changing tides.

september is the beginning of a lot of change for me. 

i'm not quite ready to divulge into details. 

new adventures. new people, new places. 

i'm excited. 

leaving behind the old is scary. but moving aside will help in the end.  

(i don't want to say ahead because i'm not quite sure it's a step forward)

i am honestly waiting for the first half of october to go away. 

for those painful days to pass me by. i think i'll be able to let out a sigh of relief when it's over. 

onto the next year. (even though this one isn't technically over)

i've been trying to remain centered. 

in all my hurt and grief and processing and changing and distracting

 i've found myself caught up in my own head.

 in my own heart. in all the emotions. 

it's not easy, all of this. 

i'm kind of a hippie and bought this bracelet to help me. 

people who are really into yoga and meditation wear these or the necklaces. 

i found one that speaks to my heart.

it's meaning struck a chord. 

it's not magic. but it helps. 

as i touch each bead, i'm reminded to stay focused on what's important. 

i feel centered. 

i take a step back and re-evaluate.

it took over a year, but i've found ways to feel peace. 

i've gotten excited again.

it feels good. 

**this is how i feel when i hold a baby. wherever you are baby, you have no idea how much love awaits you. 

***i know how i blog now probably seems odd. but it's the only way to get the thoughts out, and i like it.

dog days of summer.

it's august.

the month when i think to myself "wait, where did summer go?"

hold on summer, stick around a little longer!

there's so much i want to do!

but, here we are. summer is ending. 

i feel the pressure even more because my summer session at work is in its final week. 

then just 2 weeks off. 

then it's back to the normal routine. 

whoa.

i guess i should give a little summer update, right?

i mean little. 

i can't possibly talk all about my entire summer in this post. 

first, no one cares. 

second, it would be too long. 

let's just say it was full of hot days, projects, good food and baby smiles. 

oh baby smiles, how you melt my heart.

  

blueberry picking with special girls. they made this summer so sweet, and filled a hole in my heart. 

nieces are a precious gift. so is a kind sister-in-law i am so lucky to have.

farm fresh ice cream. farm fresh fruits and veggies bought in the town i love.

sweet snuggles from the sweetest girl. i miss her.

most of my precious family. how i miss the days when we all lived so close. 

new ink. i want more.

still to come: a much needed week of relaxing with my love. 

i can't wait.

i want to post here more, too. 

more about life. 

more about health. 

i'll try.

him.

i'm alone a lot. probably more than i have the treasured company of my husband.

he works a lot. sometimes, he comes home when i'm brushing my teeth to go to bed. i sleepily smile at him and say hello while i wash my face. i try so hard to stay awake to talk to him, and most of the time i'm successful.

i have a lot of time to clean our house, to pin silly pictures and to think. i spend so much time just simply thinking. so much time that i am completely baffled when he tells me that there's a lot of times where he's thinking "nothing". how does someone think nothing? but i appreciate that. i appreciate the ability to have a calm mind and just be.

in this thinking, i think about us. i think about him. i think about what he sees. how he feels. how lucky i am.

sometimes i wish i could see what he sees, and feel what he feels. to go back in time and relive all of our moments and see if i've missed anything. missed a look, a smile, the way he's so calm and happy. i would happily relive all of our good and our bad times, because in the end it means that even though it's 11pm on a wednesday and i'm climbing into bed and he's just coming home, at least he's home. and i'm his.

being chosen.

recently i have had a change of thinking on this whole baby thing. ever since we started on this new road of loss, pain, sadness, hoping, testing and waiting in our baby journey, i've been trying to figure out what it will be like from here on out. what happens if my body can't carry a baby? am i meant to do something else? how will we get our baby?

but then, something changed. instead of thinking about it in a way that means that i'm getting my baby, i began to think about this beautiful baby choosing me.

our baby is "out there" somewhere. she's waiting (yes, i like to think/hope our baby is a girl) for us. she's waiting for the perfect moment to come into our lives and change us forever.

maybe she'll come by being carried by another woman who ben and i choose to carry her for us. maybe she'll be made and brought into this world by a different mama, but we will be hers.

she chooses us. someday, somehow a baby will choose me to be her mama and she will choose ben to be her dad.

this helps, this thinking. this reminds me that the gift of a baby is just that, a gift. i will be the luckiest woman in the world to be chosen to be someone's mama. it reminds me to be patient. it reminds me that life takes twists and turns, but out of the horrible parts (and there have been many of those), there are great gifts.

we're waiting, baby. whenever you're ready.

labeled.

let's talk about labels.

no, not the kinds you stick on baskets and bins to keep yourself organized. the kind that people like to assign to other people so they can fit them in some little box (yes, it's about to get real "hippie" up in here).

i hate them. i fight against them. do not label me. i call myself a hippie sometimes because of this, but even then something inside me is twitching.

i will never register with any political party and have no desire to.

i don't identify with any one religion/belief system and have no desire to.

i am moderately feminist. but i don't even think feminism should be a term and i would cringe at the thought of being called one.

i'm a vegetarian. but someday i might not be. and i don't like how that translates to "picky eater" for most people. i just say "i don't like meat."

see a trend here? luckily i have a husband who loves this about me, and while he may laugh sometimes and not really understand why i'm so label-aversive at least he appreciates it. he is not so opposed to labels, by the way. which i can appreciate and even understand. it might make life easier for some people.

but me? none.

i am a person. a woman. a wife. a friend. a sister. (and okay, maybe a hippie) label me that way. but do not confine me to anything else.

i will say that i don't care if other people label themselves as anything, align them to certain groups/religions etc. I'm all about whatever makes you happy and doesn't hurt anyone.

linked.

i read these 9 insights this weekend and it really struck me. some things i had already heard, one thing i didn't agree with at all (i don't know where i stand on the last point about suffering, i have to think about it more), and the rest are things that got me thinking.

i know the website the link is from might be a little odd to some, but i kind of liked reading some other things on it. i am a thinker. not compulsively like that 9 insights says. but truly, i am always aware of what i am doing, how i am acting and thinking about how this may be perceived, why i'm doing it, etc (this does not mean i always make the best choices). i am always thinking. it's a blessing and a curse. sometimes ben will exclaim "who thinks about that?!" me. i think about "that" ("that" referring to many different topics that at times i discuss).

i know it's only monday, but maybe it will kick the week off right!

happenings.

here's what's going on around here:

-i'm currently pissed off that f*ing snooki is having a baby but i have to get tests because i can't. yes, i'm whining about a stupid "famous" person. don't judge me.

-i got a card in the mail today. it was a "just because" card. i cried. i think it might be the nicest thing that has happened to me this year. people don't send mail anymore. especially people who only live up the street. i am so blown away by this act of kindness and so thankful. it just goes to show what a few minutes writing a card and mailing it can do for someone going through something tough.

-speaking of crying, i've become this overly-sensitive emotional disaster. is this what my life has become? i cry at random moments. sometimes in public. sometimes when ben is asleep and i'm still awake and i feel like an idiot. i need to get over myself.

-it was 60 degrees today. it made my heart happy. i hate winter. snow, you can melt anytime now.

-we finally bought a table to eat at. but it's too tall. so, i'm forcing ben to cut down the legs to make it the right height. no, i'm not really forcing ben but he will do it. because he knows that happy wife=happy life and his wife isn't happy with a table that's too tall.

-2 kids [students] went home today with the stomach bug. 1 kid was crying and gagging and we thought he would go home. 2 kids were out already because of the stomach bug. super. thanks, kids.

-i can't do these photoaday things. i don't like being confined to rules. i do what i want. i'll take a picture when i feel like it. take that, you photoaday trend. i've thought about just picking and choosing which photo days i like and taking the pictures for them when i feel like it. you know, for inspiration. but doing it my own way. because that's how i do things.

-i should do a blog post all about how i don't like rules or being told what to think/what i should do, etc. i think it's [part of] why i don't like [any] religion, why i'm a feminist [but i don't like being labeled], and why i had some problems with college. i like learning, but i hate lectures & having to go to classes that have boring lectures that regurgitate what i just read--i'll have you know i did well in college though, i'm intelligent but i wanted to do things my own way. maybe i'm really just a hippie.

that gene some people have.

you know how some people just don't want kids?

well, i just don't want a house. am i missing some important gene?

honestly, i dream of living in an old apartment forever. i don't even care if i own it. i think we'll only own a house because ben has this idea that it's important. and, well, a brownstone in boston is a little out of our price range right now. but maybe someday it won't be.

{isn't it just beautiful? who needs a house?}

{have you seen keri russell's brownstone? to die for}

not to mention, there is only one style of house i would settle for and that's a craftsman bungalow. but, i'm picky about how it would need to look and what it would need to be like. and well, we'd have to build because this is new england and everyone has a colonial. it all sounds exhausting. 

just give me my apartment in downtown boston. i'd be a happy girl. 

let's try this again.

{march 1: UP}

this photo didn't capture the snowflakes falling like i would have liked, but i tried several times and couldn't make it work. iphones don't have the best cameras in the world. i took this photo standing on my deck, so that's not my house. 

hopefully i'll be better this time around with taking pictures, and maybe march will be better to me than february was. 

blog? is that you?

oh, hello.

i haven't been writing because i am finding it hard to fake something happy to write about.  no, i'm not depressed. life just isn't dripping with rainbows and unicorns right now.

i've been spending too much time thinking and figuring out where i go from here. what does life look like? what will life look like? what should life look like? what do i want life to look like?

will there be kids? am i really grieving, and if i am, where am i in that process? i don't think the grieving process is something where you move through all the steps in order. i think most days i've accepted it (the losses), other days i'm depressed, other days i'm in complete denial, and others i'm completely pissed off and i hate every pregnant person. and, if we're being honest here, there are (very few) days i'm relieved. i hate thinking that. i hate saying that. but i'm learning so much and that wouldn't have happened without this horrible thing happening to me (twice).

the only thing i wonder is when that is all over. will it just become something i'm not sad about anymore? is this what "real" grief is like? i say real because it's not like i ever met these babies. i think there's something extremely different between a baby you've had around for 5 weeks and a person you've had around for 5 years so i don't know if i consider this real grief (which i've never experienced). will it become something i just causally mention in 10 years? it seems weird to me now. maybe i'm just being dramatic.

* * * * * * * * * * 

i've started doing things (or not doing them) because i want to (or because i don't want to). mostly the not and the don't are what's happening.

if i don't want to write here, then who cares. i don't want this thing to be popular anyway. i'm shy, that's too much work.

i don't think i'm opening an etsy shop. why? because i don't want to spend the time telling people about it and plugging it. i tend to shy away from things that are popular or that lots of people are doing because i don't like being in the midst of a whirlwind or a party. opening an etsy shop is like a big party everyone is going to, and i don't want to go if too many people are going. i'm anti-social like that.

and again, i'm shy. i'd have to talk to strangers and tell them about this thing i'm doing and then there's too much pressure for it to be perfect, and i want it to be unique and not too trendy. then there's blogs and twitter, and ugh. it all sounds exhausting to me. am i lame? i think i'm lame. or i'm just not a saleswoman. i teach children. they don't require any selling to. persuasion to learn letters? yes. but i don't need to sell to them.

so, i'll make stuff for me. if you want to see it, i'll show you. maybe in the future i'll open an etsy shop and tell no one. i'll just see if people magically buy things.


that's all for now. i'm done whining. happy tuesday!

how not having a baby has motivated me.

i've tried 2 times to have a baby.

2 times i've witnessed my body fail me as i lost the baby.

2 times i was sad (the second time was worse).

but now, i'm motivated. i'm sure this seems odd, so let me explain.

when you're trying to have a baby, there's things you just don't do. there are plans you put off because you're pregnant and well, your life is about kids now.

then, you lose a baby and your life is about you again. i think there are things i've been waiting to do, or just not doing because i knew that a baby would be in my future and i was already reshaping my life for that baby.

well, 2 times later, i don't have a baby. so i've been drinking, eating horrible food (rarely), not taking vitamins, jumping around, working out, lifting heavy things and making plans.

i'm not revolving my life around this anymore. if i can't have kids, i'll get a dog.

if i have the one child i want, then my dreams will have come true and it will be the best thing.

but for now i'm going to drink margaritas, go on trips, buy things for myself, and go out more.

sometimes i feel selfish and shallow. and maybe this is just really a part of grief and i'm in denial.

so what.

if buying clothes and planning beach trips makes me happy right now, so be it. i can't feel sorry for myself and i can't spend all my time angry or sad. i need to live my life.

no, i'm not going to stop trying to have a baby.

but i'm not going to stop trying to be better either. someday, i'll think i'll be thankful for this. right now, it still sucks. and my longing for a child has not changed. i get sad, extremely jealous, angry, and fearful.

but just like everything else in my life, i have to stay positive. hopefully it helps.

ramblings.

it's friday and i'm rambling because it's all i have left. if you want a better post you're on the wrong blog today!

i love our new home. i know we'll be here for several years (as many years as we can be) and i love that feeling.

the moment we moved in it felt like home. granted, we have no furniture and we have a lot to do but i already feel like this is my home. it's not just a place i'm renting. it's cozy and lived in.

i've been so busy recovering from a personal loss and from all that comes with packing up all of our belongings and moving them somewhere else that i haven't had time to write out any of my thoughts.

i haven't had time to even think about taking pictures. i want to, but i just haven't. i think it's a good practice for me so i'm going to keep trying but i'm not going to hold myself to something.

i've been too busy figuring out where we're going to buy a couch from.

i've been wondering when we'll get a kitchen table so i can stop eating dinner from the couch.

i've been wondering if i'll ever have a baby.

i've been wondering why it's been so difficult for me so far in this baby journey.

i'd like one life event to go off without a hitch.

i'm thinking i need to stop having a pity party for myself and get a grip. maybe i will have a baby, or maybe i'll just have a dog. i need to start thinking about the reality of the situation and stop being so whiny. it's time to start thinking of what the future could look like. (it's not like i've given up hope, people. but i'm a realist.)

i'm thinking that i have no excuse not to put my creative energy to work. i need to start doing some stuff now that i have a lovely home and space to work!

more thoughts to come and maybe even a picture or two if i'm feeling generous.

insert day 3 photo here.

i'm not doing a photo today. it's not a good day. at all. i'm taking a break from writing down my thoughts.

tomorrow maybe i'll be in the mood to post. we're finally moving!

words. {day 2.}

{words: starbucks.}

i know it's only one word, but this word helped me get through my day. 

sometimes work gets a little too stressful and i just need to leave the building. so, at lunch time i go down the street and get a starbucks drink. for about fifteen minutes i forget i'm even at work. 

i got a soy hot chocolate, in case anyone cares :)

my view.

in february i'm going to try to do this trendy photo-a-day thing. we'll see how good i am at remembering. 

{my view: packing to move.}

we move in 3 days! i have so much to do and this is a very small portion of my living room that is being taken over by boxes. i can't wait to be done with this and in our new place!

weekend.

i had a great weekend. one of the best i've had in awhile. this post would be better if i had pictures but i just didn't remember to take any because i was having so much fun.

on friday i went to a friend's house to celebrate her birthday. we laughed. a lot. we ate delicious food, but mostly, we laughed. there were no deep conversations, but we didn't need them. it's been a long time since all of us were together and it was such a great feeling to be together again. some friends from out of town stopped by, but mostly it was just us girls.

i love girl time. i've always loved it but as i've gotten older and once i got married i appreciate that girl time so much more. we understand each other as women, and we can talk about our marriages, plans, hopes, and dreams. we don't need to do a whole lot when we're together because the time together is the important part.

i'm so thankful for these friends and looking forward to the next time we get together.

remembering loss.

be prepared.

this is about to get really heavy. and probably sad. if you don't like sad heavy blog posts, then please go back to doing what you were before you stumbled here. i'm guessing it was pinterest. go look at happy pictures of kitchens and things you want to diy because you'll find none of that here. but, if you don't mind one heavy & sad post, then stick around.

because really, i'm doing this for me (and it isn't easy). there are many things i will not share here on this blog (or even in this post). for every 1 detail i reveal about myself there are probably 1,000 things i keep a secret. i'm like this in person, too.

but this loss, this story is something i think belongs out here. maybe someone can stumble upon it and relate.

maybe they'll know someone who went through this pain and they can read this.

or, maybe i'm just sharing my heart and it's a release for me to write this here.

*****

in november 2011, i found out i was pregnant.

it was a happy moment. happy, but scary.

then, in december 2011 i watched in shock as my body failed me. the baby died.

the experience is physically, emotionally, and mentally very painful.

it's isolating.

i have a husband who was of course saddened by this, but his body wasn't holding anything. his body didn't experience the death.

mine did.

for weeks i was on a ridiculous emotional roller coaster.

some days i would cry on and off for hours. some days, i would be fine.

sometimes someone would say something completely innocent that would remind me of my loss and i would feel it again.

sometimes people said things like "well, it won't happen again." or "maybe it wasn't meant to be" or "you'll be fine" innocent sayings that were like a knife to my heart.

innocent sayings by people who didn't know, who would say things like "well when you start having kids…" ouch. pain. reminders.

it's january 2012.

sometimes, i feel sad still. mostly, i have this awareness of life and fragility and control that i didn't have before. i appreciate the process of becoming a mother. my baby may have died, but i was a mother. am a mother. i am different.

the next time, i will feel immediate apprehension. i already do, and it isn't the next time yet. i'm already too scared to get excited at even the possibility again someday.

this could happen again.

maybe it won't. but it could.

but for now, i'm okay. i remember, but i look forward. i am aware, i am sensitive, i am learning.

learning.

if you need to find me, i'll be spending my free time getting some awesome free education.

have you explored itunes U?

what about khan academy?

there was something about going to class in college that i never liked. but, i love learning (this is probably why finishing my bachelor's online worked so well for me).

i have been listening to/watching lectures non-stop for the past few days.

TED talks is also good, too.

do i sound like a nerd yet?

rory.

a few weeks ago i stumbled across the rory gilmore reading challenge. it's the list of all the books she reads in gilmore girls, and some women (people?) are trying to go through the whole list.

it seems crazy. but i'm tempted to read this list. it's full of classics, and i love the classics.

here is the crazy long list: oh p.s. it will take you 5 minutes to scroll through.
the ones that are crossed out are ones that i've read. ones that are italic are ones that i'm in the process of reading.


1984 by george orwell
the adventures of huckleberry finn by mark twain
alice in wonderland by lewis carroll
the amazing adventures of kavalier & clay by michael chabon
an american tragedy by theodore dreiser
angela’s ashes by frank mccourt
anna karenina by leo tolstoy
anne frank: the diary of a young girl by anne frank
archidamian war by donald kagan
the art of fiction by henry james
the art of war by sun tzu
as i lay dying by william faulkner
atonement by ian mcewan
autobiography of a face by lucy grealy
the awakening by kate chopin
babe by dick king-smith
backlash: the undeclared war against american women by susan faludi
balzac and the little chinese seamstress by dai sijie
bel canto by ann patchett
the bell jar by sylvia plath
beloved by toni morrison
beowulf: a new verse translation by seamus heaney
the bhagava gita
the bielski brothers: the true story of three men who defied the nazis, built a village in the forest, and saved 1,200 jews by peter duffy
bitch in praise of difficult women by elizabeth wurtzel
a bolt from the blue and other essays by mary mccarthy
brave new world by aldous huxley
brick lane by monica ali
bridgadoon by alan jay lerner
candide by voltaire
the canterbury tales by chaucer
carrie by stephen king
catch-22 by joseph heller
the catcher in the rye by j. d. salinger
charlotte’s web by e. b. white
the children’s hour by lillian hellman
christine by stephen king
a christmas carol by charles dickens
a clockwork orange by anthony burgess
the code of the woosters by p.g. wodehouse
the collected short stories by eudora welty
the collected stories of eudora welty by eudora welty
a comedy of errors by william shakespeare
complete novels by dawn powell
the complete poems by anne sexton
complete stories by dorothy parker
a confederacy of dunces by john kennedy toole
the count of monte cristo by alexandre dumas père
cousin bette by honor’e de balzac
crime and punishment by fyodor dostoevsky
the crimson petal and the white by michel faber
the crucible by arthur miller
cujo by stephen king
the curious incident of the dog in the night-time by mark haddon 
daughter of fortune by isabel allende
david and lisa by dr theodore issac rubin m.d
david copperfield by charles dickens
the da vinci -code by dan brown
dead souls by nikolai gogol
demons by fyodor dostoyevsky
death of a salesman by arthur miller
deenie by judy blume
the devil in the white city: murder, magic, and madness at the fair that changed america by erik larson
the dirt: confessions of the world’s most notorious rock band by tommy lee, vince neil, mick mars and nikki sixx
the divine comedy by dante
the divine secrets of the ya-ya sisterhood by rebecca wells
don quijote by cervantes
driving miss daisy by alfred uhrv
dr. jekyll & mr. hyde by robert louis stevenson
edgar allan poe: complete tales & poems by edgar allan poe
eleanor roosevelt by blanche wiesen cook
the electric kool-aid acid test by tom wolfe
ella minnow pea: a novel in letters by mark dunn
eloise by kay thompson
emily the strange by roger reger
emma by jane austen
empire falls by richard russo
encyclopedia brown: boy detective by donald j. sobol
ethan frome by edith wharton
ethics by spinoza
europe through the back door, 2003 by rick steves
eva luna by isabel allende
everything is illuminated by jonathan safran foer
extravagance by gary krist
fahrenheit 451 by ray bradbury
fahrenheit 9/11 by michael moore
the fall of the athenian empire by donald kagan
fat land: how americans became the fattest people in the world by greg critser
fear and loathing in las vegas by hunter s. thompson
the fellowship of the ring: book 1 of the lord of the ring by j. r. r. tolkien
fiddler on the roof by joseph stein
the five people you meet in heaven by mitch albom
finnegan’s wake by james joyce
fletch by gregory mcdonald
flowers for algernon by daniel keyes
the fortress of solitude by jonathan lethem
the fountainhead by ayn rand
frankenstein by mary shelley
franny and zooey by j. d. salinger
freaky friday by mary rodgers
galapagos by kurt vonnegut
gender trouble by judith butler
george w. bushism: the slate book of the accidental wit and wisdom of our 43rd president by jacob weisberg
gidget by fredrick kohner
girl, interrupted by susanna kaysen
the gnostic gospels by elaine pagels
the godfather: book 1 by mario puzo
the god of small things by arundhati roy
goldilocks and the three bears by alvin granowsky
gone with the wind by margaret mitchell
the good soldier by ford maddox ford
the gospel according to judy bloom
the graduate by charles webb
the grapes of wrath by john steinbeck
the great gatsby by f. scott fitzgerald
great expectations by charles dickens
the group by mary mccarthy
hamlet by william shakespeare
harry potter and the goblet of fire by j. k. rowling
harry potter and the sorcerer’s stone by j. k. rowling
a heartbreaking work of staggering genius by dave eggers
heart of darkness by joseph conrad
helter skelter: the true story of the manson murders by vincent bugliosi and curt gentry
henry iv, part i by william shakespeare
henry iv, part ii by william shakespeare
henry v by william shakespeare
high fidelity by nick hornby
the history of the decline and fall of the roman empire by edward gibbon
holidays on ice: stories by david sedaris
the holy barbarians by lawrence lipton
house of sand and fog by andre dubus iii
the house of the spirits by isabel allende
how to breathe underwater by julie orringer
how the grinch stole christmas by dr. seuss
how the light gets in by m. j. hyland
howl by allen gingsburg
the hunchback of notre dame by victor hugo
the iliad by homer
i’m with the band by pamela des barres
in cold blood by truman capote
inferno by dante
inherit the wind by jerome lawrence and robert e. lee
iron weed by william j. kennedy
it takes a village by hillary clinton
jane eyre by charlotte brontë
the joy luck club by amy tan
julius caesar by william shakespeare
the jumping frog by mark twain
the jungle by upton sinclair
just a couple of days by tony vigorito
the kitchen boy: a novel of the last tsar by robert alexander
kitchen confidential: adventures in the culinary underbelly by anthony bourdain
the kite runner by khaled hosseini
lady chatterleys’ lover by d. h. lawrence
the last empire: essays 1992-2000 by gore vidal
leaves of grass by walt whitman
the legend of bagger vance by steven pressfield
less than zero by bret easton ellis
letters to a young poet by rainer maria rilke
lies and the lying liars who tell them by al franken
life of pi by yann martel
little dorrit by charles dickens
the little locksmith by katharine butler hathaway
the little match girl by hans christian andersen
little women by louisa may alcott
living history by hillary rodham clinton
lord of the flies by william golding
the lottery: and other stories by shirley jackson
the lovely bones by alice sebold
the love story by erich segal
macbeth by william shakespeare
madame bovary by gustave flaubert
the manticore by robertson davies
marathon man by william goldman
the master and margarita by mikhail bulgakov
memoirs of a dutiful daughter by simone de beauvoir
memoirs of general w. t. sherman by william tecumseh sherman
me talk pretty one day by david sedaris
the meaning of consuelo by judith ortiz cofer
mencken’s chrestomathy by h. r. mencken
the merry wives of windsro by william shakespeare
the metamorphosis by franz kafka
middlesex by jeffrey eugenides
the miracle worker by william gibson
moby dick by herman melville
the mojo collection: the ultimate music companion by jim irvin
moliere: a biography by hobart chatfield taylor
a monetary history of the united states by milton friedman
monsieur proust by celeste albaret
a month of sundays: searching for the spirit and my sister by julie mars
a moveable feast by ernest hemingway
mrs. dalloway by virginia woolf
mutiny on the bounty by charles nordhoff and james norman hall
my lai 4: a report on the massacre and it’s aftermath by seymour m. hersh
my life as author and editor by h. r. mencken
my life in orange: growing up with the guru by tim guest
myra waldo’s travel and motoring guide to europe, 1978 by myra waldo
my sister’s keeper by jodi picoult
the naked and the dead by norman mailer
the name of the rose by umberto eco
the namesake by jhumpa lahiri
the nanny diaries by emma mclaughlin
nervous system: or, losing my mind in literature by jan lars jensen
new poems of emily dickinson by emily dickinson
the new way things work by david macaulay
nickel and dimed by barbara ehrenreich
night by elie wiesel
northanger abbey by jane austen
the norton anthology of theory and criticism by william e. cain, laurie a. finke, barbara e. johnson, john p. mcgowan
novels 1930-1942: dance night/come back to sorrento, turn, magic wheel/angels on toast/a time to be born by dawn powell
notes of a dirty old man by charles bukowski
of mice and men by john steinbeck
old school by tobias wolff
on the road by jack kerouac
one flew over the cuckoo’s nest by ken kesey
one hundred years of solitude by gabriel garcia marquez
the opposite of fate: memories of a writing life by amy tan
oracle night by paul auster
oryx and crake by margaret atwood
othello by shakespeare
our mutual friend by charles dickens  (because of LOST i really want to read this)
the outbreak of the peloponnesian war by donald kagan
out of africa by isac dineson
the outsiders by s. e. hinton
a passage to india by e.m. forster
the peace of nicias and the sicilian expedition by donald kagan
the perks of being a wallflower by stephen chbosky
peyton place by grace metalious
the picture of dorian gray by oscar wilde
pigs at the trough by arianna huffington
pinocchio by carlo collodi
please kill me: the uncensored oral history of punk legs mcneil and gillian mccain
the polysyllabic spree by nick hornby – read
the portable dorothy parker by dorothy parker
the portable nietzche by fredrich nietzche
the price of loyalty: george w. bush, the white house, and the education of paul o’neill by ron suskind
pride and prejudice by jane austen
property by valerie martin
pushkin: a biography by t. j. binyon
pygmalion by george bernard shaw
quattrocento by james mckean
a quiet storm by rachel howzell hall
rapunzel by grimm brothers
the raven by edgar allan poe
the razor’s edge by w. somerset maugham
reading lolita in tehran: a memoir in books by azar nafisi
rebecca by daphne du maurier
rebecca of sunnybrook farm by kate douglas wiggin
the red tent by anita diamant
rescuing patty hearst: memories from a decade gone mad by virginia holman
the return of the king: the lord of the rings book 3 by j. r. r. tolkien
r is for ricochet by sue grafton
rita hayworth by stephen king
robert’s rules of order by henry robert
roman holiday by edith wharton
romeo and juliet by william shakespeare
a room of one’s own by virginia woolf
a room with a view by e. m. forster
rosemary’s baby by ira levin
the rough guide to europe, 2003 edition
sacred time by ursula hegi
sanctuary by william faulkner
savage beauty: the life of edna st. vincent millay by nancy milford
say goodbye to daisy miller by henry james
the scarecrow of oz by frank l. baum
the scarlet letter by nathaniel hawthorne
seabiscuit: an american legend by laura hillenbrand
the second sex by simone de beauvoir
the secret life of bees by sue monk kidd
secrets of the flesh: a life of colette by judith thurman
selected hotels of europe
selected letters of dawn powell: 1913-1965 by dawn powell
sense and sensibility by jane austen
a separate peace by john knowles
several biographies of winston churchill
sexus by henry miller
the shadow of the wind by carlos ruiz zafon
shane by jack shaefer
the shining by stephen king
siddhartha by hermann hesse
s is for silence by sue grafton
slaughter-house five by kurt vonnegut
small island by andrea levy
snows of kilimanjaro by ernest hemingway
snow white and rose red by grimm brothers
social origins of dictatorship and democracy: lord and peasant in the making of the modern world by barrington moore
the song of names by norman lebrecht
song of the simple truth: the complete poems of julia de burgos by julia de burgos
the song reader by lisa tucker
songbook by nick hornby
the sonnets by william shakespeare
sonnets from the portuegese by elizabeth barrett browning
sophie’s choice by william styron
the sound and the fury by william faulkner
speak, memory by vladimir nabokov
stiff: the curious lives of human cadavers by mary roach
the story of my life by helen keller
a streetcar named desiree by tennessee williams
stuart little by e. b. white
sun also rises by ernest hemingway
swann’s way by marcel proust
swimming with giants: my encounters with whales, dolphins and seals by anne collett
sybil by flora rheta schreiber
a tale of two cities by charles dickens
tender is the night by f. scott fitzgerald
term of endearment by larry mcmurtry
time and again by jack finney
the time traveler’s wife by audrey niffenegger
to have and have not by ernest hemingway
to kill a mockingbird by harper lee
the tragedy of richard iii by william shakespeare
a tree grows in brooklyn by betty smith
the trial by franz kafka
the true and outstanding adventures of the hunt sisters by elisabeth robinson
truth & beauty: a friendship by ann patchett
tuesdays with morrie by mitch albom
ulysses by james joyce
the unabridged journals of sylvia plath 1950-1962 by sylvia plath
uncle tom’s cabin by harriet beecher stowe
unless by carol shields
valley of the dolls by jacqueline susann
the vanishing newspaper by philip meyers
vanity fair by william makepeace thackeray
velvet underground’s the velvet underground and nico (thirty three and a third series) by joe harvard
the virgin suicides by jeffrey eugenides
waiting for godot by samuel beckett
walden by henry david thoreau
walt disney’s bambi by felix salten
war and peace by leo tolstoy
we owe you nothing – punk planet: the collected interviews edited by daniel sinker
what colour is your parachute? 2005 by richard nelson bolles
what happened to baby jane by henry farrell
when the emperor was divine by julie otsuka
who moved my cheese? spencer johnson
who’s afraid of virginia woolf by edward albee – read
wicked: the life and times of the wicked witch of the west by gregory maguire
the wizard of oz by frank l. baum
wuthering heights by emily brontë
the yearling by marjorie kinnan rawlings
the year of magical thinking by joan didion

what a list!! i can honestly say there are books on here i won't go out of my way to read ("what color is your parachute?" for example). there are others i definitely have no interest in reading. ever. *cough harry potter and lotr cough* i know, literature lovers everywhere are crying. here's the deal: i don't like fantasy stories. the lord of the rings movies bored me to tears. i laughed at them. harry potter? no thanks. maybe if my kid begs me someday to read it to them, but otherwise, no. 

i like this list (and other book lists like this) because it reminds me of all the books that i do want to read. if only there were enough time in the day. 

maybe i should have been an english major...