This past weekend was no exception. I had my list and forward I would go. But it didn’t end up working out that way and, surprisingly, I’m pretty sure my weekend was even better because of it.

When I woke up on Saturday, I did the few things I usually do: quick clean-up of my apartment, a trip to the gym, shower and brunch. But then, instead of working my way through my list, I looked outside my window and I realized, with absolute certainty, there was no way I could stay inside. After nearly two weeks of cold, wet, gray weather, Boston was blessed with a glorious day of near-perfection: bright blue skies, warm sun, low 70′s with a refreshing breeze. There was simply no way I could do what I had planned to do.

So I got in my car. I didn’t really know exactly where I was going until I started driving and I didn’t know exactly where I was going to end up until I parked my car and got out at the local beach. I didn’t have much with me. I didn’t bring water or extra sunscreen, sneakers or a towel in case I got wet. Strangely enough, I did think to bring my camera, but that was about it. So instead of being prepared, I just improvised.

I walked along the beach and took pictures of whatever struck my fancy. I dipped my toes into the water and picked up sea shell after sea shell. I watched a family fly kites and another build sand castles. I sat on the stone wall and simply listened to the hypnotic sound of the waves rolling in and out. I closed my eyes and soaked up the sun, as if I could somehow store it in my cells for the next rainy day.

When I got warm and thirsty, I got back in my car and started driving again, once more without any particular plan. I ended up at a farmer’s market a few towns away, where I stocked up on fruit and vegetables for the coming week and treated myself to salted caramel Pinkberry. I sat on a bench and watched people go by, some in a hurry, others walking as if they had not a trouble in the world. I didn’t check my phone to see what time it was. I didn’t worry about all the things still waiting for me at home. I just…was.

In the end, I eventually made my way home, where I pulled on clean pajamas, watched a favorite movie and fell asleep on clean sheets. While I know that every weekend won’t (and can’t) be like this, I’m reminded of how much I need more weekends like this every now and then. I need to ditch my lists and just go wherever I feel like going. I need to worry less about the things I should do and embrace more spontaneity. Considering how much I love my lists and planning, I know this will be an uphill battle, but it’s one that’s definitely worth fighting.

There are so many things I want to say and so many things I could say, but I’ll try to stick to a few salient points, the first being: it is staggeringly arrogant to make grand, sweeping pronouncements about the reading habits and choices of a group as large and diverse as “adults.” It’s even more presumptuous to think you alone know better than someone else what that person should read, especially when you admit that you haven’t read the literature in question!

I read Stein’s article and my overall impression was that he sounded like a toddler refusing to eat his vegetables, insisting that he doesn’t like them even though he’s never tried them.  I’m sure a good case can be made that Stein was merely looking for attention with his intentionally baiting and controversial article (he’s not stupid, so I certain he knew what he was getting into), but saying and/or writing controversial things simply for the sake of getting attention is a cheap way of doing your job. Stein may truly believe the things he wrote, but it’s too easy to bash something you’ve never read. It would be more difficult, but also more illuminating, if Stein had chosen to read something like The Hunger Games knowing that he may not like it, and then written about that experience.

(As a side note, not all the “adult” literature Stein lauds is good. I’ve read some really crappy “adult” novels that are nowhere near as excellent as some YA novels. Of course, good and bad is all relative, but adult literature does not automatically and universally equal good and YA literature does not automatically and universally equal bad. Like anything else in life, there are varying degrees and multiple shades of gray.)

But let’s put aside the fact that Stein is, essentially, engaging in reader shaming and the fact that reader shaming says more about the person doing the shaming than about the reader. Did Stein not even consider the practical problems with his opinion? If he truly thinks that adults should only read adult novels, what does he suggest those working with young adult literature read? What should a middle or high school teacher do, if they aren’t supposed to read the YA novels they want to teach in their classes? What about all the college and graduate school students studying library science and specializing in children’s and teen library services? Are they not supposed to read the very books they will one day order for a library? God help the actual librarians themselves! And the booksellers! They’re apparently going to have to remain in the dark about YA literature and shrug cluelessly when a patron asks them for recommendations or suggestions. And you can just forget about those parents who want to read with their children and share stories. They will just have to wait until their little darlings grow up.

It’s clear Stein doesn’t actually know what he’s talking about, so I’m frankly more annoyed with his sexist assertion that we should leave “tween girls” to “have their own little world of vampires and child wizards and games you play when hungry.” WTF, Joel Stein? W. T. F?

Let’s get a few things straight. First, “tweens” are not just girls; it’s an age group, not a gender (though I will admit that it refers to girls more often than boys). Secondly, boys read books too. Harry Potter was even an actual boy, albeit a fictional one. And since he mentions it by name, I’ll say that The Hunger Games always struck me as being fairly gender-neutral. It’s frustratingly sexist of Stein to assume that young adult literature must mean females, as if all of YA novels were meant solely for girls. I can understand why it might look that way on the surface (and, yes, girls and teens are a large target audience for YA authors), but the YA genre (and really, I think of YA as more of a point of view than a genre, but that’s a post for another time) is just as wide-ranging and diverse as “adult” literature.

Stein must really not read books often, because I can name several “adult” books off the top of my head that include “little worlds of vampires and child wizards” (the Sookie Stackhouse series, Justin Cronin’s The Passage, and Lev Grossman’s The Magicians, just to name a few). Heck, just last week, I saw an older gentlemen who looked to be around my father’s age reading Catching Fire on the train. He actually missed his stop because he was so engrossed in the story. Imagine that! A grown man, reading a supposedly “girly” young adult novel. Will wonders never cease?

I’ve written before about my frustration with the world’s seemingly insatiable need to judge people based on the books they read as well as they’re apparent overwhelming desire to force readers into easily defined categories based on gender and age. I’m so tired of all this reader shaming. Joel Stein could not be more wrong. I doubt he’ll ever admit that, but I know it. I hope you know it. And maybe, eventually, a few other people will know it too. Then we can slowly but surely move away from all this hoopla over what we read and instead just be happy that we’re reading at all.

[cross-posted to The Librarian Next Door]

Since there are twice as many items this time, I won’t go into detail about why each item is on the list, though I will say that there’s a wide range of things on purpose. When it came time to try to write this list, I set a timer, did my best to empty my brain, and simply wrote. I tried not to think about about what I was writing, whether these things were even attainable. I just simply let myself imagine what I would want to try to do if there were no obstacles whatsoever. As a result, some are more realistic than others.

I’ve organized these 30 things into three loose categories that I’m calling “Go,” “Do” and “Learn” – the idea being that each of these things falls into at least one of those categories. Only time will tell if I’m successful this time around, but if I learned anything from my 15 Before 30 list, it was the fact that having a  list in the first place is a really great place to start.

Go

1. Go to India
2. Go to New Zealand and Australia
3. Go to Las Vegas and gamble for real
4. Go on a cross-country road-trip to Roswell, NM
5. Go on a road-trip to Prince Edward Island and see Green Gables
6. Go to Comic-Con San Diego
7. Go to Harry Potter World at Universal Studios Orlando

Do

8. See Yo-Yo Ma live in concert
9. Get a second tattoo
10. Read James Joyce’s Ulysses from start to finish
11. Watch all of AFI’s 100 Greatest Movies
12. Pick up my flute and start playing again
13. Have something I’ve written published nationally
14. Complete a standard distance triathlon
15. Pay off my graduate school loans
16. Receive a promotion at work
17. Buy a house
18. Trace my family’s roots in Ireland
19. Volunteer to campaign for a candidate / elected official
20. Sing in public
21. Swim with dolphins
22. Live outside the U.S.
23. Get to my ideal / goal weight
24. Raise $5,000 for charity

Learn

25. Learn how to salsa dance
26. Learn how to change a tire and change a car’s oil
27. Learn how to sew
28. Learn how to scuba-dive
29. Learn how to stargaze and find my Zodiac’s constellation
30. Learn (really, truly this time) fluent French

My 15 Before 30 list started as a whim, sat in a state of stasis for about a year and then took off and became something else entirely. I’ve already documented what led me to write the list in the first place and why I choose all the items on the list (those reasons can be found here: part one, part two and part three), so now it’s time to look back at the list as whole and reflect on my progress.

1. Lose weight and get into shape.
2. Go skydiving.
3. Get a tattoo.
4. Have something I’ve written published in a national magazine or newspaper.
5. Fall in love.
6. Go to India.
7. Completed
8. Become fluent in French.
9. Go to Vegas and gamble for real.
10. Learn to snowboard.
11. Go commando for a day.
12. Take a trip by myself – with no regrets.
13. Run a 5k race.
14. Raise $1,000 for breast cancer research.
15. Kiss a stranger.

Of the 15 items on my list, I can safely say I completed nine of them and sort of say that I made a valiant effort at a tenth (I’m definitely not fluent in French, but I have significantly improved my understanding of it. My pronunciation, however, remains horribly American). Whether I was challenging myself to run my first 5k race (getting in shape and losing weight in the process) or facing my irrational fear of needles by getting a tattoo, I can absolutely say that I’ve had some incredible experiences as a a result of this list – with a very permanent, very cherished tattoo to prove it. I may not have summoned the courage to kiss a stranger or found my way to Vegas and India, but I can say with absolute certainty that I do not regret the things I accomplished nor do I regret trying to accomplish the few things that ended up falling short.

A list is just a thing. It has no inherent power. But just the act of writing down these goals made me accountable in a way I hadn’t been before and then sharing this list with, essentially (thanks to the Internet), the world, I had the incentive to take charge of my life and do things I had only ever thought or dreamed about. There’s something exhilarating about doing the things you say you want to do. Maybe it sounds crazy to say I forced myself, but in a way I did and I’m not sure I can adequately explain how very glad I am that I forced myself.

Sure, there have been physical changes – the weight lost, the tattoo, even the wrist injury I sustained while attempting to snowboard – but the greatest changes are mental, emotional and psychological. I am not the same person I was three years ago. I’m not even sure 27-year-old Meredith would recognize 30-year-old Meredith. Though at my core I believe I am essentially the same person, I know that these last three years have twisted and shaped me in ways I never saw coming. And I’m glad for that. I am so immeasurably glad that I am not the same person I used to be – which is not to say the old me was bad or faulty or defective. It’s just that I’m stronger, more confident and wiser now. But, of course, hindsight is always 20/20 and I couldn’t know this until I got here.

You may have noticed that I crossed off “fall in love” on my list. Curious about that? Well, there’s no secret boyfriend or fiance or husband waiting in the wings (and even if there was, I’m not crazy enough to write about my relationship in detail online). No, I figured that I deserved to cross that item off my list because I fell in love with myself. Yes, it sounds corny and cliched and yes, even I’m rolling my eyes, but whatever – it’s my life, my blog, my list. Self-confidence and self-esteem are two things I’ve struggled with for a very long time and whether it had to do with my 15 Before 30 list or just life in general, I can say that these past three years (and 2011 in particular) have given me a newfound appreciation for myself. I’m happier and even though there are days where I feel like I still have a long ways to go, I’m light-years from where I used to be.

I don’t necessarily want to imbue this 15 Before 30 list with special, magical powers, but it really has turned out to be an incredible motivator and agent for change. I made the choices, I pushed and challenged myself, heck I even made the list in the first place. But simply having it in the first place set on off on this path three years ago and I’m going to be forever grateful that it did.

So, maybe turning 30 isn’t so bad. Besides, I’ve already started my 30 Before 35 list. I can’t let myself get lazy now!

Lately, writing posts for Ordinary Mer has felt like a chore. I just don’t feel like I have enough time or enough good (or even halfway decent) ideas. As you may or may not know, I also maintain a book blog and keeping up with two blogs, while giving 110% to my job means that I’ve been rethinking my approach to blogging in general.

I started this blog a little under three years ago and as I now approach Ordinary Mer’s third anniversary – and my upcoming 30th birthday, I need to take a step back and figure out what, exactly, I’m doing with this space. I want to keep it, if only for archival purposes. All of my progress with regards to my 15 Before 30 list is documented here and I at least owe my two or three readers a final report on how I did and what I learned during that process. (It also shouldn’t surprise you to learn that I’ve already started compiling my 30 Before 35 list.)

But at the same time, I just feel like I can’t keep up with two blogs, while also working, having something that resembles a social life, sleeping, exercising, maintaining my sanity, etc. I want to want to write, instead of feeling like I spend all my time in front of a computer, be it at work or at home. The book blog is different, because I find it easier to write those reviews and because I always make time to read, no matter what.

So I’m not exactly sure when my next post will be, aside from one Wordless Wednesday I already have scheduled. I know I will be back eventually, because I feel like I need this space for therapeutic purposes, to get the thoughts and words out of my head. And besides, it’s a Presidential election year. God knows somebody’s going to do something that pisses me off and I’ll be back to write an angry rant. But for now, I’m letting myself off the hook when it comes to regularly scheduled posts. I just need to find a rhythm and schedule that works for me again.

I hope you’ll be here whenever I come back.

I’ve taken the Myers-Briggs personality test a few times and I have been labeled as an INFJ – introverted, intuitive, feeling and judging. INFJs are apparently one of the rarest Myers-Briggs type, accounting for only 1-3% of the population.

• Introverted – as an INFJ, I tend to be quite and reserved, especially when I’m in new situations. I much prefer the company of a few close friends to a large crowd and social situations exhaust and expend my energy.
• Intuitive – I prefer abstractions; I’m more likely to focus on the big picture and future possibilities than the present reality (which usually gets me in trouble).
• Feeling – I tend to value personal connections over objective criteria and weigh social implications over logic.
• Judging – I’m a planner and early decision maker. I thrive on predictability.

As an INFJ, I’m a very private and independent person. I would rather exert my influence from behind the scenes (a puppet master, if you will) and let someone else take the spotlight. More often than not, I find myself “living” in my head, as my imagination un-spools story after story, possibility after possibility. But I don’t often share that inner world with others, because it’s hard for them to understand what I just know innately. INFJs are called “confidents” because we are highly perceptive of others’ emotions, but we also tend to guard our own feelings quite closely.

“[INFJs] are intricately and deeply woven, mysterious, and highly complex, sometimes puzzling even to themselves. They have an orderly view toward the world, but are internally arranged in a complex way that only they can understand. Abstract in communicating, they live in a world of hidden meanings and possibilities.”

Some well-known and famous INFJs include Aristophanes, Chaucer, Mother Theresa, Martin Luther King, Jr., Billy Crystal*, Nelson Mandela, and if you believe in personality types for fictional people, Luke Skywalker** and the Tinman from Wizard of Oz.