Wednesday, February 1, 2012


When I was in elementary school we had a celebration for the 100th day of school each year. Every student would bring in some kind of representation of 100 things. 100 rocks or 100 legos or 100 pairs of socks. The popular kids often brought 100 cupcakes. My sister and I often brought 100 paperclips.

Blogspot tells me that this is my 100th post. That's kind of crazy. Given my rather verbose tendencies, it's not surprising to me that I've written so much, but it is surprising to me how much I like doing it and how much I've stuck with it. I've found that I like writing here for a lot of reasons--it gives me some kind of structure and purpose in a year with a big lack thereof, it forces me to re-articulate the stories I'm hearing and make connections, it helps me remember the details and colors and feelings of this year, and most of all, it connects me to you. I am flattered and thrilled that there are people out there sticking with me, verbosity and all. In a rather lonely year, I am so grateful for the chance to share a little of it and your comments and encouragement mean the world.

To celebrate, we'll go with a happy song. I have to thank my big sister for indoctrinating me into the music and politics of Dar Williams at an early age. Other artists come and go but her folky lyricism will always remain dear to my heart. (And she just gets what it's like to be a liberal arts college student. And a babysitter). I could go on for a long time about Ms. Williams, but I will let you in on a secret for now. Before every interview at every stage of my Watson application, I would walk from my dorm to whatever building it was in with this playing in my headphones. (Talk about a confidence builder).

If you will allow me a little bit of cheesiness in honor of my 100th post, I will share with you that I think her idea of learning how to "dance when the music's ended" might just be what this year is all about.

I've seen her live twice now and at one of her concerts I stood in line to meet her afterwards. She told me she liked my name.


  1. They were colored paperclips, though! And one time 100 My Little Ponies...congrats on 100--I have enjoyed each one.

  2. Mom, that kind of logic is precisely what kept us out of the aforementioned category.

  3. great, great song! I check for tabs and might learn to play it myself. I also like your elaborate choice of words, I can learn a lot! very helpful.