I’m not normally one to buy into the hoopla of New Year’s resolutions. The year may increment, but resolutions just seem to add unnecessary punctuation to the natural flow of my life, so I’ve never been a big fan. BUT, with that opening sentiment, I’m sure you’ve guessed that this year, I’m jumping on the bandwagon and setting some goals to achieve in 2012. So, here they are. My less than exciting and incredibly cliche resolutions for 2012:

1. Learn to play the Ukulele. My mom once told me that I wasted my natural musical talent by pursuing soccer over the many instruments I dabbled in when I was younger. So, I bought a ukulele.
2. Lose weight. GASP! What American doesn’t have this on their list? Truth be told, this has been a goal for awhile, and I’m already down 5 lbs. The goal is 30 more by April 18th. I think 3 months of boot camp will certainly be helpful…
3. Read more. 
4. Spend more time outside. I live in a beautiful city, but I often spend gorgeous afternoons barricaded in my room, crippled by my decisions from the night before. 
5. Write more. Short stories, poetry, blog entries, Yelp reviews: anything and everything.

My grandfather passed away in May of 2011. I never really talked a lot about it because it affected me, and continues to affect me, more than I care to admit to my friends. My grandpa Zane was always my #1 fan, and always the man who convinced me I could do anything I wanted without saying a word. I played ASA softball from age ~9-14. The competition level, my skill, the games: that’s not what stuck in my mind from those 5 years. I actually remember very few specific plays from that time. 

What I do remember? My grandpa. At every. single. game. Sitting in that spot between the dugout and the bleachers. It didn’t matter how well or poorly we were doing: he was always there. And he always had one of those cheesy buttons that had my softball photo from our team photo shoot on it. Even when I chose soccer over softball, he would still come to games that were close to Manson. I still remember the first high school soccer game I played in Fort Dodge (about an hour from Manson, where my grandparents lived): my grandpa sitting between the bleachers and the goal I was guarding at the time, wearing the softball button from my U-12 softball team. He didn’t have a clue what was going on, but he was happy to be there supporting me.

I guess these silly stories might not mean as much if you don’t know other things about his life or specific details about my life with him. But, know this: Zane Meier is a fucking bad ass. And if I ever decide to have a baby (and it’s a boy), his name will be Zane. And I can only hope he’ll be half as bad ass as my Grandpa.

Christmas ‘10, which was regrettably the last Christmas I had with him, held my funniest memory: him sneaking more wine even though my Grandma told him he wasn’t allowed. He just seemed like a kid victorious over some simple 3rd grade teacher when he got a refill, which did nothing but make me smile during what would be one of our last Euchre games together.

I went home last Christmas as a last minute thing, and I’m thankful I did. But I’m also so full of regret. Had I known it was the last time I would see him, I would have said this:

Thank you for being so supportive of my sports.

Thank you for being so supportive of everyone you know.

Thank you for being the best Grandpa any girl could ever know.

Thank you for coming to my soccer games even though you wished I still played softball.

Thank you for loving me so much.

I love you so much.

And thank you for teaching me to enjoy bowling even though I’m terrible at it.

I miss you.

Sorry for such a serious tumblr post, y’all. It’s just been a long time coming.

This boring everyday situation happened to me: I found a comfortable balance of pillows to prop myself up to work on my laptop for a bit while I was home sick. Just when I got comfortable, I realized I needed to reach over and grab my power cord. There was a moment where I stopped and mourned that I had just gotten comfortable, and debated if I could go without power for just a little while longer. I decided that I might as well just get it over with because I could easily get comfortable again. Pretty boring, right?

After I finished readjusting the pillows to get comfortable again, I realized that’s what my life feels like right now. I’m so comfortable with everything about it that I can’t help but wonder if I’m complacent to make any changes to my life because I’m afraid of feeling uncomfortable for even a moment. Or if somehow, by wanting something in my life to change, I’m showing that I’m ungrateful for everything I have.

Right now, I think I’m at the place in my life where I just got comfortable, and I’m putting off moving from this space for as long as I can.

This quote from Kurt Vonnegut popped into my head yesterday, so I thought I’d post the excerpt from his book, A Man Without a Country:

Most of us, if we get married nowadays, are just one more person for the other person. the groom gets one more pal, but it’s a woman. The woman gets one more person to talk to about everything, but it’s a man.

When a couple has an argument nowadays, they may think it’s about money or power or sex or how to raise the kids or whatever. What they’re really saying to each other, though without realizing it, is this: “You are not enough people!”

I’m gonna be honest, here: I have a thing for lists. I love writing them even more than I love reading them (which is a lot). Newest list for me: Top 5 ways you know I’ve given up on life in general.

5. I use LOL! in an Interwebs post in a non-ironic way. I know that makes me sound like a hipster, but eff you. If I post “OMG guys I just got pregnant and the dad is like so cool LOL” you know I gave up.

4. I stop copyediting my posts. Yeah, I’ll make a few typos here in there (it’s the interwebs, it’s supposed to be forgiving), but if I ever write something like “Your the best friend ever way better then the last friend I had who used to like totaly eat to many potatoe chips and than be sad and kill a unikorn” you know I gave up. 

3. I post some crappy band like Nickelback’s youtube video with a comment like “LOL this vid is the best. Love these guys that lead singer is SOOOOO hot.”

2. I ever agree with anything that Bill O’Reilly says. Also under this list item, I ever SERIOUSLY post something from Fox News. Mocking posts don’t count.

1. I hate on Arrested Development. Two lists, Arrested Development at number 1 of both lists (Hatin’ on AD is my #1 Dealbreaker). This show completes me, so if I ever write something that implies I think poorly of it, you know that my life is pretty much the worst. 

I’m still kind of a betch.

There’s something about David Bazan’s voice that makes me incredibly homesick. Maybe because my Pedro the Lion love affair happened while I was still in Iowa. Maybe because I just feel like I need to feel something when I hear him. In this instance, the song Options did me in. So I started thinking (yep.. it happens) about how some songs remind me of specific events, make me feel a certain way, and how I listen to those songs when I feel that way once again. What’s about to happen in this post feels very self-aggrandizing, but hey.. it’s fun. At least for me. :) Here are the songs with the specific event (or events) of which they remind me.

Parantheses - The Blow
I can just picture Claire acting this song out from across the corner when we were working opposite carts. It just makes me want to bounce up and down and hug everyone.

This Year - The Mountain Goats

Fall on the floor crying, heartbroken, felt like my life was over sad. I used to sing “I’m gonna make it through this year if it kills me” while fighting back tears like a big ol’ baby. Now I listen to this song without crying.

Elephant Woman - Blonde Redhead
Winter in Iowa, riding a city bus at night, staring longingly out the window and looking and everything as if I were in a movie. It really did feel like I was in a movie at the time.

If You Find Yourself Caught In Love - Belle and Sebastian
I’m sure you can guess what this memory involves. Lots of uncontrollable smiles and butterflies.

What’s the Altitude - Cut Chemist
This just reminds me of Tim Hackbarth because he introduced me to this band. When I disappeared into boyfriend-land for far too long, he accepted me with open arms when I realized I was a jerk for ditching my friends.

Fa-Fa-Fa - Datarock
Training for my marathon. I used to listen to this on my weekday runs, and I couldn’t help but mouth along (and look like a total weirdo).

Solid Gold - Eagles of Death Metal
This reminds me of the lovely Katherine Beavers. When we’d work at the stand together, we’d both yell “SWEAT!” at each other in time with the song. She introduced me to the joys of this song.

I was about to list a bunch of songs with specific gyrostand memories, but instead, I’ll just make one list of them, since the memory would be something like “I listened to this a lot during work and it was on every playlist I made.”
Saves the Day - Atmosphere
Blood on our Hands - Death From Above 1979
Toxic - Britney Spears (damn, right)
Hustle Formation - The Go! Team
Pink Motorcycle Helmet - Thunderbirds are Now!

I could probably go on, but I’ll stop. Really, this just makes me want to go through old playlists and listen to what I used to listen to in my gyrostand days.