A new self-concept personal growth experiment

My dad, being the strange and reflective creature that he is, posited an idea to the family last night, after our nice winding conversation of existentialism, the sexual revolution, quotations on morality by Joni Mitchell (who is slowly becoming a new hero of mine), brilliant methods of Rick-rolling (Never gonna GIVE YOU UP), the futures of Colin Meloy, Conor Oberst, Miley Cyrus, Lady Gaga and Brad Pit, and occasional intrusive comments from me bemoaning my lame problems.
It being still the first week of the year, Dad suggests that we all write down and seal in an envelope until next year, three things we hope for in 2010, and two things we hope won't happen in 2010.
My thoughts are quite provoked. Even though Ben made strong attempts to turn it into a contest and see who had the most correct predictions (I admit, I rather supported the idea at first), we all left the gathering that night with our brains a-churning.

What do I want this year? What do I want to avoid? There are the obvious things, like uhhh I want Andrew to come home safely. I'm not gonna say "I want to go to grad school," because I'm not sure that's what I want yet. I want to... not get hit by a train (Lots of respectable people have been hit by trains. Judge Hobbie over in Cookville was hit by a train.)
So my hopes have to be deeper than that-- it can't just be plans or desires or even resolutions. I think I'm very much at a crossroads in my life, and, as Amy says in Little Women, "we'll all grow up some day. We might as well know what we want."
But I don't know what I want. Ben asked the question to Mum and dad last night- "when you were our age, what did you expect or want your lives to be by now?" My parents' answers made me rather jealous. Mum said, "Well, I wanted to make pottery and have a bunch of kids one day, and I have exactly that." Then Ben asked Dad, "Are us kids what you expected?" and Dad said, "No, it's so much better. This is every parent's dream--to sit and talk and have real relationships with their kids once they're grown."
I just don't know what I want. I know some basic things--I want to write, I want to travel before I have children, and I want to share every moment of my life with Andrew. But where do I start? I feel like I'm waiting for something, a sign, a great opportunity, a change, and I don't know what it is.
Maybe in answer to Dad's experiment, I should say "I hope I find my path in 2010."