2012 Bucket List!

So I have this tradition... In 2009, I celebrated the new year with my close friend Casey, and together we crafted "Bucket Lists" of things we hoped to accomplish that year. I loved it. New Year's resolutions stuck me as half-assed attempts at changing oneself. It was almost negative: what is wrong about me that I ought to change (but don't really want to).

But the lists were different. They were optimistic, and proactive. It was less about What can I improve about myself? and more What can I hold myself accountable for? What can I accomplish this year?

There are some big things—highlights include "Go to college" (2009), "Go to Europe" (2009, 2010), "Start a blog" (2010)—but I balance them out with smaller items that are still great experiences. It's all about being realistic about what I can do that year. By putting a few big items on the list, I hold myself accountable.

And not everything gets crossed off. Throughout the year, my wants and goals change. But the point is to write it down. As I learned from my mother, unless I write it down, shit don't get done.

Check out the full list.

The Year in Review

2011 started with my moving to Manhattan to work at Marie Claire.

As 2012 approaches, I reflect on the past 12 months. Sometimes, last Christmas seems likes a lifetime ago, and other times, I feel like so little time has passed. But it's been a full year when I think about everything that has happened.

I moved to New York and worked for six months at Marie Claire. I explored the city and spent a week in the Bahamas. I moved back to Boston and lived off campus (my first big girl apartment!). I worked at LOFT and am in a great relationship. I also dyed my hair about a dozen different colors.

But then we had three deaths in the family, and a could friends as well. Only one was from old age. We've faced financial stress and law suits, and the general crappy-ness of some people. It's been a challenging year, but we'll grow from it all, as well.

Click for more to see what I crossed off from my 2011 Bucket List.

Today's Obsession: Kate Spade

To start, a few philosophical musings...

I have this theory that all women should wear sexy underwear, regardless of whether or not they plan on showing it to a third party. Sexy undies make a girl walk taller, strut just a little, and feel completely and utterly beautiful.

Well I also maintain that during the winter months, it's helpful to wear bright colored nail polish on your toes. No one has to see it (though I have no problem showing some toe in January), but coming home and taking off your boots, only to be greeted by perfectly kept bright pink toes... that's a good feeling.

Kate Spade kind of takes that concept and runs with it. Everything in her line is colorful and upbeat and vintage and chic all in one. I'm mildly obsessed with her weekly organizers, and have cases for both my new Macbook and my iPhone. Both have a discreet message hidden in/on them that greets me just like brightly painted toes. "Have Courage."

And how can I say no to that. Though the cost of much of her stuff is—how we say?—steep. But even a lowly college fashionista can afford (or splurge) on a collection of her idiom bracelets. Her decadent bangles come in both classic silver and gold, as well as colorful designs. And all of them include idiom-ic sayings to inspire and cheer up a Yankee girl with Southern aspirations. My favorite? It's a toss-up between "Heart of Gold" and "This is the year to..." Obsessed.

Kate Spade's idiom bangles would pair effortlessly
with my Michael Kors watch, dontcha think?

48A

I walk past the front door with the broken lock and handle,
the door that only ever opens to welcome in 3 a.m. cream cheese wontons,
and head right into the back yard like I live here.
I do live here.

I walk up the rickety porch steps where I sat crying into Geddes' drink
before stealing it and using it as a numbing chaser for my heartbreak,
past the circle of chairs where I rebelliously took a drag on a cigar
Backwards.

I stumble over the piles of recyclables, and the uninvited resident possum
and walk through the back door and into the kitchen...

I love this house,
With its chandeliered ceilings, mile-high floorboards,
forest green granite countertops and a lone stained glass window--
Outdated embellishments from former tenants,
haphazardly shielding the grime of beer-laquered floors.

I sit on this familiar, disease-ridden couch,
my toes tucked under to keep from freezing...
this is where I was first introduced to the classics
like "Superbad" and "Zoolander."

Here, over beer and tequila and cheap peach champagne,
and endless games of Kings and chandeliers,
pregaming turned into midnight turned into New Years.
Before I moved away.

Somewhere buried under the piles of mail and hooker cards,
there is a ripped up Bud Lite Lime box where I scribbled an apology,
a thank you to the boys for their hospitality and hair holding.
And a Christmas card.

Here, we spent lazy Sunday afternoons watching the game.
I cleaned the kitchen with bleach only to dirty it up again with enchilada sauce,
the smells of soap mixing with onions and chicken.
Or Bolognese.

It's funny in a house of boys, I managed to be surrounded by sisters.
We "guy's girls," a breed all our own, laughing and bonding.
And sharing Alec's clothes.

The boys used Best Buy's "No questions asked" return policy
to equip the gritty, sound-proof basement with the best sound system on the hill.
And there, next to the "sex couch," and under the blacklights,
Dez taught me how to dougie.

This is the house that raised me from GDI to TFM, from princess to squalor,
this is where I lick-shot-lime'd my semester away,
learning more and growing more from lazy conversations
over Crispy Dough.

I found this poem in my email drafts. I probably wrote it seven or eight months ago, but just rediscovered it.