1. Read (more) Books

I love having read. I love the feeling of finishing a journey that took place entirely from the comfort of my couch (see: laziness). The last page turned: a feeling of accomplishment and completion --little effort and usually great reward. I, however, do not always enjoy the act of reading. When I was in 9th grade, it took me literally two years and several re-starts to read a single book --and it was one I wanted to read. (It was Victoria Holt's The Road to Paradise Island. Spoiler: It wasn't worth it.) 

At 27 years old, J.K. Rowling, reminded me that reading can not only be enjoyable but also incredibly meaningful. Every now and then with the right book, you stumble upon something that influences large parts of your life and can change the way you look at...everything. Every book is different for every person. Each of us pulls from different experiences, backgrounds, and beliefs then interprets the words in ways that are meaningful (or not) to us. I read Half-Blood Prince only a few months after my grandfather died so you can just guess how hard I cried on page 596.

The power of paper, you guys. Of course, not all books do this. Most don't. And sometimes, I let that discourage me. I have attempted many a book on a trusted friend's recommendation, randomly plucked a cute cover off a clearance shelf, and borrowed the occasional best seller from the public library only to be sorely disappointed that it just wasn't for me. It's kind of like I'm Julia Roberts in Runaway Bride and I have no idea how I like my eggs. How can I be thirty and have no idea what kind of books I like? I loved HP but am well aware that typical fantasy fare is not my jam. I have a feeling that genres are not going to be my thing and this is a scour-the-world-one-book-at-a-time type search. Goodie. *eye roll* (I'm even lazy when it comes to discovering my recreational preferences.)

I want to stop being that girl that when asked if she's read a good book lately suggests a book she read in the 9th grade that wasn't really that good so she doesn't seem like a dope who doesn't really read. These books I've selected are some most literary authorities consider to be 'great' or 'classic' so it seems like as good a place as any to start. I tried to include one from each of the quintessential authors that I have not yet attempted and I think I might actually enjoy. (Anything by Hemingway or Dickens is just a no-go.) I am starting with these six which I feel is most definitely an ambitious number to tackle in a 12 month span:

• Love in the Time of Cholera by Gabriel Garcia Marquez
• 1984 by George Orwell
• Wuthering Heights by Emily Bronte
• Beloved by Toni Morrison
• The Great Gatsby by F. Scott Fitzgerald
• Sons and Lovers by D.H. Lawrence

Will I force myself to read all of these books for the sake of finishing my list? Most certainly not. Life is too short to read something you don't enjoy. Reading Twilight three times because you think you just aren't getting it? Put it down. It's not your thing. (Or it's just bad.) 
There are zillions of books out there and once you find one that 'fits'? 
There's nothing that can compare.
Here goes.

Previous Posts

100 New Things: List-o-mania

100 New Things: List-O-Mania

Sometimes (or in my case, always) The New Year rolls around and you think, 'Damn. What did I even do this year? Did I accomplish anything? Did anything change? I am going to be this boring and this lonely forever.' 
As you get older, that statement gets louder and angrier as you say it to yourself.

This past September I turned thirty.
THREE. ZERO. 
This is unfathomable.
That's... old.
Old people are thirty.
People with kids and mortgages are thirty. 
Thirty is halfway to sixty which is only twenty years removed from most certainly being DEAD.

And if you think on those phrases for too long, it can very quickly become a source of depression. I have no marriage prospects (or even vaguely respectable candidates), no kids (or plans to have kids) and am nowhere near the financial means to be able to afford my own home in the next few years. Society tells me I should value and strive for those things, and while I mostly disagree, it can consequently put things into an unsettling 'my life is half over' perspective.

However, it can also be a sign to yourself that you haven't caved --a fighting (and inadvertent) bucker of societal norms. I don't feel 30. Most days I feel like I'm only getting started. High school buddies on Facebook posting pictures of their now fourth kid. How is that even physically possible that you've had FOUR children since I saw you ten years ago. I feel like I only left high school. I see college kids and people barely old enough to buy a Bud Light and think, 'They're my age. We're peers!'
No. No, you're not.
You're not a 'kid' anymore, Michelle.
Get a tighter grip on reality, please. For everyone's sake.

While I do not always feel my age, I do feel that some things are getting by me. Opportunities are getting missed. Knowledge is escaping. I am wasting precious, precious time. And wasting it doing what? Catching up on Downton Abbey and scouring tumblr for unseen pictures of the adorable Ian Kinsler.
Naturally.

(He is too adorable for a grown-ass man)

My hope is that this isn't going to be yet another tired blog about someone crossing things off their Bucket List (I don't have one) or even about changing who I am (well, maybe a little). It's going to mostly be about conquering laziness. It's about avoiding regrets in not having said, tried or done something. Not worrying about doing something wrong but a worry of not doing it at all. About learning to enjoy the attempt regardless of the result and being happy with who I am now --not waiting to see if I like myself more when this list is done.

In smaller terms, this endeavor is going to be about following through --finishing what I start. I want to write more. I want to do more. Learn more. Live more. Not only do I want to experience more for myself, but to maybe even find more of myself. I guess everyone has their own Eat, Pray, Love period. Mine will happen on a smaller budget and most likely within the state lines of Texas so the only people in Hollywood likely to knock on my door for this story will work for Lifetime (and likely only if I die or contract Cancer along the way).

90% of this blog and its postings are for my own personal records. I'm hoping a blog will keep me honest, keep me accountable and, most of all, keep me motivated. If I get brave, maybe even a video or two! If people read it and enjoy it? Awesome. If not, I will have an archive of the year I decided to set goals and achieve them or die trying. No matter what happens, I will be happy in the attempt. Or that's what I'm telling myself for now.

And with that, my 100 New Things in 2013:

• Read (more) Books  
• (Classic) Films to Watch  
• Things to Learn (Spanish, for starters)
• Try (at least) 10 New Foods (that aren't alcoholic)
• Projects to Start/Finish (crafty or otherwise) 
• Places to Visit/See (local and non-local) 
• Changes to Make (Mind, Mostly Body, and Soul)
• Things to Do ('do' being the operative word) 

The list as I have it now is around 70 things total. I'll post the lists in detail one by one as I attempt to start, no doubt, with the easiest ones to achieve being posted first (lazy isn't conquered overnight). I'm leaving a bit of room to grow and modify it as I try new things (and subsequently not like them, I'm sure). Here's to hoping that I can find it in myself to do all these and more.

Cheers to 2013, ya'll.