myself. Don't worry, I edited this for flattery's sake.

Holly: A word used to describe a beautiful and bright being.

Usually linked to a girl of average height with blonde hair and brown eyes.

Symptons of being a Holly:
- excessive loudness (no volume control)
- sometimes lives in a fantasy world- believes herself to be a princess
- Tendency to dress in a lot of pastel coloured pink
- likes to be liked & loves the people closest to her dearly

Other attributes of Hollys:
- Hardworking, motivated and ambitious
- Creative, artistic and emotive
- romantic, confident and passionate

Salad Days

Holly and Skipper, c. 1993, Cincinnati

Photoshopping c. 2001

Water balloons are not edited. Nor is the pig doormat.

Don't Call Me

Dear Mr. Technology,

You rock my world. Daily. I love knowing that I can pretend to understand a conversation 'round the watercooler, run back to my desk, Wikipedia the mystery reference and make an "informed" comment the next time I swing by. This is a fabulous convenience: I feel cool.

I also love, Mr. Techie, the way my iPhone gives me instantaneous answers about my bus's whereabouts (downtown, three minutes delayed) and reminders for family birthdays. I couldn't do without these luxuries now that I'm so painfully spoiled. You get me, Techie, you really do.

But Tech, there has been a price for all this luxury. Mostly, I have become That Girl Who Doesn't Get Back to People. It's been a long time coming. People usually expect me to delay in responding to emails, answering friend requests, replying to messages, commenting in return on a blog, texting back my weekend plans, and on and on. BUT WAIT A MINUTE. What is wrong with this picture? There are ten, TEN ways that people can reach me these days.

And ten is way too many. You have created a monster, Techno Man. Home phone, cell phone, text, Gmail, G-chat, Facebook: messages, walls and chat, work email, and work phone. How am I supposed to sustain that kind of communication? WHO HAS TIME FOR THAT? I know I'm not the only one. But I am just not interesting in juggle all of this anymore.

So, Mr. T, I am waving my white flag. You win. I admit defeat. I'm not the girl who can be counted on when it comes to answering the call of duty. If people want to reach me, they can come and knock on my frickin' door. The rat race of "reply all" is ending today. The reply time guilt is whooshing down the drain as we speak. I know you'll try and woo me back. I'll continue to suffer the silent judgment of the Quick Replyers, but you will know who has my heart: Mr. Doorbell.

Love,

Holly Elizabeth

Lighter Notes

The summer we got married, Dustin and I had obscene amounts of free time. Being a teacher does come with that perk, and I was just unemployed. At that point, it was still fun not having a job.

We decided to start a little video podcast with reviews of restaurants we'd venture off to, and although we only made it through a handful of episodes, I still like to watch them. Partly because I am vain and need to know what I look like when I talk (freakish amounts of white around the eyes, fyi). Partly because I like to see how much we've changed in the short time we've been doing this marriage thing. It's incredible how much more I know about this person, even when I was sure I knew it all. I knew nothing of Dustin's sink disposal phobias. Nothing of his need to sleep with elbows up, ready to accidentally knock my lights out. Nothing of his willingness to do my laundry. Every. Week.

The links to our little show are here at our old wedding website--hopefully they'll lead you to some fun Seattle haunts and steer you clear of the lame spots. Bon appetit!

This Could Get Awkward

Okay. Like I said, this could get awkward. I'm already awkward in this first paragraph. But I need to get this off my chest.

Why does everyone feel so uncomfortable talking about mental illness?

For example, there are entire websites that exist for the sole purpose of following cancer diagnoses. And gobs of people read them. They keep family and friends informed of the good news, the sad news, and how to help in between. And they're an incredible tool, I'm a huge fan. But never do people subscribe to blog updates when brothers and mothers and fathers and friends are delusional, psychotic, dangerous to themselves, falling apart. Nevernevernever does some company put a ribbon on a water bottle to support schizophrenia research.

It makes me really sad to know that someone in my life suffers from this hideous disease and is also subjected to so much judgment and misunderstanding. It is just not fair. I want a Fun Run. I want to hear Bill Gates announce a billion dollars in funding. I want to salute a Peace Prize winner who unlocks the key to relief for my loved one.

One way I'm trying to advocate for the mentally ill is to pay attention to my language. We have gotten really good at using inclusive, respectful language in so many circumstances, but the way people throw around terms like... nutcase, wacko, psycho, lunatic...it's cruel. I have listened to my sweet brother sob because the pain of being ostracized for his illness was infinitely more miserable than his hallucinations, his paranoia. For the record, that was shitty.

As I've learned more about mental illness, and schizophrenia especially, I'm realizing that nobody is going to change attitudes, shift judgment, unless people who have suffered tell their stories. My brother cannot tell his story right now, so I'm here in his place. Telling his story, in all my awkward glory. Without his permission, abandoning my sense of ethical blogging for the sake of following my gut.

I may never write about this again, but I just needed to say, "WE ARE HERE. There are people here who are in pain, who are in pain and who deserve compassion, just like anybody else who is sick and suffering." Thanks for humoring me. And stop calling your neighbors "nut jobs."

Breaking Ground

Learning to cook Thai and Indian food (like they can be lumped together so casually, ha) is one of my top to-dos this year. Last night Kelsey came over and we tackled Thai Coconut Chicken Soup together. I have to say, it was so tasty, the entire pot is gone, less than twelve hours later. We started with the idea from The Williams Sonoma Cookbook, which my dad got me for Christmas, but since we were missing an ingredient or two, the recipe became a little more our own. Unfortunately, there was no time to stop for a picture between bowls, so you'll have to settle for the happy yellow lining of my soup pot.

Harder to find ingredients always held me back from trying Thai cooking before, since I'm not usually the plan-what's-for-dinner-type. But we finally went looking for lemongrass and all the other fixings (which turned out to be rather normal, actually), and the result was utterly worthwhile. Hopefully you'll have time to try this one soon!

Thai Coconut Chicken Soup

*serves about six*

2 large boneless, skinless chicken breasts, sliced very thinly

1 glug extra virgin olive oil

1 quart chicken stock

2 cans light unsweetened coconut milk (believe me, it's plenty rich)

1 stalk lemongrass (peel off the top layers, chop it in three inch bits, then plan to fish it back out)

1 jalapeno pepper, diced

2 Tablespoons fish sauce

2 Tablespoons curry powder

1 clove garlic

1 teaspoon turmeric

2 limes, juiced

1 package Trade Joe's rice noodles

Ginger, about six thin slices (peel it, as the skin comes off in cooking even if you skim it out)

Cilantro and basil, just for a fun little herb garnish

1 cup mixed veggies, such as carrot, spinach and/or mushrooms

Warm the olive oil in a soup pot and cook the chicken strips in batches, just a minute or so on each side. Place cooked chicken on a plate close by. Once the chicken has been cooked, add the chicken stock to the pot and scrape up the yummy bits, then add the coconut milk, ginger, a clove of garlic, the jalapeno (however much you can handle, a whole pepper makes it nice and hot), fish sauce, curry powder, turmeric, and the lime juice. Simmer for a little while the flavors get friendly. Add the carrots now, if that's your thing.

Return the cooked chicken to the pot, and add the rice noodles. Simmer some more while those noodles get soft, and taste as you go (with a clean spoon, duh) to make sure you have the flavors right.

Serve in big bowls with big spoons. Cilantro and basil are fun on top. It's comfort food without the gravy. Enjoy! :)

Legacy Leaver

Holly is becoming nothing more than a glorified list-maker, you say. Well, you are right. But I will plunge onward. Substance by damned!

Behold! Helpful Tips from around the House, Volume 1/Generic Post Titles Volume 300:

1. Before opening a can of ______, wipe the dust off the top by swirling the can on your back pocket. When I was about twelve, I asked my mom why she always "buttdusts", and she was bewildered. This doesn't happen to my mom. Then she told me my grandma used to do the same thing, and that it is probably genetic. But anyway, try this. No more lint in your black beans.
2. Ironing is for the birds. Or chumps. Or people who actually have an ironing board. Here at our house, we throw a wet washcloth in the dryer with our wrinkly apparel and look spiffed up in no time. Five minutes is all it takes!
3. Stuffed up? Feeling crappy? Stand over the bathroom sink with a beach towel over your head, blast the hot water, and pretend you're having a spa experience. I'm telling you, the Group Health Nurse Hotline saved me with this one on Christmas morning.
4. Buy enough underwear (and clothes) so that laundry needs not be done more than twice a month, if that. It's the lap of luxury. Be sure to make space in your closet for the massive piles that will accumulate.
5. Arrange your furniture so that you can store junk behind the couch, armoire, etc. Our linens are packed politely behind our loveseat. It's classy.

It's hard to believe I made it through five whole housekeeping tips. I am really full of wisdom tonight.

And to make this reading worth your while, I present, The Pinching Preacher. From my hometown of Parker, Colorado. Watched repeatedly, the laughter will burn a day's calories.

Melancholia

There is something about January 1st that ushers in a pesky sense of ennui for me. It's not that I don't love the holidays, and it's not that I'm really sad they're over, either. I just get really, really lonely, like I've finally become friends with the past year and now I'm moving away.

We've been shuffling through our house these last two days with a combination of relief and exhaustion--just five days of Christmas travel wore us out! But even through the mopes, I can look back on 2009 and see many happy moments. More exciting though (I hope), is my newfound determination to create a Bucket List. No time like the present, eh?

1. Take a cooking class in a foreign country.

2. Share a meal with a famous person who doesn't know I know she's famous (stalking?).

3. Explore the vast variety of Christian traditions... read more.

4. Visit a monastery (see #3).

5. Live in a place where I am a minority.

6. Give away 30% of my income for an entire year.

7. Float in the Dead Sea.

8. Own a Burberry trench coat.

9. Write a book about food and childhood.

10. Learn the rules of soccer so that I may teach my children.

11. Name a child after someone I love.

12. Sew a quilt for my mom.

13. Participate in mental health care advocacy.

14. Find my perfect lipstick color.

15. Appreciate the texture of my hair.

16. Figure out how to make my money grow.

17. Run a 5K. Alone.

18. Run a 10K. With Dustin.

19. Vacation with friends.

20. Care for a foster child.

21. Attend a benefit gala for a museum.

22. Volunteer at big city library.

23. Grow chard with great success.

24. Learn about metabolism.

25. Wear short hair.

26. Appreciate my nose.

27. Knit a baby blanket.

28. Drive a vintage Mercedes.

29. Swim across a lake.

30. Celebrate a 50th wedding anniversary.

I'll keep you posted on how many I can check off in 2010, but I'm hoping I make tracks...