9. Go to College (The Right One For You) 10. Decide on a Major in College

I'm sure I have not made the best decisions in my life. I fall under the same categories as everyone else. It's more likely that I am UNspecial, than special. And I'm sure that I am not the only person who feels that way about themselves.
However, I've learned to think of that perspective as something special in and of itself. Most people have an arrogance about them that can be obvious, or cloaked, but rather than arrogance I have an unidentified fear of confidence. I may appear confident, but just as most people do, I am not actually confident. By attending 3 different high schools I learned that in order to feel comfortable, you must appear comfortable to the people around you. People notice when you enter a new building, full of unfamiliar faces, and you don't know where to turn. The reason they notice is because it is written all over your face and body language. Now, some people might think that this is a good thing, but they are wrong! If you look like you are unfamiliar, that does not make it more likely that a stranger will come up to you and offer you a welcoming committee. In fact, it means just the opposite. If you appear unfamiliar, than people will be unfamiliar with you. Rather than thinking "oh I've never seen her before, I guess we've just never met," they will think, "that must be the new girl." The difference between the two being, either they will think that you may have something in common, like you've attended the same school for a while or, on the other hand, because they know you are the new girl, they will assume that you are invading their school with more unfamiliarities. Now, I don't mean to summarize EVERYONE, but of course this is high school I'm speaking of and whether kids intend to do it or not, most of them like to stick with what they know or think they know.

I considered this a quiet milestone in my life,  you know, understanding the need to be familiar or appear familiar. I actually became quite good at it, until I decided that the high school I graduated from was so familiar with one another (60 students per grade) that the only way to be welcome was to not be. I bonded with the people who were unwelcome, unfamiliar, and unimpressive to the other students. That was how I managed my last two years of high school, by sticking out like a cartoon character surrounded by real 3D people. It was like I was Roger Rabbit outside of Toon Town.

Normally, people would be uncomfortable with that. All of the people that I hung out with outside of school those last two years were friendships that remained from public school or boarding school. Because I was alone from 7:30am to 3pm without any friendly faces, some days I was destitute and isolated. My entire Junior year I would leave school whenever I didn't have class. Even when I wasn't supposed to I managed to get away with it. I wouldn't go out on a fantastic voyage to experience something thrilling and against parental control. I just wanted to be free. There were days when I felt as though the maroon and off-white walls were blandly seeping into my soul and becoming me. I became bland, and I blended in with everything else so much so that I could lose myself if I forgot to try not to.

There was one place at that dreaded school where I could break out without leaving the confinement of the campus. Interestingly enough, it was the guidance counselors office. I never went there for a counseling session, but I would go there with other students just to sit among judgment free people. The counselor  allowed for me to call her by her first name, Jo, which was extremely rare in the high schools I attended. Jo and I created a bond that we still connect with every so often. Because of our bond I was able to see exactly what it is she does for a job as a school psychologist. She encouraged me to do service, be honest, and help others. Parents often discipline children by saying, "I'm not angry, I'm just disappointed." Jo would award my actions through the absence of praise simply by treating me as her equal, and allowed for me to trade roles with her by being her teacher once in a while. In result of her strong encouragement and persuasion, I went on two service trips with her and my school. One was through Habitat for Humanity in West Virginia, and the other was youth work in Beuis, Romania. Both experiences lead me to the path of missionary work, of which I will be doing upon graduation with my Masters of Social Work degree.

Thanks to Jo, and other similar experiences and people along the way, I was able to decide on a major before I even decided on a college. After one stepping stone led to another, and after changing schools twice in college I have ended up at New York University, and I feel as if all of the different roads that lead me to social work are the same roads that led me here. Better late than never.


http://cityguideny.com/listingsupload/63140/0708_A460_f_SSSW_GradSchools.gif

12. Learn to Drive a Boat Myself

All my life my dad has been a boat person. It's rather annoying actually. I do not like boats. It's ironic, I don't like the ocean, or boats, yet I've grown up boating with my family, swimming in the ocean, and I was on different crew teams throughout high school. It doesn't quite make sense to me.

There are a couple reasons I could be afraid of this crap. The first reason is the game known as UNDERWATER TAG!
Since I was around 6 years-old my family has been part of a private pool club called Sudden Pitch. The cool thing to do was get the other kids together and play underwater tag, or gutter ball. Underwater tag is when if you were above water you could be tagged and you were "it." The coolest kids could hold their breath really long and go from one corner of the shallow end to the other all in one breath (those corners were the "safe" zones). Oh how I tried to be that kid. After learning to hold my breath for that long, there was an incident when my brother (3 years older and probably around 13 at the time) held his hand over my head waiting for me to come up. Obviously I didn't want to get tagged! So I stayed under water and struggled breathing since he was kind of holding me under, and when I finally came up the game was ruined for me and I cried to my mommy. This probably results in a fear of drowning.

Another reason I may be afraid of the water happened during an outing on our boat called Habiti (Arabic for my love, when directed toward a male.) We had run over a lobster trap and the line was caught in our propeller (the big fan thing that goes round and round under the boat resulting in motion.) Someone had to dive under the boat to see what was going on, to determine the damage and whether or not we had to fix it right then and there or it could wait till we got back to the dock. Well, being the youngest, the most agile, and willing, of course I had to go diving. Usually the beach and landlocked waters are warm enough for swimming, but we stopped in open waters where it felt freezing. I dove for about 15 minutes and then my parents had to take me out of the water so that I wouldn't get hypothermia. The entire ride back I laid on the couch shivering with 3 different blankets on me in the heat of summer. This probably resulted in further fear of drowning. Not to mention that looking at the bottom of a boat in open waters is kind of freaky to begin with because there are living things down there. Thank God there weren't any sharks... or worse... SEALS! haha

I also have an uncalled for fear of sharks. I used to imagine that there were sharks in the deep end of pools and I could never swim unless a grownup was there.

As a matter of fact I am terrified of things that are alive in the water touching me. My family and I were once on a beach that I was afraid to swim in because of a newspaper article the day before that said the beach was covered with jellyfish and it was unsafe. Apparently we were in the clear, but I was a kid! Have mercy on the child!
I fell asleep on the beach and my brother and dad picked me up and painstakingly dumped my in the water and I SCREAMED bloody murder and ran away.

So perhaps it was never a fear of boats, just a fear of everything surrounding boats.
Anyway, part of my process of overcoming fears is to just face them. I'm afraid of heights, so lets go up the tallest building in the world and put our foreheads against the glass. That's the kind of person I am. There are some things that I'm not afraid of but just don't desire to do them, like sky-diving... I am afraid of skydiving, but I also just don't want to do it. One of the ways I wanted to feel more comfortable on the ocean was by driving my own boat without help.
Along with our Habibti we had a smaller fishing boat called Booties. Not like asses... like foot booties you wear in cold water. Pervert.
I asked my dad to take me out to learn, and it was successful, despite the almost colliding with other boats on a regular basis.

This is a picture of a 22ft capecraft which is the boat i drove... but that is not me... and it's not my picture.

http://www.capecraftfishingboats.com/images/models/2100WA_main.jpg

 Driving a boat really fast over waves can be extremely nerve racking since you often are flying in the air and feel as though you are not in control of where the boat will land and go after it lands. Not to mention, that in the harbor you have to go slow because of the no wake zones. It sounds easier, but the boat reacts faster than you intend, and then the currents take over, not to mention the other stupid boats that ignore the no wake signs and get you caught in their waves.

Parking our boat back at the dock could have been an extremely tragic experience if my dad did not duck his head. I had to drive in and do a fast last minute sharp turn so that the bow faced the opposite way we drove in. I successfully managed the turn, so that we were so close to the boat behind where i was supposed to park.. it almost took my dad out with its dangling anchor.
I parked, and decided NEVER AGAIN. Plus I think that put my dad in a bad mood. Ruh Row.

Thank you ocean, for succcckinngggg.

Something to dance and sing to: Hello by Martin Solveig & Drogonette

8. Learn how to snowboard.

I come from a city in New Hampshire. Snow, and ice, and winter are around for about 4-6 months throughout the year. I HAVE NOTHING TO DO for those 4-6 months. Nothing besides drink hot chocolate and watch movies that I've already memorized.
I can't go swimming in the river (or I could but would prefer to avoid that challenge), I can't go for a walk without freezing, there are so many things that I cannot do. I could snowboard, ski, sled, ice skate... the only problem being that I don't know how to do any of those things. First is skiing, I don't have very good balance, and at the time of this little adventure into snow country, skiing was considered very lame. Snowboarding is cooler. Sledding... well I guess any idiot could do that, but it seemed too simple, and wasn't considered a sport that I could do with my other friends.  I tried ice skating when I was around 8 years old, but after the dreadful bunny hop lesson, I quit.

There you have it, I was left with snowboarding. My friends had tried to teach me how to snowboard here and there, but the truth is that they all got tired of waiting for me, and just wanted to go have fun. Even before that, in my middle school and early high school days, I tried snowboarding lessons. The bunny slopes were awesome, and by the time I could go down them and only fall once, the lessons were over. Following that was joining the snowboarding club at my high school. It was great! We went three days a week after school, I had all of the equipment, and the teacher HAD to teach me. FORCED by the laws of earning a paycheck.

I was getting better and was off the bunny trails! After 2 or 3 weeks of the lessons, it was my day to go on a real trail! Hurray! My bald student rep advisor who was also my snowboarding buddy took me to the top of the easiest trail at Pat's Peak in N.H.

While sitting on the lift I began to anticipate how the hell to get off of it! This big wheeling machine that carries people up the mountain is not going to stop or hold out its hand so that I can arrive at my destination safely. My teacher explained it to me but I was still panicking, and when it came time for me to gently snowboard off of the lift, I gently snowboarded directly onto my face. This small incident would later define my snowboarding career.
I popped up from my mistake, and began to follow my teacher down a slightly steep bump that would lead me to the actual trail I was to go down. The slightly steep bump wouldn't have been a problem if it wasn't covered in ice, alas resulting in a bruise directly on my right ass cheek.

Okay. Now, we were at the point where the challenge actually begins. I know how to turn, kinda. I know how to stop, and fall after. I also know how to get up after I fall. I began down the hill with my bald teacher encouraging me along the way. Shortly after feeling thrilled by the success of my motion, I then realized that I did not know how to slow down. I sped up faster and faster and began to scream and look for safe places that I could crash into on purpose to avoid hurting anyone. My teacher was hollering advice at me, probably telling me how to slow down, but at this point that was all white noise. It turns out that when I am overcome with fear I forget how to stop, fall, and/or turn. Problem.

I then, went off of a jump that happened to be in front of me. I flew into the air, and having never done that before, landed (sort of) and tumbled to the right side of the trail. That was quite the adventure. The only problem is I am still almost at the top of the trail and can't quit just yet. OH HOW I DESIRED TO QUIT! I took a deep breath, and got back up. Something unusual must have happened because when I went to use my right arm to get up I could barely hold myself. It was extremely painful, but I was getting used to pain after falling so much in my attempted snowboarding lessons. I thought that this pain, was just part of the deal so I brushed it off, and continued down the hill... and managed to fall again, of course. This time it was far less dramatic and when I went to sit up, I realized that I was in even more pain and that now I couldn't even lift my arm. I felt that there was nothing more I could do other than finish going down the trail and taking a break at the lodge afterwards. I hoped the break would last the rest of my life. At this point I couldn't tell if I was sweating, crying, or freezing. All of those things seemed to mix together. I breathed into my mouth cover and couldn't tell if my nose was running or my eyes were leaking. I felt sweaty but I was ice cold. Winter sports are so complicated.
One more time I got up, and a short while later, fell down just before the trail ended. Now I couldn't move. I'm pretty sure that the moist face mask was from crying. I thought maybe the tears were from being so cold, but it was probably because I was hurting.

Some of my classmates came over, and so did my bald teacher. He told me to walk inside the lodge and I could finally have my life long break.
It turns out God looked at me trying to snowboard, snapped his fingers and said "well, that's not gonna happen"... because as luck would have it, I dislocated my shoulder on the first fall, and relocated it on the next fall. That would probably explain my pain. At least that's what the emergency room doctor told me at 1 in the morning. The good part was, my doctors note got me out of snowboarding club for the rest of the semester. I didn't even have to go, but I still was able to get the sports credits. That's something I call, victory, sweet victory.

And so, there you have it! I will never be a winter person no matter how hard I try! I now have chronic back problems due to unrelated issues, and will most likely never be on a snowboard again. But hey! At least I gave it a shot. I don't mind being the supportive person who sits in the lodge window drinking hot chocolate and hitting on snowboard instructors. It'll be a sacrifice, but I'm cool with that.

The Beginning

1. Get married in an Orthodox Christian church. To some people this may not seem like much of a goal, but for me it lays out the future of my life after my wedding. Getting married in an Orthodox Christian Church not only tells me what kind of a person I am marrying, but it also strengthens my relationship with my religion, current, and future family. The reason being, even if my husband is not Orthodox, if he understands me well and respects and loves me, he'll know that in order for my to be happy I must be married by a priest, in a church, and our children must be my religion. Granted, there is always room for flexibility depending on the man that I fall in love with, but I'm not quite there yet.

I began to write this list of life goals in 2007. After starting the list while thinking about my future, and where I would like to end up, I began to wonder what other possibilities for major goals could be noted. And so, like the giant marshmellow thing in Ghost Busters... the list GREW! I wrote major objectives that could possibly take my entire life to pan out. Example: 5. Live until October 25, 2100. My birthday is October 25, if I live until I am 110, I will have lived in three centuries, which I think would be a major feet. Possible, yes. Predictable, no. Doable at the present time, nope. Boring... a little bit.

Veering away from goals that tended to be obscure at the present time, I decided to brainstorm ones that I would like to achieve that were much more minor, and doable. It occurred to me that in order to feel the least bit accomplished with this list, I should be getting some of this stuff done. In result, the final list of my goals ranged from 1 to 107, and I still add to it from time to time.

I like to think that this is not a bucket list. It's not like in the movies where I spend my entire day and life getting this stuff done. No. Often I even forget that I wrote them and I probably look at the list only a couple of times a year to see if I got anything done.
According to the well-equipt Urban Dictionary, bucket list has 3 definitions:
1) A list of things to do before you die. Comes from the term, "kicked the bucket."
                         I do not need to do these things before I die. The lists purpose is to remind me  
                          of things that I forget about, whether I've done them or plan to do them.
2) A "Bucket List" is a list you make with your friends of things you always say you'll do and you don't. Not before you die... just for fun.
                       That's partially right, it is just for fun... but I didn't create it with friends. Also, I
                       actually am doing most of what I wrote, so it's not something I'll say I do and then
                        don't.
3) A really bad movie where a lot of money was wasted on unnecessary CG work that is unconvincing and you can tell the actors were in front of green screens during most of the shoot.
                     Agreed, hence: not a bucket list.

Which brings me to this blog. I've decided that taking note of the goals that I achieve as I do them, or in recollection of how I did so, would be full of interesting, and sometimes audacious and provocative stories. I'm not the best writer, but this blog is all about my experiences. I obviously have a list that I'm going by, but I thought if I showed you the entire list right away it would ruin half the fun. Besides, there is so much explanation required that it would be boring and uninteresting to just go through reading everything off.

So, welcome to my blog. I hope you enjoy it, and I'll try my best to keep you interested.
No bucket lists, or stupid generic crap. This is not a movie, it's personal. Enjoy!