Stacks and piles
February 10, 2010
I like to say that I never finished moving in four years ago. I suppose it’s more accurate to say that I never finished unpacking. It’s entirely true that I simply have too much crap.
Meet my kitchen table. I used to eat meals on it, back when it was in my former apartment. But ever since it moved into my condo, it has pretty much been in this state. I have yet to sit at it and eat a meal. There is plenty of room to put all that stuff elsewhere.
It just hasn’t seemed very important to liberate it. It is in a disadvantaged location. I informally envision that I would sit at the near end in this photo, which is out of eyeshot of my main television. If I sat at the other end, I’d be able to see my small, auxiliary TV. I have never though that I’d sit at the long side, because who wants to face a blank wall?
That I live alone also instills no sense of urgency about the project. I have a quite large desk that is in eyeshot of the big TV and that makes a very nice dinner table. Even the cats eat there (though that’s because my desk is the only stable, easy-to-get-to location for their food that is inaccessible to my mountain goat of a rabbit).
It becomes inconvenient when my parents visit, but we have gotten used to gathering at the coffee table in the front room for those group meals. On their last visit, though, my mom brought a little TV table because she had gotten tired of bending over to her plate on the low coffee table. (We were never plate-in-the-lap eaters.)
The kitchen table isn’t the only location that suffers from piles of stuff. Even the high-traffic front corner of my desk is always fighting off a stack. This one developed over the course of a 24-hour stretch when I thought I was going to get to some writing, which I do on my laptop. There was the envelope of related work materials, a catalog from our main client, a new book that I’m trying to get to reading, and the TV and stereo remotes and my iPhone, which always live on that corner. Then I grew the stack by adding nearby items, just for fun.
I have been trying to gear up to follow along with the Fly Lady, who gets you to declutter by tackling it 15 minutes at a time. Seems pretty reasonable, if I’d only actually do it. Maybe tomorrow. Probably not.
I miss Heidi Collins
January 26, 2010
And I watch too much TV. My friends will be used to my saying periodically that I should just ditch Comcast, watch what I need to online or with Netflix, and generally spend more time doing things other than watching shows.
However, I have yet to quite work up enough courage to actually go through with it. I tried once about five years ago, but then the gal on the other end offered to give me my service for half price for six months. How could I refuse? Then about a year ago I called again to cancel the TV part, but the gal on the other end reminded me that my TV and internet were bundled and that if I dropped the TV the price of the internet would go up, but if I kept the TV, it would only be $15 a month more than with internet alone. How could I refuse, when the TV package was supposedly worth $40? Bastards.I should get rid of it
January 16, 2010
My first home computer was this Macintosh Performa 631CD. You can see how much I still use it. So I ought to get rid of it, right? I don’t hang on to it because I’m overly sentimental or because I like to keep stuff. I hang on to it mostly because it came to rest in a place that doesn’t inconvenience me. Therefore, it requires no immediate action. And I’m all about not taking immediate action.
I should take action though. I have so many things that, well, let’s face it, I haven’t thought about at least since I moved over four years ago. If I haven’t needed it, let alone thought about it, in four years, I ought to just get rid of it, right?
What sorts of thing are taking up space in my place?
Old electronics. The Performa, an old CD stereo component, various small things such as extra headphones, cables, and so on.
Clothing. Oh, don’t even get me started. When I was packing up my old place, I made one separate box of shirts and too-small jeans that I will never wear again. Where is that box? In my bedroom closet. And speaking of my closet, most of the other clothes hanging in it I never wear. Some of the items are too small to be sure, but the collection also includes many shirts with collars. I have developed an aversion to wearing things that give my hair space to go into and bug me.
Cookware. I could lighten that load by about two-thirds, probably. Again, there are things in my cupboards that I can’t even think of the last time I used them, but some of them are specialized and you never know when you will need them, such as the bundt cake pan, Grandma’s apple masher, the springform pan. The only square/rectangular pans I use anymore are the Pyrex ones. The metal ones suck.
Miscellaneous. In the back of one of my walk-in closets is a box of fabric and patterns that I will never make. My bookcases are full of useless and/or meaningless books (except, of course, for the ones I wrote). My other bookcases are full of cookbooks that I never consult.
So on and so forth.
Chick in a tin can
January 3, 2010
“Show us the road ahead.” How apropos that this came up at the new year. This is a subject I’ve been giving a lot of thought to lately. I feel like I am at a crossroads in my life. It might even be a midlife crisis, as it is only three and a half years until I’m 50 and I don’t feel like I’ve done anything particularly outstanding in or with my life.
There. I said it. 50. God, that sounds horrible when I say it out loud, especially since most of you (who I know) are younger than I, in some cases quite a bit younger, or even so much younger you’re like the children I never had! Well, at least I don’t act that old. I take some comfort in that.
You may rest assured that I will not be purchasing a red convertible.
What this crossroads business boils down to is that I feel under some time pressure to accomplish my goal of getting to London. I have set an arbitrary time frame to do it by the time I’m 50—my geographical clock is ticking. The older I get, the less job-marketable I will be, especially in another country. Hell, the less job-marketable I am in my own country. The older I get, the older my parents get. Think being an only child’s a breeze? I’ll have no one to help me with my parents in their dotage. I would like a few years to enjoy myself in England. Selfish? Yes. When I was in my 30s, I figured reproducing was the way to achieve fulfillment. That didn’t happen. Now all I can come up with is doing this huge thing for myself that at the moment seems quite monumental indeed. I ponder the idea of volunteering as a different way of developing inner peace, but it hasn’t quite taken hold.
So what I said this afternoon was that I need to resolve to put effort into taking the steps necessary to achieve the London goal, or I accept that my life will go on as before because average is just the way I am. I have ambitions but little followthrough.
And that’s what I like about sharing, even though I hardly know most of you. I was quickly encouraged to be better than average. I was quickly admonished for “premeditating” to choose to remain average (I interpret it as admonishment, let me run with that). Both sentiments are inspiring in their own way.
I feel change pecking at the shell, trying to get out.
Image from Shutterstock
A funny thing happened because of the forum
December 11, 2009
An interesting transformation is taking place. I have noticed in the last week or so that I am watching significantly less television. I have had that goal for a long, long time but didn’t really take it seriously. I don’t mind the sitting around part of staring at the tube, but then suddenly a whole Saturday will have passed without accomplishing anything of consequence or even inconsequence, and I do mind that. Not doing anything contributes to my general feeling of lack of accomplishment in the big picture of my life.
Participating in Tweak Today seems to be changing that. At first, it was just the taking of a photo everyday. A lot of the time, you don’t really have to think too hard about the assignment, but sometimes you have a great opportunity to be truly creative. I was already feeling good about that little spark. Then, inspired by Emily’s blogwriting, I realized that I could use the Tweak Today mission as the inspiration for my own daily missive. And so, since November 1, I have been doing a pretty darned good job keeping up with it. As a consequence, when I come home after work I don’t turn on the television. No, instead I grab my iBook and write the day’s entry. In fact, it’s gotten to the point where I set a timer for myself because I’m spending too much time writing. Things seem to be snowballing. Last weekend, I left the tv off for a large part of both days and instead DID STUFF. And with today’s mission to Draw a Picture (as well as a few previous drawing missions), I find myself contemplating DRAWING every day, too. What is happening to me? At this rate I may finally follow through on my frequent threats to cancel my cable tv subscription. No, not that one, that’s still crazy talk. But I might find myself finally putting together a portfolio website. I might finally finish unpacking from my move four years ago. I might sort and get rid of a whole bunch of stuff I know I don’t need to keep around. I might begin to take tangible baby steps toward the London goal. All because I drew a beer bottle.Why I love the movie ???Legally Blonde???
December 3, 2009
On the surface you’re all, this is some dumb chickflick about a little sorority Barbie who wants to get her boyfriend back. But it’s really a tale of amazing determination and personal growth. I find it inspiring.
The scene pictured above (©MGM, no doubt) is when Elle Woods decides that to regain the respect and interest of said boyfriend, she has to become a serious law student, the kind of girl the boyfriend’s brother is engaged to. She doesn’t give any thought to how impossible it seems to everybody else that she thinks she can gain admission to Harvard. She doggedly sets about the various tasks that need to be accomplished in her mission, and the next thing you know, there she is at Harvard orientation. After a few more setbacks, her determination kicks into overdrive and she gradually becomes the person no one gave her credit for ever possibly becoming. What I love about the character is that regardless of her misguided reason for making her decision in the first place, she sets a daunting goal, makes it happen, and as a result has incredible personal growth. I can learn a lot from Elle Woods. (The sequel wasn’t nearly as good.)You???re gonna make it after all
November 24, 2009
I was talking to a new friend yesterday who wondered if maybe I wasn’t being a little unnecessarily hard on myself with all this talk of laziness and lack of motivation and sitting on my bum like some big old theater that’s been languishing without renovation for the last 10 years. So tonight I thought that, instead of regretting that I hadn’t written a proper entry last Friday when the topic was “Take something apart” and I had planned on that something being myself, I would try to look at myself a little objectively in the other direction and maybe see what he does.
[As a completely unrelated aside, those were two pretty long sentences. One of my current work projects is writing about science for six- or seven-year-olds. We must keep word count per sentence as small as possible, and vocabulary as simple. I feel very decadent with those two opening sentences written for adults!] It’s human nature to be hard on yourself and to have difficulty believing that you measure up to anyone else. In the end, you are your own worst critic. So what have I done for myself lately? As detailed in “Work out, work hard,” I have managed to keep up a workout regimen for eight months now. That’s pretty amazing. How many people do you know who buy the gym membership, go for a couple of weeks, and then just throw away the auto-payment every month? Maybe you’re one of them. GO TO THE GYM! Another unexpected achievement is how I’ve kept up with writing this blog for the last few weeks. Granted, I missed a few days last week, but that’s because my work schedule has gone into warp drive until the end of December. I try to do a little overtime on the evenings I’m home, and last week I had just gotten so tired that I had to mind my health and go to bed rather than stay up for another hour working on this. It’s been very exhilarating writing again. Part of the reason why I’m anxious to keep up with the daily entries is because I see it as practice for my second career as some sort of writer. And I see my second career as some sort of writer as part of what will facilitate my move to London. I may be deluded on that point but I don’t care. I’m having fun! HAVE FUN! I guess to an outsider, all the kids’ books that I’ve written for work might seem a little noteworthy. To me, it’s just what I’ve been doing every day for 12 years. I am completely blasé about it. But when I look at this photo of all of the books that I’ve authored together on my bookshelf, even I smile, cross my arms, and nod to myself. GIVE YOURSELF CREDIT! Maybe even my avid participation on the TweakToday.com website could be viewed as achievement but I think that’s stretching it. Still, DO SOMETHING NEW EVERY DAY! Okay, that’s all I’ve got. * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * The inspiration for tonight’s entry was the assignment of photographing a local public sculpture. I chose the bronze Mary Tyler Moore on Nicollet Mall, which is near where I work. The title comes from the lyrics of the theme song for the tv show, which I wanted to include in the vein of positive self-affirmation; I found a couple of videos of an early version (note that Mary’s driving a 1970 Ford Mustang—I wasn’t the only girl who liked them!) and a later version of the opening montage instead. In the Wikipedia entry about the show, I learned things about Mary that are now kind of interesting since I’ve lived in the Twin Cities for a long time, including that the deluxe apartment that she moved on up to was in the complex of now-not-glamorous high rises in my current home neighborhood.Work out, work hard
November 11, 2009
Here’s where I wax enthusiastic about how I’ve actually stuck with working out since the end of March. If you’ve read the Inertia and Inertia 2 posts, you’ll know I’m not the most motivated person in the world. But I do like being healthy.
A couple of years ago, my weight had crept up to the highest ever. Not outrageously high, but higher than it should be. It was then that I began to embrace the South Beach philosophy of healthy eating. In a nutshell: eat lots of veggies and salad, cheese and eggs, moderate portions of meat. Small portions of whole grains. Avoid the white versions of things (flour, sugar, rice). Red wine is permitted. Potatoes and beer are the devil. Beer is the devil. For a couple of months I was very diligent and the pounds melted away. Then I became complacent because it seemed so easy. I’m still about 15 pounds down from that high point. About five pounds come and go, depending on how I’m eating and what time of the month it is. That old cliché? Well, if you’re a woman you know it’s true. The devil is in the details. I would say I’m about 50% compliant to the South Beach guidelines. If I gave up beer, that would rise to about 75%. Uh oh. I just need to have a little willpower and then I could make the food/pounds part of my healthy self kick back into gear. I don’t have willpower. I let myself not have willpower. Maybe that’s part of the problem with other areas of my life that lack accomplishment. This entry isn’t meant to be about weight and pounds. I want you to be amazed that after seven and a half months, my lazy self is still on a regular workout schedule of usually three times a week, always at least two, and only two or three times, only once a week. It’s never been more than seven days in between workouts. The magic bean? Curves for Women. About five or six years ago, I had belonged to Curves. I stuck with it for five months that time and loved it. Then I faded away, and then I moved. Last March, my coworker mentioned that she had joined her local Curves and I thought, hmm. I’m as out of shape as I’ve ever been, I like Curves, there’s one near the office, okay I’m signing up again. Plus this time around, my health insurance reimburses me about 40% of the fee if I go at least eight times a month. Not a problem. I love Curves even more now than I did then. For those of you unfamiliar with Curves, it’s a 30-minute workout. There are 12 machines, each of which works a different muscle group. You do a machine for 30 seconds, then move to a recovery station where you step or run or box or whatever in place for 30 seconds. Then on the next machine for 30 seconds, recover for 30 seconds and so on, until you’ve been on machines 22 times. That’s a total of 11 minutes working your muscles. Doesn’t sound like much, does it? That’s why I like it. It doesn’t seem like much when you’re doing it, either. But boy, is it a workout. You get what you give. The harder you push, the more resistance there is in the hydraulic pistons. Technology has stepped in since I was previously a member. New is the CurvesSmart Coach, a tag that you put in each machine that tells it how hard to work you based on your previous efforts. Everything saves to the computer so that you can easily track your progress. That’s what the report up top is. Within a month, my improved strength and stamina were obvious as I biked up long, gradual hills on the path along the Mississippi River, the same hills that the previous summer I had had to walk the bike up. It didn’t take me nearly as long to get loosened up for bowling. I jogged up stairs at the Metrodome during baseball games and wasn’t winded when I got to the top. Within the last month or so, I have realized that although I haven’t lost any weight to speak of, my wobbly bits are redistributing. I actually had to buy a smaller belt. I work hard at Curves and I’m beginning to see visual results. I know I haven’t been this fit for a long, long time. I’d really make progress if I could exorcise the devil.Inertia, part 2
November 9, 2009
Today I was asked to describe a problem I have. I volunteered that I am lazy. Maybe lazy isn’t quite the right way to put it. I certainly procrastinate. This body is at rest.
Let me think about this for a while. I don’t remember being lazy when I was a kid. In fact, I was always busy. I liked to draw and color, and listen to records. For a time we lived across the street from the library (the house two doors down from the Methodist Church, for those of you following along) and I was a constant patron. Oh how I loved to read. I made it through all of the Nancy Drew and Hardy Boys books. I played with my friends on my swingset in the back yard. (Memory: I had just woken up from a nap and it seems that my friends had congregated at my swingset without me. My mom told them not to do it again. I was peeking out from behind her silently thinking, “Yeah!”) The swingset didn’t make the trip to our next house because I was that much older, but I still loved to read and we had a nice back porch on which to do it. I developed a whole stable of imaginary horses and spent countless hours working out their pedigrees, making pictures, and reading my numerous horse magazines. I spent hours listening to music. Nope, as a kid I wasn’t lazy. So where did it come from and what can I do about it? I’m not saying I want to go all the way to Type A, but I feel like I’m at about Type G. C would be nice. Time to beat myself up. In college, I always worked well under pressure, in other words, at the last minute. Sure, I have deadlines at work but that’s not what I’m talking about. Maybe it is. Maybe my frail psyche is so wiped out at the end of the work day and week that I just can’t bear the thought of doing anything at home. If that were the case, it would seem pretty dumb, at least on the surface to the outsider looking in. Your brain likes to fool you. No harm to others or the world is coming from my not doing anything. It just lowers my self-esteem. What bothers me about my laziness is the lack of forward progress in my life in general. A large contributing factor to that is that I’m comfortable. I have liked my job for almost 15 years and I can pay my bills. But I’m not happy. I am and I’m not. On the surface, I’m usually in a good mood and I’m an indefatigable optimist and I have self-confidence. But deep down, I feel unfulfilled. For 11 years, I’ve been convinced that living in England is what I need, and yet I’ve done nothing to accomplish it. I know that the longer I wait the less likely it is to happen. Because of my age, I am less and less marketable for a job. Because of my parents’ age, I might feel obligated to take care of them. (Did I mention that I’m an only child? I’m kind of selfish, too. Lazy and selfish.) So what advice have I gotten?- Guilt myself into doing it.
- Give myself a day a week for guilt-free nothingness.
- Procrastination is really a perfectionism issue.
- Get other people to make me feel guilty.
- How would my child-self handle it?
Regardless of which method I employ, it unfortunately still comes down to me, myself, and Kelly. I’ll get back to you on how it’s going. Sometime.
photo © Shutterstock
Inertia
November 7, 2009
This is the Shubert Theater. Ten years ago, the Shubert Theater had its 15 minutes of fame when it became the heaviest structure ever moved, traveling a block and a half through downtown Minneapolis. Grandiose plans were made for its historical preservation and renovation. Then it sat untouched for ten years—a big, cream-colored brick that hasn’t accomplished anything lately. The Shubert Theater is an apt metaphor for my life.
The big thing that I want to accomplish is moving to London, England. I first visited Europe in 1989. I was just about to graduate from college (anecdote: My mom told her friend that I was finally graduating after eight years. Friend: What’s she getting her PhD in? Mom: Oh no, it’s just her Bachelor’s degree.) and my mom, who collects teddy bears, booked herself, my dad, and me on a group tour. It was a pretty interesting time to be toodling around Europe. We arrived and departed from Frankfurt; we were warned not to smile at the East German border patrol across the barbed wire lest they open fire, spent a few days swooning in Vienna, and got incredibly nostalgic driving our motorcoach past the American Embassy in Budapest on the 4th of July. The second teddy bear tour was to the UK in 1998. I knew I had found my soulmate. I can’t explain it, it was just a gut feeling that I was meant to live there. I’m a firm believer in intuition, instincts, and The Spark. It was a splendid two weeks. We spent the first few nights in London, then Brighton, then headed north. There were two nights in the Lake District followed by three nights in North Berwick, Scotland, just to the northeast of Edinburgh. On this trip, I remember that time in North Berwick most fondly, actually. Our hotel was an old Georgian manor with a golf course between it and the Firth of Forth. I spent two of the three evenings walking the beach, singing Del Amitri songs to myself. We ended with a few more nights in London, and by this time I was acclimated and loving it. I dragged my mom along on my pilgrimage to the Dr Marten’s shop in Covent Garden, where I also discovered Lush Soap. I didn’t get too crazy—it was a group tour with my mom after all—but the seeds were sown. I returned home and embraced as much day-to-day culture as I could from Minnesota. I listen to 5 Live Drive nearly every day (still sad that Jane Garvey moved on, though Anita Anand is a firecracker in her own right) and Clive Bull on LBC, and at this very moment I am resisting the urge to bawl like a baby at the way Barry’s treating Pat at Roy’s wake on Eastenders (I’m seven years behind). I made a friend because of LBC and rabbits, and made several trips to London until 2002, when the finances collapsed. The point isn’t for this to be a travelogue. I think you understand that I love England, or my slight experience of it. There are three other germane points. I’m coming up on my 15-year anniversary at my job. Groan. I’m comfortable and so don’t make a change, even though I think about doing so all the time now. For the most part, I have liked going to work every day and I have great bosses. If I didn’t and didn’t, I wouldn’t have. It’s hard to roust yourself when your laziness trumps your desires. I know it’s entirely within my power to effect a change. But I don’t. As well, four years ago I bought a condo. What was I thinking? Because not long after I paid too much for my home, the housing market tanked. I’m trapped in a mortgage for at least five years, I figure, until things begin to turn around. I hope I’ll be surprised that it doesn’t actually take that long. Recently, however, some stuff has happened with regard to my mortgage that lessens my financial constraints. So unfortunately, that will put the focus of failure more squarely on myself with regard to actually accomplishing something related to this dream I’ve had for 11 years. The Shubert and I have been sitting on our asses for a long time. But at least I don’t weigh as much.
Kelly’s Unnecessary Blog 