January: Be more present.

I'll admit it, I'm absolutely terrible at keeping my New Year's resolutions--but I know I'm not the only one. By the end of January, they're more like really good ideas that would have been cool than things I'm actually working on to make myself a better human. 

That said, I wanted to go into this year with goals for myself, because #newyearnewme, right? But rather than making a list of things I was likely to forget or abandon in the next 31 days, I made a list of 12 things I wanted to work on, and assigned each one a month. 

Now, I'm sure that approximately 0% of you people reading this actually care, but this is my way of being accountable: my place to record what I'm doing, how I did it, and how it worked. So read away, or don't. You choose. ;) 

January: Be More Present

I'm a ridiculously sentimental person. I hate deleting photos and emails, I mark big events or my favorite memories in my planner (and then keep those planners forever), and I just barely (we're talking two weeks ago) threw away all  some of the notes and letters from when I was in JUNIOR HIGH. 

It's my way of remembering the "important" things, despite my terrible memory. 

As I was cleaning up my inbox + camera roll + messages over Christmas break however, I realized just how unnecessary all of that was. 

I'm going to remember the truly important things, even if I don't have 15 screenshots of texts about it saved on my phone. 

And then Dumbledore reminded me that "it does not do to dwell on dreams and forget to live" and I realized that daydreams fell into that category and dwelling on the past wasn't helping my future. 

So for January, I'm going to work on being more present. More appreciative of the here & now rather than ultra-nostalgic for the then & there. 

For me, that meant deleting the dozens of screenshots of texts that weren't important + 4-year-old text conversations with people I haven't spoken to in months because "there's some good stuff in there," clearing my inbox of two years worth of emails that I poured my Monday mornings into, and getting rid of things that had meant a lot to me once upon a time but were nothing more than trinkets with a touch of nostalgia that were cluttering my desk + the top of my dresser. 

The important things will always be there--and that's true for every part of life. 

There's just so much good happening right now that I don't want to miss a single second of it because I was caught up in what was instead of what is.

Master Oogway said it best. "Yesterday is history. Tomorrow is a mystery. Today is a gift; that is why it is called the present." 

The One Where I Get on an Election Soapbox.

For starters, I am not thrilled about the way this election played out. I would not have been thrilled if it had gone the other way. I couldn't vote for either of the candidates in good conscience, for a variety of reasons that, frankly, are completely irrelevant now, as the future looms in front of us.

Elections, particularly those of a presidential nature, bring out the worst in everybody.

"Everybody is entitled to their own opinion," we say, with a muttered "but your's is wrong and I'm right" following closely behind it. 

Insults are thrown left and right in an attempt to "agree to disagree" and "explore the other side!" 

Here's the thing. 

Anger-fueled remarks are less than likely to convince somebody to see things your way. 

Removing people from your social media feed because you don't agree with them makes you as closed to their viewpoints as you accuse them of being to yours. 

To those of you that are "scared," this is not the first time a leader who doesn't support your personal beliefs has been elected, and it certainly won't be the last. 

To those of you that are "angry," you can't win them all. If you were happy with election results all of the time, someone would feel like you do all of the time. Think about it. 

To those of you wondering "how will I teach my kids about hatred, racism, bigotry, after this election," you should do it as you would if things had gone differently. You have a more direct influence over your children than anyone in the White House will--so change your house. 

To those of you that are "ashamed," you should be, of yourselves. Yes, this was an ugly race, and (at least in my eyes) neither of the candidates were good options--but that should not make you ashamed to be an American. Just because you don't agree with something does not make it shameful. Our country was built on innovation, progress, and change--and this presidential term will be a continuation of those. Change is not easy. It's not comfortable. And it's not something we agree with all of the time. But your reaction to this change says more about you than it does about the change itself. 

The President of the United States does not have any easy job, and that's without factoring in the reality that half of the country, and maybe more, hates them and everything they stand for. 

You may not agree with who is in office, but the office deserves your respect, as long as you are an American citizen enjoying the freedoms and liberties that come along with it. 

I may not be thrilled with the way things turned out--but I am grateful I have the ability to speak my frustrations, enact change, and live how I wish...and I'm still proud to be an American. 

Personal time machine.

*shuffle songs*

A couple chords, the all too familiar "oh, her eyes, her eyes" and it's junior year all over again, from the front seat of a blue Mazda listening to the boy you like talk about hockey and tease you about failing AP Biology on our way to another hockey game.

*skip*

"Some songs will always be better live," you think as What if You Don't comes on and you and your best friend are hearing it for played live for the first time and you get the same goosebumps you did then.

*skip*

It's the one you played on repeat the night he broke your heart.

*skip*

It's the middle of August, but Jay Z and JT will always feel like the Fourth of July and pulling into Huntsville with Nan and Hillary after Holy Grail played on the radio for the first time.

*skip*

Jon Mclaughlin sings "You're in my arms, and all the world is calm" and that same boy is dancing you around the parking lot in the rain and those three minutes and 52 seconds are the sweetest thing your 17-year-old self has ever seen and six years later you hope he's happy.

*skip*

"Tonight! Tonight! There's a party on the rooftop, top of the world" and you crack a smile that's partially a wince because this one feels like running 11 miles and you'd like to get it over with.

*skip*

A foreign rhythm starts playing and now it's 3 am on the Devil's Backbone and you and your best friends have your Pussycat Dolls parts down cold and can perform them on demand months later even though you still don't really know what "Jai ho" or "Baila baila" mean.

*skip*

You laugh out loud when Enrique tells you he can be your hero because you remember the boy who sang this one to you over the phone when you were in ninth grade.

*skip*

It's the one you played the night you broke his heart.

*skip*

Your hidden love for Avril Lavigne doesn't hide very well while you yell about how you still think you would have been a better girlfriend, despite the fact that you were in 8th grade then and being his girlfriend probably would have made it hard for him to still be your friend after almost 15 years.

*skip*

You catch your breath as the Dirty Guv'nahs sing about meeting her halfway to Birmingham because those words feel like leaving what you love, and when Spotify put it on your Year in Review as a "You ventured into the unknown with this track," you couldn't help but think that's exactly what it had felt like when you met the boy who showed it to you.

*skip*

A new favorite comes on, with lyrics you can't sing all the way yet and key changes you don't quite know and you let this one play through, because right now, it's just a song, not yet a part of the time machine.