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I barely Tumblr any more, but it still remains useful as a means to record things like this for myself and the three people still involving themselves here (Hi Mom! Love you!)
#1, most far reaching -- be more generous (with my time, my attention, my money, my love)
Climb a small mountain.
Keep running. I’d love to do a Ragnar, but the logistics are traumatic, if invigorating. I decided I want to run Chicago again, though it’s a lottery now so that may be up to Nike, or whomever it is that is a running god.
Go on international adventures to the extent possible, supplementing with some domestic, and many local ones as well.
Apply to grad school for the summer/fall and see what happens.
Pursue more opportunities to be creative, remembering that doesn’t necessarily have to mean sitting down every night for an hour to write.
Achieve down payment savings victory, and see what’s out there, even though it might not quite be time to commit to real estate.
Perfect the French Twist. (All I need to do is watch some YouTube videos and practice; you’d think I’d gotten around to this yet.)
Start building my eccentric aunt wardrobe. (Caftans for everyone!)
The year has been over for thirteen whole days. That’s how much time I need to reflect.
I became a person who does not need to get all the way through my Twitter feed. I am grateful for Twitter lists, though, so I can get a small fix of completion. (Instagram remains another story.)
I made some rash decisions that pushed me forward/was a reminder of how important it is to get started, in part because time goes so fast. Ask my halfway done Invisalign and soon-to-be-submitted grad school applications for testimonials on this.
I finally joined Untapped (and now I realize how scary it is to be quantifying how many different beers I have had in how many different places).
I obtained membership in not one, but two bike share programs (two because my town couldn’t get its Citibike act together) There is no whimsy like the whimsy you feel when biking home at midnight on a Sunday after attending a Gwar concert.
I made my first forays into the supporters sections at soccer games - and reached the conclusion that I don’t like to be told what to do, even if it’s to cheer for a team I was going to be cheering for anyway. Will get a therapist so I can talk to her about my issues surrounding being stubborn for no reason.
I went to one new state and four new countries and was reminded that it’s okay to not have 47 activities and sights to fill the time. I tend to forget that some people spend entire trips just sitting by a pool and that’s legitimate, and perhaps even rejuvenative [not a word: should be].
I didn’t run a lot, for the first time in six years. 443 miles is not nothing, but it was a lot less than usual, and I was surprisingly okay with that. I also got to drink wine while running 26.2 of those, which cushions the relative lack of accomplishment a great deal.
I saw Fleetwood Mac from the floor and One Direction and Gwar and Culture Club and the sort-of Dead and a band covering Led Zeppelin in a cemetery. But, let’s be real, those were all monumental.
I am deep in the archives of You Made It Weird these days, and in Jen Kirkman's episode she references the Brady Bunch's Aunt Jenny, who was on for only a single episode, but left such an impression on apparently not only me. I was so pleased that at least one other has felt destined since childhood to be the eccentric aunt.
Melissa's favorite things that, unlike Oprah's, do not require a down payment
Melissa, you think you can ignore the internet for most of the year then roll on up here like anyone cares about your opinions?
Yes. Yes I do. Here are some of my favorite things.
Teddy Goalsevelt at the World Cup
I mean, futbol (in particular the USMNT); creative wardrobe decisions; the president who didn't really ride a moose, but could have and would have; team spirit: all the elements of something I can get really excited about.
(photo via)
the hair of the guy from Bastille
We didn't spend nearly enough time discussing how spectacular it is (despite the fact that, after his full name, the second suggested Google Image search for "Bastille singer" is "hair.")
(via)
You're the Worst
This is the first and only show I've ever purchased on iTunes, which I did because I felt so strongly that I needed frequent and constant access to it. The fact that this show, aside from being wonderful, caused me to pause and think, "Relationships. Hmm." is something I should discuss with someone with a degree in discussing things like that.
important internet videos
the Future Island Letterman appearance and this rundown of it (which I love even though he sidebars and disses Futures by my musical boyfriends Jimmy Eat World): It was so long ago now, but I can't ignore how much it affected me at the time, and how delighted I was by how tickled David Letterman was.
this New Orleans police officer doing the Wobble (so old; don't care; subsequently made my department do this dance together at our work holiday party; regret nothing)
the West Virginia news anchor dancing to Where They At Doe?/ruining his co-anchor's world and taking second place in my heart after Zac Efron in the category of Favorite White Guys Dancing.
songs that brought me joy
Besides the aforementioned Future Islands (which Spotify claims is my most favorite song for the year), there were two other songs that I listened to compulsively to the point where I was scared about facing the song play count on iTunes and/or whether Spotify sends someone out to check on you if you listen to a single song repeatedly and excessively. They were:
Do I Wanna Know? by the Arctic Monkeys, a song which I remain obsessed with despite the fact it is now so aged and has been commercially corrupted
Giants, by Bear Hands, which definitely might be a terrible song but I can't help being completely enamored with it in spite of this. I am a giant sucker for a single line in a song that I can pretend is being sung to me, and that is what this gem offers. It also played during the credits of You're the Worst, which only further solidified my preoccupation with it.
the winter Olympics, and especially Olympian parents
The winter can be bleak and cold, and having luge runs and speed skating to look forward to every evening for 16 days felt like a little bit of magic.
surprise episodes of Analyze Phish
At some point in the summer I remembered that this podcast brought me much joy, and it was time to make a periodic check-in to see if they had produced any additional episodes. THEY DID (in 2013. Where had I been?). There was a two-episode tangent where they discussed Jaws, which I was not down for, but the remaining four episodes delivered. (The one with Tom Scharpling got me as close as I've ever been to liking a few songs.) I owe several long runs to this gem.
Kate McKinnon in general, but particularly as Justin Bieber
My old roommate sent me this yesterday, because she cares, and because she knows this is the type of thing that I find amusing.
The above is a video featuring Real World New Orleans' David, he of the magic that was "come on be my baby tonight," transformed into someone called Chef Showtime and rap-singing recipes. In this case it's ramen, but there's more where that came from.
I want to say he understands how absurd it is, but then the next minute he's shirtless and body-rolling and I find myself doubting his self-awareness.
Internet, I've neglected you terribly, but I think it's a rule that I must record how magical my Fleetwood Mac experience was last night on you, so behold my favorite off-the-back-wall (as my beloved Q104.3 would say) song from the pretty flawless set list.
This Adorable Cabin Has A Secret—It’s Actually An RV
The Escape Cabin is a tiny house on wheels. It can be set up in hours, and with a full-sized tub, fridge, and king bed, it’s making portable homes places you want to live.
I have been obsessed with this since seeing it elsewhere on the internet and just need to find a non-half-a-mill'-costing piece of land in Jersey City or down the shore where I can plop it (where it will look very out of place but I don't care).
Remember when I went to New Orleans to not run a marathon (#patellartendinitis), stayed at a hotel with a peanut butter and jelly sandwich bar (which should be a thing absolutely everywhere), tracked down some Coven locales, ate some beignets, and played some faux Plinko at the expo?
You don't, because I never mentioned it, but here you go.
It's Daytona 500 day, which makes it an opportune time to post this vintage 2013 commercial featuring my #2 favorite driver, Tony Stewart. I fear what it means that I find something targeted at NASCAR fans funny, but 27 seconds in, when he says "mmm, soda cookies," without fail, I cackle.
I don't post often these days but when I do it's because of things I get really excited about, like the fact I just bought a Living Social deal for $16 worth of Fuddruckers amazingness. How much joy this brings me is probably cause for concern, but now is not the time for that, now is the time to rhapsodize about the giant vat o' cheese available there for smothering your fries.
times I used my passport: 3 (a night in the Bahamas and two in Canadia seem like cheating, but they do technically qualify) (shut up Melissa, you're a brat)
new states encountered: 2 (Utah, Vermont)
miles run: something like 1500, which is just dumb
marathons trained for: 2
marathons run: 1 (curses to Canadian floods, my prayers to all those affected)
books read: 60
ratio of recipes I've bookmarked (love you, Evernote) to how many of those I have actually attempted to make: 263 to 1
sets of keys to my car that I now possess: two (to be honest, I haven't seen one set since Saturday, but we're going to think positive on this one)
dollars left to pay on my college education that ended a decade ago: zero, praise be
