Tag: 100 things

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Miscellany

100 things that made my year in 2022

1. Endless amounts of baby spit up. Spot cleaning her clothes, our clothes, the couch, and every pillow we own. Running laundry and then more laundry.

2. Taking delight in simple joys like small-batch jam and cordials.

3. Courtney Martin’s essay about contracting covid and reflecting on what the pandemic has done to the stories we tell ourselves about others.

4. Night sweats.

5. Watching local news at 7 am when taking the early morning shift with the baby. Claiming favorite meteorologists and trying to shake off the jingles from local commercials.

6. Taking anti-racist action by moving half of our savings from a big corporate bank to Hope Credit Union as transformational investors.

7. Oliver Burkeman’s Four Thousand Weeks: Time Management for Mortals.

8. Going to pelvic floor physical therapy sessions and learning more about the structure and function of one of the body’s most essential muscle groups. Sarah Stoller on reconnecting with her postpartum body through weight lifting. Working out with Ashley Nowe.

9. Feeling very confused about how to show up in public.

10. PCR tests and booster shots. Lots of first-year vaccines. Still masking and staying home as much of the world moved on from the pandemic.

11. Unlearning the many stealthy, relentless ways that diet culture has embedded itself in my beliefs and habits. Listening to Maintenance Phase, reading Virginia Sole-Smith, and embracing food as nourishment, comfort and fuel.

12. Making lists to attempt to order the chaos of life as a new mother.

13. Rethinking my image of work.

14. Finding solidarity and solace in Erin Gloria Ryan’s newsletter Just Enjoy It While You Can.

15. Good TV at all hours of the day and night. The Sex Lives of College Girls. The Letdown. The Bear. Better Things. Rap Sh!t. Ramy. The White Lotus. Reservation Dogs. Hacks. Never Have I Ever.

16. Reading while breastfeeding and fuming about this country’s systemic failures to provide care infrastructure.

17. Doubling down on my caffeine consumption.

18. Jessi Klein’s pitch-perfect essay on motherhood as the hero’s journey.

19. Getting a second wind after putting the baby to sleep. Watching a ton of TV. Talking it out. Making plans. Making out. Writing newsletters.

20. Quiet walks on the Oregon coast. Dipping Maeve’s pacifier in the ocean to give her a first taste of sea water. Introducing her to sea anemones. Letting her eat sand.

21. Learning to bake a cake and eat it, too.

22. Gobbling down a bunch of books about art, identity, and motherhood. The Gardener and the Carpenter. The School for Good Mothers. Essential Labor. Nightbitch. Learning in Public. Wildcat. Sally Mann’s memoir Hold Still.

23. Thinking about non-linear career growth and evolution, thanks to Jenni Gritters. Joining The Writers’ Co-op Patreon community to dig deeper into strategy for my own business. Embracing the idea of the career river.

24. Spending a long weekend with my college girlfriends, sharing our hobbies and secrets and fears and messy selves with each other, as we’ve done now for 13 years, leaving one another feeling better than when we came together.

25. Writing a monthly newsletter and realizing along the way that we were creating a sort of digital baby book to mark our daughter’s growth and emerging personality. Receiving sweet replies from friends and family near and far.

26. Spiraling out in my journal.

27. Embracing the bioregion in my backyard.

28. Eric Carle books.

29. Hikes with Maeve in the front pack. Parents greeting her at the arboretum and in Marshall Park. Stroller walks in the neighborhood. Holding her hands as she toddles down the block and drops to her knees to eat leaves and moss.

30. Identifying and indulging in vacation foods, as inspired by Kathryn Jezer-Morton. For us, it’s cherry Cokes and microwave popcorn.

31. Empanadas and people-watching at the Portland Mercado in late spring. The baby hanging out in the car seat, taking it all in.

32. Playing chase and peek-a-boo with Maeve. Teaching her how to clap, wave and gesture that she’s “so big!”

33. Taking more iPhone videos. Rachel Cusk on taking photos of our children.

34. Breastfeeding in the backseat, on park benches, in exam rooms at doctor’s offices, in bed, on the couch, on a blanket, on a log.

35. Hiking at Oxbow Regional Park and seeing deer, salmonberries, and fairy slipper orchards. Changing Maeve on a bench before realizing there was a changing table around the corner. Eating lunch on the picnic tables at Sugarpine.

36. Growing my freelance business from two to seven clients. Juggling work, business strategy, and the endless daily responsibilities of caring for an infant.

37. Postpartum hair loss. Wearing my hair in a bun more than ever before to try to get ahead of my baby’s grabby little fingers. Finding loose hairs all over the house.

38. Doing what I love in front of my daughter, even when it feels like she’s too young to take it all in. Baking for fun. Journaling in the mornings. Dancing to music. Playing the ukulele poorly. Reading for breadth and depth. Talking it out. Getting outside.

39. Feeling Very Adult when writing notes for the babysitter.

40. Sleep training. Putting on noise-canceling headphones when my nerves were frayed by the process. In the end, finding deep comfort and some wonder in the knowledge that our daughter is learning to care for herself.

41. Making a snowperson on the back deck after a mid-April snowstorm.

42. Playing with a Pentel brush pen.

43. Maeve’s rosy cheeks after a bath.

44. Falling asleep to the sound of a hard rain.

45. Making a regular habit of 8:00 Sunday mass, since we’re up already. Getting donuts after church on the first weekend of the month. Fr. Mike telling us that our daughter has “vacuum-cleaner eyes — they suck you right in.”

46. Maeve’s baptism in May by our dear friend Lucas. Celebrating with Missouri and Oregon family. Tacos and margaritas. Kid-friendly rosaries and toys that recite prayers.

47. Accidentally buying Ryan a birthday card that was meant to be from (or about) a pet dog.

48. Velcro swaddles. Sleep sacks. White noise machines. Watching the video monitor. Taking shifts in the early weeks to get more consecutive sleep. Suffering through the four-month sleep regression. The time when Maeve was a couple of days old and Ryan swaddled her in a confusing blanket with snaps that we later realized was a car seat cover. Maeve napping in my grandma’s coat closet and my parents’ walk-in closet.

49. Breastfeeding in the middle of the night with a red lightbulb in the floor lamp.

50. Eating so much food. Bedtime snacks. Big meals. Getting up in the middle of the night for a string cheese or a protein bar when I was too hungry to sleep.

51. Moving during July, again. Sweating and fretting and putting my daughter in a moving box to entertain her. Learning that our dishwasher has a top utensil drawer.

52. Making terrible line drawings in an attempt to capture ordinary moments in our house.

53. Reflecting on the gifts that my Grandpa Walt gave me and everyone who knew him.

54. Baths with Maeve.

55. Getting away for a weekend and enjoying some time on the Washington side of the Columbia Gorge. Hiking in the rain. Taking Maeve to the lodge dining room in her car seat. Family naps on the big hotel bed. Having the pool all to ourselves. Splurging on room service breakfast.

56. Movies that made me think. Roadrunner. Good Luck to You, Leo Grande. Everything Everywhere All At Once.

57. Being stuck under a sleeping baby and trying to savor the moment. Maeve turning to me or Ryan for comfort and sucking her thumb while laying her head on our closest body part. Her using our bodies as climbing towers.

58. Cooking with Julia Turshen for our third anniversary.

59. Near-daily texts from my retired writer and painter friend.

60. Practicing embodiment and thinking about repair as a form of self-care. Injuring my knee and my ankle and going back to PT. Relearning how to re-regulate.

61. Using the Libby app and reading ebooks from the library on my Kobo.

62. Planting annuals in three big planters on the deck. Stepping outside to visit the flowers.

63. Eating Jimmy John’s sandwiches in a parking lot on more than one road trip.

64. Thinking about the ancestors and mentors in my chosen family after reading Jonny Sun’s essay on his high school drama teacher.

65. Buttermilk biscuits and the tall, fluffy buttermilk pancakes from Smitten Kitchen.

66. Thinking about home décor as a “joyful jumble” of art and objects that reflect our lives, not Instagram ideals.

67. Celebrating Lucas’ ordination in Spokane. Invigorating conversations with smart friends and acquaintances. Pizza on picnic blankets in the park. Driving to Coeur d’Alene on the back roads. Indian takeout and kid chaos. Lucas’ mentor telling us that her students wrote a spoof of General Hospital in Lucas’ honor and they called it General Infirmary.

68. Poetry. Ada Limón’s “How to Triumph Like A Girl.” “Islands” by Muriel Rukeyser. Maggie Smith’s “Rain, New Year’s Eve.”

69. A summer babysitter.

70. Taking our daughter on her first flight to visit her family in Missouri. Remembering that the Midwest normal is different than life in the Pacific Northwest.

71. Angela Garbes’ description of her “pleasure-forward” approach to life and mothering.

72. Teaching Maeve to say “ahhh!” so that I could give her vitamin D3 drops. Her giggling when I floated a plastic bag in the air. The surprise of one of her first words being “CATTT.”

73. Finishing the expert-level ropes course at Tree to Tree Adventure Park to celebrate a local friend.

74. Ordering takeout on the first night back home from vacations.

75. Finally getting a custom nightguard to save my teeth and my jaw muscles from grinding while sleeping.

76. Laughing harder than Ryan while watching Jackass 4.5.

77. Celebrating three years of marriage while stuck in a Vancouver, B.C., hotel room with a feverish baby who couldn’t sleep.

78. Trying to live with limitations. Having no working kitchen range for a month. Being without reliable internet access for two weeks. Working with a child underfoot.

79. My first gray hairs.

80. Collecting as many guides as I can find to making art as a parent. Taking heart in the fact that babies aren’t babies for very long.

81. Making a Rubbermaid shoe storage container into a makeshift backyard pool.

82. Taking marriage inspiration from artists Bernd and Hilla Becher and volcanologists Katia and Maurice Krafft.

83. Giving and getting free items via the Freeya app.

84. Summer bike rides with Maeve in the trailer. Taking Ryan on his first Bridge Pedal. Sharing the bike so that he can commute to work.

85. Sinking into the comfort of a surprising time capsule in the early episodes of Home Cooking.

86. Taking ourselves out for treats after Maeve’s pediatrician appointments.

87. TheraTears eye drops.

88. Eating out as a family of three.

89. Escitalopram.

90. Getting going to feel good.

91. Cheering on Ryan in two cross country races this fall.

92. Going back to Dove antiperspirant after years of natural deodorants.

93. Watching the World Cup with my Ghanaian brother-in-law.

94. Taking an evening walk down Peacock Lane to see the Christmas lights and displays.

95. Maui with the whole Wilmes family. Cousin love in the mornings. Walks on the boardwalk. Fresh pineapple. Island humidity. Fish and grazing sea turtles and bright coral reefs. Playing in the surf at Baby Beach.

96. Not having a hot take.

97. Using my journal for cheerful retrospection.

98. Spotify notifying me that my top song of 2022 was José Gonzáles’ “Stay Alive.”

99. Embracing Dead Week.

100. Hearing the people I love laugh.

Categories
Miscellany

100 things that made my year in 2021

1. Hanging three birdfeeders and becoming a full-blown bird watcher. Picking up field guides at the local library branch. Smiling at Anna’s hummingbirds at the feeder, squirrels trying to get to the suet block and dark-eyed juncos hopping around the front yard.

2. Sam Anderson’s writing in The New York Times Magazine, whether he’s introducing me to Kevin Durant’s career or the last two northern white rhinos on the planet.

3. Cheering on everyone’s efforts to have and share simple (or complex) hobbies.

4. Attempting to capture backyard birds and the full moon through the camera scope on my new binoculars.

5. Enduring another year of the coronavirus pandemic, looking back on the one we’d already lived through, and turning to art and small kindnesses to keep going.

6. The launch of a trained behavioral health crisis response team bringing a bit of hope to our struggling city.

7. Strong women telling their own stories. Helen MacDonald’s H is for Hawk. Know My Name by Chanel Miller. Michelle Zauner’s Crying in H Mart.

8. Attempting cross-country skiing with only a handful of spills on a sunny, warm winter day on Mt. Hood. Drinking Barq’s and eating Burgerville takeout in the car on the way home.

9. Taking a virtual drawing workshop with the delightful, wildly creative Linda Barry.

10. Telling our families on Mother’s Day that we were expecting our first child.

11. Clinging to the gentle release of a short afternoon walk around the neighborhood.

12. Spending a lot of time unlearning work culture and thinking about my misguided millennial ambition. Caring less than ever about productivity and more about the small rhythms of my days.

13. Going downtown with Erika to see the cherry blossoms on the waterfront, and to see other people enjoying them, too. Eating green tea Kit-Kats under our masks.

14. Receiving my first COVID vaccine from my sister Aubrey in April.

15. Hunkering down in a cozy rental apartment in Bandon for Ryan’s 36th birthday. Looking out at the fog and taking long beach walks. Tidepooling among the rocks. Eating charcuterie and Dungeness crab with our hands. Watching School of Rock on DVD. Reading while listening to the ocean.

16. Falling for the allure of the Harry and Meghan interview with Oprah — and then watching The Crown in one glorious, cinematic blur.

17. Fleet Foxes’ SHORE, first on Spotify and then selections in this Tiny Desk (Home) Concert and this gorgeous recording.

18. Trying to prevent the internet and its various algorithms from learning of my pregnancy by googling things in incognito mode.

19. Reviving three jade plants that had root rot and replanting them in one big pot, where they are finally thriving again.

20. Turning to Emily Oster for data-informed answers on topics as wide-ranging as risk assessment with a newborn, foods to avoid during pregnancy and travel during COVID-19.

21. Attempting screen-free Saturdays whenever possible, as inspired by Katie Hawkins-Gaar.

22. Joining Rachel Syme’s Penpalooza exchange and writing to a pen pal who lives in England.

23. Baking chocolate chip cookies and Earl Grey tea cake.

24. Eating Taco Time when inclement weather struck (February’s record ice storm; the heat dome in June) and dubbing it “natural disaster takeout.”

25. Laughing out loud while reading Patricia Lockwood’s Priestdaddy and No One Is Talking About This.

26. Babysitting my nephew and niece on a handful of summer and fall mornings. Reading books together. Getting outside. Being silly.

27. Taking books and magazines to the Little Free Libraries in my neighborhood. Finding a copy of Great Circle in a Little Free Library while walking on Fairmount Boulevard. Driving to the Capitol Hill library branch to pick up my holds.

28. Finally seeing a dermatologist to get my moles checked.

29. Piling into my parents’ motorhome for a spring day trip to Mt. St. Helens and tailgating in an empty, icy parking lot. Attempting to hike in the snow. Looking out and seeing nothing but fog.

30. Taking a leap of faith and leaving my job at the end of June to explore self-employment.

31. Pork rinds.

32. Finding a near-perfect reading experience in Sue Miller’s Monogamy.

33. Flowering trees.

34. Watching TV almost every night. Only Murders in the Building. Maid. Reservation Dogs. Mare of Easttown. The White Lotus. Hacks. Sex Education.

35. Hanging out in my parents’ pool on hot summer days. And the community pool in my in-laws’ neighborhood when we visited Kansas City in the middle of a humid July.

36. Finding endless motivation and positive reinforcement on The Writers’ Co-op, a business podcast for freelance writers.

37. Staying informed about the pandemic and slightly more grounded in a time of misinformation and hysteria, thanks to Ed Yong and Zeynep Tufekci.

38. Griping about my neighbors’ use of gas-powered leaf blowers.

39. Laughing so hard at the pitch-perfect Barb and Star Go to Vista Del Mar.

40. Ignoring all food-focused media during the first trimester of my pregnancy, as well as most cooking. Avoiding mundane foods that suddenly grossed me out, including oatmeal, fried eggs and mushrooms.

41. Getting out of the house on Friday afternoons and starting the weekend with a local hike.

42. Feeling screensick for much of the year and yet still doomscrolling.

43. Ultrasound appointments.

44. Applauding Simone Biles and Naomi Osaka for changing how America thinks about athletic strength, well-being and health.

45. Getting out of the house and realizing how uncool we are at the Portland Flea Market. Buying ceramics and popsicles. Sweating through a PNW summer day.

46. Long conversations with friends at Maplewood Coffee and Tea.

47. Ryan teaching our nephew how to build his confidence while riding a bike. Kai pedaling toward us and announcing, “Comin’ in hot!” Biking the perimeter of Black Butte Ranch with my cousins. Finally getting a new Trek bike and building it during a Zoom session with Luke’s help. Riding behind Ryan on a long run around downtown Portland.

48. Summer smoothies.

49. Buying donuts while running errands.

50. Celebrating Aubrey’s 30th birthday with a long weekend in a weird vacation house in Depoe Bay. Getting silly with an elaborate treasure hunt and late-night dance parties. Watching bald eagles and ocean waves from the living room windows.

51. Liana Finck’s cartoons about motherhood. Edith Zimmerman’s slice-of-life comics depicting her new baby. Evie Ebert providing a bit about pregnancy that I would use over and over during my second trimester. Lydia Kiesling on pandemic parenting. Erin Gloria Ryan’s hilarious newsletter.

52. Hosting friends and family for dinner again. Pizza on the back patio. Big pots of soup. Giving tours of the house even though we’ve lived in it for over a year. Playing catch with our nephews in the front yard.

53. A garage baby shower, complete with forest-themed cookies and golden balloons and lots of happy mini-reunions. Getting the best advice from my teen and tween cousins.

54. Scoring Mary Carroll mugs during a rare local sale.

55. Finding pleasure and meaning in TV specials that spanned genres. Derek Delgaudio’s In and Of Itself. Bo Burnham’s Inside. Mike Birbiglia in The New One dropping the articles from his speech in a bit about how people refer to unborn children. Amy Schumer in Expecting Amy, which led us to rewatch her special Growing.

56. Sitting in the shade eating fries and drinking cocktails at Ça Va. Oysters on the patio at Flying Fish Company. Pizza under the space heaters at San Juan Island Brewing Co.

57. Drinking cider and eating soup at Topaz Farm on Halloween weekend. Crowding around the bonfire and watching an employee light another fire with a giant blowtorch. Listening to screams coming from the haunted corn maze.

58. Taking my nephew to the zoo on a chilly fall morning. Saying hello to the cheetahs and orangutans and penguins and otters and African wild dogs from the other side of the glass. Watching Preston watch the elephants play in the dust.

59. Making stuffing biscuits in late November. Eating them all in a week.

60. Hiking more than ever, even into the third trimester of my pregnancy. Exploring the Tillamook State Forest and Silver Falls State Park and revisiting some favorite trails on the coast. Staying stable with the help of trekking poles. Wearing tall socks and plenty of sunscreen.

61. Thinking more critically (and maybe slightly less judgmentally) about mothers who feel compelled to influence thanks to Kathryn Jezer-Morton’s excellent new Substack.

62. Joining an advisory council for Gonzaga Magazine.

63. Falling prey to the Twitter algorithm while thinking about rewilding my attention.

64. Drinking Italian sodas in the car on a day trip to Hood River for pears and apples. Meeting Carlos the steer and picking a bouquet of dahlias at Mt. View Orchards.

65. Watching Stanley Tucci’s Searching for Italy and then eating more pasta than ever. A festive late summer meal with an old friend at Montelupo Italian Market.

66. Celebrating my pal Shannon as he published his first book.

67. Reuniting with my best girlfriends for a long weekend in Seattle. Good pastries. A long walk around Green Lake. Talking about kids and childbirth. Laughing in the hot tub.

68. Sleeping in.

69. Listening to 101.9 KINK in the car.

70. Olivia Rodrigo’s SOUR. Attempting to learn “driver’s license” on the ukulele. Feeling joy wash over me while watching her Tiny Desk Concert performed in a DMV.

71. Watching the Japanese maple in the front yard lose its leaves in a fiery burst of late fall color. Pretending that it was in a competition with the neighbor’s tree as they changed shades. Looking out the living room window at the sword ferns that sprout from the neighbor’s sugar maple.

72. Frozen pizzas.

73. Subscribing to a clothing rental service that made my last months of pregnancy feel a little less frumpy.

74. Walking through Multnomah Village with Ryan to get the hell out of the house on the weekend. Eating bagels and drinking coffee on the sidewalk. Doing some early holiday shopping and admiring other people’s handiwork.

75. Making daily blind contour drawings during the month of October, as inspired by Wendy MacNaughton.

76. Summer visits to the International Rose Test Garden.

77. Watching Jagged and becoming an immediate, late-blooming Alanis Morrissette fan. Blaring Jagged Little Pill on a long drive. Listening to Ryan reliving college memories and singing in a passionate falsetto.

78. English breakfast tea.

79. Ada Limón on learning different ways to be quiet. Putting some of those to practice in my own life.

80. Spending a long weekend connecting with friends and exploring the San Juan Islands on our second anniversary. Riding the ferry and looking for sea life. Sailing alongside a pod of orcas on a windy, rainy afternoon. Eating meals on chilly patios and splitting a pint of local ice cream on the couch. Watching half of Pretty Woman on cable TV. Finding it nearly impossible to get out of a foam-topped bed while seven months pregnant.

81. Playing Sushi-Go with my sisters.

82. So many good documentaries. The Mole Agent. Rebel Hearts. Dick Johnson is Dead. The Donut King. LFG.

83. Remembering Eric Carle and Beverly Cleary and Eve Babitz and bell hooks and Gary Paulsen and Joan Didion — and the worlds they built and ideas they explored.

84. Making the living room a little bit cozier with an electric fireplace.

85. Attending a Creative Mornings session with Portland cartoon journalist Sarah Mirk and making a zine that inspired me for weeks.

86. Peperoncini chicken.

87. Experiencing the “discomforts” of pregnancy. Achy feet. Compressed nerves along my ribs that made my torso tingle. Acid reflux. Swollen fingers. Always, always feeling like I had to go to the bathroom.

88. Ordering takeout on Wednesday nights when we had birthing preparation classes via Zoom. “Rehearsing” contractions by plunging my hands into a bowl of ice water while Ryan counted aloud. Watching birthing videos that were stranger and more ritualistic than I had imagined possible.

89. Watching Tua, the neighbor cat, explore his new catio. The time that Ryan attempted to rescue him from the busy road while he was on a run. Hoping to see glimpses of Tua in the living room window. The arrival of a new kitten, Kona.

90. Using terms like “plant-forward” and “lentil-centric” while working on a big copywriting contract for one of my first clients. Getting excited about diving deep into a new topic. Hearing my stomach growl on long afternoons spent writing about food.

91. Celebrating Mom’s birthday at Topgolf and swinging a golf club at 38 weeks pregnant.

92. Finding inspiration and an answer to my search for anti-racist action in Hope Credit Union. Planning to open a money market account with them in 2022.

93. Asking Ryan to tie my shoes when we left the house for a walk.

94. Lots of takeout and delivery. Rediscovering Little Big Burger. Bamboo Sushi. Hat Yai’s fried chicken for two. Soup dumplings.

95. Buying myself half of a pumpkin pie the weekend after Thanksgiving.

96. Jason Isbell on country music, nostalgia and white victimhood.

97. Being so tired that I misspelled my own name on our Christmas cards.

98. A very good pair of slippers.

99. Body pillows.

100. Giving birth to our daughter Maeve Lillian on the evening of my 35th birthday.

You can read all of my lists for past years here.

Categories
Miscellany

100 things that made my year in 2020

1. Refining our homemade pizza dough approach. Making it a near-weekly staple by the middle of the year.

2. Writing a pair of pieces for EarthBeat about millennial Catholics (including me) who are grappling with childbearing and climate change. Upping the cool factor by working with a talented, passionate illustrator on this project.

3. Dragging Ryan to a matinee showing of Little Women. Convincing myself that I’m a Jo while knowing that I’m probably just a Beth.

4. Falling hard for CHEER on Netflix and then going to an aerial yoga class in an attempt to recapture some of the slight acrobatic abilities of my youth.

5. A decadent, slow, lovely Restaurant Week meal out at Extra Virgin (made all the sweeter in my memory by the fact of the months that followed).

6. Gerard Mas’ medieval-girl-with-a-modern-twist sculptures.

7. Listening to podcasts in the bath.

8. Bringing home Utz chips and kettle corn seasoned with Old Bay after traveling to Baltimore for a conference. Taking a long evening walk through the city. Sharing a very French meal with colleagues at (now-closed) Chez Hugo and daydreaming about future travel.

9. Marveling at Ryan’s joy and the rest of the city’s on Super Bowl Sunday when the Chiefs brought home the championship. Getting sprayed with prosecco in the street in Westport. Crowding onto the sidewalks with thousands of other Kansas Citians in chilly February for the homecoming parade.

10. Becoming a runner. Getting outside three days a week since February to move for 2-6 miles, sometimes surprising myself, sometimes working through tough feelings, sometimes counting every step until I get home again. Running a solo 5K down a two-lane road in suburban Kansas City, and then another one on a curvy SW Portland boulevard on a very foggy Thanksgiving morning.

11. So much television. Pen15. I May Destroy You. Schitt’s Creek. Sex Education. The OA. Taste the Nation with Padma Lakshmi. Our Planet. Ramy. The Baby-Sitters Club.

12. Scheming to buy Ryan a copy of I Am Easy to Find on vinyl for Valentine’s Day — and receiving the exact same gift from him.

13. Roxane Gay on the big step and simple pleasures of moving in with her fiancé.

14. Eating Vietnamese and Italian food with colleagues in Anaheim. Working poolside on a beautiful evening. Taking long walks to the convention center in the mild winter weather. Listening to travel stories told by my 75-year-old colleague, a Catholic sister who has been to more than 30 countries.

15. Celebrating my cousin’s wedding on Leap Day. Ryan tearing it up on the dance floor and doing a front handspring during a Rihanna song. Flying for the last time in 2020 just as we began to hear about coronavirus cases in the U.S.

16. Martha Stewart’s easy basic pancakes.

17. Seasons 1 and 2 of The Dream podcast. Do the Thing with Melissa Urban. Esther Perel’s How’s Work. Rabbit Hole. OPB’s Timber Wars.

18. Exploring the Rock Island Trail by bike — and quickly learning it was uphill, all the way, and my tires were leaky. Digging deep for motivation to keep going.

19. Creating a quarantine zine.

20. Fiona Apple’s Fetch the Bolt Cutters. Lianne La Havas. Mordechai by Khruangbin. Taylor Swift’s folklore and evermore on endless repeat.

21. Riding, for too brief a time, a wave of cresting hope as I rooted in the primaries for Elizabeth Warren and her intelligence, kindness and extreme competence. Warren and Kate McKinnon flipping the script.

22. Pantry meals. Dried beans. Yes, homemade bread, a bit behind the curve. Baked risotto.

23. Making ugly collages and silly doodles in my journal. Participating in one of Wendy MacNaughton’s Draw Together sessions and hanging our artwork on the bookshelf.

24. Learning to cut Ryan’s hair at home. Receiving a hair clipper kit from Ryan’s parents as a going-away gift. Persuading him to trim my hair during a 10-month break from the salon.

25. Feeling soaring highs and gloomy, disengaged lows through a promotion that didn’t pan out.

26. Zoom chats with my college girlfriends, with my writing group, with my cousins, with my therapist, with a volunteer committee. Zoom fatigue at work. Learning to “hide self view.”

27. Gaming the hell out of the Go365 program through our Humana health insurance in the quest for a free bicycle.

28. Movies. Palm Springs. Hunt for the Wilderpeople. Portrait of A Lady on Fire.

29. Praising the heavens for takeout containers of premixed Negroni at Il Lazzarone.

30. Adjusting slowly to the work-from-home life. Propping my laptop up on thick books. Learning to get up from my desk often. Sharing lunch with Ryan instead of my colleagues. Being OK with not wearing makeup to every Zoom meeting. Starting my work day at 7:00 am. Finding freedom in restriction.

31. Watching livestreamed Mass for a few weeks during Lent. Celebrating Easter, and then ignoring the digital option entirely for months.

32. Writing a song on the ukulele with Ryan in the early still-creative stretches of sheltering at home. Playing that song on Zoom with a couple dozen extended family members singing along.

33. Learning coping mechanisms from the smartest people around: kids.

34. Buying a Nespresso machine and letting it bring us some small joy every weekend.

35. Reflecting on how in lockdown, it all changes and it all stays the same.

36. Supporting my yoga teacher on Patreon instead of in the studio. Buying a strap and a second cork block for my home practice.

37. Uncanny Valley by Anna Wiener. Heft and Long Bright River by Liz Moore. Nothing to See Here by Kevin Wilson. Robinne Lee’s The Idea of You.

38. Feeling very fortunate as we made generous donations to local nonprofits with a chunk of our stimulus checks.

39. Accepting gifts of homemade masks from an upstairs neighbor and in the mail from my mom.

40. Participating in a gratitude photo exchange with my sisters during the first weeks of lockdown.

41. Keeping a StrikeThru journal to organize and clarify my work and home life.

42. Taking a Sunday drive to Clinton, Missouri, and getting startled by an Eastern Yellow-Bellied Racer snake while on a walk at the nature preserve.

43. Ordering takeout to celebrate birthdays and the end of another mundane week and in a tiny, futile attempt to “save the restaurants.”

44. Going on a virtual trip to Nashville to visit my sister instead of flying out for Memorial Day weekend like we’d planned. Shopping online at Nashville stores, listening to live music on Zoom and taking photos in front of “local” murals.

45. Crying about work stress and moving stress and the pandemic and Ryan’s unemployment and a gloomy Saturday and life not happening on my terms. So. Many. Tears.

46. Participating in Brian Benson’s Daily Write class on Zoom in April and May. Having a piece published in the resulting anthology, Proof That I Exist.

47. Saying goodbye for now to my dear friends and colleagues in Kansas City in a 2020-appropriate meetup.

48. Mailing a birthday card for Breonna Taylor to the Kentucky attorney general. Reading and talking and learning about systemic racism in this country during the summer’s wave of social unrest. Feeling helpless and hopeless and desperate for change.

49. Surviving several weeks of a bedbug infestation in our home. Commuting to and from my in-laws’ so we could get some sleep. Buying a new mattress.

50. Saying goodbye to Ryan’s Corolla and becoming a one-car family.

51. Dan Sinker’s son’s research project leading to an endless string of Bird Weeks.

52. Moving cross-country in the middle of a pandemic (after stressing about that move for endless months). Eating Taco Bell on the tailgate of our Budget moving truck. Almost running out of gas outside of Laramie, Wyoming. Wiping down every possible surface of our hotel rooms in Grand Platte, Nebraska, and Meridian, Idaho.

53. Watching movies simultaneously with friends and live-texting our reactions. Choosing yet another weekend film thanks to the inspiration (and Twitter threads) of Vulture’s Friday Night Movie Club.

54. Supporting Ryan through a rocky, prolonged spring of uncertainty at work and eventually, a few months of unemployment.  

55. Facetiming and Zooming and participating in car parades to celebrate holidays with extended family and grandparents. Masking up for distanced outdoor greetings. Waiting as long as possible to go to the grocery store.

56. A charming, simple look at the socially distanced life through the lens of a mom of teenagers.

57. The NYT Cooking app. Cheesy, spicy black bean bake. Dutch babies. Japanese-style tuna noodle salad. Somen noodles with mushroom broth. Korean barbecue-style meatballs. Mississippi roast.

58. Too much screen time.

59. Foraging blackberries from the end of the street.

60. Oliver Burkeman on the only life question we really need to ask ourselves: “Will this choice enlarge me or diminish me?”

61. Voting.

62. Escaping into a different reality through documentaries. Honeyland. Crip Camp. The Dawn Wall. Free Solo. This Mountain Life. My Octopus Teacher.

63. Saying hello again to a more bruised, angry, striving version of one of my favorite cities.

64. Eating (almost) every flavor of Kettle Chips in a summer obsession. Crowning Korean Barbeque as one of my favorites.

65. Settling into our rental house in southwest Portland. Hanging artwork on the plaster walls, after a few small emotional outbursts. Trying to revive our sunburnt houseplants. Purchasing real furniture.

66. The Oregon Zoo’s Twitter feed reminding us of our fuzzy neighbors while it’s closed to visitors. Uni! Juno!

67. Exploring our local parks and trails. Feeling more than a little awestruck when first stumbling across the old-growth forest in Marshall Park. Running in Tryon Creek State Park. Getting very familiar with the Springwater Corridor.

68. Nicknaming the neighborhood cats (Simon, Lindor, Mitt and Taffy), who mostly ignore us.

69. Hunkering down at my grandparents’ beach house for an incredibly restorative, restful, beautiful, slow anniversary stay on the Oregon coast. Building fires in the circular fireplace. Reading entire books. Hiking on muddy trails. Identifying jellyfish and crabs and anemones on the shore and in tidepools.

70. Passing the knowledge test to become licensed in Oregon again and celebrating that (and my legal name change) with a beer and several tears. (Still waiting on that Oregon license plate, though!)

71. Drawing so much hope and inspiration from the launch of The 19th* and its first year of coverage.

72. Playing and singing and generally just goofing around with my toddler nephew Preston.

73. Afternoon walks around the neighborhood with Ryan.

74. Learning to use our new Traeger grill. Happily reuniting with the abundance of Oregon produce in the summer. Filling our freezer with salmon fillets.

75. Missing book readings until I decided to find them on Zoom. Listening to Molly Wizenberg talk about her latest, The Fixed Stars. Delighting in BFFs Ann Friedman and Aminatou Sow chatting on my screen. Looking forward to reading Yaa Gyasi’s sophomore novel, Transcendent Kingdom.

76. Trying to take a mental vacation when we couldn’t really go anywhere.

77. Remembering what’s really important with Ada Limon’s poem The Conditional.

78. Scratching my travel itch just slightly by exploring the aisles at Barbur World Foods.

79. Hunkering down during a long, scary 10-day stretch as Portland had its first true wildfire season. Staying indoors and refreshing air quality index readings hourly. Worrying about family friends and their homes. Having dance parties in an attempt at exercise and ease. Trying not to overthink headaches and scratchy throats.

80. Finding a perfect bit of peace in a rainy fall visit to the Portland Japanese Garden.

81. Looking at the full moon through my binoculars.

82. Trying to ground ourselves in the seasons. Eating a lot of squash and making homemade pumpkin spice lattes and watching silly Halloween-adjacent movies like Addams Family Values and The Blob.

83. Getting outside to work off some nervous energy the weekend before Election Day and taking a 20-mile bike ride on the beautiful Banks-Vernonia State Trail.

84. A.O. Scott on Wallace Stegner and the conflicted soul of the west.

85. A new job for Ryan at On running.

86. Worrying as family members and friends and colleagues contracted COVID-19. Trying to balance my sanity with my safety. Using hand sanitizer that smells like a college basement. Staying home.

87. Reading the archives of Orangette while Ryan watches Chiefs games.

88. Having a two-week dalliance with cold showers and loving the jolt of morning energy.

89. Finally getting our hands on a kettlebell and a set of resistance bands. Setting up a little workout area in the basement.

90. Lurking on TikTok and learning that even Catholic sisters are using the app to connect with Generation Z.

91. Sharing some of my favorite books in the #perfect31 challenge.

92. The radical quilts of Rosie Lee Thompkins.

93. Toasting to better things to come with Haus aperitifs.

97. Enjoying a gentler waking experience with a sunrise alarm clock.

98. Hand-painted signs at the coast that reminded us to go slow. “Slow down. Seal crossing.” “Slow is the new fast.” “Yo, dude. Slow down.”

94. New sweatpants. Crewneck sweatshirts.

95. Getting slightly lost on a 10-mile hike on the Oregon coast but finding worthwhile views and good company.

96. Watching grackles fight in the front yard and Steller’s jays hopping around the spruce tree.

99. Telehealth appointments.

100. Two of my sisters receiving their first doses of the coronavirus vaccine. A few extra minutes of light at the end of each day.

Read my lists for past years here.

Categories
Miscellany

100 things that made my year in 2019

1. Leaving Facebook. Taking several months away from Instagram.

2. Tex-Mex tacos and beers chilled in the snowdrift on the balcony.

3. Holding my father-in-law’s hand after his surgery.

4. A fresh Jade Yoga mat.

5. Watching Coneheads on the library rooftop with free popcorn and beer. Going to the public pool with Sally. Buying Sesame Street stamps. Celebrating the public option. 

6. Emily Raboteau’s vital perspective on climate change.

7. A February trip to Los Angeles. Palm trees and sunshine. Boba tea and ice cream in Little Tokyo. Looking out at the city from Griffith Observatory. A hotel room with two bunk beds. Walking through the floral and produce districts. Watching the Oscars at a bar like it was a sporting event. Chasing the trip with Eve Babitz’s Slow Days, Fast Company.

8. Ignoring the algorithm and forgoing curation when the mood strikes.

9. Marriage prep meetings with a 77-year-old priest who told us, “I’ve learned that people seem to feel comfortable telling me they have doubts about the Catholic Church. So do I!”

10. The Audrey Hepburn episode of Mo Rocca’s Mobituaries podcast. Death, Sex and Money. Mary H.K. Choi’s podcast Hey, Cool Life.

11. Looney Tunes instead of CNN on the televisions at MCI.

12. Having friends over for dinner. Not caring too much about the menu or the playlist. Asking more questions.

13. The caramel brownie at Messenger Coffee. Meshuggah bagels. Chocolate chip cookies from The Russell. 

14. Evelyn Ebert’s newsletter, Everything Happened. The short modern poems of POME. Emily Gould Can’t Complain. 

15. Seeing the Kansas City Symphony perform the score to Casablanca thanks to some generous neighbors.

16. Kashmir Hill’s very good series on blocking the Big Five tech giants from her life.

17. Buying steaks and cooking at home on Valentine’s Day.

18. Ibuprofen.

19. Packing an “adult Lunchable” for work: cheese, crackers, veggies, olives, chocolate. 

20. Bonding with Ryan’s family during a scary time. Teaching my nephew how to fly paper airplanes while spending hours in a hospital waiting room. Taking my mother-in-law back to our place to nap. Getting lost in a maze of hallways after meeting the pizza delivery guy. Annoying Travis with fake makeout sessions to break the boredom.

21. Spending a night in Las Vegas with friends to see Celine Dion before her residency ended. Teresa bursting into tears the moment Celine sang her first note. Wandering around by myself in Vegas. Writing outside and appreciating the sunshine. Buffets. A long afternoon chat on a patio near a manmade waterfall.

22. Propagating our houseplants to make even more of them.

23. Wedding planning feeling like an unending task. Punching a box when it got too frustrating. Walking off the feelings. Attempting to surprise Ryan with dance lessons before I realized the process is as arduous as buying a used car. Finding inspiration in surprising places. Remembering we’re in it for each other.

24. Celebrating Mardi Gras with a “food addiction” party at work. Eating Cheetos, macaroons, gummy bears and chips and queso. 

25. Saying an unexpected goodbye to my dependable 2010 Jetta and bringing home our first joint car.

26. Anne Helen Petersen defining burnout for my generation. The Collected AHP. Talking about her tweets with Ryan on weeknights.

27. Hating spring like I do every year and going outside to put my bare feet in the grass. Participating in a spring yoga mala and realizing I may never do that again.

28. Having a picnic on an airplane while stuck at SeaTac in the spring. Enjoying clams and crab salads at my parents’ dinner table. Watching A Star is Born in the family room.

29. Walks around Liberty Memorial. Admiring the wide-open sky. Looking out at downtown from the museum observation deck.

30. Monday nights at Heartland Therapeutic Riding. Breaking up mud dreadlocks in horses’ manes and tails with pliers. Listening to Samantha’s mantra as she told her horse, “Easy, Murphy! Go slowly! Steady. Be careful.”

31. Learning from desert monks how to resist the cult of productivity.

32. Derry Girls. Fleabag. Schitts Creek. Season 2 of Big Little Lies. Shrill. The pilot episode of Gidget.

33. A weekend at a gorgeous, architectural house in St. Louis with Ryan and Jessica. Playing Pac-Man and Clue at the Gramophone. Calzones at Sauce on the Side. Riding Lime scooters everywhere. Sliding and crawling and scooting through City Museum all while being a tiny bit scared.

34. The New York Times reporting on Steph Curry’s popcorn obsession.

35. Chilled Lambrusco in a bottle with a cork fastener that has to be removed with pliers. Bringing sparkling wine on road trips and giving bottles as birthday gifts.

36. Getting sucked into Slack and resonating with the idea that punctuation and syntax are the “social lubricant” of the workplace.

37. Maggie Rogers, jubilant and luminous in a white suit on stage. Brandi Carlile belting out “A Case of You” under a summer sky in Bonner Springs. Taking Ryan to see Celine at Sprint Center, me unable to wipe the grin of off my face.

38. Appreciating the lush nature abundant on those not-yet-hot spring days in Kansas City.

39. Good movies at home on the couch. Booksmart. The Peanut Butter Falcon. Young Adult.

40. Enduring a marriage preparation retreat at a nearby parish and having some important conversations amongst all the enforced public kissing and long, preachy lectures.

41. Educating my youngest sister on music history.

42. Having my ego bruised and my brain lit up by this searing piece on the collision of gentrification and millennial craft food culture.

43. The National’s I Am Easy to Find. Mike Mills’ short film as an added bonus to the album.

44. Driving around sinkhole construction on my work commute for weeks.

45. Flipping to the “What You Get” feature of The New York Times Sunday Business section and choosing one of the three houses I’d buy in a dream world, then passing to Ryan and comparing choices.

46. A restaurant week dinner at Corvino Supper Club. A birthday dinner at Novel. A cheeseburger and draft root beer at the Au Cheval counter in Chicago.

47. Walking off the Sunday Scaries. Enjoying the sunset sky and catching the streetcar at Union Station to head downtown for a scoop of ice cream.

48. Lots of (mostly failed) attempts to refine homemade pizza. Giving up on cauliflower crust or some other complicated option and rolling out Trader Joe’s pizza dough. Piling it high with veggies and polishing off an entire pizza between the two of us.

49. Watching Making Perfect on Bon Appetit’s YouTube channel with Ryan. Waiting to crack the Thanksgiving issue until we finished the series. Making the mashed potatoes for Thanksgiving and again for Christmas. 

50. Other people’s weddings. Rapping “Jump Around” during karaoke hour at Erin and Adam’s reception. Laughing and dancing to 90s songs at Lynsey and Ryan’s wedding. Bunking at my parents’ place with my college roommate and her husband and daughter. Joining Ali and Teuvo for a group yoga class before they wed.

51. Welcoming my nephew Preston Edward to the world.

52. Taking it back to fourth grade with an egg drop contest at the office on a silly spring day. 

53. Getting away for Memorial Day weekend in Hermann, Missouri. Giving the local wine not one, not two, but six tries… and deciding it wasn’t for us. Eating giant pretzels and too much cheese. Reading and writing on the back patio at the coffee shop. Watching a robin sit on her nest of four eggs just outside our bedroom window at the bed and breakfast. Petting the host’s dog and listening to live music in the yard.

54. Listening to estrogen. (And supplementing with progesterone.)

55. Poems that bring meaning to our madness. W.S. Merwin’s For the Anniversary of My Death. Mary Ruefle’s The Good Fortune of Material Existence. Wendell Berry’s A Poem of Thanks. 

56. Seeing Ryan’s old stomping grounds at Missouri Southern State University. Spending the night with the Millers. Playing with the girls and having a pool party where all the adults got sunburned. Naps on the couch before dinner. 

57. Spending far, far too many hours in big box stores creating wedding registries. Attempting to lift Ryan up so that he could scan a garlic press with the laser gun. Getting slap-happy looking at all the things we didn’t need and spending too much time overthinking the things we did need. 

58. Saying goodbye to Mary Oliver. Remembering what she taught us about paying attention to nature.

59. Hanging out at Black Butte Ranch with Dad’s family. Finally getting to show Ryan the trails and trees. Swimming with nephews and cousins. A beer pong game devolved into deep conversation in the garage. Rolling deep in our bicycle gang. Morning ice cream. Petting horses in the pasture. 

60. Hot dogs and chicken bakes at the Costco food court.

61. Taking Ryan to the St. Paul Rodeo and cheering when a dirt clod landed in his plastic cup of beer — good luck!

62. Identifying plants on walks and hikes with the Seek app.

63. Alison Roman’s bacon, egg and cheese breakfast casserole for dinner.

64. Kansas City art in the summer. The “30 Americans” exhibit at the Nelson-Atkins. “Ralph Steadman: An Introspective” at the central branch of the Kansas City Public Library. Being mesmerized by the “Reflecting Motion” installation while it lasted.

65. A dreamy stay at the Channel House in Depoe Bay, Oregon. Soaking and reading in the outdoor bathtub. Watching the sunset through binoculars. Sighting gray whales in the bay. Shopping local. Walking on the beach at Neskowin. Lunch at Side Door Cafe. Feeling like I live a charmed life for 24 straight hours.

66. Bringing home zucchini, tomatoes and Mexican sunflowers from yoga class.

67. Salad ramen.

68. Going on a trail ride on a cool fall day. Seeing Ryan on horseback. Watching a woman film the entire experience from the saddle.

69. Joni Mitchell in Rolling Thunder Review singing “Coyote.”

70. Challenging hikes that I sometimes hated in the moment but appreciated at the top. Getting stung by a wasp while hiking uphill on the Oregon coast. Marveling in the snow and waterfalls at Silver Falls State Park. Climbing up through the muck of wet clay in Annot, France. 

71. Public figures being human. Stephen Colbert at his best talking with Anderson Cooper about grief. Jason Kander taking care of himself first. Nancy Pelosi clapping back under duress.

72. Reading Ross Gay’s The Book of Delights aloud before bed. 

73. The Washington Post’s ridiculous TikTok account.

74. A friendly summer evening putt-putt golfing and being heckled by the older couple golfing behind us at the Nelson-Atkins’ “Art Course.” 

75. Lo-fi music in my headphones. Ventura, Anderson .Paak. Con Todo El Mundo, Khruangbin.

76. Wedding Summit 2019 at the Lake of the Ozarks. Finally introducing my mom to the wonder of lightning bugs. Taking the sofa bed and giving our parents the bedrooms in our rental apartment. Walking on the kitschy boardwalk. Touring Stark Caverns and appreciating the cool climate and the incredible stalactites.

77. C.J. Hauser’s essay on her failed marriage. Jill Lepore on finding solace on a late friend’s laptop. Reporter Rod Nordland reflecting on time, weather and how we make sense of anything.

78. Tea gifts: Harney & Sons wedding tea. A Jasmine Pearl Tea Company sampler. Tiny tins of Vadham chai.

79. Celebrating huge success on the horizon for a good friend and fellow writer. 

80. Buying eggs from family-owned Campo Lindo Farms and reading the little notes printed in Comic Sans tucked inside the carton.

81. Finding professional motivation in The Cohort, Poynter’s excellent newsletter for women in media.

82. Laughing so hard I cried while playing games with my sisters and almost all of my best friends. Swimming in Lake Coeur d’Alene. Feeling all lit up and loved by the women in my life.

83. Pool wine.

84. Realizing I share a birthday with Kansas City’s (and one of the country’s) best museums. 

85. Our wedding day. Serving communion to our friends and family in an unheated church that I love. Riding in my grandpa’s Model A from the church to the reception venue. Dancing with our friends so hard that we had to wind down the reception early. My sister singing part of her toast speech. Ryan doing a Dirty Dancing lift with Adam. Eating two Ruby Jewel ice cream sandwiches. Swaying to a National song that nobody but us knew before we waved goodbye.

86. Appreciating the little victories that come with living an extremely online life. 

87. Sr. Helen Prejean at Rockhurst University and her reminder to stay open to grace.

88. Writing morning pages.

89. Watching Ryan race in the Plaza 10K.

90. A streak of diner food dinners. Chili cheese fries. French dip sandwiches.

91. Going to the movies solo. The Favourite. Parasite. The Farewell. 

92. Honeymooning in France. Eating all the bread and cheese and olives we could get our hands on. Appreciating delicious, cheap wine. Splurging on a proper hotel. Walking everywhere. Sitting and people-watching at sidewalk cafes. Dipping our toes in the Mediterranean. Enjoying a six-course dinner courtesy of our country hosts. 

93. Powering through several big projects at work. Launching EarthBeat. Redesigning the Global Sisters Report website. Introducing GSR in the Classroom.

94. Appreciating artistic intelligence and enjoying watching the progress of Andy Goldsworthy’s “Walking Wall.” Watching Leaning Into the Wind. Researching Goldworthy’s installations everywhere from here to Digne, France.

95. Finding traces of our wedding in the Musée Matisse in Nice.

96. Michelle Obama’s Becoming. Maybe You Should Talk to Someone by Lori Gottlieb. Trick Mirror by Jia Tolentino. How To Do Nothing by Jenny Odell. Barry Lopez’s Horizon. Once More We Saw Stars by Jayson Greene.

97. Revisiting old writing and sharing it before it feels polished.

98. Making my mom’s lasagna recipe.

99. Welcoming a moisturizing hair mask into my weekly routine.

100. Dreaming about our move to Portland.

Categories
Miscellany

100 things that made my year in 2018

1. Early walks to and from yoga class. The mystery nest of twigs that someone built around a sycamore tree. The grouchy little brindle dog in the neighbor’s yard. The sun glowing on the buildings across Broadway.

2. A hungry rush of consuming Oscar-nominated movies: The Shape of Water; I, Tonya; Call Me By Your Name; Phantom Thread; Three Billboards Outside Ebbing, Missouri. 

3. Green tea with almond milk and honey.

4. BOGO pho on Wednesday nights at iPho Tower.

5. Painting murals for an MLK Day of Service at Northeast High School. 

6. Lurking around the edges of the experience of motherhood. Lydia Kiesling’s essay on yelling at her children. Laura Turner’s beautiful birth story. Angela Garbes on claiming space (and science!) as a mom of color.

7. Watching Planet Earth on my new 4K TV.

8. A front-row spot at a morning yoga class three times a week. Finding community on the mat. Smelling sage and palo santo on my clothes hours later.

9. Launching a membership program at NCR in the hopes that we can sustain our mission of delivering independent Catholic journalism.

10. Discovering the group Choir! Choir! Choir! and their lovely project of teaching an audience popular songs in harmony.

11. Quinoa bowls.

12. Walking through Roanoke Park and playing on the adult-sized jungle gym.

13. A February visit from my youngest sister. Eating a lot of barbecued meat. Donning Gonzaga gear to create an impromptu Kansas City fan club. Making cookies and drinking Disaronno. Underground beers at O’Malley’s in Weston. Dancing at The Ship. Screaming at each other in an escape room: “That’s not what you do with binoculars!”

14. Watching the Winter Olympics and becoming an instant expert on snowboarding and every other obscure alpine sport. Stealing the phrase “nimble little sucker” from a commentator for perpetual inside joke use.

15. The first breaths of cool, thick air when landing back at PDX.

16. Eating dinner at Thames Street Oyster House in Baltimore. Walking the snowy streets in shoes with leather soles. Escaping into a bookstore for warmth and finding some hidden gems. Watching the Olympics in a Mediterranean restaurant. 

17. Welcoming my sister and her friend as our first weekend guests in the new place. A lineup of LC’s barbecue takeout on the kitchen island. Getting dressed up for a Sam Smith show. Riding Bird scooters in the rain. Having a tour guide and the beer taps to ourselves on a Boulevard Brewery tour. 

18. A recipe for stir fry sauce from Michelle Tam.

19. Brandi Carlile’s By The Way, I Forgive You.

20. Jackson’s Honest apple cider vinegar potato chips.

21. Mike Leach and friends’ gentle spiritual reflections on care and grace in NCR’s Soul Seeing column. 

22. Watching Won’t You Be My Neighbor in the theater on the Fourth of July.

23. My boyfriend’s dad making smoked ribs when my parents visited in September.

24. A crunchy hike at Wyandotte County Lake in late January. Taking photos from the dock of the icy lake. 

25. Grappling with how to be a better podcast host. Terry Gross on the art of the Q&A.

26. Using the Marinara extension to stay focused with the pomodoro technique.

27. This staggering, brilliantly reported longread about America’s richest farmer. You may not have heard of his name, but you’ve eaten his pomegranates or lemons or pistachios.

28. Catching the biannual misprint sale at Hammerpress.

29. Melissa Clark’s hot honey shrimp.

30. St. Vincent yanking on my heartstrings in her Tiny Desk Concert. Grace VanderWaal’s lovely, scratchy, aching voice. YoYo Ma returning again and again to Bach’s Six Suites for Unaccompanied Cello. 

31. Boulevard Brewing’s tequila lime gose.

32. Original glazed donuts from Lamar’s.

33. Changing my phone display to grayscale, thanks to a little nudge from Vox.

34. Winning “Best Podcast” from the Catholic Press Association.

35. Buying two new bras.

36. Supporting a new local cafe and bookstore… and a second outpost of my favorite KC ice cream shop in the same neighborhood.

37. “Through the Eyes of Picasso” at the Nelson-Atkins Museum.

38. Reflecting on the Catholic Church in a messy, heartbreaking, awful year. 

39. Sea Fare Pacific soup pouches.

40. Anne Helen Petersen on gentrification, experience-driven millennial tourism, and what that very specifically looks like in the trend of bachelorette parties taking over Nashville.

41. Making a Spotify playlist based on Kurt Harden’s “Essential Mixes.”

42. Soft Sounds from Another Planet by Japanese Breakfast.

43. My sister Erika and Jonathan’s wedding. My parents’ yard filled with 450 happy guests. Doing my own updo and liking it, for once. Erika’s shoulder shimmying during their first dance. Eating quesadillas in the kitchen late in the night.  

44. Going to a podcast listening party featuring an episode of Ear Hustle and then listening to a panel of local speakers on the societal and emotional effects of longterm incarceration.

45. “Neighbors” by Lucius. “The Upswing” by Bell X1. “thank u, next” by Ariana Grande.

46. Observing candle hour.

47. The Obama presidential portraits. 

48. Snapping up boxes of Traditional Medicinals Healthy Cycle whenever I can get them. When cramps strike, it’s better than Advil.

49. Watching Making Movies perform at the mayor’s State of the City address.

50. Hanging out in an infrared sauna on a cool spring day.

51. Appreciating the seasons.

52. Women standing in their own power. Ellen Pompeo and Aminatou Sow being unafraid to demand their professional worth. Lauren Groff’s By the Book column, shot through with searing poise and brilliant recommendations. Women!

53. Volunteering for KC Scholars and helping lots of striving youth and adults continue their higher education.

54. Lunch with my writing group at The Sundry.

55. Hosting friends for paella and tinto de verano. Feeling my heart swell at finally having a place suited to entertaining.

56. Florida by Lauren Groff. And Now We Have Everything by Meaghan O’Connell. An American Marriage by Tayari Jones. Mary H.K. Choi’s Emergency Contact. Autumn by Ali Smith.

57. Receiving a creative compliment from my new dentist.

58. Buying garden plants at the City Market and helping Ryan’s dad till his garden beds so we could reap the benefits of fresh peppers, tomatoes, herbs and squash.

59. A weekend in Spokane celebrating my youngest sister’s graduation from college. Showing Ryan the waterfalls and trails and parks of Spokane. Live piano music at a long, loopy dinner. Soaking up the Gonzaga love. Breaking bread with three good friends and their partners. Burgerville milkshakes on the drive back to my parents’ place.

60. Flint Town on Netflix.

61. Finding a kindred spirit who shares my unpopular opinion about Kansas Citians.

62. Sister Jean.

63. Creating a game of “Sex Jeopardy” for my sister’s bachelorette party. Creating the best Bloody Mary bar. Hiking Black Butte even though it felt impossible. Shutting down a karaoke bar in Sisters, Oregon.

64. Seeing The National live at Starlight Theatre in early October, their music pulsing out across the soggy crowd as rain pelted us continually and Matt Berninger waded out into the audience to share the moment.

65. Long walks at Champoeg State Park while visiting my parents.

66. Maggie Rodgers’ singles “Light On” and “Fallingwater.” Her technically and emotionally very good performance on SNL.

67. Taking a dance class from my brother-in-law. My entire family doing the Wobble on a wedding dance floor… and at a suburban TopGolf. 

68. Red wine and Cheetos at my grandparents’ house.

69. Witnesses like Dr. Christine Blasey Ford in a year that for women felt like a long uphill hike through quicksand. 

70. Hating on the big four (Apple, Facebook, Google, Amazon) despite using their products every week. Thinking more critically about my consumption of technology.

71. Comedian Ali Wong’s specials Baby Cobra and Hard Knock Wife.

72. Choire Sicha’s clever editing of the New York Times style section. Take, for example, this primer on self-care. His goofy, real advice in the Work Friend column.

73. Shrimp tacos for dinner.

74. Dancing all night at a silent disco during a weekend in Des Moines. 

75. Trying to keep up with good e-newsletters. The Ann Friedman Weekly. Matthew Ogle’s Pome. Anne Helen Petersen’s The Collected AHP. Katie Hawkins-Gaar’s My Sweet, Dumb Brain. Tributaries by John Graeber and John Hawbaker.

76. The music video for Janelle Monae’s “PYNK.”

77. Wesley Morris, very good as always, on the “anxious confusion of activism and criticism” that “robs us of what is messy and tense and chaotic” about art.

78. Moving into a condo just a few blocks away, but also a flying leap into cohabitation. A wall of west-facing windows. Bright, natural cabinets and hardwood floors. A gas range and a gas fireplace. A soaking tub. Waking up next to my love. Paring down two households into one. Sharing candles and furniture and kitchen counters.   

79. Feeling happy and bright on a day trip to Rocheport. Riding bikes under the beautiful fall canopy on the Katy Trail. A delicious lunch at Abigail’s. Hanging out with sweet, sleepy Clydesdales at Warm Springs Ranch. A glass of wine on top of the bluff.  

80. Watching Wild Wild Country and squirming with glee at the strange, strange phenomenon that briefly swept through my home state. 

81. A week in Florida with the fam. Reuniting Ryan with Gomek, a renowned (and now taxidermied) alligator at the St. Augustine Alligator Farm. Sticking our toes in the Atlantic Ocean. Iced tea on long afternoons in theme parks. My brother-in-law’s joy at taking the entire family to Waffle House for breakfast. Backyard pools. Celebrating Erika and Jonathan at a reception in Jacksonville. 

82. Seeing Spoon and Grizzly Bear at the Middle of the Map Festival on a hot, heavy June day.

83. Kyle Chayka on the depressing homogeneity of coffee shops, AirBnBs and Instagram accounts everywhere: AirSpace. (Bring on that book!) 

84. Frank Ocean’s cover of “Moon River.”

85. A very thoughtful, thorough goodbye to Rookie magazine and to the challenging media landscape, from Tavi Gevinson.

86. Rebecca Traister’s Good and Mad: The Revolutionary Power of Women’s Anger.

87. Receiving a total of 34 bath bombs for my birthday and Christmas from family members who know me the best.

88. David Foster on Celine Dion. Her wacky, earnest ballad for Deadpool 2. Her killer summer of high fashion.

89. A long weekend with my college girlfriends. Learning too much about labor and delivery. Making dinner together. Swinging in the living room and on the porch with my honorary nieces. Breakfast at Rockwood Bakery. Craft cocktails. Trying to remember the names of buildings on campus.

90. Having a community of neighbors who know us by name. Greetings in the elevator. A housewarming gift. Closing down the holiday party with the 60-something retirees. Petting neighbor dogs.

91. Sarah Taber’s smart, informed Twitter threads on agriculture, animal husbandry, biology and technology. Especially this one about draft horses. 

92. A summer “progressive tapas” crawl through the Crossroads.

93. Voting.  

94. Discovering a technique that finally brought life back to my dry ends: heated deep conditioning.

95. Walking through the Water Gardens in Fort Worth. 

96. The duet version of “Party of One” with Brandi Carlile and Sam Smith.

97. Frequenting our neighborhood vintage market on First Friday weekends. Finally finding an original, bright piece of art to hang over our bed.

98. Birthday cocktails at Miracle, a pop-up Christmas bar.

99. Samin Nosrat’s Salt Fat Acid Heat on Netflix.

100. Saying yes to spending the rest of my life with Ryan.

Categories
Miscellany

100 things that made my year in 2017

1. Staring at the moon on walks from the car to the apartment.

2. Seeing Anne Lamott at Unity Temple and hearing her talk so hopefully and genuinely about writing and love and political resistance. And then complimenting me on my outfit. 

3. Crispy Thai pork with cucumber salad.

4. Thinking about tree blindness. Being able to name the sycamore trees that line my street thanks to a MLK Day nature walk with a friend.

5. A Harper’s Bazaar article on emotional labor that I couldn’t stop thinking about and sharing with my girlfriends.

6. Welcoming George Goss to National Catholic Reporter for a few months as he helped us launch a podcast and we helped him explore Kansas City though sight and sound.

7. Understanding the appeal of Anthony Bourdain by diving headlong into Parts Unknown—and rejoicing when Netflix didn’t pull it after all. A New Yorker profile on Anthony Bourdain’s movable feast.

8. Frequenting the Stumptown Coffee Roasters cafe when flying in and out of PDX.

9. Hamlet at Shakespeare in the Park.

10. Getting through heartbreak with music. Belting out Charles Bradley’s “Victim of Love” at the top of my lungs while driving down the highway. Finding hope in “The Skies Will Break” by Corinne Bailey Rae. Eventually, bopping along to “Sure Don’t Miss You” by The Dip.

11. A happy hour with coworkers that turned into a night out at a dueling piano bar.

12. Winning a Sodastream at a charity auction. Lemon or lime soda water on the house almost every night. 

13. A weekend in Big Sky, Montana with my dearest girlfriends. Elaborate Whole30-friendly meals and lots of dark chocolate. Playing shuffleboard, having a glass of wine, and going to bed by 10:30. Talking about dating and kids and debt. A yoga class overlooking the mountains. Bear hugs and tears and baby spit-up.

14. Buying myself a Kiersten Crowley ring.

15. Getting ready in the morning while listening to The Daily.

16. Saying goodbye to Brian Doyle while continuing to share his beautiful words. Rereading “Joyas Voladoras” and sending it to friends. 

17. Austin Kleon’s reminders for sanity, here, here, and here.

18. Participating in a group email conversation courtesy of a dear friend who was spending several weeks in Zambia. Remembering when email was correspondence, not just a compulsory scan of a list of marketing appeals. 

19. Staring up at the sky and feeling our country’s collective wonder and awe during the solar eclipse. Putting eclipse glasses on the office’s cardboard cutout of Pope Francis. Eating Milky Ways and Sun Chips and queueing up the David Bowie tunes.

20. Seeing Arcade Fire live, at long last, and finding the term for one of my favorite genres of music: art pop. (Roisin Murphy, Beck, St. Vincent, Kishi Bashi, The Blow)

21. Local articles that start conversations about race and culture in Kansas City.

22. Getting upside down and balancing on my arms and lying in savasana at Karma Tribe Yoga. Doing Yoga with Adriene when I can’t make it to the studio.

23. A day trip to Lawrence, Kansas. Lunch at Merchants. Exploring Wonder Fair, an utterly charming gallery and paper goods shop. Reading in the park. 

24. Breakfast potatoes.

25. My dad’s endearing new hobby of capturing sunsets and sunrises.

26. Cover Stories, an album of Brandi Carlile covers.

27. Hot tea before bed, sometimes with honey. Collecting new flavors of Pukka tea like they’re precious treasures.

28. Delancey by Molly Wizenberg. She’s forever my favorite food writer.

29. Seeing The Shins live and feeling all the angst and yearning of my high school days in their lyrics.

30. The very sweet and strange Midnight Diner: Tokyo Stories on Netflix.

31. Riding my bike alongside my boyfriend while he trained for a half marathon. Even if he is so fast that he had to come back looking for me once.

32. My funny sister and observant mom.

33. Being completely floored and motivated by Bryan Stevenson’s career in Just Mercy.

34. Dancing to a Lady Gaga/Madonna cover band at the Kansas City Pride Fest.

35. Long Sunday afternoon phone calls with a long-distance friend dissecting the week’s articles and political twists.

36. Gentle reminders that we’re all in this together.

37. Befriending a three-year-old. Crawling around on the floor. Playing UNO.

38. Enjoying pastries from McLain’s Bakery when my coworkers were feeling generous.

39. Documentaries. Life Itself. Icarus. Life, Animated. I Am Not Your Negro. 

40. A sweet, beautiful spring wedding with immense pans of paella and crispy churros and open arms from a family I was meeting for the first time.

41. Watching Obama say goodbye to Joe Biden with a surprise Presidential Medal of Freedom.

42. Discovering that Randy Newman wrote “Feels Like Home.” His charming Tiny Desk Concert.

43. Shopping at my friendly neighborhood wine store.

44. Seeing U2 and Beck at Arrowhead Stadium.

45. A literary reader for Lent, from Nick Ripatrazone.

46. Big Little Lies on HBO. Insecure. The Handmaid’s Tale. A late-in-the-year discovery wrapped in perfectly British packaging: Lovesick. 

47. Joining a writing group and sitting down at the library most Wednesdays to workshop pieces in progress and talk about nerdy things like grammar and who’s who in the literary world. Moving on after the library closes to Sully’s Pub for a drink in a Mason jar and book list comparisons.

48. The Thrill of It All by Sam Smith. That lovely, lovely falsetto. Taffy Brodesser-Akner on his tear-stained confessions.

49. Nicholas Bate’s Autumn 7. (And the rest of his stripped-down-but-rich-in-ideas blog.)

50. Becoming a podcast host. Producing episodes like Muslim for Christians and the Communion of Saints (and Souls).

51. Laura Turner’s column on anxiety at Catapult.

52. Watching This Is Us and, yeah, tearing up sometimes.

53. Nicole Cliffe’s delightful and hilarious habit of asking her Twitter followers thoughtful questions.

54. A week in Maui with my sisters and mom. Cooking dinner and eating on the lanai. Riding ATVs through the red dirt and green foliage. Jumping off of Black Rock. Zipping through the rainforest. Reading so many books. Playing cards. Watching movies. Sleeping hard on the pullout couch.

55. Leading horses for riders Johnny and Sheila at Heartland Therapeutic Riding on Monday nights. Sheila’s answer when I asked her how her Thanksgiving went: “It was great! I had a Bud Light for you.” Thick winter coats of fur. Picking hooves and stalls. Jogging alongside a horse through deep sand and over poles.

56. Mari Andrew’s brilliant illustrations. Pete Souza’s masterful parallel political posts. Liana Finck’s weird and lovely drawings.

57. Hanging out with my sister’s massive English Mastiff puppy.

58. Spending an hour in the float tanks at Floating KC. And in a dreamy zero-gravity massage chair for 15 minutes before my float.

59. Feeling so much summer love for Julia Fierro’s The Gypsy Moth Summer.

60. Soup and salad for dinner on Sundays and Tuesdays in the fall. Bon Appetit’s simple technique for dressing a salad. This parmesan brodo, which comes together quickly and has unforgettable flavor.

61. Popsicles on the porch at NCR.

62. A monthly meeting with three writers at a kitchen table, where we talk about a chapter of a writing textbook but mostly lament about the difficulty of the writing life that we can’t stop choosing.

63. Maria Bamford’s special Old Baby.

64. Watching the Zags cruise all the way to the NCAA championship game during March Madness. Holding down my bar stool at KC Bier Co. Convincing all my coworkers to come watch the game with me—and to wear my Gonzaga apparel. 

65. Ariel Levy’s The Rules Do Not Apply.

66. Standing tall on my favorite new soapbox: that Silicon Valley isn’t here to help anyone but themselves. Scott Galloway’s TED talk. Lauren Duca speaking truth to power.

67. Catching the Alvin Ailey Dance Company at Johnson County Community College.

68. Early relationship nerves and self-consciousness blossoming into easy, comfortable intimacy. 

69. Discovering more local restaurants that I’m striving to put into (somewhat) regular rotation. Brown & Loe. The Corner. The Rockhill Grille.

70. Amy Krouse Rosenthal’s “You May Want to Marry My Husband.” 

71. Ta-Nehisi Coates on the first white president. Some of My Best Friends are Black by Tanner Colby. Yaa Gyasi’s stunning Homegoing.

72. Exploring the Wizarding World of Harry Potter with my very enthusiastic coworker Michele, who happens to be a Catholic sister in her 70s. Drinking frozen butterbeer on the cobblestone steps. Whizzing over Hogwarts on a (virtual) broomstick. Hearing Michele tell a child, “The wand does choose you, you know.”

73. Learning that it’s really not so hard to make chicken wings at home. Baked crispy peppercorn wings. Buffalo sauce.

74. The unabashed joy and tenderness of Greg Boyle’s Barking to the Choir: The Power of Radical Kinship.

75. Laughing way too hard at stupid, silly tweets, especially when they’re about the social media platform itself. Melting down with the rest of the world when Twitter introduced a 280 character limit and then promptly getting over it. But still mostly tweeting under 140 characters.

76. Getting back to the ukulele and realizing I’m actually not horrible at stringing together chords.

77. Making out.

78. A summer morning swim in my parents’ backyard pool.

79. Loving Celine Dion, who loves us all back.

80. Walking to the beautifully designed Monarch Coffee and sipping an americano while reading the Sunday paper or working on an essay.

81. Taking my sister to dinner at Pok Pok.

82. Cecile McLorin Salvant’s Dreams and Daggers. 

83. The New York Times Magazine’s Letter of Recommendation series. Propagating pothos plants for many lucky recipients. Giving Kneipp herbal bath oils as a post-race gift.

84. Homemade chia pudding.

85. Giving in to an incessant marketing campaign but still truly enjoying the 21st-century wonder of Thinx.

86. A Tale for the Time Being by Ruth Ozeki. The Pacific Northwest. Japan. Loneliness. Journals. Nature. I’m on board.

87. Love letters from a young Barack Obama.

88. Succumbing to peer pressure and watching The Bachelor, The Bachelorette, and Bachelor in Paradise with coworkers. 

89. Seeing Katy Guillen and the Girls play at Knuckleheads Saloon. 

90. Baby Driver, before knowing about Kevin Spacey. 

91. Finding oases of healthier, tastier food on a business trip to Orlando, like Sofrito Latin Cafe and Tabbouleh.

92. A much-needed February visit from three of my very best friends. Eating brunch on a patio in the winter. Letting my friends backcomb my very curly hair before a night out. Drinking half-caf lattes as though we can handle them. Putting on sheet face masks and almost peeing our pants with laughter. Four of us sleeping and hanging out in my tiny apartment.

93. Happy hours, tours, and trivia night at Boulevard Brewing’s Beer Hall.

94. Watching Emily McDowell burst onto the internet A-list with her much-needed line of empathy cards. Giving and receiving her gifts and cards. Reading There Is No Good Card For This. 

95. Splurging on Josh Rosebrook skincare. 

96. A flannel duvet cover and a new set of sheets.

97. Silent but keen public observation.

98. Tank and the Bangas bringing so much joy into my year.

99. Taking the occasional break from breaking news in a politically stressful year. “All that’s breaking at this point is you.”

100. Beginning to understand, finally, what Toni Morrison means when she writes about rising in love.

Categories
Miscellany

100 things that made my year in 2016

  1. Kansas City barbecue. The fry seasoning at Joe’s KC. The jar of pickle slices next to the cash register at Arthur Bryant’s. Wet-Naps and standing in line and burnt ends and Boulevard Wheat on draft. Taking my mom for deep-fried pickles at Char Bar every time she visits.
  2. Catching lightning bugs in a mason jar with my sisters on the art museum lawn.
  3. Pop-up yoga in the park. Classes at Karma Tribe Yoga on Broadway.
  4. Volunteering at Heartland Therapeutic Riding. Seeing kids and adults communicate with horses and blossoming for it.
  5. Long walks in Loose Park.
  6. The coconut milk-based chocolate ice cream at Betty Rae’s. Sometimes with a scoop of peanut butter on top.
  7. The pilot episode of Broad City, featuring a terrifyingly infantile Fred Armisen. And then every other episode of Broad City.
  8. Media featuring strong female friendships: Crazy Ex-Girlfriend. Call Your Girlfriend. Girls. A Few Things with Claire and Erica.
  9. Renting 530 square feet of my own. Two nearly-full bookcases. A dishwasher. Houseplants and a ninth-floor view.
  10. Walking a block to work.
  11. Spending my weekdays with coworkers who are intelligent and social justice-oriented and clever and kind and engaged.
  12. Michael Chabon on taking his son Abe to Fashion Week in Paris.
  13. Janet Cardiff’s Forty-Part Motet.
  14. Brisk, biting winter days with blue skies and sunshine.
  15. Revisiting The Cranberries’ Tiny Desk Concert whenever I needed a pick-me-up.
  16. Late-night swimming with friends in Phoenix in February.
  17. Lauren Groff’s Fates and Furies.
  18. The World’s Easiest Cookies from Nom Nom Paleo.
  19. Concerts at Crossroads KC: Brandi and the twins putting on another amazing show on a week when we were all feeling fearful. Shakey Graves singing about haunted houses. Sylvan Esso bouncing around on a hot, heavy night.
  20. Seeing movies at the blast-from-the-past Rio and Glenwood Arts theaters. Captain Fantastic.
  21. Chelsea Fagan and her team at The Financial Diet keeping finances and money talk real and approachable for millennials.
  22. Obama and Biden’s bromance. Joe Biden finding two quarters.
  23. Leslie Jones lovin’ on Colin Jost. Leslie Jones covering the Summer Olympics. Justice for Leslie Jones.
  24. Playing the most brilliant April Fools’ prank on my baby sister by using her cell phone number for an amateur Chewbacca impression contest.
  25. Practicing my Spanish with other eager hispanohablantes in the ¡ClaroKC! club.
  26. Gentle, welcome Twitter morning greetings and evening sign-offs from Esme Weijun Wang and Lin-Manuel Miranda. 
  27. KonMari-ing my phone thanks to an episode of WNYC’s Note to Self. Feeling more zen every time I look at my nearly-empty home screen. 
  28. Great journalism: Ta-Nehisi Coates on his black president. Taffy Brodesser-Akner asking what Cool Jesus would do. A massive Mother Jones investigation that led to the DOJ ceasing the practice of contracting with private prisons.
  29. Making up stories about other people’s pets and restaurant servers.
  30. Authentic Mexican food in the Midwest. Strong margaritas at Ponak’s. Mexican beer and carne asada on the patio at Los Tules. Tacos al pastor in a backyard.
  31. Catching Hammerhedd, Kansas City’s kid metal band, playing on a front porch during Porchfest.
  32. Watching classic movies for the first time. The Truman Show. American Beauty. Boogie Nights. 
  33. Maria Bamford being her wacky, wonderful self in Lady Dynamite.
  34. Drinking grapefruit La Croix. Sitting at the office conference table comparing flavors with my coworkers. Bon Appetit’s rejected flavors. “Sippin’ on La Croix.”
  35. Laura Turner’s brave writing on anxiety and deciding to stay on her meds while trying to conceive and miscarriage.
  36. Escaping into a funnier political reality by binge-watching Veep.
  37. My sister’s curiosity about my toiletries. 
  38. Going to the mountains with the family. Playing card games late into the night. Driving home packed like sardines, all six of us in one SUV. Skiing for an afternoon and not falling once.
  39. Laughing at the ludicrous conceits behind Anthropologie furniture catalogs. Thinking about social class and being “basic.” Reassuring myself about renting for now by thinking about keeping a low overhead. 
  40. Learning to embrace the outdoors in the Midwest. Hiking on the plains. Swinging through the trees at Go Ape. Going outside at dusk to walk around the neighborhood. 
  41. Standing in the produce cooler at Costco on hot July days.
  42. Campari and soda with a generous wedge of lime.
  43. Mike Birbiglia’s six tips for making it small in Hollywood. Or anywhere. Mike Birbiglia’s five reasons to support independent films.
  44. Turning on the TV during a bout of insomnia and coming across Jacques Pepin cooking with his granddaughter Shorey. The way he calls Cornish hens “ze tiny chickens.” 
  45. Reliving my fourth-grade Oregon state history education at the Frontier Trails Museum.
  46. Zinger tea for colds or sore throats or especially cold nights.
  47. Walking blind into seeing Lion and coming out grateful and sobbing.
  48. New-to-me vinyl albums: Bread, Baby I’m A Want You. Simon and Garfunkel, Bridge Over Troubled Water. Michael Jackson, Bad. Billie Holiday, Music for Torching. Diana Ross and The Supremes, Anthology.
  49. Refilling bottles of Tea-Biotics kombucha at the Overland Park Farmers Market.
  50. Revisiting silly, stupid comedies. Forgetting Sarah Marshall. Just Friends. I Love You, Man.
  51. Greasy cheeseburgers and Irish sandwiches with a kind, humble former priest and current cartoonist. 
  52. Finding poetry on Twitter. Wendy Cope, “The Orange.” Nael, “The Tiger.” Sharon Olds, “Douche-Bag Ode.” Christian Wiman, “My quiet.”
  53. Texting long-distance friends on a daily or weekly basis.
  54. Visiting friends in Madison. Eating lots of good food. Looking out over the lake in the dark. Playing Mario Kart and Bananagrams and Balderdash. 
  55. The music video for Adele’s “Send My Love (To Your New Lover).”
  56. The National World War I Museum. The Nelson-Atkins Museum of Art. The National Mustard Museum.
  57. Aly Raisman’s double layout during her floor routine. 
  58. George Saunders on his next novel and knowing when to dive into a new project. 
  59. Eating pineapple popsicles and drinking rosé on a bright, wet spring afternoon.
  60. Cozy brunches with visiting family at Gram & Dun.
  61. Patton Oswalt on suddenly being a single dad. “I can’t. I can’t. I can’t.”
  62. Cuddling.
  63. Seeing Miles Ahead and then hearing native Don Cheadle talk about the process, with much of his family in the seats around us.
  64. Flying my curly hair flag. Applauding those who question why we often don’t.
  65. Watching too many YouTube videos of 12-year-old Grace Vanderwaal. 
  66. Bringing my parents’ smelly black Labrador in their demolished dining room for treats and some Christmas morning hugs.
  67. Good advice the way only Garrison Keillor can give it: “Do the right thing. Travel light. Be sweet.”
  68. Lattes and writing at Quay Coffee. Walking through the City Market on a warm fall morning. Buying myself flowers. 
  69. Spending an evening at Knuckleheads with Sara Watkins and her lovely voice and her fiddle skills.
  70. Kate McKinnon. 
  71. Remembering to appreciate—and hoping to someday emulate—how much the Obamas love each other.
  72. Walking to dinner at Shio Ramen Shop and breakfast at Krokstrom Klubb and Market.
  73. Tilda Swinton’s incredible Christian Dior wardrobe in A Bigger Splash.
  74. Surprising my dear friend Ali by showing up on her doorstep in Spokane for her thirtieth birthday. Wearing flower crowns and eating shortbread cookies and sipping champagne with her family and friends in her darling little house.
  75. Bringing a little of my old home to my new home with a wooden mountain range, a vintage pennant, and art from friends.
  76. Kansas City mayor Sly James singing “Kansas City.” 
  77. Scaachi Koul tweeting about her hilarious, charming immigrant parents.
  78. A tour, dinner, drinks, and live music at Weston Brewing Company. Who knew hanging out in a underground cave could be so festive?! 
  79. Bon Iver’s 22, A Million.
  80. Reading the comments. Thinking about what a publisher owes its contributors and its audience. Making the conversation more civil. Thinking about an engaged audience as an asset.
  81. Tall cups of hot tea and eavesdropping at Westport Coffee House.
  82. Being in the water on hot, humid summer days: the pool at my apartment, a cool shower, the lazy river at Schlitterbahn Kansas City.
  83. Getting sucked into The Life-Changing Magic of Tidying Up just like every other American woman.
  84. Revisiting my alma mater’s basketball superstar of 2005.
  85. Receiving a box of Oregon apples and pears in the mail, thanks to my mom.
  86. Beyonce’s Lemonade.
  87. Playing Ms. Pac-Man at Tapcade and imagining I might be good enough to someday approach the high score.
  88. Long phone conversations on Sunday afternoons. 
  89. Documentaries: Amy. Merchants of Doubt. Amanda Knox.
  90. Saying goodbye to a dear friend by drinking Bloody Marys and trying to hit targets at TopGolf. 
  91. Visiting the Oregon coast to listen to and look at the waves. Steamer clams and salmon chowder. Grilled shrimp. Running my fingers over baleen at the whale-watching center in Depoe Bay.
  92. Bite Beauty lip crayons.
  93. Being okay with a little social media fatigue.
  94. Marveling at the crazy-huge historic homes along Ward Parkway and in Janssen Place.
  95. Gonzaga: The March to Madness on HBO.
  96. Boulevard Brewing’s Ginger-Lemon Radler. 
  97. Peppermint oil in a cool bath during the summer. 
  98. Supporting KCMO small businesses, especially Hand & Land.
  99. Embarking on the Pulitzer Project, in which I read the Pulitzer fiction winner for every year of my life.
  100. This guy.
Categories
Miscellany

100 things that made my year in 2015

1. Roasted chicken with dijon mustard.

2. Taking pictures out of airplane windows.

3. Kombucha.

4. Growing my own tomatoes in the backyard.

5. Thinking about not having to know everything. Noah Baumbach’s clever dig at Google-happy hipsters young and old. Rilke on living into the questions.

6. Continuing to keep a logbook.

7. Flipping my part to wear my hair down a second day.

8. Practicing yin yoga again.

9. Reliving my college days and dressing up for a Gonzaga game with my baby sister.

10. Revisiting brilliant essays by Joel Peckham, Brian Doyle, and Patricia Foster in The Sun magazine.

11. Humor. Tig Notaro at the Aladdin. The Maria Bamford Show. Marc Maron’s self-deprecation.

12. Barry Lopez speaking with Jon Krakauer at Wordstock.

13. Modern womanhood made easier: Lola subscription service. Stowaway cosmetics. Lenny newsletter.

14. Speaking on emotional intelligence at the inaugural Tipsy TED Talks hosted in my Portland friends’ basement.

15. Joining other writers for regular critique sessions and conversations on the writing process.

16. Local restaurants. Bollywood Theater. Dick’s Kitchen. Por Qué No?

17. The Joe Biden compliment generator.

18. Live music: The exuberant creativity of Kishi Bashi. Brittany Howard’s self-possessed power at Edgefield. Seeing Brandi Carlile live for the fourth time and hearing her cover of Murder in the City. Introducing my sister Erika to the jaw-dropping talent of Punch Brothers.

19. Finding the productivity sweet spot.

20. Discovering the smart women at Of A Kind. 

21. Farewell brunch to the original Besaw’s location.

22. Midi rings.

23. Those who poke fun at the artisanal, perfectly curated, just-so zeitgeist. 

24. Good music. BØRNS, Dopamine. Alabama Shakes, Sound and Color. Sufjan Stevens, Carrie and Lowell. Fleetwood Mac, Rumors. Andrew Belle, Black Bear (Hushed).

25. Epsom salt baths with Dr. Teal’s.

26. Jenn Armbrust on the feminine economy.

27. Completing my third Whole30. Talking about and eating real food.

28. Bison, antelope, and elk at Yellowstone National Park. Hot tubbing on a crisp Montana night. Talking long and deep with my cousin.

29. Temporary tattoos.

30. Eating barbecue and drinking beer on Valentine’s Day with two of my best girlfriends.

31. Discovering the joys of wearing earplugs on flights.

32. Louis C.K. on fairness and perspective.

33. Spiritual direction. Grounding. Imaginative prayer.

34. Starting this website.

35. Patacones at the Portland Mercado.

36. Making a list of “Grandma-isms” and hanging from pine rafters with my cousins during a long weekend at Black Butte Ranch. 

37. Essay workshops with Brian Benson and Natalie Serber at the Attic Institute.

38. Lexapro.

39. Turning off the alarm on weekends.

40. Getting my creative nonfiction published for the first time.

41. Making dinner for the family at my place on Mother’s Day after my dad rescued our Aerobie from a neighbor’s tree.

42. Thai omelets.

43. Twitter as an art gallery. 

44. Wine tasting with Grandma. Renting a trolley. Investing in a few grown-up bottles of wine.

45. Anthony Doerr’s All The Light We Cannot See.

46. Nick Ripatrazone’s literary reader for Lent.

47. Two-stepping with strangers in Austin, Texas.

48. Wearing my opinions and feelings on my chest, thanks to Balm and Otherwild. 

49. Melanie Lynskey on WTF with Marc Maron.

50. Letterpress artwork from Hatch Show Print.

51. Aziz Ansari’s Modern Romance.

52. Hearing Eula Biss speak on immunity, science and fear, and being a “citizen thinker.”

53. Lady Hill Winery’s Freedom Hill Vineyard Pinot Noir.

54. Watching movies. Foxcatcher. Whiplash. Chef. Me, Earl, and The Dying Girl. Inside Out.

55. Revisiting our 2014 trip to Japan with a picnic under a cherry blossom tree on Mount Tabor.   

56. Drinking decaf coffee in my Helen Levi mug.

57. Jumping on the literary bandwagon. Elena Ferrante. Karl Ove Knausgaard. 

58. Saying yes. Speaking to fellow parishioners at my parish’s annual Novena of Grace. Accepting a new job offer and moving to Kansas City. 

59. Stephen Colbert’s interview with Joe Biden. 

60. Mary Karr’s response to a friend commenting on her open blouse: “Aw, I was just trying to bust a bone.” Also, The Art of Memoir.

61. Picking up the phone and having long conversations with fellow writers and friends.

62. Pope Francis. 

63. George Saunders on his writing education.

64. Walking. Around my neighborhood, to the coffee shop, on Mount Tabor on a Sunday morning.

65. Adele’s Hello music video.

66. Leather oxfords from Will Leather Goods.

67. Being moved by poetry. Carrie Fountain, Want. Dan Albergotti, Things to Do in the Belly of the Whale. Mary Karr, Who the Meek Are Not.

68. Rereading Jhumpa Lahiri on James Salter. 

69. Oliver Jeffers’ dipped paintings.

70. Watering the houseplants on Tuesday. Making coffee in the french press. Stacks of books in my bedroom and critiqued essays in my sunroom.

71. Cupping.

72. Making an emergency preparedness kit with my roommate after we all freaked out over The Atlantic doomsday article. 

73. Birthday prosecco at Bar Avignon. Birthday s’mores at Ned Ludd.

74. Donna Tartt’s The Goldfinch.

75. Swimming in the Atlantic Ocean first thing every morning while on Cape Cod. 

76. Repurposing my Rifle Paper Co. desktop calendars to use as notecards.

77. Kate McKinnon being her glorious self…and doing a bang-up job imitating everyone else while she’s at it.

78. The Dear Sugar Radio podcast. 

79. Embracing the silly and the serious. Adam J. Kurtz. Dallas Clayton. Jenny Slate. 

80. Home Alone live with the Oregon Symphony.

81. Slim Palate’s Chewy Dark Chocolate Chunk Cookies with Sea Salt.

82. Maira Kalman’s The Principles of Uncertainty.

83. Live-tweeting my road trip with Dad to Kansas City.

84. Finding a mouthwash that feels as straightforward and effective as it looks.

85. Obama’s interview with Marc Maron. His eulogy for Beau Biden. His rendition of Amazing Grace at Clementa Pinckney’s funeral.

86. The soundtrack for The Secret Life of Walter Mitty. 

87. Buying jars of pickles in Montreal and Bozeman.

88. Peppermint tea.

89. Ana Marie Cox on coming out as a Christian.

90. Amy Poehler’s Yes Please.

91. New York City. AirBnB with a view. Dinner at Balthazar. Oysters at Cull & Pistol. Cubanos and Mexican street corn at Cafe Habana. Walking the High Line at night.  

92. Using all of the vegetables from our CSA. Except for the turnips.

93. Rereading the Harry Potter series.

94. Simone Campbell on spiritual boldness. 

95. Meghan Daum’s The Unspeakable.

96. Nashville. Eating at Jeni’s Splendid Ice Creams more than once. Revisiting hot chicken. Shopping for cowboy boots. Shouting over the music at honky-tonk bars. 

97. Eating too many Hood strawberries all June long.

98. Thinking about strength and softness. How to project power. How to hold a stranger’s baby. 

99. Going to readings at Powell’s Books.

100. Bright, quiet early mornings.