Merida, Disney-Pixar’s first female lead, is my spirit animal. Or at least, her hair is.

 Where was this character when I was a little girl? Despite graduating college wearing Mickey Mouse ears (no, really), I never really related to most of the Disney Princesses. Belle was a book nerd and I coveted her library and still to this day dream of swinging on a ladder in a bookshop. Ariel and Jasmine both dreamed of far off lives. Mulan fought the Huns (the real Mulan’s story is much more awful than the Disney version would have you believe). Sleeping Beauty is kind of creepy, but I remain taken by the Russian folk art style. Even the princesses who did nothing except be princesses were still compassionate and kind and generally lovely people.

 But in the end, they found love, and all stopped dreaming or fighting.

 Anyone who says they don’t love a good sappy love story is a liar, but it was time for a change.  Enter Merida, the fiery Scottish warrior princess. She rides horses and climbs waterfalls.  She fights bears and shoots arrows. But she does it all while looking awesome. She’s also the first curly girl princess. Curly hair is typically only for villains or awkward nerds who get a makeover, but Merida’s red fiery locks can’t be tamed. They don’t try to make Merida one of the boys, which I appreciate. She’s still an adolescent girl who fights with her mom and is stubborn and sometimes selfish and emotional. Pixar nailed the relationships with both her parents – graceful mom and dorky dad.

 There have been lots of other princesses who fight getting betrothed against their will, but they always eventually end up with their true love. Merida just decides she’s not ready to get married to anyone because she’s young and still has stuff to do. 

 Admittedly, though, it’s not Pixar’s best. It’s not terribly original except in that Merida doesn’t have a love interest. It’s no Up or WALL-E. It’s still a fairytale, with all the magic and adventure, but none of the romance. Of course, none of that stops it from being awesome and beautiful or stopped me from crying my eyes out.

 Watching Merida was like watching 14 year old me, curly hair and everything. Except that I was always really, really bad at archery (which apparently is cool now, thanks Katniss!) and I’ve never gotten above a trot while horseback riding. And if we’re being totally honest, I’ve never fought a bear in Scotland.

 She’s wild in a way we haven’t seen in even the most badass of princesses, in a way that all of us travelers, adventurers, and free spirits can relate to. I’m thrilled Disney has written a character like her, for girls like me.

Now, where’s my red curly wig? Do they make princess costumes in adult sizes?

When I was about ten years old or so, I told my dad I would be the first female president. And when he wished me good luck and told me I could do anything I wanted, I believed him.

I may be 9 years too young to run for president, but when has a little thing like federal regulations ever stood in the way of me accomplishing my dreams?

Today I crossed “Run for president” off my life list.

Thanks to democracy, it’s actually really easy to declare your candidacy. The FEC Form 2 was easier to fill out than any health insurance form, job application, or tax form I’ve ever filled out. But then again, most things are easier than tax forms.

With a few quick notes and one stamp featuring the face of Harriet Beecher Stowe - I’m declaring my candidacy for president of the United States.

I may not know a thing about foreign policy, or I don’t know, other presidential stuff, but that doesn’t make me much different from a lot of elected officials. And, alright, I’m not going to get the $5,000 in campaign contributions required to actually appear on the ballot, and that requires a lot more paperwork that probably is more work than a health insurance form. But if you want to contribute $5,000, I can help put it towards my oodles of student debt. Then again, North Carolina’s already had enough of misused campaign funds. Just write me a check instead.

Edit: If you want to be president, don’t misspell “independent.” Just a tip. Whoops.

During my collegiate days, I was in school full time, working full time as an editor of the newspaper, and volunteering about 10 hours a week with the campus Women’s Center. I seldom slept and ate most of my breakfasts on the bus and my dinners (if I had time) with ink-stained fingers. I was also extremely happy being this busy, and it’s when my love of list-making began. There were lists and post-its for everything plastered all over my apartment, my desk at the paper, my school books. When I got particularly stressed out, I’d make to-don’t lists as permission to relax and a nice reminder there were so many things I didn’t have to do. My favorite “to don’t” is still “ever wear MC Hammer pants.”

In the last week or so, I’ve started actively examining my life list and setting goals for myself. There are things I want to do, and I won’t let them just be items on a list that don’t get accomplished. But it’s also overwhelming. There’s a reason it is a life list, and not a “get it done in the next week” list. I’ve decided to apply the same philosophy and look at all the cool things I have gotten to do. This is my to-done list.

• Caved in the cenote cave system in Mexico,
• Climbed to the top of mayan ruins in Belize
• played with monkeys on the bay islands of Honduras
• stood under the redwoods in California
• posed with the Greta Garbo’s star on Hollywood Blvd
• driven across the Golden Gate Bridge
• flew an airplane
• hunted ghosts
• driven a bulldozer
• played with baby tigers
• drank champagne on top of the Eiffel Tower
• participated in flashmobs dressed as santa and a zombie
• welcomed the first sunrise of the year on the beach
• ate a waffle, fries, and chocolate in Belgium
• stood in awe in front of Guernica and Las Meninas in Madrid
• rafted class V rapids on the oldest river in the US
• read a book on the steps of the New York Public Library
• stood under the lights of Fremont Street in Vegas
• partied on Bourbon Street on St. Patrick’s Day
• hiked a mountain by myself to see windmills in La Mancha.

When I look at how amazing my life has been, I cannot complain about the things I haven’t gotten to do yet. They’ll come in time.

In the past few years, my dad has been on a genealogy kick. He’s spent hours and hours at the archives digging through files and birth certificates and has managed to trace my mom’s family all the way back to the Revolutionary War.

We’ve known for a while my mom’s side was directly related to William Wellman, who directed Wings, the first movie to win an Academy Award for Best Picture. 

We also discovered I’m related to Walter Wellman, an explorer and journalist who attempted to reach the North Pole via airship. It’s cool anyway, but it’s even cooler that he had that amazing mustache to go along with him.

The most exciting discovery of all, though, was yet to come. My dad found out a few days ago I’m actually related to Jack London through my mom’s side. Suddenly, it’s like my whole life makes sense. Why else would a 9 year old girl so dearly love London’s work and someday aspire to race in the Iditarod?

What do you think? Can you see the resemblance? It turns out the Call of the Wild is just in my DNA.