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For fun, and because I’ve been spending a lot of time lately thinking about all the places I’ve been these last few years.

1. “Into the Airwaves,” by Jack’s Mannequin. Makes me think of sitting on the floor in my first apartment watching someone try to fix my computer. I’ve always been drawn to the evocative quality of his first album. One song on it has inspired two (totally different) short stories, though at least for the moment, this one brings back the strongest memory—though I’m not entirely convinced the memory is real the same way it is in my head.

2. “All These Things that I’ve Done,” by The Killers. I love this song, and this song brings back lots of small happy moments (more impressions really), but it also brings back one very sad one. My second party while I was in Spokane, I helped pick a song, then turned down an invitation, and had one hell of a bad night.

3. Wicked, by Gregory Maguire. I’ve read this book a few times, and I loved it. In graduate school, however, in front of the professor I most respected and wanted to impress, I named this as the best book in the past twenty years—not because I thought it was a great answer, but because it was the only work of literary quality I’d read from the past twenty years. Since then, I’ve made a real effort to keep up with modern literature. I’m rereading this book now, and I’m hoping that it’s sparkle doesn’t dim for me, but so far it’s only good, not great.

4. Cold days, when the heating vents turn on in the morning. Our dog Jack used to love when the vents came on, and he’d run over and curl up over top of the vent. That in turn always reminded me of when I was a little girl and would do the same thing while my dad got my breakfast (Cheerios with brown sugar) ready for me.

5. Morrill Hall. I once spent a fall afternoon wandering around campus with a camera and a friend, and he took some cool pictures of me on the steps of Morrill Hall. Art, beauty, friendship—and now I hear they’re going to tear the building down.

6. Girls to the Rescue, by Bruce Lansky. I’m not even sure I still own a copy of this book of fairy tales (all of which have the females as heroines rather than damsels in distress), but I still think of it from time to time—and whenever I hear the word persnickety. I took this book to an MSU football game once, and it poured, and I tucked myself completely under my poncho and ate a bag on M&Ms while I read this book.

7. My senior year varsity soccer sweatshirt. And it’s not for the reasons you might think. I left this sweatshirt at the home of this guy I liked (though to this day I can’t tell you what I saw in him beyond someone else to help keep me as down on myself as possible), and after I finally broke away from his abusive attitude, I gave up on ever getting it back. And then one day it was left at my work for me. Then, a few months later, a friend of mine mentioned this guy in the context of having seen my ex-boyfriend, and I flipped out. I still can’t look at the sweatshirt, and I swear it still smells a bit like that house, but I’ve hidden it away against the day that it brings the good memories of soccer success again.

8. Long stretches of highway vanishing into the horizon. While I was in Spokane, feeling so very alone, I used to think that if I only had the guts, I could take the highway all the way home.

I sit here on New Year’s Eve, listening to music from ten years ago and debating whether or not I should wear my nice black shoes to my family’s Christmas today. We usually have the Hemond Christmas between Christmas and New Years, but this feels so late. I’ve already moved past the holidays, preparing myself for a new year. There are only a few things I have left to do before the clock strikes midnight tonight, and I’m ready to put this year to bed.

It’s been a year of extremes. We had cancer, back surgery, and Bell’s Palsy just in my immediate family this year. Our dog died. I spent half the year with insomnia so extreme it wasn’t uncommon for me to miss an entire night’s sleep. But I also got a new job at the university, published my second piece of writing, and rejoined the halls of literary journal editing. I started coaching a soccer team of eleven-year-old girls. My sister graduated.

But there are holes, too, in my experience, as there always are: friends who went unseen yet again, plans that fell apart or that never fully formed, possibilities left behind, choices made that so fully exclude others. Things left undone, and there aren’t enough hours left now.

I’m not big on making resolutions; I’ve never understood why the turn of the calendar should be the prompt, but here I am today, using the same coming occurrence to look back, to plan forward.

2012 will be many things. I will complete my first year with Michigan State University. I will turn twenty-eight. I will attend my ten-year high school reunion. And there are other things that I hope for: to become published (fiction this time), to finally move into my own apartment, to be kept on at MSU with a full teaching load, to travel back to France and learn to speak the language well enough to not need English while I’m there.

And now I’m listening to What Sarah Said, and it all feels so appropriate.

Perhaps it’s the weather, or the holidays, or genetics, or one of a thousand other things, but I always get a bit melancholy at this time of year. Reflection can do that I think, and for me, planning can, too. If I did set a resolution this year it might be to become a better planner. Not better at making plans, but better at letting them go, at making new ones, at thinking on my feet when things take a turn.

It’s hard being back in my hometown now, feeling as if I’ve changed so much and yet so much around me is the same. I’d have never guessed, five or ten years ago, that I would be someone uncomfortable with comfort. I remember sitting in the car with a boyfriend once, maybe nine years ago, talking about that awful John Mayer song and debating comfort. But even then I said I wanted something more. It’s funny how even in change, some things stay the same, simply maturing, blossoming.

Now I leave, to go spend a few more hours inside this year. I will try to finish some of those things I’ve left undone: I will deliver my final Christmas gift, I will try to finish reading another book (Rivethead), I will read more story submissions. I will think on all the things I haven’t done: phone calls I haven’t made, things I haven’t said, stories I haven’t finished writing. So much, so much unfinished. Some, I will do in 2012, some I will try to push into the back corner of my closet and forget about, to be packed in boxes and taken with me wherever I go, until I finally forget, or find the courage to do.

May 2012 be a year of many blessings for you. May the stumbling blocks be ones you can climb over, teaching you important lessons as you do so. May there be smiles and laughter. And may we all find the strength to do those difficult things, or to let them go. Happy New Year, everyone.

A few random things that have been knocking around in my head lately.

1. Where are all the giving trees? One of my Day Zero goals has been to donate off a giving tree, but the one that’s usually at the mall was not set up this year. It’s less than two weeks to Christmas, and my Day Zero challenge finishes next November, so I think I’m going to have to mark this goal up as a failure.

2. As of yesterday, I have added another business to the list of places I try my best to not do business with. Dominoes, Amazon, and now Lowes, though I’m sure there are others that I just can’t think of right now. This holiday season, while I am buying two gifts from Amazon (couldn’t find elsewhere), I am still doing most of my shopping at small or locally owned businesses. Some days it seems like I’m single-handedly trying to keep Schuler Books and Music in business.

3. I don’t have a problem with being told “Merry Christmas,” but I do have a problem with the assumption that it doesn’t bother some people. Even though I’m not religious (I think some of my family still don’t know this, but seeing how I haven’t said Grace or gone to church in years, I’m hoping this isn’t a bombshell), I was raised in the Christian tradition and am therefore in the majority in this country. I can only imagine, therefore, that for some people, constantly having your religion overlooked and forgotten is frustrating and painful.

3.1. I was thinking the other day that I’m much more interested in the stories that surround Chanukah than I am in those surrounding Christmas. I have theories as to why I feel this way, but I think I’ll leave those unsaid. When I mentioned these thoughts to my dad yesterday, he arched his eyebrows and said, “Are you sure you want to write that?”

4. Gift giving is hard. I’m realizing, as I get older, that a lot of the gift buying I did as a kid/teenager was probably crap. I think I bought a lot of gifts that cluttered people’s houses and that they didn’t want. These days I try really hard to get people things they will like, appreciate, and use, and I’ve noticed that gift giving has gotten increasingly difficult.

5. A sad thing about the holiday season is how good television shows stop airing new episodes. To make room, I can only assume, for all those holiday specials. The next episode of Once Upon a Time isn’t until January!

6. My dog Molly apparently hates the Christmas—or at least Santa Claus. She ate a Santa hat today. And she did not like the reindeer ears I put on her while we decorated our tree. As an aside, my cats also refuse to wear hats.

I’m departing from the usual in this blog, and especially the tone of my most recent post (though perhaps recent isn’t the best word) to bring you something silly and fun. Silly and fun? you ask. Why yes, I am capable. I know it might be a surprise. So without further ado, here are ten things I would do if there were one, maybe two more hours in the day.

1. Exercise more: I’m trying to be more active, to do at least one physical thing each day. Mostly because I miss the way certain parts of my body used to look, no small bit because it’s rather embarrassing when I’m winded after two flights of stairs (and I NEVER take the elevator), but also because I spend way too much time sitting each day. With more time in each day I would go on more bike rides, go on more walks with my dogs, finally start an ab program that I stayed faithful to.

2. Learn more: It’s no secret right now that I’m learning French (I try to spend at least 15 minutes a day on it), but less well-known is the fact that I have a stack of old textbooks that I have every intention of reading. Sitting on my shelf right now I have books on chemistry, organic chemistry, biology, linguistics, feminist theory, and literature. And yeah, when I do find the time to pull one of those out, I do the exercises.

3. Bake more: I love to bake, especially bread. And not with a bread machine either. No, you’ve got to get your hands in there. It’s the physical connection, the smell—the absolutely yummy food you get to eat. I can’t even think of the last thing I baked, though. Maybe those ginger molasses cookies at Christmas?

4. Play more video games: I really try to make an effort to not spend too much time in front of the television—TV doesn’t interest me all that much unless it’s the Food Network—but I do have a soft spot for certain video games. But right now I do limit my time rather severely. Plus—and this has nothing to do with how much time there is or isn’t in the day—my Xbox is broken right now.

5. Sleep more: I like to sleep, I do. But I also am not a fan of sleeping in until 11. I like to be up by 9:30 at the latest, but when I stay up reading until 4 a.m. some nights, I end up really tired the next day. I really do need my full eight hours.

6. Be more social: Sometimes I think my friends must think I don’t want to hang out with them, because I’m very good at being busy when they call. With more time I could better show them that, yes, I care.

7. Straighten my hair more: Okay, I know this one sounds silly, but I stopped straightening my hair regularly about the time I started graduate school. There were just other things that needed to be done—it felt silly to spend half an hour with a straightening iron in front of the bathroom mirror. But—call me vain—I really do love having straight hair.

8. Spend more time on forgotten or new hobbies: I’m really, really good at filling my time. And there are so many things in life I wish I could try, could be good at. Take my guitar playing. It was a hobby for a few years, but now I hardly ever touch it. And I’d really like to finish that one cross stitch piece I started four or so years ago. And I’d really like to learn more about history. And I wish I knew how to use Flash. I wish I could identify the birds that come to our bird feeder without looking in the book. There’s so much knowledge out there, and I really do want it pretty much all of it.

9. Read more: I have so many books that I want to read, and yet I don’t often seem to have the time to really dive in to books. Oh, I read pretty much daily, and I do spend some nights reading when I should be sleeping (see number 5), but I wish I had time enough that I am able to read faster than I buy books.

10. Write more: Too much lately this has been the first thing falling off my plate. I’ve got work, I want to write a book review, I try to stay networked, I’ve got errands to run, I’ve got to plan for that community ed class I want to teach in the fall… I’ve got to do this, I’ve got to do that. My family/friends want to spend time with me. The dog is lonely. I’ve got another darn migraine. And somehow, too much of my writing is being done in my head. Despite being number 10, this is the number one reason I’d like more time. Though I do worry that even with all the time in the world, I’d still find reasons (numbers 1-9 for starters) to put off writing.

But I’m working on it. I promise.

Lately, I’ve been considering backing out of a writing commitment I have. I’m feeling threatened, taunted, and ridiculed in a space that should be safe. I don’t want to give up the exposure or the experience I’m getting, but I’m also getting tired of the mini panic attacks I’m starting to get with each new instance. What’s worse is that I know most outsiders probably won’t see what I see and will be of the opinion that I’m making a big deal out of nothing. In some ways, I can’t disagree with that. Going by the actual textual evidence from the last few weeks, there isn’t much there, but once you add in the weight of my experience, the history, it grows. And as it’s not a history I’m willing to talk about to the greater Internet, I will continue to look like a drama queen.

But there are always some things that can be said, some things that can be done. In the last few years I’ve realized I do have a voice, one that matters. But the best option isn’t to always say what’s on your mind. Sometimes speaking only escalates things. And besides, my mom taught me that often, in these situations, the bigger person is the one who lets it go, who walks away.

The problem comes up, though, when part of the original problem was in having your voice silenced. When someone starts to tell you what and how to think, walking away silently can send the message that you give in, that the other person wins. That there’s even a game that can be won, in some way. It’s a balance that’s almost always on my mind, going back to the first time when I realized that I didn’t deserve to be treated this way. I don’t want to let others silence me, but I don’t want the situation to be any worse. Maybe there’s not a correct balance, or maybe the answer is one I don’t want to hear, but I’m wondering, and testing, and trying to find something that works. Worst case scenario, I excuse myself from this writing gig and move on with my life, finally free from this person. But still, I don’t like the idea of giving up something I enjoy, something that helps me, because of the presence of someone else.

In just a few short hours, my dog Jack will have been dead for a week. I was in Florida when my parents went to take him outside first thing Sunday morning and found him dead in his cage. There’s no official word yet, but the general consensus is that he died from a blood clot—a complication from the immune mediated hemolytic anemia he’d been suffering from the past two to three weeks. I cried on and off for two days, and even now, a week later, certain things still push me toward depression. We’ve lost animals before (I’ve never had someone close to me die), but none of those deaths ever struck me with quite so much force.

And yet, even while dealing with this (and a few other family medical issues that will not be discussed online), things keep happening to me that are, well, good.

My second book review for The Collagist was accepted, and this time it seems that I wrote a stronger first draft, which means I’m demonstrating what I’m learning. The revisions for a short story I’ve been working on are going well. I had a lovely time in Florida. And, finally, just tonight I found out that PANK has accepted a guest post I wrote for their blog.

The trouble, though, is that if I let myself dwell on either the good or the bad, I end up feeling crappy. Life goes on, yes, but I can’t help feeling that our dog, Jack, who was so full of love, deserves more of a reaction. Maybe if he were a person I could apply the logic that he’d want me to carry on, to let go, but I’m finding that I just can’t in this situation. And yet the world, minus the weather, seems to be throwing things at me for which I should be happy and grateful. Balance, we call it. Or, perhaps we should call it: Life.

I’ve been back from Europe for almost three weeks now and I’ve finally decided to break my blogging hiatus. Mostly I’ve just been taking it easy here—and looking for jobs of course. My mom had knee surgery a few days before I got home, so I’ve been taking care of her as well.

In the meantime, I’ve completed quite a few of my Day Zero goals in the last month and I thought it was time for an update. Here are a few of the random ones I’ve gone through; I’ll do a post later on the Europe-related ones. Those will have more pictures.

Me and the other MFAers before graduation

1. Get my MFA!

I successfully defended my thesis and got my diploma. I am now a master. I can’t believe it’s over, and I already miss it. I am, however, taking a lengthy break from my writing, although I’m starting to get that itch back. I want to return to it with fervor, not exhaustion. I’ve got work to do on my novel, of course, but I also want to get back to some short story writing. And editing. In some ways, I miss my work with Willow Springs more than anything else.

37. Get ten massages

I started getting massages in October, and they’ve done so much to help with my headaches—more than any medicine I’ve ever taken. I got my tenth one not too long before graduation, but, unfortunately, I can’t afford any more since I don’t have a job. Consequently, the headaches are back as bad as ever. Can’t wait until I’m gainfully employed again.

73. Learn my blood type

My mom came to the rescue on this one. I am B+, as is my sister. My parents are AB+ and O+. I feel like I should have known this a long time ago.

84. Shoot under par at a putt putt course

I did this only a few days ago at the Funtyme in Okemos (it’s practically walking distance from my house). After a rocky start I managed to finish one under par. I’ve never done this before in my life. It was very exciting, made more so by the fact that I beat my putt putt partner by nine strokes (he’ll rename nameless for his pride). Of course, he and his partner did later that evening destroy me and my partner 30-8 in three games of Euchre.

I’ll be out of the country for the next two weeks, so I won’t be posting regularly. I’ll try for the occasional look-what-I-did-today post, but don’t count on it. Happy end-of-July everyone!

Kathryn

I leave Spokane tomorrow, and though I have a party to go to tonight for my program, I’ve already said goodbye to quite a few people I would like to consider friends. They are people that I hope to stay in contact with, people I’d love to come and visit, but I know the base of friendship we have is weak, due to such a short period of time we’ve known each other.

I went to the mall this morning, prior to the World Cup game (which is TIED due to the craziest fluke goal I’ve ever seen at this stage), and as I was walking around, I found myself thinking about what would happen if my life were a movie. It would have happened like this: I would have been walking around, frustrated because I couldn’t find what I wanted, and when I turned around (because that’s always how it happens), I would have found myself face-to-face with one of these people (probably a male, partly because I prefer men to women, but mostly because this is a heteronormative society), and we would have had an intense bonding moment over coffee (even though I don’t drink coffee).

Sometimes it’s depressing that live isn’t more like the movies.

But then that brought me back to writing. In a book (a book of literary fiction), this would have happened instead: I’d have finished my shopping, buying sub-par gifts, not run into anyone I know, and then I’d have gone home. This is what actually happened.

Because in writing, I think it’s important that we put pressure on our characters, and pressure often means not giving them what they want. Maybe instead of running into someone I’d like to see, or not seeing anyone, the literary fiction version of me would run into someone she didn’t like, someone who made her uncomfortable or angry. Because these are the moments when we see someone’s vulnerability, and that’s more interesting than watching someone who gets what she wants.

Well, no one can say it hasn’t been a hectic week. On a personal level, we put down my cat, I had my last day of work, defended my thesis, said goodbye to one of my best friends here, done tons of packing, and tomorrow I’ll graduate. Then, I get on Twitter this morning to find out that college sports decided to explode today. Izzo is considering taking the job in Cleveland, USC is getting reprimanded the way they should have been years ago, and The Big 12 is close to imploding. Of course, the Izzo story is the most near and dear to my heart, and I’ve been following it all day, but everything still seems to be rumor and conjecture at this point. Then, my parents were supposed to get here at 3:30 (you may notice I’m writing this at 5:30), but their flight was delayed, resulting in a missed connection and a seven-hour delay. So now they’re hanging out in Minnesota while I obsessively check the radar because, to top it all off, we’re supposed to have thunderstorms on and off all evening. Yippee!

I hope all of my loyal blog readers (all six or you or so, heh) are having less crazy weeks!