About three or four months ago, I found Bridgette’s to do list on the sidewalk as I was walking home. It was raining. I have a policy of never returning trash to the sidewalk where I found it. So, I took it with me. As I walked, I read what she was planning to do: Yogify my life. Learn to Fight better (checked off). Move to a country you have never seen before (that one is in a different handwriting).

I called Autumn and said something to the effect of “I have found us a new friend.” I didn’t follow up on that. I never searched for Bridgettes on KU people search. I didn’t check Craig’s List lost items. I didn’t hang up posters around the neighborhood. I just squashed the list between paper towels under heavy books and waited for it to dry. Then I stuck it to my fridge under black, round magnets.

Bridgette’s list greeted me every time I walked into my apartment: Find a place to live (check). Learn to garden. Spend more time with nature. That list inspired more than a couple of moments of reflection. I asked myself frequently, “What Would Bridgette Do?”

Bridgette was a part of the move into Emily’s house. If she could move to a new home, so could I. Bridgette helped me to buy the bike, kiss the friend and dance at The Bottleneck (rum helped with that too). And, pathetic as it sounds, I kept plants alive (in part) because I worried that, someday, I’d get to tell Bridgette that I had learned to garden. I didn’t want to tell her I had killed my plants.

She became a part of my life — the same way I adopted the family in the photo I found in the Dumpster by my first apartment. She was a roommate I didn’t really have, but I knew so much about. Her list included things I had considered doing: Visit the Christopher Elbow factory in Kansas City. Make a trip to Washington (see the redwoods!). Go to First Fridays with Michael Bunn.

It was that item — one she says she still hasn’t completed — that allowed me to get in touch with Bridgette and led to coffee and an interview this evening; Michael had written his phone number on Bridgette’s list.

When I needed someone to profile for Max Utsler’s Multimedia Reporting class (ugh), I called Michael, told him I had something that Bridgette had lost and asked how to contact her. Four e-mails and 13 days later, Bridgette had agreed to meet with me at Java Break.

Here is some of what I found out:

Bridgette is 28, from New York (a suburb of New York City), she is five-two, skinny and has short dark hair. She’s working on her Master’s in English Lit. And she makes lists. It’s just something she does.

The list I found includes the things that help Bridgette to recharge. She said this list was a sort-of master list, which combined things from previous lists and focused on what was important. She said that she doesn’t think the type of list I’m used to — Buy groceries. Pay bills. Shower. — precludes the type of list she’s inclined to write. And, maybe more importantly, she explained her belief that putting a desire on paper or out into the world helps lead to its fulfillment.

My story about Bridgette earned an 88 percent. My teacher said the content was C work; the multimedia deserved an A+. I agree.

I didn’t give the story the attention, time and care it deserved — that Bridgette deserved.

But I have a pretty good excuse.

While I was working on the story, I got caught up in the things that should be on my own list. While I put off writing Bridgette’s story, I checked off three things:

Plant the front garden.

Spend more time with babies.

Get some use out of the Kitchenaid.

I’m out of town for the next 13 days and my roommates couldn’t care less about plants, so my garden might be dead when I get home; Isabella won’t remember that I massaged her teething gums and that we both laughed when she farted; and the cookie dough I mixed up never became cookies to send to Christopher like I planed, so I guess I didn’t really get anything done.

And maybe that’s the point. As a piece of wrinkled graph paper with scrawled reminders of Bridgette’s goals, the list encouraged me to try new things, to try Bridgette’s things. But Bridgette — this dreamer, writer, list-maker — has inspired me to figure out what’s important to me, to write it down and to get started. I hope Bridgette is right, that articulating my list will help make things happen. I’m ready.

One Response to “What’s on your list?”

1. skippy Says:
   August 2nd, 2008 at 2:33 pm

   i’m not sure there are many thing in this world that can improve perspective, joy and wonder better than spending time with babies. good list pick.

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