I’m collecting stories about the apartment window filled with small elephant figurines along one of my favorite walking routes. So many trunks standing side-by-side and none of them alive.

I’m collecting the surprisingly sweet scent of roses that shouldn’t still be blooming. Their light pink petals and aroma daily chilled but unmistakably fragrant.

I’m collecting hill-infested streets, cataloging them to keep them close always, to remember the way they push and pull at the breath in my chest, the way they make my legs shake in anticipation of reaching one of their playing-hard-to-get crests.

I’m collecting looks you give me when you think my attention is busy being corralled elsewhere. I pretend I can’t see, climb slowly, stay rock steady. (Don’t worry; your secret’s safe with me.)

I’m collecting trees, so many trees imbibed with intoxicating fall hues. Reds and yellows and oranges so vibrant they make rowdy noises when you catch them in the light just right. They cheer and scream and sing of renewal and growth and death-bringing-life.

I’m collecting hopelessness, so I can set it on fire. Doubt, so I can devour it.

I’m collecting quiet moments, to save for noisy laters. So much change on the horizon, and all of it welcome, sweetly peppered with seeds of mysterious possibility to be watered; I’m going to help it grow.

I’m collecting words, so many stories I want to tell you, when the time is right. When you’re ready. When I am. Soon.

I want overflowing summer, refreshing water, to dive deeper and deeper into nouns not me. I want pine trees, fir trees, big bright green leaves covering us with a canopy of neon possibility and late afternoon cool. I want more ferns, never enough ferns. I want to be able to articulate how much the forest reminds me of you, and will always, while simultaneously reminding me of nothing but peace, stunning design, a promise of a time when I’m not back-diving, not looking to find you coming around some bend in a long-forgotten trail, looking for me all these years, greeting me with a hug that would last a lifetime.

I want to be able to access my darkness, to float alongside the loss I was given–to write in and around and underneath and through it–and not live there.

I want to live near the ocean, on a lake, in a tree house with a mossy staircase.

I want activity, my body always reminding me how much harder I can push it, how much more it can take, promising me steadfast feet, strong limbs, graceful poise on the muddiest roads. I want sheer exertion, my arms and legs pumping pumping, pushing myself up the tallest hill I’ve ever run, again and again and one more time, just to see if I can do it without losing my grin. I want to keep falling deeper in love with the feeling of my feet flying faster, pulsing and praising their God-given ability to traipse over wild and unruly rock, singing hymns to poetry in motion, to devotedly circling a soft track hardened with determination, with fierce competition, with memories of baton passes and 300-meter leads and the dumbest bet I ever took. I want to jump into a pool ten months after the last time I swam (last August, next to my parent’s pontoon boat for hours while they cruised Deer Lake lazily, my mom feeding me carrots and pretzels over the side of the bow) and do a flawless freestyle kick-turn, the way I did Friday without even thinking about it, blushing and diving underwater again after surfacing to unexpected, roaring applause. I want to swim for months without stopping. “My little fish” my mom will always call me, and I’ll always smile before diving in again, deeper this time.

I want music. New music, old music, live music, improvised music, melancholy music, music that side-steps me back to hours of your face close to mine, to one perfect night in a periwinkle dress I borrowed from one of my best friends, to two years of walking away from you. Music that giggles me back to ’90′s movies with ’90′s soundtracks and now-vintage dreams. I want to dance. I want to dance by myself and I want to dance with you, both of us laughing hysterically at how neither of us knows what we’re doing, but it doesn’t matter because I can play the tambourine and you can play something equally silly, maybe the kazoo, and we’ll both lose ourselves in drum beats and sax solos and make myriad references to dabbling in Jazz flute while everything else fades to back-up singers.

I want adventure, barefoot banter, aimlessly purposed wandering, lake discovering, trail blazing with Chacos and sheer optimism, laughing as I walk through another spider web because I excel at always finding them first. I want bluntness and camaraderie, unexpected hours of non-stop conversation peppered with sore calves and sweaty foreheads and copious amounts of jokes and stopping to look each other in the face when conversations get a little treacherous because what we’re saying is hard to say but we’re saying it anyway, for no reason and every reason, because we’re happy and comfortable and quite surprisingly so, but happy and comfortable nonetheless. I want to be touched gently, and spoken to sweetly, and made to laugh raucously until my spleen hurts. I want to be urged on ruthlessly, to never leave your side even when I’m hundreds of miles away. I want my own space. A lot of space. To run and roam and grow independent of you and everything I thought I once knew.

I want to take blurry self-portraits in sunglasses with a pro-hipster premise and send them to people I care about so they can laugh, yes always, but mostly so they can see how happy this girl is. How happy she will always be. Flying solo or equally matched I want you to know she’ll soar, higher than she’s ever climbed on her own before, no more stopping on any dimes, incapable of losing her forward momentum this time. This girl, this Kerri Anne who was once so lost and is now so found, about to be run underground by a freight train of joyful premise, propositioning purpose, unplanned terrain beckoning, guaranteeing her a life-changing reckoning, and she: running out of her woods to meet it.

I want all of this, and more. I want hope I’ve never smelled before.

Some of this I surely already have, already own, already heartily condone and carry with me, a fleece blanket of green sentiment, sediments stitched together from collected ferns and words I might have whispered, once, if you were listening closely.

The rest of it? Careening, screaming, rocket ship beaming toward me. Or maybe lapping sleepily in a sparkling stream, avoiding the meaning, floating soundlessly on a billowy breeze. Some of it surely lost in translation, waiting patiently for further concentration. But on its way, regardless.

FACT: Making the invitations for my sister’s Baby Shower, Our Family Is Huge Edition resulted in me officially becoming Extremely Excited for the upcoming Memorial Day festivities wherein I get to see my sister for four! days, and help throw two baby showers for her therein. I cannot even stand said excitement and have taken to making copious amounts of lists for packing and planning and baking and please someone make me sit still before I OD on baby shower-related happiness. Also, how cute are these? I’m verily smitten with them.

FACT: I crack myself up. Often for no reason at all, but specifically when Michael C. Hall paper cut-outs are involved. Exhibit: What I sent Sizz as part of her birthday package, after some perfectly timed inspiration from Jen:

{WARNING: Nerd tangent! WARNING: Nerd tangent!}

FACT: My love for everything Buffy being quite vocal, I can’t believe no one ever told me about the GAME CHANGING crossover episode on Angel (Season 1, episode 8: I Will Remember You; Netflix instant that ep, post hastey!**). It’s supposed to happen in between episode 8 and 9 of Buffy Season 4, and while episode 9 does reference Buffy going to LA to see Angel for “five minutes,” HI, THERE IS THIS WHOLE BIG THING THAT HAPPENS in the aforementioned Angel episode, that, even after seeing Season 4 of Buffy multiple times, I had NO IDEA happens because as I might have mentioned it’s on Angel and not on Buffy, and

FACT: Try as I might (and I’ve mightily tried) I just can’t get into Angel. Except for the aforementioned (and soon to be mentioned) amazing crossover episodes, because

FACT: Angel is no Buffy. And there’s no Xander and no Willow, and (the horror!) no Giles. And for reasons that make zero sense, I can’t watch Angel even pretend to have smooshy feelings for anyone but Buffy, even while I can watch Buffy love Riley and Spike***.

FACT: There’s also a second crazy crossover episode (again on Angel) toward the end of Season 1 (episode 19, I think), with both Faith and Buffy, called Sanctuary. It’s crazy. And pretty important to the overall narrative arc of Buffy, as Angel shows up in Season 4, episode 20 to directly apologize for what happens in Sanctuary.

FACT: Angel drives ME crazy, in an “I think I just want to stake your emo face” sort of way. Mostly because

FACT: I don’t understand why Angel and Buffy can’t just live happily ever after, and while we’re at it, Xander and Willow (or at least Willow and Oz), and also I have a huge crush on Giles and his open mic tendencies, the end.

FACT: I might be a little (overly, ahem) emotionally invested in Buffy. But it really is the best series of all time.

{End nerd tangent! End nerd tangent, hallelujah!}

FACT: May 4th marked the first official return of the mid-week PSU farmers market and it has been making me exceedingly happy ever since. Erin and I go every Wednesday and revel in the the fresh produce and cider and flowers, oh my! Not to mention the lovely (sometimes) sunlit midday stroll.

FACT: I have lovely and photogenic friends. Who like to wear stylish sunglasses.

(Ian, Jenelle, and their Zeke-a-saurus.)

FACT: Honeycrisp apples have overtaken Fuji and Braeburn for the Top Apple spot in my fruit-loving heart.

FACT: Orchids are gorgeous. Especially purple orchids that are a gift from coworkers as a way of saying, “Hi! Look how pretty we are! Also: We appreciate you.”

FACT: This perpetually in-my-face Portland rain is making me want to cry. I’m no rain wimp, and I will herein pledge my undying love to the Pacific Northwest, but Great Odin’s Raven, this spring has been less “Don’t forget your sunglasses!” and more “Quick, run for cover BEFORE WE ALL DROWN.”

FACT: I’m so ready for summer, and swimming, and sunburns, and SHARP TOOTH! SUNSHINE, it’s not even funny. Well, it might actually be a little funny. If you consider laughing at people’s perpetual soggy hair and faces and everyday places amusing. #fakeguilttrips

FACT: I quote movies, a lot. Also: This post sort of grew exponentially longer than I anticipated. Whoops.

—————
*Twenty gold stars for the first person who knows from which movie this post title comes. Hint: It’s amazing. And has nothing to do with vampires or vampire slayers or forbidden love doomed from the start because the man you fall in love with happens to be a brooding masochistic soul-y undead who is hell bent on a lonely path of redemption, and did we mention tall dark and handsome?

**Buffy quote (the “post hastey” part, that is). I couldn’t stop myself.

***#TeamSpikeForever
—————

Your turn! Tell me something true about you.

I started high school in a brand new Honors English class, and took AP English (and History and Biology) until I graduated, which took care of ensuring I was perpetually assigned a hefty reading list, both throughout the school year and during the summer, too.

I liked it that way; I loved those lists. “Required reading” lists helped me find some of the best fiction stories I’ve ever read in my life. Some of the best books I’m sure I will ever read.

Awhile back some friends on Twitter were listing books that changed their lives, and I made a mental note to revisit the topic in more detail than 140 characters would allow.

So which (fiction) books changed my life? So many of them. But first and foremost were these:

1. & 2. The Secret Garden and The Velveteen Rabbit. Let’s start at the very beginning. (A very good place to start.) These were the first two books I ever remember reading with my grandmother, and two books that shaped the way I looked at the world.

The Secret Garden had me convinced I was going to find an old door to which I would find an old key and I’d open it and walk straight into…Narnia, or someplace equally more fantastic than a secret garden I would probably have to weed. While I did routinely daydream about finding Narnia (Under my bed? Nope. Maybe under the stairs? No. Hmm…In a hole I could dig from the backyard?), I did verily love reading about that secret garden, and how non-cranky it made Colin.

The Velveteen Rabbit, which started as a story I loved, later became the first book to give me nightmares and make me look wearily at the impressively massive collection of stuffed animals occupying my room after I read the book when I was older (and more prone to imagining my toys coming to life at night). Toys coming to life when I’m asleep did not make me believe in magic or whimsy, but rather, made me believe I should lock all of my toys in a wooden chest and place my heaviest books on it, thereby stifling my toys’ abilities to wander about unsupervised in the middle of the night. The Indian in the Cupboard? More bad sleep juju for Kerri.

3. Phantoms, by Dean Koonz. I was twelve and a half, OK? Cut a girl some slack. I promise my choice in reading materials vastly improved as I kept reading. My dad died when I was in the 7th grade and among his things I found a Dean Koonz book. I’m not sure if Phantoms was the actual book, or if I just went and picked the first one I could find, but knowing my dad had at least entertained the thought of reading one of his books made me curious enough to want to read one, too. So I read Phantoms, and it’s a story I can still vividly recall to this day. It would have made a really compelling film, I remember thinking. Apparently someone else thought so, too. (Ben Affleck and Liev Schreiber? Annnd, added to my Netflix queue.)

Book Nerdery Rabbit Hole: Phantoms led to Sphere (below), which ultimately lead to Pet Sematary** (WHY, Kerri, WHY?), and a super brief Stephen King phase, wherein I realized he was a talented and prolific powerhouse while simultaneously realizing I didn’t want to read books that provided me ample nightmares about dead pets and children coming back to life, or rabid dogs who hold you hostage in your car, or cars with homicidal tendencies themselves, or a girl sharing my name (different spelling, thank you Mom and Dad) who is relentlessly teased until she goes all terrifyingly telekinetic on her entire high school. (Given my thoughts on The Velveteen Rabbit, you can probably also guess how I felt about The Tommyknockers (WHY Stephen King, WHY?).)

4. Sphere. The first and only Michael Crichton book I’ve read, but an amazing one. This book was The Abyss and Phantoms all in one psychologically thrilling underwater package. This was also the book that expanded my vocabulary by leaps and bounds because I read it in the 8th grade and refused to read past a word I couldn’t readily define. And because Crichton likes to use big words. At least when he’s telling stories about scary scientific sea exploration he does. (Having never read any other of Crichton’s novels I suppose I can’t adequately vouch for his range in diction.)

5. Go Go Gadget Grisham! OK, so that isn’t an actual title of a book I read. Though I would most likely read a book with that title, even if it was about mid-nineteenth-century accounting policies or the history of dental floss. From 7th grade until starting my freshman year of high school, I read nearly every single book John Grisham had written at that point in his writing career (which ultimately ended up being his first eight novels). A Time to Kill (based on a true story Grisham witnessed while working as an attorney in Mississippi) was my favorite of them all. Though surely harrowing in places, it was such a dynamic and emotional story, and so well-told. At the time I had no idea it was Grisham’s first-ever novel, as rather than chronologically, I read his books in the order of whichever-I-could-get-my-hands-on-first. Realizing (years later) that A Time to Kill was his debut, I remember being shocked, and quite impressed.

6. Interview with the Vampire. One of the first books I read in my aforementioned Honors English class, this book appeared on our summer reading list and I chose it to read and report on the first week of my freshman year of high school. At the time I remember thinking what a strange selection this was for me, as it was my very first vampire-centric novel (and perhaps then unsurprisingly my first bout with Anne Rice), but noting my Koonz/King/Grisham phase, I think maybe my choice was a bit less surprising than I originally thought. I remember this book being interesting and bizarre, and while I haven’t read another Anne Rice novel since (and don’t know that I ever will), this story paved the way for diving into a diverse and intimidating reading list, and is one that’s stuck with me over the years. A fact, I’m sure, aided by the presence of a pasty Brad Pitt and an even pastier Tom Cruise (and hi, Kirsten Dunst in her first big movie role!) in the film version.

7. Sense and Sensibility. My most favorite of all of Austen’s works, this book is one I’ve read multiple times, and one I would tell anyone leery of or intimidated by Austen to read. It’s such an engaging story, with perfectly lovable (and deplorable) characters you’ll swear you know even while the entire story is happening in a world that doesn’t exist anymore.

8. & 9. Heart of Darkness and Lord of the Flies. More high school/AP English reads, and the two I really did love from start to finish, and back again. I’ve read Heart of Darkness three times, and Lord of the Flies at least as many, and I find something new to appreciate about the story and the storytelling each and every time I read them.

10. The Virgin Suicides. One of the first books I ever read that wasn’t on a required reading list. And the first book I ever read after arbitrarily choosing it from a local bookstore based almost entirely on its cover. I would be highly rewarded for stumbling onto Eugenides. (I proselytized this book to everyone I knew in college, that’s how much I loved (and still love) it.) But this method of choosing books would come back to give me literary indigestion later, and has since been altogether abandoned. If you haven’t read this book, I highly highly, oh so highly recommend it. It’s definitely dark, but perpetually visually stunning, and Eugenides employs one of the most interesting frame narrative techniques I’ve ever read.

11. As I Lay Dying. My first and favorite Faulkner, I didn’t read this until junior year of college. I know a lot of people who have read and verily hate this book, and I can’t pretend to understand why. I still think about this story, recounting particularly interesting and/or grief-stricken scenes, and/or laughing at the name “Darl.” As I Lay Dying showed me how much I enjoy characters who get their own chapters to tell me their stories. It’s unreliable narrating at its finest, and I love it.

12. Moby-Dick. I don’t even know where to start singing the praises of this book, except to say it’s one of the most interesting and allegorical stories in the history of ever. Is Melville crazy long-winded? You bet he is. Is he going to tell you all about whales and whaling and seafaring and Queequeg? Until you want to stab him with a harpoon, probably. But I can’t help myself; I just dig Melville and his nautical themed pashmina afghan storytelling. He’s a sailor after my own heart, and I will forever be grateful one of my most beloved professors in undergrad was herself a Melvillean scholar, and petitioned the university to teach a class solely devoted to him. (His short stories are also some of my favorites.)

13. Harry Potter: Books 1-7. (That would be all of them, for those who haven’t yet been baptized in the goblet of fire.) I honestly can’t remember exactly when I read the very first book of the (literally and metaphorically) magical Harry Potter series, but I know it was all due to my lovely cousin Frances, as she had stumbled on them before I did and was tearing through them as literature lovers are wont to do. I was hooked from moment one, and stopped sleeping to read these stories about three little kids who stumble into a world of magic and friendship and mail-delivering owls, and remained happily hooked through books two and three, and into four, which quickly became the (longest, and) my favorite of the entire series. Book five made me want to throw it across the room on multiple occasions, so despicable and perfectly evil was Dolores Umbridge, and I don’t know that another book will ever make me cry as hard as I did when (SPOILER ALERT) Dumbledore dies, and the last book? The last book is why people comparing the Twilight series to anything Harry Potter are (on drugs, yes, and) will find their comparisons perpetually full of the brown stuff if they’ve actually read both series (which, yes, I have, somewhat regrettably when it comes to Twilight). J.K. Rowling, aside from being a much more creative and dynamic storyteller (and better writer) than Stephanie Meyer, also understands characterization, and how sometimes, to get at the real heart of the protagonist, and thus the heart of the story (and to get at the heart of the reader), some characters have to DIE. There is just no way around it, but Meyer (ANTI-SPOILER ALERT) can’t even come close to pulling the proverbial literary trigger in any of her books. See also: It’s hard to care about a BIG FINAL SUPER IMPORTANT BATTLE BETWEEN GOOD AND EVIL when three and half books of anxiety and “character building” leads to…ABSOLUTELY NOTHING. But, I digress. Vampirically. Suffice it to say Harry Potter et al. will forever be beloved literary characters, and for good reason. And that’s all I’ll say before this delves into five-paragraph-essay territory.

Book Nerdery Bonus Round: Recent Favorites

Neverwhere. This was my second book of Gaiman’s (the first was Coraline), and I somewhat stumbled on it after reading and loving Sunshine (another interesting pseudo-vampire novel) based on a trusted literary friend’s recommendation. Gaiman had written a blurb on the back of Sunshine, and I was curious about who he was, and what he wrote. I absolutely loved Neverwhere, and devoured the story in less than two days. It was the first for-adults novel I’d found in ages that featured just the right amount of magic, whimsy, and impressively creepy bad guys, and I found myself smitten with both the story and the storytelling, with both the villains and the imperfect heroes attempting to outrun them.

Percy Jackson & the Olympians. There are five books total in this series, and I’m pretty sure I have Kali to thank for ever finding them in the first place. These are like Harry Potter meets Greek myths, and they’re SO MUCH FUN to read. Some of the fastest books I’ve ever torn through, and some of the most memorable re-tellings of traditional Greek mythology, thanks to author Rick Riordan. If by chance your only experience with these stories is the somewhat recent film adaptation (I don’t know what that screenwriter was smoking), I beg you: Ignore the movie and run to your nearest library and check out Percy Jackson and The Lightning Thief. The movie is horrible, gets most everything wrong, and attempts to squash the first three books into one movie. Fail, fail, and more fail. But the books really are equal parts entertaining and educational, especially if you’re in need of a Greek mythology refresher course. And I mean, who isn’t really?

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So tell me, which fiction books changed your (reading or otherwise) life?

What are you reading now?

————–

*Post title is a quote from Arrested Development. One of my favorites, as it were.

**Actual title’s spelling. Everyone calls it “Pet Cemetery” but for whatever reason that’s not what King called it. Probably just to give me nightmares about misspelled words on top of nightmares about…everything else.

That, and I’ve been a little busy (roller skating with old and new friends, and) making every inch of my body sore in celebration of three months dedicated to becoming a better, stronger, faster Kerri via Jennie’s BBL competition. And you guys, IT’S TOTALLY WORKING. Which is pretty dang exciting, and I can’t even tell you how fantastic this year is already for the simple fact that I’ve taken my body back and I can literally feel it (hurting, yes! and) getting stronger every single day. I mean, seriously. I just linked you to a full body shot of me, which is probably the first full body shot of me I’ve willingly linked to in…years? Since this one, maybe? And the first one I can remember actually being excited about in at least that long.

To say I’m incredibly psyched about 2011 is to grossly understate. Ready? Me, too.

——————-A YEAR COMPLETE: 2011————–

• Rock the GREs (Most likely later in the year, after my brain has been sufficiently replenished with the required amount of literary knowledge).

• Research graduate programs for English Literature/decide if I want to teach at the collegiate level when I grow up (As you probably noticed this goal goes pretty clearly hand-in-hand with rocking the GREs).

• I received some really great (and quite unexpected) feedback on my writing this past year. Personal letters from multiple editors about how far a certain piece made it in a contest and/or how they thought I should revamp a piece and resubmit it, and it was just the encouragement I needed to keep pushing myself forward with my work. So, to that end: Keep entering writing contests. Keep writing and polishing my stories.

• Get in the water with kayaks and paddles! Specifically: Kayak along the Columbia River during a full moon; Kayak along the Oregon Coast.

• Attend and survive my first ever! group fitness class. Done and done, and loved!

• Keep rocking The Bar Method until I’m as strong as I used to/want to be.

• I also really want to focus on my flexibility this year, and so with that: Stretch daily. No exceptions, no excuses.

• See Minneapolis for the first time in July, while visiting my sister (and her brand new, first ever baby!).

• Take a letterpress printing class.

• Rock my first ever outdoor boot camp in May. (A big thanks! to Sarah for saying “Do it! You’ll totally love it!” when I was trying to decide if I should buy the Groupon or let it sprint on by.)

• Get plugged in. I just want to be more present. With my friends, at work, at church, in my community. I want to pitch in and volunteer and get out and take notice of places where I might be able to help.

• Make Dance Dance Party Party! a regular Friday evening routine. This is happily already in the works, as I’ve been dancing my proverbial thighs off (with Erin and Hans!) for the past four weeks in a row.

• Decide if Roller Derby is right for me by attending various boot camp dates from January – May.

• Get back to Maui, possibly again for Labor Day weekend. (As my Original Maui Buddy is busy with wedding prep this year, the spot next to me on the plane is up for grabs! I promise to let you have the arm rest.)

• Move into an apartment or house where I’m paying less rent. (This is most likely going to happen toward the end of the year, unless something amazingly unexpected happens sooner than I can save for the move.)

• Bungee jump, here. (Bonus points for convincing someone to jump with me. Come on, you guys! You know you want to dive head first off a bridge at least once in your life.)

• Stay in Cannon Beach for a night (or a weekend) all by myself. (Iggy can come, too, I guess.)

• Take a Nia/Zumba class with Jen, Sizz and Terrell while I’m visiting Seattle one weekend.

• Plan and finish at least three scenic Pacific NW hikes. (This was something I never got to last year, that I really really want to make a priority this year.)

• Visit NYC for the first time.

• This past year I fell in love with trail running. I plan to keep running, and while I have intentions to finish the Shamrock Run (5k) March 13 (hopefully with Rhi and Kali again!), and the Columbia River Crossing (my first ever 10k), October 2, more than finishing races, I just want to keep running, and keep pushing myself distance-wise throughout the year.
  

• Maintain (and hopefully enjoy!) a pretty crazy monthly reading schedule. This is going to be way more intense than my two-books-a-month goal last year, and a bit more structured than I originally imagined, if only because if I really think I’m going to accomplish my aforementioned goal of rocking the GREs, I need to re-read (and read for the first time) the books on which I’m going to be tested. And hoo boy, has it been awhile since some of these books and I had some serious one-on-one time. So far, this is my plan of literary attack:

January: Poetry refreshers on Blake, Keats, Frost and Seamus Heaney

February: Jude the Obscure; David Copperfield; Matthew Arnold (esp Dover Beach); Shelley Refresher

March: Shakespeare refresher; Milton’s Paradise Lost; Catch-22; The Great Gatsby; Great Expectations refresher

April: The Iliad, The Odyssey and Ulysses refreshers; Dryden’s All for Love; Chaucer refresher; A.E. Housman and Walt Whitman refreshers; Gulliver’s Travels

May: Tolstoy and T.S. Eliot refreshers; Byron’s Don Juan; Pope’s An Essay on Criticism; Wuthering Heights; Orwell refresher

June: Melville, Faulkner, Hawthorne, Wilde and Hemingway refreshers; Dylan Thomas; Wordsworth refresher (especially Lyrical Ballads); Heart of Darkness

July: Joyce’s Dubliners; Native Son; Plath and Dickenson refreshers; Thomas Gray’s Elegy Written in a Country Churchyard

August: Doctor Faustus; Middlemarch; Woolf refresher; 17th Century British poets refresher (Marvell; Herbert; Herrick; Lovelace; Carew); Short fiction refresher

September: Dante’s Divine Comedy; The Faerie Queen; Walden; Oedipus Rex; A Modest Proposal

October: Tom Jones; Plato’s Republic; The Way of the World; Frankenstein; Dostoevsky refresher

November: Rock the test!

December: Read something ridiculous that takes absolutely zero brain power. I’m thinking a children’s ABC book. Or maybe a coloring book.

———————–C’EST FINIT!———————-

So that’s it! And of course that’s really just the beginning. This list, like the one before it, is merely a plank off of which I intend to walk (or perhaps maybe dive), a place where I can routinely check in with myself and keep pushing myself forward despite the aches and pains that always accompany personal and physical growth.

(For anyone wondering, 2010′s updated list is here.)

It was my take on a more specific version of the ever-popular “bucket/life/to-do” lists, the following items representing what I had on my heart and mind for 2010: places I wanted to be, people I wanted to see, challenges I wanted to hog-tie. Ultimately: personal growth I wanted to foster, momentum I wanted to keep creating throughout the entire year ahead.

My mantra for 2010: Be brave, Kerri.

Throughout the past year I traveled. First to China, then to Korea, and then to Maui. I spent a lot of time with dear friends, both in Seattle and in Portland. I spent a lot of time alone, happily. I spent a lot of time brainstorming and writing stories. My hands shook and my heart raced as I entered poetry contests and received helpful criticism and feedback. I fell in love with acupuncture. I read more than I have since I was in college, and watched myriad (good and hilariously bad) movies. I found a church family again, and get to hang out with dear friends once a week, and a slew of awesome kids once a month. I found new and old music to inspire and move me. I let someone in for the first time in years, and watched him hurt me; I picked myself back up and kept moving forward. I remembered how to run, and how much I love to move. I lost twenty-five! pounds, and counting.

I grew by leaps and bounds, even while I was kicking and screaming and fighting my way through the official ending of marriage, and the official beginning of a new life, traipsing slowly but surely back to a woman I had almost forgotten, and forward through the haze to a stronger, confident, more faith-filled woman I’m still learning to recognize.

Throughout the past twelve months as I hit certain milestones and accomplished specific goals, I also updated the master list below on the page of my site I’ve been calling A Year Complete. For anyone interested, I’ve copied my entire list from 2010, and the corresponding updates below. (I’ve bolded goals on the list I didn’t finish this year, or goals that changed for me throughout the year.)

I’m currently working on my list for 2011, which I plan to post here in the next week or so. And while some of the goals will remain the same (For example, I want to keep reading two books a month whenever possible), I’m making this year’s list a bit simpler, and even more specific, all the while feeling endlessly excited and oh so hopeful about all that lies ahead.

————-A Year Complete: 2010———–

Jump into the Pacific Ocean at midnight on New Year’s Eve.

Take my first solo international flight.

Hike and photograph The Great Wall of China.

Wander around Beijing by myself and see how many times I get lost. (Zero times, surprisingly!)

Finish both stories I’m currently writing. I didn’t finish a single story, but I started at least five, on top of two that are moving toward novel-length manuscripts, and I’m genuinely excited about (and challenged by) all of them.

Take the streetcar to work while I still live near it. Or just get my parking paid for, thereby eliminating the guilt I feel for needing to commute.

Spend ten amazing days in South Korea with babycarrot sister and Will.

Kayak along the Columbia River; Kayak along the Columbia River during a full moon; Kayak along the Oregon Coast. I didn’t make it kayaking this year, and really really want to next year.

Kayak with Jen! on Lake Washington. No kayaking means this didn’t happen this year, despite our best laid plans. What did happen was me spending more time in Seattle with Jen (and Sizzle and Andrea and Terrell!) then I have any other year. To me that quality time means more than time spent kayaking.

Be an encouragement to as many people as possible. At least, I’m hoping I accomplished this. Note to self: Try to list goals that are a bit more…measurable.

Move into an apartment or house where I’m paying less rent. This didn’t happen this year (Newsflash: I hate! moving), but it’s going to the top of 2011′s To Do list.

Run, run, and run some more (specifically)–
In the rain on the beach.
In Forest Park.
Shamrock Run (5k), March 14 with Rhi! and Kali! (Finished!)
Columbia River Crossing (10k), October 3 Update: I registered for but didn’t run this race. No excuses; I just wasn’t ready. I plan to be ready next year.

Successfully turn Iggy into a running pug. Despite my best efforts, Iggy was not a fan of this plan. He can hang for a mile or so, and then is fond of sitting down mid-stride and looking at me like I’m crazy.

Journal daily (which is going to be great fun thanks to this little guy). Update: For the first time in my life I journaled daily from January 1-May, and then realized I didn’t want to journal daily anymore. I don’t always have a lot to say. And you know what? That’s OK.

Write letters on real paper to friends and family for no particular reason.

Tell people “I’m a writer” and mean it. This was harder, and felt more awesome, than I could have ever imagined. The best part were the times people introduced me as a writer without me having to say a word.

Take the train to Seattle to visit my rad Seattle friends. I drove every time I visited Seattle this year, which was Many A Time. I really do want to take the train one of these trips. I just have to get over how much longer it takes via train vs. how fast I like to drive.

Volunteer in my community, maybe helping with an after-school reading program. Update: I’m currently in the process of getting hooked up with two elementary-aged kiddos who need reading help, and I also signed up to be a whale watching volunteer, which, I’m not going to lie, sounds like the coolest volunteer gig ever.

Get back in the pool. (Specifically: swim 2-3x/week.) Update: I actually traded this goal for running 5x a week, and I’m really glad I did. I love the pool, (all caps!) LOVE to swim, but I (all caps!) HATE the gym, and realistically (right now anyway) that’s what swimming regularly would mean. I can’t do the gym. So I took to the trails instead, and swam as much as I could when I was visiting my parents up at the lake.

Visit the Portland Chinese Gardens (pictures here) and the Portland Japanese Gardens (pictures here).

Read at least two books a month:
January: The Wild Things; The Help.
February: Treasure Island; Notes From a Small Island; How We Are Hungry.
March: The Tale of the Unknown Island.
April: Whoops. (That’s not a book. That’s me totally blowing my reading goals in April.)
May: Dead In The Family; What I Talk About When I Talk About Running.
June: A Long Way Gone: Memoirs of a Boy Soldier.
July: The Dread Crew: Pirates of the Backwoods; Linger.
August: The Red Pyramid; The Hunger Games; Catching Fire.
September: Mockingjay; The Lion, The Witch and the Wardrobe.
October: God is the Gospel; The Lost Hero.
November: Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows.
December: Lolita; Moby-Dick.

Spend a few days in New York in August, with a plethora of lovely, hilarious ladies. Update: This wasn’t in the cards for me this year, and as much as it initially hurt, it was one of the best financial decisions I’ve ever made, and instead of New York I was able to visit Maui for the first time and swim (and see a shark, and get stung by a Portuguese Man-of-War), and laugh so hard my stomach hurt with a dear friend who was as excited about impromptu vacations and shaved ice as I was.

Re-read Moby-Dick. It has begun.

Bungee jump, here. Somewhat surprisingly, no one was super psyched about doing this with me. Which isn’t to say I can’t do it alone. Because I still very much want to.

Spend more time near the ocean. Exhibit: Quality Coastal Time.

Enter at least one writing contest every two months. Update: Four poetry competitions entered in July, 2010.

Spend two days in Vancouver, B.C. in April. (Recap here.)

Try out for the Rose City Rollers. I have skates, and a helmet, and wrist and elbow and knee pads. I even have a mouth guard. What I’m not sure I have is time. High on 2011′s priority list is figuring out if, and how, roller derby might be in the cards for me.

Plan and finish at least three scenic Pacific NW hikes; I’m thinking:
Pacific Coast of Washington
Cape Lookout (to go whale-watching) Update: I’m potentially doing this this upcoming weekend as it’s happily grey whale-watching season once again on the Oregon Coast.
Harts Cove

Watch one documentary a month. Update: You know? A good documentary is hard to find. But I’m still moving this goal to 2011.

Show Jen a Pacific Northwest Good Time when she visits PDX in June October. Done, done, and done.

Bake a pumpkin pie with a homemade crust. I did not bake any pies this year. I did, however, eat some homemade pie. I’m good with that.

See Percy Jackson in February, Eclipse in June and Harry Potter in November, with a friend as excited to see all three of those movies as I am. Updated to add: Movie dates with Kali have become a monthly routine I enjoy immensely, no matter the movie we’re watching. For list-making’s and posterity’s sakes, beyond what’s listed above, thus far this year we’ve seen: The A-Team; The Sorcerer’s Apprentice; Step Up 3D; Scott Pilgrim vs. The World; The Expendables; Easy A; Morning Glory; Burlesque; to be continued…

I actually saw Harry Potter on opening night by myself, and it was AWESOME. The movie, and watching a movie was big as Harry Potter on opening night by myself, at midnight. With a room full of teenagers and grown men who know the answers to ridiculous HP trivia questions like, “What’s the license plate of the Weasley’s car?” A GROWN MAN stood up and recited the correct answer without hesitating. I was impressed. And a little scared.

Get my buttercup tattoo. Updated to add: I have three new tattoos I had done in 2010, none of which is the aforementioned buttercup tattoo. I have “I love you” in Korean in my sister’s handwriting on my lower left wrist, and a feather and a fern on my right inner forearm, all done by Silje at Icon in Portland. I can’t recommend Silje, or Icon, enough. Cutest, cleanest, most artistic tattoo shop I’ve ever visited.

Make a plan to be college-loan-debt-free by the end of 2011, and continue growing my savings every month. Update: This is in the works! And I’m excited!

Attend an event at OMSI. I was all excited about OMSI at the beginning of the year, and then soon realized I was more excited about everything else I was doing than I was about OMSI.

Research graduate programs for English Literature/decide if I want to teach at the collegiate level when I grow up. This is going to the top of 2011′s list, along with taking the GREs. If going back to school is in my future, that future starts this year.

Take a page from Sizz’s book and create a soundtrack for the year.

Tell my friends how amazing they are and how much I love them on a regular basis.

Laugh, a lot.

—————-

So tell me, what’s your favorite accomplishment/trip/moment from 2010?

———

Your turn!

Anyone currently reviewing something awesome? Feel free to hijack my comments and tell everyone what it is!

• Friends who call me for no reason, or for very specific reasons, and who ask me every question, or no questions, while I ramble and spill my words clumsily and excitedly all over them.
• Butterflies in places where I didn’t realize I could feel them again.
• Emotional transparency.
• Accountability.
• Redeeming love.
• Grace. The amazing kind.
• Sisterhood.
• Greek festivals with tasty gyros.
• Impromptu mid-week dinners with dear friends who make me laugh, and make me feel like family.
• Nine out of ten consecutive days running in the woods, where I feel free to sprint and jog and sweat and stumble, and cry and laugh as my body remembers where it’s going and where it’s been.
• Hot apple cider.
• Crisp fall days that mean I get to wear scarves and hoodies and maybe even socks.
• New Chucks.
• Mustaches, both real and imagined.
• Meatloaf. (The musician, not the 1950′s dinner staple.)
• Walking toward difficult conversations intentionally.
• A job filled with people who believe in the work we’re doing daily, and who believe in me.
• Kind words spoken honestly and thoughtfully.
• Mid-day walks with coworkers who inspire me and make me laugh.
• Evening walks with a best friend who lives eight blocks away from me, and loves me even when I’m ridiculous.
• Bright October sunshine.
• New Twitter. You guys, I just can’t hate it. I cannot. I think it’s rad, and super functional, and I could just kiss it.
• Time to write, to read, to daydream.
• Texts about sailing, about support, about random hip hop lyrics.
• Possibility. Hope. A promise of something amazing on the horizon.
• Upcoming quality time with friends both old and new. (To clarify, Torrie and I have been Twitter buds forever, but I have yet to see her lovely face in person. EXCITED.)

—————–

What about you? What are you thankful for today, this week, always?

—————

This post inspired by a dear friend of mine for whom I am quite thankful.

Wait for it…

TV’s Top Five Characters, According To Kerri, Who Is Of Course An Expert In All Things Television And Character-Related. Also, She Has Impeccable Character Taste And Labored For Hours To Keep This List To Five And Five Only, Because She Has A Healthy Respect For Rules. Also, This Is An Exceedingly Long Title For A Silly Little List.

5. Sue Sylvester from GLEE

The Rationale: You mean, beyond her bright colored track suits, her obsession with protein shakes and national cheerleading championships, and her constant snark? Basically, Sue Sylvester is just endlessly entertaining. I know GLEE isn’t for everyone, but if you haven’t given it a fighting chance, I actually feel a little sad for you, because of all the laughing you could be doing, but aren’t.

Memorable Quote: “For me trophies are like herpes. You know why? Sue Sylvester has hourly flare-ups of burning, itchy, highly contagious talent.”

4. Hiro Nakamura from Heroes

The Rationale: One of (arguably too) many protagonists from the superhero series, Hiro could hold his own in any situation, and while simultaneously serving as the Master of Time and Space and providing endless comic relief, he was also the moral center of the show. Perhaps more importantly, he just made me smile every time he was on screen.

Memorable Quote: “You are not faster than me, nemesis.”

3. Sydney Bristow from Alias

The Rationale: I could probably include every single character from the first three seasons, and I almost chose Jack Bristow over Sydney, but as I was trying not to make this list as long as my fickle tendencies, Agent Sydney Bristow it is. Alias ranks as one of my all-time favorite shows, and Bristow (played by one of my all-time favorite actresses and action heroines, Jennifer Garner) inspired a generation of women to hope they were going to be recruited into a TOP SECRET government agency while they were innocuously standing in their collegiate library. I’m actually still waiting. *Looks around innocently with a stack of large books*

Memorable Quote: “I just wanted to rip his finger right off again. Does that make me a bad person?”

2. Dr. Gregory House from House

The Rationale: Anyone who has seen an episode of House probably knows why he’s in my top three. He’s charming, super smart, ridiculously witty, and also a bit of an ass. That last part might be a bit of an understatement. He’s easily one of the most interesting (and unpredictable) characters ever to be on television, and House is one of very few shows that actually makes me feel smarter after having watched an episode or thirty.

Memorable Quote: “Relax, your nose isn’t big, it’s just conspicuous.”

1. TV’s Top Character Of All-Time*, doing business as: Spike from Buffy The Vampire Slayer

The Rationale: Have we effectively established my steadfast devotion to (one of the best shows of all-time, yes, and) the British vampire with acerbic wit and handsomely peroxided hair? The second he walked into the cast of Buffy, he was my instant favorite, and every scene and story-line featuring him was one I thought was twice as interesting, twice as dramatic, and three times as hilarious. I recently got to see his (non-peroxided) head featured in the pilot of Hawaii Five-0** and I may have actually exclaimed,”Spike!” to an plane full of people who were ultimately disinterested in why the girl sitting in the exit row was suddenly struggling with a bout of TV Tourette’s.

Memorable Quote: “I hate being obvious. All fangy and ‘grr!’ Takes the mystery out.”

Special Honorable Mention, The First: Dr. Cal Lightman from Lie to Me

The Rationale: This is a show I’ve loved since the very first episode, but I don’t think I’ve ever mentioned it anywhere. Lightman is just such a dynamic and hilarious character. He’s perfectly imperfect, highly intelligent, British (also: witty and sarcastic), and seemingly can’t stand without hunching/tilting his head to the side, which I find much more endearing coming from him than from say, Horatio Cane. (Yeaaaaaaah!)

Memorable Quote: “Ethics, always so inconvenient.”

Special Honorable Mention, The Second: Sayid Jarrah from LOST

ANTI-SPOILER ALERT: PLEASE DO NOT TELL ME HOW LOST ENDS, and if Sayid somehow turns out to be The Loch Ness Monster, I honestly don’t want to know.  I have hereby managed to avoid any end-of-series spoilers, as I’m still working my way through Season Five. (If Jack had been eaten by a puff of magical smoke, I would probably have finished the series ages ago. I can only handle so much Self-Righteous Shephard in one sitting.)

The Rationale: Sayid’s was always my favorite storyline on LOST. OK, well his AND Desmond’s were my favorite storylines, but I chose Sayid over Desmond for Honorable Mention because he’s in twice as many episodes as Desmond is, and because I’m TRYING to keep this list to a manageable number of beloved characters. I’m also totally cheating right now, but what else is new?

Memorable Quote: “If we tell them what we know, we take away their hope, and hope is a very dangerous thing to lose.”

———————

Additional Honorable Mentions Because Basically, I’m Still Cheating: Gob Bluth from Arrested Development; Barney and Marshall from How I Met Your Mother; Desmond, Jin, and Kate from LOST;  Topher and Victor from Dollhouse; Noah Bennet, Ando, and Sylar from Heroes; the entire cast of Buffy; Jeff, Annie, and Abed from Community; Nancy and Andy from Weeds; Fox Mulder from The X-Files; Mark Benford and Dmetri Noh from (the very sadly canceled) Flash Forward; Dr. Mark Greene from ER; Josh Lyman from The West Wing.

*Until now, that is. This could change, though it would take a seriously awesome character to usurp The Spike. Bring it, television.

**We were able to preview the pilot to and from Maui, and is it weird that I think this show actually looks good? I mean, Scott Caan! I’m sort of a fan. (And Daniel Dae Kim!) And HAWAII. Definitely a fan.

**Post title from (where else?) Buffy.

———————-

We have established I am a hopeless television nerd (all without owning a television for the past year and a half), yes? Great!

Now it’s your turn! I want to you know the characters YOU think are at the top of the television heap.

Ready, set, GO.

—————

Some of the most memorable places I have stood, in no particular order:

On The Great Wall of China.
Next to my sister as she took her wedding vows.
In front of the Kremlin in Moscow.
Next to my favorite Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtle.
Priest Lake. Specifically, my family’s Priest Lake dock spot.
On Mt. Seorak, South Korea.
Poolside for countless summers with friends, and cousins, and awesome(ly ridiculous) bikinis.
At the base of Mother Russia in Volgograd (formerly Stalingrad).
On a surfboard in Oahu, Hawaii (for a few exhilarating seconds, anyway).
In Sunriver, Oregon as one of my oldest friends married her best friend, after reading vows I wrote for them.
On Cannon Beach, myriad times.
Almost directly across the Pacific from Cannon Beach, in Naksan, South Korea.
In front of a small house I helped build in Rosarito, Mexico.
In front of the Capitol Building in Washington D.C.
In an upstairs room of a house outside of L.A. with a writer/family member I had just met (Hi! Karen), swapping stories.
On Navy Pier in Chicago.
In front of professors and peers while I read essays prepared for a literature symposium, twice.
In a freezing cold Pacific Ocean at midnight on the very first day of this year.
In front of the stretch of river that took my father’s life.
In the Lower 9th Ward in New Orleans, post Hurricane Katrina.
A few rows in front of Ray LaMontagne as he sang himself out of breath performing one of my all-time favorite songs.
On curvaceous Lombard Street in San Francisco.
On a snowy mountainside with Hans at 3am one morning, realizing we were going to trek two miles uphill to a cabin.
In front of my grandfather in his hospital room, just a few hours before he succumbed to cancer.
On a bridge with an adventurous friend, before we jumped off it. (Into water; we are only mildly crazy.)
Underneath the biggest LED light display in the world (in Beijing).
Next to my dad as he carried my sister on his shoulders while we explored what is now Colbert, Washington.
With Kali at the finish line of the Shamrock 5k this past March.
In Vancouver, B.C. after a hilarious weekend with some of my best friends.
Outside after my first Dance Dance Party Party, feeling completely uninhibited for the first time in a long time.
Close enough to see Tom Petty perspire.
On a rolling walkway surrounded on all sides by tanks filled with sharks at Sea World: Orlando.
On Naito Parkway as my sister ran by amidst a churning sea of other dedicated bodies on her way to 26.2 miles.
In front of my parents as I took the first picture I ever loved.
On a wakeboard in Malibu, Canada.
In front of Big Eddy this weekend, a string of class 3/class 4 rapids on the Deschutes river, before doing this:

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Your turn! Tell me some of the most memorable places you’ve stood.