Blogger's Block

This post is for Angela. She sent me a link to Seth Godin's blog post called Talker's Block. And she said... (and I quote)...

"sometimes you dont write on your blogs for like a hundred years then try to catch up all at once and my eyes get tired because you right epic posts. you should read this and then be inspired to write every single day!! and shorter!!"

My dear, this is for you.

Because it's true. I don't write anything for months and then suddenly here I am talking about weather and jewelry. So epic, right? And probably obnoxious. Sorry. It's because I've made a new year's resolution of sorts. Rather than starting January 1st, though, I'm using the beginning my 26th year of life to actually write more. I'm not just writing on this stupid blog, I promise. I mean, REAL writing. After all, NaNoWriMo is coming up and I told myself I'd get on that boat, dammit, if it's the last thing I do. Of course, I have very low expectations for myself...but expectations nonetheless!

Anyway, taking the advice of Mr. Godin, this is my attempt at simply writing and not worrying about if it's bad, just creating something rather than nothing. And judging by the history of this blog, I'm a big fan of nothing. After all, "zero is perfect and without defects."

So you've just read my short, more than zero, possibly defective, but maybe even better than bad, blog post. Are you happy, Angela?!?

Seasonal Confusion

It's fall in New York City and we all know what that means... Confusion!!! In a place where everyone has to walk everywhere all the time, you have to be outside a lot and this means... Preparation! And since no one quite knows what the weather is really like until we get outside from our sixth floor apartments or what it could become later because the weather report is a lie, we over-prepare and end up lugging umbrellas and jackets around when we don't need them and freezing or soaking when we don't prepare enough. So we prepare, dammit. But we don't always have the same ideas of what this preparation entails...

You see a ridiculous amount of variation in dress during this in-between seasons time. I have waxed poetic about fall and weather before, but it never ceases to amaze me, fall after beautiful fall, spring after glorious spring... Shorts and sandals next to long coats and sweaters. Sundresses continue to abound while new leather boots are suddenly everywhere. And EVERYONE is wearing a goddamn scarf. Including me. Still, I find myself flabbergasted while trying to get dressed in the morning.

"Wait, I can't just wear a dress and flip flops? Uhh... Maybe things should match, kind of. Shit, I have to wear SOCKS? This is ridiculous! Gah, I'm late now! SOCKS!"

I get flabbergasted at the various details involved and try to find the simplest solution possible. Top, bottoms, shoes. Jackets and scarves and belts can go to hell! I should only be required to wear three pieces of clothing, dammit, it's still summer! Right?!? I end up in a navy blue sweater, houndstooth pants, and brown Oxfords. I catch a glimpse of my rather masculine reflection in the subway windows and realize that my autumn attire makes me look a little less than straight. I decide that maybe I should try harder to still look decent even in this confusing time. Just because I have to wear pants doesn't mean I need to dress like a boy, right? I can still be pretty in pants??

Then I get on the train and see girls who look like models who probably actually are models wearing perfect pants with perfect boots and perfect jackets and perfect scarves and they have actually ACCESSORIZED in addition to wearing more then three items of clothing and then I really feel shitty and inadequate.Then I see them taking off the jacket because it's too hot and I feel a sense of victory.

I get off the train and follow too-high heels up too-high steps and feel happy that I chose to wear manly shoes. I won't fall down, no I will not! And I walk down Broadway in the cool rain and see a middle-aged woman wearing flat black knee-high boots with OPEN TOES and I completely lose faith in humanity and decide to just stop trying. Yet I feel strangely elated. Everyone is apparently just as confused as I am, except that they actually spent money trying to look fashionable and failed miserably, and I look like crap for cheap! Woohoo!

New York, thanks for reminding me that I will never be fashionable and that I will always be confused about my wardrobe. And thanks for reminding me that your finicky weather and endless sidewalks and large supply of beautiful people will never, ever remedy this. But also thanks for also having an endless supply of people who are even worse dressers than I am. In a crowd of eight million, I don't look so bad after all.

Things

It's 12:01 a.m. and I should be in bed. Not just IN bed, but asleep. Not reading, but sleeping! I could have just curled up with a book (right now it's Run River by Joan Didion), but noooo. I felt the need to express myself.

I accomplished something on my list from the other week. I sorted through my jewelry! I got rid of a ton of stuff and filled an entire shoebox of things that I never wear and will soon send them off to my dear friend. These are not terrible things. They are things I used to love. Things my mother used to love. Thing I never wore. Things I forgot I had. Things I can't believe I ever bought in the first place. Things I got as gifts so I have an excuse for not liking them so I shouldn't feel bad about getting rid of them. Things I don't like. Things I don't need. Things, things, things. Now I've gotten to the point where I've repeated the word "things" to the point that it sounds weird and has lost its meaning. And I'm not just talking about jewelry now, am I?

I mean STUFF. Whew... For the most part, it's just that I don't have time for all of it... I don't have space for these things... these objects... materials.... I don't have physical, mental, or emotional space. There's only so many things one can be attached to, but how to choose? It's hard, so I don't choose. I cling. I have a difficult time letting go. I'm a hoarder! No I'm not, but I probably could be. I watched a show on animal hoarding tonight and, among other things, it made me want a bunch of tiny kittens and birds and puppies. That's NOT the point of the show. It made me think of my deceased pets and I got sad. Moving on...

When I was cleaning up my dresser and getting rid of stuff and forcing myself to throw away bobby pins rather than save them (but you always need them!) because they were mixed in with clothing tags and those little plastic things that clothing tags are attached with and dirt and other random bits of stuff, I thought of my childhood bedroom. It was always a mess, but it was my glorious mess. Much like my room today, except that I share it with a guy and he probably hates his life. Anyway, at one point in my childhood I decorated my window with CANDY WRAPPERS. This is not a joke. Someone gave me a pack of some sort of delicious, fruit-flavored, European hard candies that came in these magnificent little classic looking wrappers that made me feel like I was picnicking in the Italian countryside or sitting in some little Parisian cafe. So I saved the wrappers in a box and stumbled across them a few years later and finally one day, flattened them all out and taped them down the side of my window in "rainbow order" of course: red, orange, yellow, green, blue, purple. And that's where they stayed until I moved out of there at age 17.

I look on my bookshelf and see books that I have owned for years, books I never really had an interest in reading since I got them as gifts or secondhand, and then one day decided to pick up... and I loved them, so now of course I can't let them go. And still, there are books I have owned for years and I still have no interest in reading. It's just that I hope one day I will. And so I think I keep all of these things for hopeful reasons, thinking that one day this piece of clothing will suddenly come back into style or I will shrink down to fit into it again (they've both been known to happen), that this piece of jewelry I never wore will suddenly seem beautiful (it's also happened), and maybe one day I'll actually light that candle or put flowers in that vase or draw in that sketchbook or put that picture in a goddamn frame. More likely I won't. But the hope is there.

And until that hope dies, as it thankfully did for everything that sits in that shoebox this evening, I will be mired in things. In stuff. In materials. In confusion, mostly... But at least I will always have something to read. Or wear. Or give away... Which is probably the best hope for me at this point. Any takers?

Listless

I am not an organized person. I have a jumble of things in my head that need to get done and sometimes I do them, sometimes I don't, and the tasks just hover there in non-list form waiting desperately to be listified but forever resigned to their drifting, cloudlike existence. O, the agony!

But then she made a list. And so did she. So I thought, "I can do that! I make a list! I will make a list of things I need to accomplish! And then I will accomplish them! Because I made a list!" But I am a procastinator, and so the longer I go without making a list, the longer I go without completing the things on it. Damn.

Anyway, here goes...

1. Write on this blog more. Because I need a creative outlook. And besides, just look at it! I redesigned it and now it's pretty! So I should put words on it! Pretty words!

2. And in order for me to write more and not have my boyfriend tell me to stop getting lost in the blogosphere instead of cleaning and/or doing anything productive... I should clean my apartment very thoroughly. This is very necessary and only sort of got done this weekend... Oops.

3. Part of cleaning my apartment will be to FINALLY organize my clothing and jewelry. This will entail getting rid of a lot of stuff I don't wear and use. And I mean A LOT. This will be a huge endeavor and I'm not excited. But it's time to clean house. This will also entail getting a lot of clothing I've acquired over the years hemmed so that I actually wear them.

4. And in order to wear some of the pants I bought maybe two years ago, I should probably shed some pounds that I picked up because I got ridiculously lazy this summer after going to Ireland and eating nothing but meat and potatoes and then not doing a damn thing about it... Veggies!

5. Speaking of Ireland, I need to upload the something like 1,200 pictures I took while I was there. Too bad my dad has the camera and memory cards and this will not be as easy as I thought and it will also be a huge time suck.

6. And because my summer travels also sucked my savings account pretty dry, I need to get my finances in order. My economic life is in shambles! Sad face.

7. Also because I need to fix up my economic state, I need to finally be a grownup and get a credit card so I can have a credit score. This is now nonexistent. Sad. I am a failure at adulthood.

8. Speaking of getting a credit card, I should buy less stuff! I've actually been very good about this recently. I didn't even buy any shoes this summer! Oh wait, that is a lie, I bought a pair of gold flip flops from Housing Works to wear to a wedding and then realized they are uncomfortable and slippery and that I already had three pairs of gold sandals. Dammit. But they were $10! For charity! From Banana Republic! And in great shape! Still, no more buying crap, only quality things for good prices. Or better yet, just don't buy anything.

9. Speaking of charity, when I was rolling in tax-free, whiskey-induced dough, I started making monthly charitable contributions to a number of organizations, mostly those that help cute kitties and puppies and abused children. I realize now this is stupid and if I'm going to make a donation, I should just pick one charity and actually make a real difference. So I will consolidate these donations into one or two. Like the American Humane Assocation. They encompass EVERYTHING I believe. Down with child abuse! Down with animal abuse! Up with animal therapy! Up with scientific research on the human-animal connection in order to make positive policy change! For puppies! And kids! YES! Also now I'm poor. Sad face again...

10. And since I work for a nonprofit that I really like a lot, I should probably work my fucking ass off to be really awesome and be super duper professional and finally apply to graduate school for a Master's of Public Administration. Shazam!

There. That's my list.

Let's see if anything actually comes of it.