An Open Letter to the Seattle Mariners

Dear Mariners,

We need to talk.

I've looked up to this team my whole life. They taught me that hope will get you a long way, and even the least likely group can come out ahead if you work hard enough. But it means I also grew up not knowing what winning felt like. Sure, we had '95, '97, and '01. But now it's been fourteen years since we've touched the playoffs, or even truly had a legitimate shot at them.

I grew up not knowing what a championship felt like. I grew up in a house that cheered for the Mariners, the Astros, the Cowboys, and the Seahawks. I didn't experience my first championship shot until 2005, and my first championship win until 2-2-12 when the Seahawks won the Super Bowl. I was twenty-one. Many people I know have had more championships than they can count by that age. Or at least shots at them.

I tell you that so I can say this. Something needs to change. And it's not me, it's you. There have been several years in that fourteen year span that the Mariners should have gone to the playoffs. The reason why they missed was not because the team wasn't good enough. It was because the management and ownership gave up on the boys on the field.

I'm tired of the athletes being meddled with and eventually given up on by people who sit in an office and get paid millions, instead of the men who are paid to manage the athletes. Even former manager Eric Wedge complained that the front office made poor decisions about players and scouting.

We've had a whopping two winning seasons since Jack Z took over at GM. Two. And that's with not one, not two, but four different managers. I know I'm not great at math, but I know how to find a lowest common denominator.

Every season, the Mariners get fans hopes up, bringing in great players like Cano, Cruz, and this year J.A. Happ. And then something goes wrong. The first half the season is mediocre at best, but looks promising. There are trades made, and it's not hard to tell that we're always on the short end of it. It's easy to see that certain guys are kept around for name value, like Iwakuma (or in his day, Ichiro), and should be the ones going, but are kept on and kept playing for reasons unknown to everyone with eyes.

And then the All Star Break happens. It's great, we get a breath of fresh air. King Felix goes and represents the team and reminds the world that we can be the best!

And then the season starts back up. And the world remembers why we're not. The trade deadline approaches and this is where it's apparent the front office has given up. Every year. It doesn't matter how promising our team looks in terms of potentially making a playoff run, especially when you bring into account anybody you may be able to bring in, or anybody who may be sick or injured. Jack. Gives. Up.

This year it started with the trade of Dustin Ackley. While this one was not a surprise as the outfield is pretty strong this year and the once-firstbaseman no longer HAS a position in the majors, you trade a guy hitting .215 with a .635 OPS, for Ramon Flores (another outfielder), who has barely set foot on a major league field, hitting .219 with .469 OPS, and Jose Ramirez who has an ERA of 15.0.

I'm not a manager. I'm not a business person. I am an athlete, but in an individual sport. But I do know that when you trade from one team to another team, you should always try and make it so that your team is getting the better deal. I cannot imagine a world in which the Mariners got the better deal here. Even for young prospects. These are not the kind of players I want.

BUT WAIT. THERE'S MORE!

THEN YOU TRADED MARK LOWE?! You traded a pitcher with a 1.00 ERA and 47 strikeouts for effectively three prospects. AND THEN. J.A. Happ has a few bad games. So you throw him away for ONE SINGLE PROSPECT.

You cannot win a World Series on the hopes of prospects. You will never win a World Series if you continue to trade away your good players faster than the ink dries on their contracts. Fans are tired of "rebuilding." We're tired of being told that these prospects are great and then seeing nothing from them, a la Ackley, Smoak, and many others you've promised us. We're tired of seeing players we have built go on to win series rings with other teams because you traded them away for mediocre counterparts. We're just tired. Take a trip down the street and go have a chat with Pete and John. They know how to get it done, with respect for their fans and their athletes. They never gave up. Something you need to learn.

Most importantly, stop giving up half way through the season. There's still hope after 81 games. Hell, there's still hope after 120 games. It's not how you start, it's how you finish. You can lose the first eight innings, but if you win the ninth, that's all that matters. So for the sake of your fans, finish something for once.

Forever True to the Blue,
Emily

The Invincibility of the Modern Athlete

I feel like we live in a time where I can't turn on the news or scroll on social media without hearing about another pro athlete being arrested, pulled over for driving drunk or high, or is somehow in legal trouble. It's so bad, in fact, that USA Today has found it helpful to have an NFL Arrest Database to keep track of the legal adventures of many young peoples role models, and adults favorite weekend entertainers.

After hearing about yet another arrest today, as well as current-former (for those of you who do not watch football, he is currently not allowed to partake in any NFL activities as a result of sanctions handed down by the league) NFL player Adrian Peterson pleading 'No Contest' to child abuse allegations, I began to rack my brain about why so many professional athletes find themselves in legal trouble. We do not find actors or musicians or even politicians in as much trouble as we seem to find athletes, despite being in just as much of a spotlight. There have been 28 NFL players arrested, cited, or detained in the last 6 months (updated as of 10/24/14). That does not include players in other leagues, players not on rosters, players on practice rosters, or who simply were not caught. But why are so many living lives that are putting them in this position?

I believe we give them a sense of invicibility from a young age through their participation in athletics.

One month ago, 7 high school football players were arrested and subsequently charged for sexually assaulted and hazing of fellow teammates. The remainder of the season for this high school team was ultimately canceled, sparking rage in the community. One student tweeted about truly hating the freshmen now. A mother stated "They were talking about a butt being grabbed. That's about it. No one was hurt. No one died."

I'd like to take this time to note that the victims spoke of multiple occasions where they would were slammed to the floor, kicked, and occasionally sodomized with the fingers of the convicted players. But "No one was hurt. No one died," so it's not a big deal, right? A mother and a community is trying to protect rapists and abusers, who would potentially go on to do more harm in their futures, instead of taking a stand for what is moral and what is right.

I'm sure we all remember the Stubenville rape case, where two football players raped and filmed a young girl while she was unconscious, and then passed around the video their friends and fellow teammates. In response to the video and the rape allegations, people from Stubenville (including adults unrelated to the rapists) claimed that the young woman put herself in a position to be raped by being "too drunk," and even the defense attorney argued that since the victim did not verbally reject the boys advances that she did not deny consent.

In the Stubenville case, people took sides, saying it would be unfortunate for these two young men to lose their "bright futures" over such an incident where they seemingly did nothing wrong. You know, nothing but rape a girl.

And of course, my personal favorite, we have the coddled Jameis Winston. The NCAA and Florida State University alike will do anything to make Winston believe that he can do no wrong, down to disciplining him with a one game suspension for actions that many players (and normal students) could be suspended indefinitely and potentially expelled for. Winston has legal troubles that include: shoplifting, shouting sexual explicit vulgarities in a public places (while standing on a table, might I add), rape allegations, firing a BB gun at squirrels on FSU property, and allegedly selling autographs (a huge NCAA no-no).

Despite all of this, Winston has a Heisman Trophy, a National Championship, and has only ever been sanctioned to miss one game, which was originally a mere half-game suspension, during his time as a player at FSU. Additionally, I find it necessary to add that during his suspended game, Winston showed up suited up on the sidelines, as if the team would be ready to throw him into the game if injury were to require such circumstance.

Effectively, the NCAA and FSU are setting precedent for all NCAA athletes, and not a good one. They are saying that as long as you can perform on the field, your off the field conduct does not matter. They are saying that your potential as an athlete is more important that your moral and legal practices. They are saying that athletes, as long as they are good ones, are invincible. The NCAA and FSU are creating the NFL players that we find on USA Today's arrest database.

Occasionally we even find ourselves cheering for the athlete. In the wake of the Oscar Pistorius trial I found myself heartbroken that this man I looked up to as a fellow disabled athlete could have possibly killed anyone, even accidentally. And after his sentencing I was once again heartbroken that he would have to serve 5 years in prison for it. "But he's an athlete, what about his potential? He won't be able to run in prison," I caught myself saying. It didn't matter to me that he had shot his girlfriend, accidental or not. It mattered to me that he was a role model to me. It's that attitude that creates these invincible athletes. "But I'm an athlete, I can't be arrested," or "But I'm an athlete, you wouldn't ruin my career and future for this."

It's not athletes who are creating the idea that athletes are invincible. It's the public and the organizations that are. We are contributing to this, whether we realize it or not.

Things Are Changing

So first off, I want to start with sharing the fact that apparently I'm just a really awful blogger. I'm really good at having a Tumblr, and a Twitter, and a Facebook. But a "real" blog is apparently not for me. I have no idea how people keep up with these things weekly, let alone daily, or how people could possibly make money off of them. I, on the other hand, apparently like to post once every 3-6 months with the hopes and aspirations that I'll post more often, only to be let down by my innate inability to find anything important or interesting to post about. I could probably post tons of pictures of kittens every day, but that's not what this blog is here for.

Moving on. Obviously a lot has changed in my life in the last 9 months. I moved to Maryland, was forced to stop riding horse in the meantime, learned a lot about myself, and that's just the beginning.

A little over a month ago I got notice that my Uncle had been placed in the hospital with signs that he had suffered another heart attack. This was not a new experience for me. I have often gotten news that he was sick again, even hospitalized, and often gotten word of it after he had come home. You see, my Uncle's body was very sick. He suffered his first heart attack on September 11, 2001, mostly thought to be brought on by the stress, shock and horror of the terror attacks on the United States. Since then, he had had several minor heart attacks, open heart surgeries (including a quadruple bypass), and all in all was in desperate need of a heart transplant. He also dealt with other illnesses, such as diabetes, that added to his lack of wellness over the years. So learning that he was in the hospital was not a shock. But this time it felt different.

If you did not know that my Uncle lived with these ailments, you would not have guessed. He did his best to be there for us as nieces whenever he could, especially as he never married and did not have any children of his own. We were his children. Once in the middle of July he went with my cousins and me to the Houston Museum of Natural History and ogled at the dinosaurs, allowing me to break the rules and touch the exhibits (all for a photo opportunity of course), despite the obvious "do not touch" signs. He simply looked the other way. We would watch football, horse racing and baseball together, and he was the only person in the world that could keep me interested in the Tour de France for longer than about 10 seconds.

But when I got that call, I knew something was different. This time he was intubated, something that had happened very rarely, if ever before. His kidneys were failing and his body was shutting down. I wanted to jump in my car or on a plane and be there with him, because I had an underlying feeling that he would not be with us for long.

I was right.

One Tuesday night I was up late doing homework, and I jokingly asked a friend to buy me a plane ticket to Houston. He declined, obviously. The next morning, I woke up feeling very ill, like something was wrong. I decided to not go to class that day and fell back asleep. I woke up a few hours later with a text message from my dad (and if you know my dad, you know he never texts) that read "Call me when you are out of class." I knew then.

I called him anyways and he told me the news, and I immediately started crying. I was glad I had stayed home. Oddly, my pets had been extra cuddly that morning as well, as if they knew before I did. I called my mom and we started discussing travel plans and coping, etc. Most of all we talked about how we were glad that we had taken the time to drive to Houston for Thanksgiving.

One big discussion that we had was how I felt the need to be there for the funeral, but coming that Saturday was my very last chance to compete for a local title to go to Miss Maryland, and as this is my last year, it would have been my last chance ever. As I was laying in bed trying to figure out how to be an adult again (aka, I was watching The Land Before Time and eating ice cream), I got a text message from a director that I had had previously in the year (actually the very first pageant I did in Maryland).

Teresa asked me if I was busy and could talk on the phone, I said no, and she gave me a call. The conversation that followed informed me that I was the new Miss White Oak 2014 and would be going to Miss Maryland. I would not have to compete on Saturday, a mere days after my Uncle passing away and hours before having to fly to his funeral. I cried while on the phone with Teresa, both out of grief and excitement.

For a while I didn't know how to feel. I didn't know if it was okay to be happy about my title because of the circumstances I was also in. I didn't know if I could celebrate one thing and mourn another. After a few days I was able to separate the two emotions and could be excited for my opportunity to compete for Miss Maryland while still mourning the loss of a loved one. I took my new crown to the funeral to show my Uncle, who never got to see me compete.

Most importantly from all of this, is the fates work in mysterious ways. My uncle would not have been healthy enough to come see me at Miss Maryland or even Miss America. Had I had to compete that Saturday I most likely would not have won, as I would have been too emotionally compromised.

My Uncle is the most inspirational person I've ever known. He never finished college, but is easily the smartest man I have and will ever know. He traveled the world in his lifetime, and I now have a piece of the Berlin wall that he picked up straight off the ground after the fall of the wall. He was asked to be a body guard at the Seoul Olympics, but turned down the offer as he did not want to carry around an AK-47. He was a hardcore conservative, but understood that war takes live and is detrimental to our economy, our society, and the lives of people around the world. He pursued everything he loved in life. And most of all, he taught me that life is too short to spend it doing something you hate because it's what you think society would want you to do.

For a man who was 54, he was wise beyond his years. My only hope in life is that one day I can influence as many people as he did. I hope that one day, people look up to me as they looked up to him. And I hope my pancakes can be half as good as his were.

I love you, Uncle. Rest in Peace.

Strawberry Banana Protein Smoothie

Protein smoothies are a staple in my diet. They're quick, easy, and liquid, which is great for someone who commonly has a upset tummy and can't tolerate much breakfast food. I used to buy the pre-packaged Jamba Juice smoothie mixes at the store, but they are SO incredibly expensive that once my grad-school budget happened I simply couldn't afford them anymore. And why bother? Making your own is a little daunting at first but it's a really simple formula.

I like finding a lot of recipes on Pinterest and editing them however necessary (take out dairy when I'm dairy free, slightly more or less fruit, different fruit, whatever). Frankly, smoothie making is more of an artform than anything. No two smoothies are going to turn out alike, so know you always have the freedom to add more or less liquid, fruit, greens, whatever you so choose.

However, I do have a couple rules that I always always always follow:

1. ALWAYS use frozen fruit. It negates the need for ice and thus you become full faster and stay full longer. If you freeze bananas, peel them first. Trust me. I learned the hard way.
2. Don't use water as your liquid. You want something with nutrients in it. Cow's milk, soy milk, coconut water, juice, whatever. Just. Not. Water. If you opt for juice make sure you're using something that is 100% juice with no sugar added.
3. Don't use sweeteners. A lot of "recipes" call for Honey or other sweeteners. Frankly, you don't need them. All it does is boost the sugar content without altering the taste much.

I loosely based this particular recipe off of the popular "Lauren Conrad's 7 Days to Skinny Jeans" pin that is everywhere on Pinterest. The recipe follows.

1/2 Cup Frozen Strawberries
1 Frozen Banana
1/2 Cup Old Fashioned Rolled Oats*
1 Scoop Vanilla Protein Powder
1 TBSP "Very Green" Dietary Supplement
1 1/2 Cups Light Vanilla Soy Milk

*I make sure I use certified Gluten Free oats, but I'm picky. These are dry, uncooked oats. Don't use Instant Oatmeal.

It turns out looking like this:

Of course you're free to switch out berries, flavor of protein powder, liquid, whatever. This is just what I personally use. And don't worry, I see your brain gears turning.

What is Very Green?

Good Question! Very Green is a dietary supplement you can pick up at your local organic market or health food store. It may be called something different, but when you buy it at Trader Joe's it looks something like what you see on the right. Basically, it's a full serving of veggies in powder form. I add it to all my smoothies in lieu of adding things like raw spinach or kale because it blends right in and doesn't add volume. It also does not alter taste. It changes the color a little, as the powder is green, but you're getting a full serving greens for basically no room in your blender, allowing you to add more fruit, liquid, or whatever you may like. You also don't have to worry about cleaning the greens before you blend them, or de-stemming things, or winding up with stems in your smoothie if your blender isn't the best.

I haven't tried, but I'm guessing it can also be added to other foods like soups and sauces. It can also be taken straight with water or juice. Here's the dietary panel:

Okay so now that that little side track is over. Put all that in the blender, and, well, blend. I often find myself having to pulse the blender a bit, and then stop and shimmy it a little to get everything back around the blades, but within about 45-60 seconds of blending you should have a nice consistancy. Don't be afraid to add more liquid if you like yours thinner. The one in the picture below was on the thicker side, but I also neglected to use the full 1.5 Cups of liquid. So your final result should look something like this:

Drink up!

Another Topic

So I realize that this blog remains dormant a lot and therefore does not have a lot of followers. With my fibromyalgia and inability to work out a lot, I have to maintain my health through my diet, so I'm going to begin blogging about my food choices a bit as well as my bucket list when I reach those goals.

Expect lots of pictures and recipes, as well as tips!

#40 - Visit the Grave of Edgar Allan Poe

...and the accompanying adventure.

This is obviously something I've wanted to do for a long time, as it's on the first page of my Bucket List. Poe has been one of my favorite authors for years, and I find myself in the heart of Baltimore this week, so I couldn't pass up this opportunity.

My dad was at his convention all day, leaving me to fend for myself. I had called him to see if he could sneak away for some brunch, but he couldn't, so he told me to take the money he left and go get a hotdog on the corner. He strictly specified if I stayed within the block that the hotel is on, I'd be fine.

Jokes on him.

I got my hotdog and decided, well, I'm already outside, might as well explore, right? I knew that the graveyard was close, but I didn't know what direction, so I pulled out my phone and mapped it. Literally the easiest directions ever, but it's important that I show you this map, so it's on the right.

Now why is this map so important, you ask? Well, you see... I got lost. Not "lost" in the traditional sense, but I walked right by it. Yes, I walked right by a 200+ year old graveyard. I even had looked at the church and said "Wow that's a beautiful building, I should take a picture of it..." and kept walking.

So when I finally figured out that I had gone too far, I turned around and eventually realized what I had done, it had started to sprinkle. I thought "no biggie," since I'm from Seattle and all. As soon as I set foot in the graveyard, to the sight of a beautiful monument erected for Poe, as well as what I understand is where Maria Clemm and Virginia Poe are buried.

As I walked around and browsed the graves of various famous (and not so famous) people, it started to rain harder. And harder. And harder. I eventually found the actual original burial place of Edgar Allan Poe, and crouched there for a minute or two before finally leaving. I had wanted to sit and read for a bit, but it was simply raining too hard. Some pictures from the graveyard:

 

 

So I decided to ditch the graveyard, thinking that the spirits were telling me that I should have listened to my dad. I knew I had passed the Lexington Market on my way there, and I figured I could find some solace there while the storm let up. So I briskly walked down the street to the market, dove inside, and tried to dry myself off a bit. I also took this picture to show how miserable and soaked I was. For reference, I was wearing flip flops with gel in them, and they basically just oozed water every time I took a step. Gross. 

So after the rain let up a bit I decided to head back to the hotel. Except, I did it wrong. Now, I'm gonna show you another map. Because this one is also important. Here's the map from the Market to the Hotel on the left. Shouldn't be that hard, right? Well this time, I didn't map it. I trusted my gut after I left the market and I walked the wrong way. And then I was like "Oh I know where I am because there are signs for the University!" and continued to walk the wrong way. And I might have walked into a bit of the wrong part of town because I decided to maybe look at a map. And then I VERY quickly turned around. Once I knew where I was I was golden and made it back to the hotel in no time (with a slight detour for some sweet tea). By the time I was within sight of the hotel there was tons of thunder and a bit of lightning, so I made it back just in time. My clothes are currently hanging over the tub and I'm comfortable in my PJs. AND I got to listen to the rest of the storm from the comfort of my bed.

So there you have it. Today we learned that although I am almost 23, I still need adult supervision. And if you leave me alone in a hotel room all day in a city I've always loved and never gotten to explore, I will not listen to you when you tell me to stay within a one block area. We also re-confirmed that even with a map, I never have any idea where I'm going. Ever.

#44 - Name a Pet Kuzco

So first off, I was talking about how I blog about my bucket list to a friend of mine and then I realized that I haven't blogged in almost a year, though I've accomplished a few things. Oops.

So here's a quick one for the night. Last June I was coming out of a doctors appointment and I saw this odd Yellow truck-van near where I get my prescriptions. At first, my mom and I thought it might be a taco truck, but as soon as we got closer I saw that it was the Humane Society and that there were, in fact, kitties in said truck-van. I yelled "PULL OVER NOW" and hopped out of the car before she had even put it in park (mind you, I had just had blood drawn and was in the middle of a ridiculous fibro flare).

So I was perfectly content just standing outside looking at all the cute kitties through the window, when suddenly a guy who works for slash volunteers for the Humane Society walks up to me and simply says the words: "You can go in and take them out of their cages if you want."

Man. What a mistake.

I opened up the door and immediately saw this little gray kitten standing up against the bars of his cage just meowing and meowing. I crouched down and frantically tried to let the little guy out, and once I finally figured out the handle he, no exaggeration here, LEAPT into my arms.

I started petting him and loving on him, and then I took a selfie with him cause who wouldn't want that, right?

My mom tried to tell me I couldn't have him, but she fell in love with him as well and in the end said "you're an adult and you can make your own decisions." So really what that means is "I am not taking responsibility for this when you tell your dad you brought home a cat."

So I brought home a cat.

And then hid it from my dad for 4 days.

But he became right at home, and walked in and looked around like he had lived here his whole life. He basically stepped in and said "This things? These are all mine."

And thus, Kuzco was named.

He is Lilo's baby, and occasionally thinks that he is a dog. To the point that he's actually a really heavy footed cat. Like, he may think he's sneaking around the house, but he's not. We all know where he is at all times.

Oh and all boxes are beds.

#53 - See Miss America Live in Vegas

So this happened way back in January, but I'm just getting around to blogging about it. Wow. Go me.

I only managed to get to one preliminary night and finals night, but that still fulfills my bucket list requirements, and I will say, it was QUITE A SHOW. I watched the amazing Miss Washington, Brittney Henry, perform her talent on Thursday and found out later she won non-finalist talent (deservingly so). I also got to go back to the reception area afterwards and talk to some of my pageant sisters, and B, which was awesome.

Finals night was ridiculous. I've never been to a live taping of anything before, so it was a totally different atmosphere for me. We sat in front of some people who were from Texas, who weren't pageant people but just happened to get tickets to the pageant because they were in Vegas. They seemed to really enjoy it even though they didn't know the ins and outs. Although I was disappointed that my girl didn't make Top 15, it was still a wonderful pageant and I was very happy with the outcome.

So, here are some pictures from my trip:

I found these awesome Dinosaur necklaces that I bought for myself and my roommate.

With Miss WA 2011 and 2007 at visitation on Thursday

The cousins and I at the Wax Museum. I was so much taller than ALL OF THE FIGURES.

My baby cousin and I before finals night with our WA signs that they took away from us. =(

So there's the trip in a nutshell. I'm also up to 131 things to do! OH NO!

#95 - Fill a Journal with Inspiration and Gift It

I completed this one a while ago, but never blogged about it because I don't really know how, but I'll do my best.

This past summer my friend Margaret let me borrow her horse to ride since mine were in Oregon. Margaret is 16 and like any teenager has some confidence issues sometimes with various things in her life, so I figured this was the perfect thank you/encourage you thing to do for her.

I bought a little journal and began clipping out pictures from magazines, as well as printing some pictures that I had taken of her. I also used inspirational quotes and song lyrics that I knew she liked. The idea behind this journal was that whenever she was feeling discouraged she could look in it, and even add her own inspiring things with the idea that perhaps she could gift this journal, or a brand new one, to someone younger when it comes that time.

There aren't really any pictures to "show" this one, so I'll leave it with this explanation. I also have expanded the bucket list to 128 things. I also completed another since I last blogged, but I'm tired, so maybe I'll write about that one tomorrow. 13 down, 110 to go.

A Realization

I was looking online today at some quotes, and I came upon a

realization. I used to ask people a question very similar to this:

In fact, my question was almost identical.  Whenever we would run out of conversation, I would ask this question. Great topic starter, no doubt. When I saw this, I flashed back to when I asked my first boyfriend this question and what his answer was. I realize now that at that moment that there should have been red flags.

For a year and a half I suffered through an emotionally abusive relationship with this person. With some studying and discussing with others, I realized that he had many of the symptoms of a sociopath. He would do purposefully hurtful (and sometimes illegal) actions and use his charm to win people over and make things okay. I realize now that I should have noticed something was wrong, when his answer to my question was "I would rob a bank, or maybe rape somebody." At the time I was just a naive teenager looking for a boyfriend, so I looked over anything that may have seemed bad.

I do not put this out here to harm him, which is why I have kept this person anonymous, nor do I write this to gain your sympathy. I write this for a few reasons.

1. I believe that if I release all feelings of regret I will be able to live a better life, and the best way for me to do this is to share those feelings with the world. I do not regret that I dated this person, for I learned a lot from the relationship, I regret that I did not see the warning signs when they were so obvious to begin with.

2. I want other young girls to know that it's more important to stay safe than to have a boyfriend. If something sounds off to you, talk to your friends or your parents about it. Don't just let it slide. The numbers of domestic violence are so high in this country, and once you're in it it's hard to leave.

2 1/2. I do not want anybody else to have to go through what I go through now. I lack all trust in men, making it nearly impossible for me to find a relationship. I ended a perfectly fine relationship with someone I loved because things began to remind me of my first relationship. Abuse effects you forever.

So tonight, I leave you with this: What would you attempt if knew you could not fail?

An Open Letter

Dear Public School,

Throughout my childhood, I was often encouraged by your teachers, but never by your system. It was a rare day that I was not late for class because I was too tired to get out of bed, despite having gone to bed early and class starting at 8. My mother fought to get me out of bed to go to school every single day. Anywhere from 2 to 4 times a week I would get out of school with a headache (diagnosed in 1st Grade as migraines). When I went to the nurse I was often accused of faking it to get out of class. Why would a child fake such inexplicable pain?

Well, public school, I was recently diagnosed with Fibromyalgia, a syndrome I was probably born with, or which developed very early in my childhood. The symptoms include mind-boggling migraines, and relentless fatigue. Instead of trying to help a sick child, you accused them of faking being sick. There's no need to explain why my parents put me in private school come 6th Grade.

So all those days where I threw up and the nurse sent me back to class because I was "just faking it," or all those days when my body hurt too much to get out of bed and the school told my mother "it's just growing pains," it was really Fibromyalgia. A syndrome which went undiagnosed until I was almost 21 and the symptoms because so bad that I was in the hospital every other week. This says nothing to your education standards, which I also do not agree with. But maybe next time you have a sick child on your hands, or one that complains that they're still tired after 14 hours of sleep, or their entire body hurts at the age of 9, maybe you should suggest that their parents look into it. Never accuse a child of faking it. It makes them not trust people, especially those of authority.

Sincerely,
A Former Student

P.S. When I left your system, I hated school. I never wanted to do anything. Private school helped me through my problems and I graduated at the top of Washington State with Academic Scholarship offers from schools across the country. Could you have done that for a sick child? Probably not.

September 11th, 2001 - Ten Years Later

When I woke up this morning, it felt just like any other day. I filled the electric kettle to make myself some tea, put on my flip flops, and went outside to get the paper. With a cup of tea in hand, I opened my copy of the Seattle Times and saw a striking image-- a sculpture of the World Trade Center covered by medallions, each with the name of a victim of the terrorist attacks that occurred ten years ago today. The sculpture, right, was sculpted by Ingrid Lahti, and stands at 13 feet high.

Underneath Lahti's encapsulating image was the beginning of an even more interesting essay. Since I am not a very political person, I will share the essay here as it covers my political views of the effects of 9/11-- for the most part.

"Five days after the attacks, the World Trade Center was a nightmare landscape: 50-foot hills of smoking rubble, groves of twisted I-beams and skeletal trusses, snowbanks of singed paper.

Nearby businesses testified to the tender banality of life before that morning: coffee cups on smoked-glass tables, day planners open on desks, dust-covered dresses hanging on sale racks, a parking ticket flapping on a crumpled car.

The scale of destruction defied comprehension: seven buildings, 300 stories, 10 million square feet blasted and pancaked onto 16 acres — the equivalent of every bit of retail space in downtown Seattle being burned and dropped onto Safeco Field.

Stoic cops and firefighters sifted "the pile" in bucket brigades. Billeted rescue workers rappelled into fissures and air pockets in a last, desperate search for survivors.

There would be none. Every survivor — 20 in all — had been rescued in the first 27 hours. All that was left of those 2,750 missing people was remains, pieces mostly, and maddeningly few of those.

Still, every few hours, word would come down the line that some remains had been found and an agonizing ritual would be repeated. The bucket brigades stopped. Machinery was shut off. A flag was produced. Hats came off. The remains were taken away. And the work started up again.

Five days after the terrorist attacks of 2001, Ground Zero was a wrenching place — an incomprehensible mix of graveyard, memorial and construction site.

Ten years later, it still is.

This changes everything.

Remember how everything was going to be different? After 2,977 people died in coordinated suicide attacks on the World Trade Center and the Pentagon, and the crash of Flight 93 in Pennsylvania, Americans came together in a near-unanimous moment of unity and shared purpose.

From now on, we would stop being the superficial, America-first consumerists we'd been before 9/11. (Or, depending on your outlook, we'd stop being godless, unpatriotic hedonists.) Either way, this was the call of a generation, the dawn of a new era — one of responsibility, civility and personal sacrifice.

Blood donations and volunteerism spiked, church attendance and military service were expected to follow. Then-President George W. Bush called on every American to donate "4,000 hours, or two years" to charitable work. Senate Republicans and Democrats skipped out onto the Capitol steps to proclaim their bipartisanship, saying, "There is no opposition party."

But then something happened. We lost our way.

Attacked by lunatics who hoped to destabilize our economy and draw us into endless war in the Middle East, we responded by going to war in the Middle East and destabilizing our own economy.

We went on a seven-year spending spree that sent us into crushing personal and national debt. We fought two wars — one against a country that had no connection to the attacks — without paying for them. We tortured, violated our principles and sacrificed our freedoms all in the name of protecting ... our principles and freedoms.

As for unity and bipartisanship — well, here we are 10 years later more divided than ever, with a petulant Congress that would rather drive us all off a cliff than work together.

As late as 2007, 41 percent of Americans still believed Saddam Hussein was behind 9/11. A similar percentage thought it was possible our own government had something to do with the attacks. You're with us or against us? Freedom fries? The Dixie Chicks? If we don't (fill in the blank), the terrorists have won?

We can admit it now. We went a little crazy after 9/11.

Time bombs never went off

Our decade of terrorism is a story of what didn't happen.

There was no great cultural shift, no call of a generation. We didn't come together, sacrifice, volunteer, go to church. We didn't go after Osama bin Laden at Tora Bora. We didn't find weapons of mass destruction in Iraq. The crowds in Baghdad didn't cheer our invasion. The mission wasn't accomplished.

But perhaps most significantly, there wasn't another 9/11.

We were so sure there would be. It's hard to remember now just how terrified we were back then, how vulnerable; a Gallup Poll at the time suggested that 85 percent of Americans expected another attack in the United States "in the next few weeks."

In his speech before Congress, President Bush warned of "unprecedented dangers ... thousands of dangerous killers spread ... through the world like ticking time bombs, set to go off without warning."

The time bombs never went off — or haven't yet. Instead, there was the slow drip of smaller plots, most of them averted or thwarted, some of them little more than brash talk.

If we recall those 20 or so near-misses it is vaguely, like we recall the names of old pop stars: There were the shoe bomber, the underwear bomber, the Virginia Jihad Network. Failed attacks against the Brooklyn Bridge, the U.S. Capitol and the Sears Tower; against shopping malls, refineries and skyscrapers in Dallas, Columbus, Ohio, and Springfield, Ill.

Seattle terrorist threats frame the decade. In December 1999, in a prologue to 9/11, an al-Qaida operative was arrested at Port Angeles trying to smuggle bomb-making materials across the border from Canada. In June of this year, a SeaTac man and his friend were arrested in a plot to attack a Seattle military-recruiting station. In between, terrorist chatter occasionally mentioned state landmarks such as the Columbia Center, Grand Coulee Dam and the Space Needle, which showed up on an al-Qaida computer captured in a cave in Afghanistan in 2002.

But without further attacks, the horrors of 9/11 dissipated. We stopped looking around airplanes for suspicious people. We stopped scanning our skylines for targets. Outside New York — where the pain is still visceral — the terrorist attacks became something most of us just saw on TV.

It may be one of the quieter stories of the past decade — the success of the intelligence agencies, and the relative security we've enjoyed. Or, in the upside-down world of 9/11, it may be the story about how we've grown complacent again.

In early 2001, less than 1 percent of Americans identified terrorism as the most critical issue facing the United States. After 9/11, it was 46 percent. Ten years later, that number is again less than 1 percent.

Spend freely, we were told

The day I arrived at Ground Zero on a writing assignment, a reporter asked New York Mayor Rudolph Giuliani what regular Americans could do to help out.

"Come to New York and spend money," Giuliani said without hesitation. This was less than a week after the attacks; rescue workers were still combing the rubble for survivors. "Go see a play," suggested the man who would become known as America's Mayor. "You might even be able to get tickets to 'The Producers.' "

What began as a legitimate fear the economy might collapse soon became the ethos of a decade.

Addressing the nation on Sept. 20, 2001, President Bush said, "Americans are asking, 'What is expected of us? ... I ask for your continued participation and confidence in the American economy. Terrorists attacked a symbol of American prosperity; they did not touch its source."

A few days later, the Travel-Agent-in-Chief suggested we "get down to Disney World ... and enjoy life."

When I got back from New York, I saw a sign in Spokane that summed up this national mood: "God bless America. New furniture arriving every day."

But it's overly simplistic to blame our leaders for conflating patriotism and capitalism, for reducing American freedom to free markets.

That current was already running strong in America, trust of public institutions at an all-time low, people urging schools to be run "more like businesses." And if our spend-first reaction was simply the result of a presidential directive, where are those 4,000 hours of charity work we were each supposed to serve? Where's the Freedom Corps?

No, we were perfectly eager to get our share of trillions of dollars in make-believe, bubble wealth, to scurry back to that very symbol of security — our houses. Between 2001 and 2007, the average American home price went from $207,000 to $329,000 — a jump of 59 percent.

At the same time, the country was enjoying its first-ever wartime tax cut — while spending at least $1.2 trillion on wars in Afghanistan and Iraq and $700 billion more on homeland security. And those are just the monetary costs.

More than 6,100 Americans have died so far in the wars; 45,000 more have been wounded. The estimates of Iraqi and Afghan casualties during those wars run into the hundreds of thousands.

Then-Secretary of Defense Donald Rumsfeld said after 9/11, "We have a choice, either to change the way we live, which is unacceptable, or to change the way they live."

But why was it so unacceptable to change the way we live? And who, exactly, were they? Why were we in such a hurry to get back to normal? And what was so great about normal anyway?

Republican or Democrat, liberal or conservative, dove or hawk, member of the tea party or of MoveOn.org — who, exactly, is proud of the past decade?

Back to Ground Zero

After I returned from Ground Zero, I began work on a satirical novel about the American reaction to the attacks. When I showed my wife the beginning, in 2002, she worried I'd be arrested if I tried to publish it, or at the very least, that I'd be "Dixie Chicked."

That book, "The Zero," was published in 2006. Every year since then, I have flown back to New York to visit Ground Zero.

When I went this spring, I encountered the only tangible effect most Americans feel from the attacks, at the Spokane airport, where I had to remove my belt and shoes and take from my suitcase a laptop and a Ziploc baggie of contact solution and toothpaste.

In New York, I stayed in a near-empty hotel overlooking Ground Zero. It's a busy construction site now — cranes on rising skyscrapers, a steady parade of concrete mixers. I went for a walk and saw people laying wreaths on the chain-link fence, taking photos near a place where rescue workers once stacked hundreds of loose shoes.

It's a horribly tragic place — and a fitting symbol of the American unity that wasn't. In those early days after the attacks, firefighters, police officers and construction workers got in occasional fistfights over how to look for remains.

Since then, it's been the site of near-constant squabbles and lawsuits: over who was liable, who should profit, whether victims' families deserve money, whether sick rescue workers deserve money, what constitutes a suitable memorial, whether a Muslim learning center should be allowed near the site.

And yet, on this trip, especially, I saw signs that things are getting better.

After all that wrangling over what to do at Ground Zero, planners got the blend of rebuilding and memorializing right. The half-finished Freedom Tower is rising at the pace of about a floor a week and should be finished sometime in 2013 — a dramatic, 103-story tower that will rise 1,776 feet and dominate the southern Manhattan skyline. Five smaller towers will follow. In the footprints of the original twin towers will be two tree-lined reflecting pools and a memorial park to those who died. An underground museum is scheduled to open next year.

At the same time, we seem to be getting better, too. A team of Navy SEALs killed Osama bin Laden this year. The wars in Iraq and Afghanistan are winding down. Americans are saving again, too, paying off their debts. The government may even have to follow suit.

Ten years later, it's still too soon to say if 9/11 was horrific anomaly or harbinger of things to come. It would be nice to say that period is behind us, but history doesn't pay attention to anniversaries, any more than it conforms itself to four-year election cycles.

So we didn't come together in the past 10 years to remake our culture. We didn't learn some great lesson. We didn't eradicate terrorism. We didn't spread freedom through the world.

But we came through it. And that might be enough."

-Jess Walter

As I was reading the Times, throughout all the 9/11 memorials and military thanks, and prayers for families, one more thing stood out to me. Someone said: "We always say 'never forget,' but is there a right time to stop remembering?" If you ask me, no. There is never a right time to stop remembering a terrorist attack such as 9/11 or Pearl Harbor. It may lose some significance. We may no longer show footage of what happened on the anniversary in years to come, but we will always remember the effect these terrorist attacks had on our country.

Another thing I'd like to share is my memory of the day.

I laid awake in bed at 5:46am with the radio playing to keep me company. Insomnia has always been an issue in my life, even when I was a child. I was 10 years old and before that day all that was on my mind was counting down until my 11th birthday, and making it through the 5th grade. When the DJs came on again, they said that there was breaking news-- an airplane had just hit the World Trade Center.

At 10 years old, I had no idea what this meant. I imagined a tall glass building with a plane sticking through it. Something like a cartoon. I didn't imagine it would have this sort of effect on the country, or the world. Knowing that it must be bad, and knowing that my Aunt and Uncle were supposed to be in New York that morning, I awoke my mother and informed her of what I had heard. We turned on the news and began watching the coverage of what had happened. I was so confused as to how someone could run a plane into a building, whether accidentally or on purpose.

As we watched Tower 1 burn and listened to the news reporters, we quickly watched as Tower 2 was hit at 6:03am. My mother looked at me and said "This is terrorism." As I watched the news that day (instead of going to school) I learned what the human race was capable of, both good, bad, and mind-numbing. I was horrified watching people jump out of the World Trade Center to save themselves from burning to death, taking the "quick way," if you would. I was horrified that a group of people would want to hurt a nation so bad as to crash planes into buildings, including the Pentagon and possibly even the White House. I was terrified that they would come after Seattle next, being home to Boeing and Microsoft, a huge economic sector of the United States. And I was amazed to see the bravery of those on Flight 93 who saved lives by giving up their own.

I found my patriotic side ten years ago today. I was a spoiled brat when I was younger, I won't deny it, but on this day, I changed. I realized that helping others was more important than having every toy in the toy store, or getting a new puppy. I wanted to help people, even though I was too young to really do anything. I wore red white and blue when I could, I encouraged my family to put up our flag, I thanked military personal, cops, and firemen, and most of all, I will never forget what I am privileged to have as an American. I am privileged with the right to vote, the right to make my own decisions, and the right to say what I want.

I will say that I am who I am today because of the 9/11 attacks. That's not to say that I'd be terribly different if they hadn't happened, but perhaps I wouldn't have gotten here quite as quickly.

Number 58 - Go Cross Country Schooling

August 22nd, 2011, my best friend took me cross country schooling. This makes 11 of 100 things accomplished. I had a wonderful time at Northwest Equestrian Center in Rainer, WA. I shared my friend Margaret's horse Obe, so poor Obe had to go over everything twice, but it was well worth it. My first experience with cross country was over a baby ditch (right). It was such a baby ditch that it was only one sided, in fact. After jumping it for the first time, I loudly exclaimed "11 down, 89 left to go!" and everyone laughed. Later we jumped a "real" ditch, but never got a good picture of it, so you'll just have to take my word for it.

Our second jump, left, was nothing exciting, just a log. Except for the part where it was up a hill, and the grass was really high so you couldn't see it until you were on top of it. Yeah, did I forget to mention that? Though it wasn't very big. I will say, cross country fences don't look big until you're a stride out from them, and then they look huge, and then you're going over them and you realize that they're not big at all. At least that's how it is for me. I hear it's different for everyone.

This is probably my favorite picture from the day. At least of Obe and myself. I do not have video at the moment, seeing as Allison has it all and she is currently in Waco, doing something for college. Smarty pants. I'll put video up once I have it.

Now for some non cross country related business. I realized a while ago that the picture I posted under FEI Dressage does not indicate that I showed FEI Dressage, since I'm wearing a short coat. I showed FEI Juniors, in which you still wear a short coat even though the tests and rules are sanctioned by the FEI. Since the picture doesn't show it, I will post video now. Here is my proof of accomplishing #19: Show FEI Dressage:

I'm also in the process of working on marking off a few other numbers before the summer is over. Let me know if I've inspired you to start a bucket list of your own, I'd love to know (It's also on my list to inspire 10 people to start their own). I hope you all are enjoying my adventures as much as I am!

My Bucket List

So I've been thinking. I want to change the world, right? Right. Well, what better way to do than by doing things that make me happy and inspiring people to do the same? Exactly, I can't think of one. I can promote my platform day and night, and I still will, but the only way to truly change someone is by making them happy about who they are. So new goal in life. Read on.

About 6 months ago I began making a bucket list. I started it after I saw the movie with Morgan Freeman, and I realized that life is short, and I didn't want to wait until I found out I was dying to realize I had missed out on all these amazing things in life. So at 20, I began a list of things I wanted to do before I died. I'll often add to the list, and today I brought it up to #100. One of the things on my list is to inspire 10 other people to start their own lists.

The most important thing about a bucket list is that it's not just things you might find cool, or fun to do. It's things that will make you happy, or bring joy to your life. I mean, the two aren't mutually exclusive, obviously they can be cool and fun as well, but that's not the purpose of the list.

To keep you on your toes, I'm going to keep my entire list a secret and just document things as I accomplish them. Some things will be able to be document via photo or video, and some you'll just have to take my word on. But I'll give you some ideas on what to put on yours. I have everything from Try Yoga (#96) to Tour Europe (#6) to Volunteer in a 3rd World Country (#91). Quite the span of things. Now onto the things I've accomplished.

#4 - Be a size 6. (June 2011)

#15 - Date a good guy. (December 2010-May 2011)

#16 - Have picture I've taken published in a national magazine. (February 2009)

#19 - Show FEI Dressage. (March 2008)

#39 - Have a walk in closet. (June 2011)

#54 - Have picture I've taken published on the cover of a magazine. (November 2010)

#59 - Go to the Baseball World Series. (October 2005)

#62 - See a play on Broadway in New York. (July 2007)

#63 - Go to a game at Old Yankee Stadium. (July 2007)

#67 - Fly in a hot air balloon. (August 2010)

So that's it. 10 down, 90 to go. Until I add more, that is. I'll add more pictures as I find them, and more accomplishments as I do them.

Summer...

So I'm home for the summer, or at least for a little while. I've immersed myself in horseback riding once again in hopes of getting back in shape enough to join the OSU IHSA team in the fall. I've missed showing horses and IHSA is an inexpensive way to do so, and it's new and exciting things.

I've also gotten back into taking pictures. I didn't realize how much I'd missed it until the camera was in my hand and I could hear the shutter clicking. I'm following my best friend Allison around to all the lessons she's teaching and taking pictures of her students. There's also a 4-H show on July 2nd that I will most likely go take pictures of. Oh how I've missed this. So here's a little of what I've done over the past couple days:

Secrets

Here are some secrets about me:

I secretly want to be a gymnast.

I secretly wish I had more of a social life and spent less time studying, though I will never regret my good grades and GPA.

I secretly think I'm not good at anything.

I secretly wish I had super powers so I could fix everything wrong with my life.

I secretly wish that I wasn't so tall.

And I not so secretly wish I could change the world.

It has been brought to my attention in the last few days that some judges want pageant girls to be perfect. Well, I don't know about the rest of you, but I'm not perfect. I am, however, a positive role model for youth around me. I am willing to share things about myself in order to help better the lives of those around me, and I am willing to make myself vulnerable to make those that feel they cannot feel more comfortable.

Yes, I have tattoos. Yes, I want to be Miss America. Yes, I believe the two can go together. And no, I will never regret the choice to get my tattoos. They have meaning to me, and almost anybody who hears the story of them respects that meaning, whether they like tattoos or not. They are not profane, and there is no way they can offend anyone (at least not anyone I have ever met). I cannot regret being who I am, and that is something I want to share with the world. I can do that by being Miss America, so judges, give me a chance. Ignore the black on my body and look at what's inside. Give my soul a chance to change the world.

Everyone has secrets, but only those who are willing to share theirs and make themselves vulnerable can make steps to change the world.

Literary Explorations

So since I don't really have anything to post, I'm gonna do one of these facebook things, because, well, why not? Pageantry is on hold until March when Miss Moses Lake happens, and nothing is happening in the horse world. So here goes nothing!

Have you read more than 6 of these books? The BBC believes that most people have only read 6 of the 100 books listed here. Bold the books you've read in entirety. Italicize the books you started and did not finish, or read an excerpt from.

1 Pride and Prejudice - Jane Austen

2 The Lord of the Rings - JRR Tolkien

3 Jane Eyre - Charlotte Bronte

4 Harry Potter series - JK Rowling

5 To Kill a Mockingbird - Harper Lee

6 The Bible

7 Wuthering Heights - Emily Bronte

8 Nineteen Eighty Four - George Orwell

9 His Dark Materials - Philip Pullman

10 Great Expectations - Charles Dickens

11 Little Women - Louisa M Alcott

12 Tess of the D'Ubervilles - Thomas Hardy

13 Catch 22 - Joseph Heller

14 Complete Works of Shakespeare

15 Rebecca - Daphne Du Maurier

16 The Hobbit - JRR Tolkien

17 Birdsong - Sebastian Faulk

18 Catcher in the Rye - JD Salinger

19 The Time Traveler’s Wife - Audrey Niffenegger

20 Middlemarch - George Eliot

21 Gone With The Wind - Margaret Mitchel

22 The Great Gatsby - F Scott Fitzgerald

24 War and Peace - Leo Tolstoy

25 The Hitch Hiker’s Guide to the Galaxy - Douglas Adams

27 Crime and Punishment - Fyodor Dostoyevsky

28 Grapes of Wrath - John Steinbeck

29 Alice in Wonderland - Lewis Carroll

30 The Wind in the Willows - Kenneth Grahame

31 Anna Karenina - Leo Tolstoy

32 David Copperfield - Charles Dickens

33 Chronicles of Narnia - CS Lewis

34 Emma -Jane Austen

35 Persuasion - Jane Austen

36 A Wrinkle in Time- Madeleine L'Engle

37 The Kite Runner - Khaled Hosseini

38 Captain Corelli’s Mandolin - Louis De Bernieres

39 Memoirs of a Geisha - Arthur Golden

40 Winnie the Pooh - A.A. Milne

41 Animal Farm - George Orwell

42 The Da Vinci Code - Dan Brown

43 One Hundred Years of Solitude - Gabriel Garcia Marquez

44 A Prayer for Owen Meaney - John Irving

45 The Woman in White - Wilkie Collins

46 Anne of Green Gables - LM Montgomery

47 Far From The Madding Crowd - Thomas Hardy

48 The Handmaid’s Tale - Margaret Atwood

49 Lord of the Flies - William Golding

50 Atonement - Ian McEwan

51 Life of Pi - Yann Martel

52 Dune - Frank Herbert

53 Cold Comfort Farm - Stella Gibbons

54 Sense and Sensibility - Jane Austen

55 A Suitable Boy - Vikram Seth

56 The Shadow of the Wind - Carlos Ruiz Zafon

57 A Tale Of Two Cities - Charles Dickens

58 Brave New World - Aldous Huxley

59 The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Night-time - Mark Haddon

60 Love In The Time Of Cholera - Gabriel Garcia Marquez

61 Of Mice and Men - John Steinbeck

62 Lolita - Vladimir Nabokov

63 The Secret History - Donna Tartt

64 The Lovely Bones - Alice Sebold

65 Count of Monte Cristo - Alexandre Dumas

66 On The Road - Jack Kerouac

67 Jude the Obscure - Thomas Hardy

68 Bridget Jones’s Diary - Helen Fielding

69 Midnight’s Children - Salman Rushdie

70 Moby Dick - Herman Melville

71 Oliver Twist - Charles Dickens

72 Dracula - Bram Stoker

73 The Secret Garden - Frances Hodgson Burnett

74 Notes From A Small Island - Bill Bryson

75 Ulysses - James Joyce

76 The Inferno - Dante

77 Swallows and Amazons - Arthur Ransome

78 Germinal - Emile Zola

79 Vanity Fair - William Makepeace Thackeray

80 Possession - AS Byatt

81 A Christmas Carol -Charles Dickens

82 Cloud Atlas - David Mitchell

83 The Color Purple - Alice Walker

84 The Remains of the Day - Kazuo Ishiguro

85 Madame Bovary - Gustave Flaubert

86 A Fine Balance - Rohinton Mistry

87 Charlotte’s Web - E.B. White

88 The Five People You Meet In Heaven - Mitch Albom

89 Adventures of Sherlock Holmes - Sir Arthur Conan Doyle

90 The Faraway Tree Collection - Enid Blyton

91 Heart of Darkness - Joseph Conrad

92 The Little Prince - Antoine De Saint-Exupery

93 The Wasp Factory - Iain Banks

94 Watership Down - Richard Adams

95 A Confederacy of Dunces - John Kennedy Toole

96 A Town Like Alice - Nevil Shute

97 The Three Musketeers - Alexandre Dumas

98 Hamlet - William Shakespeare

99 Charlie and the Chocolate Factory - Roald Dahl

100 Les Miserables - Victor Hugo

So that's 9 in entirety and 6 incomplete. I thought I was more exposed to literature than that. Hmm... Ah, well. I guess I know what I have to do now.