The first appliance I ever bought

As a college freshman living at home, a half hour away from the big city, I often wondered what it would be like when I moved out. A part of me still couldn't believe that my classmates griped about roommates and grocery shopping instead of parents and siblings, and my stomach flip-flopped every time I thought about the day that I would complain about grown-up stuff like the cost of milk.

I imagined thousands of scenarios: roommates who would become my adopted sisters, BYU's giant pool of returned missionaries who were suddenly contenders for my own Eternal Prince Charming™, late-night adventures with study groups and grocery shopping mates, cleaning checks done by someone other than my mom, classes with students from exotic places like Kentucky and Pennsylvania. Maybe I would cross paths with one of those football players I saw on TV (though I wouldn't know it if I did), or I would be on a first-name basis with someone who helped compile the 1985 LDS Hymnbook.

I imaged horrifying scenarios as well: roommates who would steal my shampoo and leave the light on all night, living quarters the size of my parents' kitchen and living room, college-level science classes and teachers who don't know their students' names, homesickness that would hit at the worst times, like when I'm at a party full of people who all know how to socialize better than I do.

I wanted it all. I wanted to start with nothing—no friends, no dishes, no furniture—and build a new life to stack on top of the foundation my parents had already built for me.

When I moved into Miller 6 on that August day, I took in everything (though I tried not to breathe in too much—visits to other college apartments had warned me that apartments don't always smell nice) from the stained, shaggy blue carpet to whitewashed walls. It wasn't exactly the grand welcome I had envisioned in my highest-rated fantasies, but it was my new life, nonetheless.

It took me a few days to notice that we didn't have a toaster. Me and the five other girls living there had all assumed a toaster would come with the apartment, bolted into place like the fridge and microwave.

It was my first crisis as an adult. How would I have my after-school snack (toast) without a toaster? How would I make tomato sandwiches with the tomatoes from my grandpa's garden?

I took it upon myself to furnish our apartment with a toaster. To my great surprise and delight, I found one at Walmart for just five dollars. A white, dinky little toaster.

When it perfectly toasted its first slice of bread, I spread the good news to my family and roommates and wrote about it in my journal. I had bought my first appliance, one that made a simple delicacy like toast a part of my new adult life.

I used that toaster for years. It switched owners a couple of times, got a little tired as the years passed, but it was still my toaster, the talisman of my adult life.

Today, I bought a new toaster. I needed one with longer slots to accommodate the fancy bread I make with my bread maker. I almost grabbed a toaster very similar to my dinky toaster model, but then I saw the shiny silver toasters that had settings for "bagels" and "frozen." I forgot about the single-digit-priced toaster and got this thirty-dollar one instead.

This newer, shinier model means that I don't have to cut off sections of huge bread before toasting it. It has features I didn't think I needed until I found out they existed. I won't have to push the toast down twice anymore, which will deprive me of daily thoughts of one of my favorite Hugh Jackman movies.

I still try to stick to my buy-no-article-of-clothing-over-twenty-dollars rule, I still use a dumb phone, and the promise of free food still affects my meal schedule days in advance. But the good-enough-for-now mentality I had in college has been replaced with the this-is-cooler-and-you-can-have-it mentality I slowly adopted after replacing my hourly student wage with a salary and benefits. My life comprises more than just the simple necessities of life now.

It's a good place to be in, but I'm sure going to miss that little toaster.

A happy post

I do not like January and February. Oh, you picked up on that already? Silly me, thinking I was being subtle.

But I'm getting a little tired of dwelling on my list of 7,000 Reasons Why This Time of Year Is Out to Get Me. So today I'm just going to think about happy things.

• BYU basketball. My cougars account for about 70 percent of my happiness during this time of year. I'm glad that horrible losing streak was in December and not now, because I really don't think I could handle too many losses at the moment.
• I started reading The Count of Monte Cristo. It's ridiculously long (1200+ pages), and I love it.
• I pulled out my Gilmore Girls DVDs a few weeks ago. Prepare yourself for an uptick in GG references during the next few months.
• My bread maker and I are working our way toward a happy medium.
• Now that I'm making my own bread, I don't have to go to the grocery store as much.
• I still love "Danny Boy," even though I listened to it like 30 times last week.
• The Hudson Lights album isn't bad, either.
• The unexpected peace and calm from Saturday's temple visit hasn't worn off yet.
• I still have some Christmas chocolate left. (By the way, melted Resee's are delicious.)
• I bought gas for $2.96/gallon this morning. It was at least $3.09 everywhere else.
• I think I'm going to make a couple of chains this week: 70 for school and 128 for vacation.
• I get a free dinner on Thursday.
• My bed is so, so soft.
• I should get a pretty good tax return this year. Yay for being a student.
• My typing-up-journals project has reached my college life. I miss my college life. You know what's crazy? By the end of this year, I will have been out of college for longer than I was in college. Please excuse me while I pick up the pieces of my blown mind.

I'd rather be in Ireland

Today was not a good day. My bread maker and I are warring, I had a bad hair day, I've caught senioritis for the third (and hopefully, final) time, and the January blues are wafting in the air. Not even my playlist designed for days like this could rid the scowl from my face.

So what do you do when you're faced with such overpowering adversity? Close your eyes, and think of [insert warm and sunny place here].

As for me, I'm thinking of Ireland. If I could disapparate, I would think of my destination with proper determination and deliberation, twist, and open my eyes to shades of green Utah can't produce. I'd be standing on a mountainside overlooking a blue lake, breathing in the fresh Irish air where there are no people to share it with. It doesn't matter if the sun is shining or if it is raining hard enough to soak me through in minutes. That is where I want to be right now.

Usually I tell people that my #1 travel destination is New Zealand, because, well, Middle Earth. But Ireland is always at the back of my mind. I've had an unexplainable love for Irish music (minus the bagpipes) since I saw Behind the Waterfall, and when my piano teacher lent me a booklet of Irish songs  when I had played through most of our library at home. P.S., I Love You is one of my favorite movies because it takes place in Ireland, not to mention it has a soundtrack that, again, I can't explain why I love so much. Ireland is also full of green, my favorite color.

But since I can't actually go to Ireland, I'll just close my eyes and drink in the haunting melody and beautiful lyrics of Vocal Point's version of "Danny Boy" over and over again. I love, love, love the third verse that Vocal Point wrote for this song.

New year tidbits

We're in the thick of reality now. Five full work days this week. Five full school days, as well. Sigh.

I spent several hours last week rearranging my apartment. I didn't sleep well Saturday night because my room felt weird.

Yesterday, my ward doubled in size. The reason? Switching from 9:00 church to 1:00 church.

I'm thinking of chronicling my "be" resolution on this blog this year as an added incentive to actually do it. Still debating about that.

Speaking of goals, I finished re-compiling my first journal book (birth through middle school) last night. As I was formatting the index, I stopped to look up all the goals I had set. Here are some of my favorites:

• Only be an idiot if everyone's in the right mood
• Don't be so slow at card games
• Don't put my knees up at the table for a week
• *Be nice to Kimberly
• Run faster than Kimberly
• Have a good reputation
• Get very hyper each morning, so I shall be able to make wonderful friends
• Get the proper amount of sleep w/out napping

In 2001, I also set some long-term goals, like these:

• Receive my Young Woman of Recognition award. Check.
• Learn to play sax and piccolo. Check on the second one.
• Be in trevairs (Trouveres). Check.
• Have 3 different jobs. I met this requirement before I even graduated from high school. When I made the goal, though, having a job was like the scariest thing ever, so planning to have three different jobs in my lifetime probably felt like an ambitious goal at the time.
• Graduate from BYU or UVSC. Check.
• Get married in the temple. Not check.
• Be a mom. Not check.
• Write a book (and publish). Do my blog books count?
• Go see all the states (so far I have Utah, Idaho, Montana, Wyoming, and California). It took me 13 years to add two more to the list: Washington D.C./Virginia and Nevada.

*I also made goals to be nice to Mom, Tiffany, and Tyrel, but believe it or not, I recognized my need to be nicer to Kimberly the most.*

2013 book awards

I read more books this year than I've read in any one year of my life (if you don't count picture books). It was exhilarating in a way, but I kind of never want to do it again.

I'm grateful for the experience, though. I've grown a lot as a writer this year, and my intense reading load had a lot to do with that.

And, if possible, books mean more to me now than they ever have. Just like friends in human form, books affect you no matter where you're at in life. They change as you change. It was eye-opening to re-read series like Harry Potter, Hunger Games, and Mistborn and experience them in a whole new way. I also have more patience for books that in a former life I wouldn't have even considered, which has introduced me to some delightful new treasures.

Goal: 75 books

Books read: 81

First reads: 54

Re-reads: 27

Longest book: A Clash of Kings, by George R.R. Martin. 969 pages.

Shortest book: Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them, by Newt Scamander. 42 pages.

Total # of pages read: 29,007

Average # of pages per book: 358

Ratings:

• 5 stars: 24
• 4 stars: 21
• 3 stars: 24
• 2 stars: 10
• 1 star: 2

*I've eliminated the Harry Potter series from the following awards. I wanted to give the other books a chance.*

Favorite book: Catching Fire, by Suzanne Collins. I know, I know—it's cliché to pick such a popular book as my favorite book of the year. But I'm sticking to it. This book is intense, exciting, thought provoking, and emotion-inducing—all the things today's audience wants—but it also has things like characterization and character growth. That is extremely rare in a world that is happy enough with fast-paced action and predictable endings.

Least favorite book: Death in Venice, by Thomas Mann. This book is stuffed with classical references and is supposed to be an inspiring contemplation on finding lost art. In other words, it's incomprehensible the first time you read it. And it's about a man who stalks this "beautiful boy" until he (the stalker) dies. Creepy.

Best escape novel: Mistborn, by Brandon Sanderson. This is the first time in a few years that I've read a Sanderson novel that wasn't Wheel of Time related. I've been a Sanderson fan for a while, but it was still a surprisingly enjoyable experience re-reading this series (partly because I must have been half-dead the first time I read the trilogy and failed to retain most of the details, so it was like reading it for the first time). Even when my eyes hurt from reading endless pages for my American Realism/Naturalism class, I couldn't go to sleep without escaping into this world for at least a half hour. With the amount of worldbuilding Sanderson does, it's really easy to escape into this unique world. 

Best nonfiction: Quiet: The Power of Introverts in a World That Can't Stop Talking, by Susan Cain. Throughout my life, I've been asked a variation of the question, "Why don't you ever talk?" more times than I care to remember. I used to be quite sensitive about it because it made me feel like there was something wrong with me. Quiet was such a refreshing read because for once, it defends the traits of introverts rather than praises the traits of extroverts. It helped me embrace the person I am rather than try to become someone else.

Yawn award: How the Other Half Lives, by Jacob A. Riis. Think photojournalism meets Charles Dickens. This is actually an important book and it made me really grateful that I have a life that involves more than working myself to death for hard bread and crappy shelter, but man. Just thinking about the book makes me yawn. I wish I could have absorbed this book in small pieces, but I didn't really have a choice on that matter. Stupid school.

Chick award: Austenland, by Shannon Hale. This is quite possibly the girliest book I have ever read. If you're in the right mood for it, it's clever, fun, and hilarious. I listened to the audio version of this book several years ago when I was working in the bindery and I couldn't stop smiling. That was definitely the best shift I ever had.

Funniest book: Hyperbole and a Half: Unfortunate Situations, Flawed Coping Mechanisms, Mayhem, and Other Things That Happened, by Allie Brosh. This book is based on one of those blogs that you read when you're supposed to be working and everyone knows you're not working because you keep snorting because your laughter has to escape somehow. If you don't mind a little (and sometimes, a lot) of profanity, definitely give this book/blog a read some time.

Saddest book: The Fault in Our Stars, by John Green. This book is about teenagers dying of cancer. Of course it wins the Saddest Book award.

Weirdest book: Midnight's Children, by Salman Rushdie. Once I realized that this book is an allegory of India gaining its independence, it made a lot more sense. But without that knowledge it's just plain weird. Basically, it's about a guy who has a super power nose that allows him to speak to the children born during the midnight hour of the day India became independent. And he can smell people's thoughts and emotions. And sometimes the narrator forgets who he is. It was so weird that the book's complete disregard for punctuation didn't bug me as much as it should have. I can't even begin to imagine what it must have been like to edit this book.

Most thought provoking: The Perks of Being a Wallflower, by Stephen Chbosky. More than anything, this book made me really glad that I'm not a teenager anymore. It also strengthened my resolve to teach my future children right from wrong so that they will have a reason to say no when I'm not there to coax them.

Book I was most pleasantly surprised by: Mockingjay, by Suzanne Collins. The first time I read this book I was livid for two days. If it wasn't part of a trilogy that I really liked, and if I had had a fireplace at the time, I would have burned it like I did The Casual Vacancy. I never intended to read it again, but after seeing Catching Fire in theaters I had Hunger Games stuck on my brain (I even braided my hair like Katniss's for a few days), so I reluctantly decided to give the books another chance. And I'm so glad I did, because my opinion of this book is pretty much the opposite from my first impression of it. It's still a difficult and heart-wrenching book to read, but when I finished it at 2:00 a.m. the day after Thanksgiving I was immensely satisfied and at peace. I wasn't so blinded by my own expectations and anger to completely miss the point of the whole book this time.

I didn't enjoy the withdrawals afterward though. I think it might have been worse than Harry Potter Withdrawals.

Book I was most disappointed in: Crossed, by Ally Condie. I waited a long time to read the Matched trilogy. I had heard from a lot of trusted sources that it was really good, so I was looking forward to reading it. I finally got my hands on Matched—and finished the book feeling underwhelmed. I hoped that book 2, Crossed, would give me something that I hadn't already seen in The Giver, Hunger Games, or Twilight, but, again, I was disappointed. Not to mention it suffered severely from dull middle-of-the-series syndrome.

Book I am most glad I abandoned: The Octopus, by Frank Norris. I was assigned to read this book the week I had to turn in 55 pages of writing for school. The discussion board thread was optional, but I gave the book a shot anyway. It didn't take me long to conclude that this is the most boring book ever written, so I felt absolutely no guilt in abandoning it. Don't ask me what it is about, because my brain discards dull writing almost instantaneously for my own protection.

Book that fueled my hope for humanity: Wonder, by R.J. Palacio. This is a story about a boy with severe facial deformities who goes from being made fun of and even feared, to being the cool kid everyone wants to be friends with. It was endearing and inspiring without being over the top, and I think everyone will relate to at least one of the characters.

Book I would like to see as a movie: The Rebels of Cordovia, by Linda Weaver Clarke. Sometimes, I get irrationally angry when I read books that are poorly written. Especially when the books have pretty covers and intriguing storylines. I feel betrayed when the writing robs me of what I thought was going to be a delightful reading experience. That's why I want to see this book as a movie. There's a good story buried deep down, but it would be so much more enjoyable to watch on screen, without the distraction of bad writing.  

Book I wouldn't mind living in: Anne of Green Gables, by L.M. Montgomery. No other setting can compare to Green Gables, not even Hogwarts (though I feel like a heretic for saying that). It has everything I want: beautiful scenery, adequate distance from civilization, wonderful people, and lots of romantic spots that feed the imagination and soothe the soul. I think my heart will always long for a place like Green Gables.  

Book I would not want to live in: Game of Thrones, by George R.R. Martin. Women in this world basically exist to be raped and told what to do, not to mention it's against the laws of nature to be happy regardless of your gender or social status, so—no thank you. 

Favorite character: Peeta Mellark, from Catching Fire. One of the best things about the Hunger Games trilogy is all the fabulous characters. Collins is so good at creating flawed but lovable characters. So I'm kind of surprised that I'm giving Peeta this award, the least flawed character in the trilogy—some would say he is too perfect. Plus, I've always had a weakness for the tall, manly, handsome, jock-type guys like Gale. Of all the characters, Gale should be my favorite, right?

Nope. Not this time. I think Peeta may have charmed me over to his team. He has people skills that I only wish I had, he always knows what to say, he's strong, and he's artistic. Attractiveness aside, he's just a genuinely good person, and he loves Katniss unconditionally (yeah, I'm a little bit jealous). This is one reason why Mockingjay is so hard to read—I miss the old Peeta so much that the spot in my heart reserved for him breaks into 47 sad pieces. Even now, I just want to give him a hug. And I'm not a hugging person.

Least favorite character: Mary from The Grass is Singing, by Doris Lessing. I've read about murderers, rapists, sociopaths, and child abandoners this year. But Mary wins the Least Favorite Character of the Year Award because she is lazy and does nothing but whine. She gets married because that's what girls do, and then does absolutely nothing after that. Just sits there in the dark, refusing to use her skills to fight off poverty and hunger. And then she has the gall to complain about her wretched life. No, I have absolutely no sympathy for Mary.

Most relatable character: Miri, from Palace of Stone by Shannon Hale. One reason Shannon Hale's book speak to me so much is that I can connect with many of her characters on a deeply personal level. Miri is smart, independent, and eventually finds a balance between her love of home and the mountains and her thirst for ambition.

Crush: Gilbert, from Anne of the Island by L.M. Montgomery. This should surprise no one. He's handsome, charming, smart, mischievous, not intimidated by strong women, and fits this description: "I wouldn't marry a truly wicked man, but I think I'd like it if he could be wicked, but wouldn't." That's my perfect man, right there.

And, because all good book awards have a Top # List of some sort, here are my Top 10 Books Read During 2013. I spent a ridiculously long time thinking about this list, and each title comes with my highest recommendation.

      10. Wonder, by R.J. Palacio
       9. Hero of Ages, by Brandon Sanderson
       8. Palace of Stone, by Shannon Hale
       7. The Fault in Our Stars, by John Green
       6. The Shoemaker's Wife, by Adriana Trigiani
       5. A Memory of Light, by Robert Jordan/Brandon Sanderson
       4. Son, by Lois Lowry
       3. Mistborn, by Brandon Sanderson
       2. Anne of Green Gables, by L.M. Montgomery
       1. The Hunger Games trilogy, by Suzanne Collins

And then there are all the other books I read, which may not have been distinctive enough to be awarded in one of my special categories but are still worth mentioning. If you're interested, here is the complete list of books I read during 2013 (click here to read my reviews), in chronological order:

1. No Unhallowed Hand (W&G #7), by Gerald N. Lund
2. Metamorphosis, by Franz Kafka
3. Death in Venice, by Thomas Mann
4. A Memory of Light (WoT #14), by Robert Jordan/Brandon Sanderson
5. The Stranger, by Albert Camus
6. Son, by Lois Lowry
7. The Grass Is Singing, by Doris Lessing
8. Twilight, by Stephenie Meyer
9. Wide Sargasso Sea, by Jean Rhys
10. So Great a Cause (W&G #8), by Gerald N. Lund
11. The Perks of Being a Wallflower, by Stephen Chbosky
12. Love in the Time of Cholera, by Gabriel Garcia Marquez
13. The Fairest Beauty, by Melanie Dickerson
14. Austenland, by Shannon Hale
15. Palace of Stone, by Shannon Hale
16. Wonder, by R.J. Palacio
17. Quiet: The Power of Introverts in a World that Can't Stop Talking, by Susan Cain
18. The Scene Book: A Primer for the Fiction Writer, by Sandra Scofield
19. All Is Well (W&G #9), by Gerald N. Lund
20. Matched, by Ally Condie
21. Midnight's Children, by Salman Rushdie
22. Crossed, by Ally Condie
23. Reached, by Ally Condie
24. The Fault in Our Stars, by John Green
25. Anne of Green Gables, by L.M. Montgomery
26. Anne of Avonlea, by L.M. Montgomery
27. Drawing on the Power of Resonance in Writing, by David Farland
28. Midnight in Austenland, by Shannon Hale
29. Swerve: How the World Became Modern, by Stephen Greenblatt
30. Anne of the Island, by L.M. Montgomery
31. Game of Thrones (ASoIaF #1), by George R.R. Martin
32. Peter Pan, by J.M. Barrie
33. Harry Potter's Bookshelf: The Great Books Behind the Hogwarts Adventures, by John Granger
34. The Time Traveler's Wife, by Audrey Niffenegger
35. The Truth of the Matter: Art and Craft in Creative Nonfiction, by Dinty W. Moore
36. A Way Back to You, Emily Gray Clawson
37. Equal Rites (Discworld #3), by Terry Pratchett
38. The Rover, by Aphra Behn
39. The Beggar's Opera, by John Gay
40. The Blue Sword, by Robin McKinley
41. A Tale of Two Cities, by Charles Dickens
42. The Book of Psychological Truths: A Psychiatrist's Guide to Really Good Thinking for Really Great Living, by R. Duncan Wallace
43. Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone, by J.K. Rowling
44. Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets, by J.K. Rowling
45. Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban, by J.K. Rowling
46. Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire, by J.K. Rowling
47. Mary Barton, by Elizabeth Gaskell
48. Description and Setting, by Ron Rozelle
49. Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix, by J.K. Rowling
50. Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince, by J.K. Rowling
51. Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows, by J.K. Rowling
52. The Tales of Beedle the Bard, translated by Hermione Granger-Weasley
53. The Rebels of Cordovia, by Linda Weaver Clarke
54. Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them, by Newt Scamander
55. A Clash of Kings (ASoIaF #2), by George R.R. Martin
56. A Beast in the Jungle, by Henry James
57. Anne of Windy Poplars, by L.M. Montgomery
58. Mistborn (Mistborn #1), by Brandon Sanderson
59. Adventures of Huckleberry Finn, by Mark Twain
60. How the Other Half Lives: Studies among the Tenements of New York, by Jacob Riis
61. Quotidiana, by Patrick Madden
62. Maggie: A Girl of the Streets, by Stephen Crane
63. The One-Eyed Man, by L.E. Modesitt Jr.
64. The Well of Ascension (Mistborn #2), by Brandon Sanderson
65. The Call of the Wild, by Jack London
66. The Boys of My Youth, by Jo Ann Beard
67. The Game, by Jack London
68. The Awakening, by Kate Chopin
69. Hyperbole and a Half: Unfortunate Situations, Flawed Coping Mechanisms, Mayhem, and Other Things That Happened, by Allie Brosh
70. Sister Carrie, by Theodore Dreiser
71. The Hero of Ages (Mistborn #3), by Brandon Sanderson
72. Holidays on Ice, by David Sedaris
73. The Hunger Games, by Suzanne Collins
74. Catching Fire, by Suzanne Collins
75. Mockingjay, by Suzanne Collins
76. The Alloy of Law, by Brandon Sanderson
77. The Christmas Box, by Richard Paul Evans
78. The Rose Metal Press Field Guide to Writing Flash Nonfiction, by Dinty W. Moore
79. The Shoemaker's Wife, by Adriana Trigiani
80. Nightingale, by David Farland
81. Revolution, by Jennifer Donnelley

Previous years:
2012

Why I like being an adult

As a kid, I had an adult-esque attitude about the passage of time; I knew my childhood wouldn't last forever, and I was determined to make the most of it while I could.

This meant that I wasn't as excited about my milestone birthdays as my peers were (with the exception of 12. I was more than ready to graduate from primary). I dreaded my 16th birthday because I wasn't ready to date yet. I loved imagining perfect dates in my little dream world, but in reality I just wanted to stay home on date nights and watch my favorite movies.

I wasn't that excited for my 18th birthday, either, because that meant entering the official ranks of adulthood. (If only I had known then what I know now--real adults don't consider 18-year-olds real adults.) I enjoyed having the legal right to sign my own permission forms my entire senior year of high school, but mostly I mourned what I could never have back.

Twenty-one wasn't a whole lot better. I had always told myself that if I was still single at that age, I would go on a mission. But I didn't want to serve a mission, and I wasn't anywhere near ready for marriage. Two things you don't hear a lot at BYU.

But by the time I hit my next sort-of-milestone birthday, 25, things were different. I had had enough life experience to feel like I had some control over the little things in life. I knew what to do when I had car problems. I sort of knew how health insurance worked. I was comfortable going to places on my own. I could occasionally splurge on a new book, shirt, or bacon cheeseburger without having to ask permission or explain my actions to anyone.

The wonder of childhood was gone, but it came with some pretty good trade-offs. Instead of worrying about what others thought of me, I got to know and like the person I am. The hermit hole I had envisioned spending my career-adult life in became a world unimpeded by ten-foot-thick steel walls of uncertainty and fear. A laid-back nature replaced my anxiety-filled one. "I can't" made way for "What's stopping me?"

In some ways, adulthood is still a let-down. Like when you realize it's actually kind of nice to have people telling you what to do. And when you realize that you spend more time standing in line at Walmart or the at driver's license place or at traffic lights than you do having parties and staying up past midnight.

But in other ways, it sets you free. That comforting yet smothering blanket of childhood and adolescence isn't there to shield you from the world while trapping you with so many unknowns. Life doesn't make a lot more sense from the adult perspective, but at least you are better equipped to handle it.

My 2013 in review, according to Facebook

Part of my job as a copywriter is to read industry news every morning. Around this time of year, every website, blog, and organization does a "Recap of This Year" or a "Predictions for Next Year" post.

I don't read those posts anymore. 

I did, however, entertain the idea of writing my own "Recap of 2013" post. After all, people do it all the time when they send out Christmas cards. 

But I couldn't settle on a specific goal for this post: should I be funny? insightful? Should I make a list, or go for the essay format?

So many options, so many different ways I could talk about myself.

Then I saw that Facebook had compiled my top 20 moments of 2013 for me, and I immediately knew how this post would go.

So here it is: My top 2013 moments, according to Facebook.

#1. I started 2013 on sure footing.

#2. I started school without any distractions.

#3. The January blues hit and I started to miss my sisters.

#4. Unsurprisingly, Kimberly was feeling the same way. Have I mentioned that we have the same brain?

#5. A month and a half into the new year, I enthusiastically threw myself into my studies.

#6. Then I shrunk myself.

#7. I suffered temporary, but severe, memory loss.

#8. Since family relations are important, I made sure to keep those lines of communication open so we can always talk about the important stuff.

#9. I remembered my parents' anniversary.

#10. I marveled at American culture.

#11. I happily welcomed summer.

#12. I defended my major and three people supported me.

#13. I looked out for my own safety.

#14. I became a master at managing my down time.

#15. I shared my testimony with my friends.

#16. I celebrated the most important holiday of the year with Harry Potter and chocolate.

#17. J.K. Rowling gave me an early birthday present.

#18. I got a very specific number of happy birthdays on my unlucky birthday. Coincidence? I think not!

#19. I dressed up for Halloween.

#20. I got a last-minute invite to wake up early on a Saturday morning.