New Year’s resolutions remind me of tired Clinton/Lewinsky jokes that aren’t good enough to leave a stain (see what I did there?).
I used to make resolutions every year until I realized it’s all a part of society’s maniacal plan to turn us into productive, focused and disciplined individuals. By maintaining a steady routine, I’m able to break and reinstate every New Year’s resolution multiple times throughout the year, which means my resolutions are green because I recycle them year after year (Al Gore says it’s good for the environment). These recycled resolutions are:
1. Quit smoking (Or only smoke when I drink. Cocktail anyone?)
2. Lose ____ pounds (This year we are in the double double digits.)
3. Stop complaining so much (But it’s so hard!)
4. Eat healthier (These cookies are organic.)
5. Write more (Why not? No one reads this crap anyway.)
Usually I start the New Year off by attacking these resolutions with gusto for at least two days before I get bored and forget about them until March, but something about 2009 left a bad taste in my mouth and I’m not ready to face another year of the same resolutions. When I thought about changing my resolutions I was put off by the thought of anything coming before these five main goals, which I’ve become attached to over the years. Still, it’s like I keep hitting the snooze button on 2010. At this point, February is looking like a much better time to start working towards having Jenny McCarthy’s body by bathing suit season. But then I thought, “I can’t start on my New Year’s resolutions while people still have their Christmas lights up!” and because I live in Kansas City, this means I won’t get started on my resolutions until mid-March, maybe April (people really like their Christmas decorations here). But if I manage to accomplish one of those five goals this year, does it really matter when I start trying? Besides, January is the coldest, most depressing, uneventful month of the year and it’s hilarious to think I’m going to accomplish anything while I wait out this misery from the comfort of my couch.
For me, resolutions are like empty boxes wrapped in beautiful paper artfully adorned with ribbons and bows—meaningless, but nice as decoration. I won't be fooled into self-improvement this year just to set unreasonable expectations for myself and wallow in the disappointment of inevitable failure. So, to media targeting my guilt and feelings of inadequacy at the start of the New Year: Stop bombarding me with your resolution suggestions, top tens, anecdotes, advice and try reporting on something relevant, like how to shovel a driveway with a fork when everyone is sold out of snow shovels.
Maybe I’ll jump on the resolution bandwagon in June when everyone has given up hope and canceled their gym memberships, but for now I plan to focus on not bettering myself until I’m ready. So goodbye to 2009, I’m off like an intern’s blue dress and onto 2010.
Showing posts with label Advice. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Advice. Show all posts
Tuesday, January 12, 2010
Sunday, November 22, 2009
How To NOT Do Laundry
- Assess your laundry basket: Is it overflowing onto the floor? Is it almost too heavy to carry (i.e., does it weigh eleventybillion pounds)? No – it’s not laundry time yet. Yes – it’s laundry time.
- Carry laundry basket to the washer and dryer. Set it down on top of one of these machines (unless you’re fancy and have special cool machines, in which case, go to hell, I mean, set it on the ground) and walk away for several hours and/or days.
- Are you on your second or more day of wearing dirty underwear? No – meh, another day won’t kill you. Yes – proceed to step #4.
- Return to abandoned basket in laundry area. Open the lid of the washer and find clothes already in there from a load you started a couple weeks ago. Decide you’ll just go commando.
- After a day of realizing how uncomfortable it is to go commando – open washer lid and remove the old, formerly wet but now hard, moldy clothes.
- Discover that the dryer is also still full from another previous load. At this point you should let out a scream of anguish and frustration about how unfair life is. Then pile the wet laundry from the washer on top of closest open area (e.g., top of the dryer).
- Start grabbing items out of the dirty laundry basket and put them in the washer. Put as much as you possibly can in the washer – you should need to sit on the lid in order to make it close. (Do not bother separating items by color as this will take more time away from your precious non-laundry time.)
- Wash on whatever setting matches your mood. (I like the notch somewhere between Regular and Permanent Press, but I fluctuate between Warm/Cold and Cold/Cold.)
- Move on to something else and immediately forget that you started about laundry.
- Wake up the next morning to find that you still don’t have underwear. Retrieve a wet pair from the washer and throw them in the dryer. Wait 10 to 20 minutes.
- Realize that said underwear is now lost in an overstuffed dryer. Pull everything out of the dryer and onto the floor, preferably next to the pile of dried dog barf and mud. Find underwear stuck inside a pair of pants. Leave other dry clothes on the floor because you do not have time to deal with laundry right now.
- Return after a stressful workday and decide tonight will be the night you finish your laundry. For real.
- Gather dry laundry from floor. Spend several seconds analyzing proximity of dog barf and mud; smell the clothes. Do they smell clean? Yes – they are clean. No – dude, they are clean enough.
- Toss dry clothes into laundry basket. Take basket full of dry, clean-ish clothes and put it on top of your bed, which will surely force you to fold them before going to sleep.
- Remove newly washed clothes and throw them in the dryer. Again, pick a setting that corresponds with you present mood. (I tend to prefer Mostly Dry/Medium Heat/Fluff.)
- Decide the old, wet clothes piled on top of the dryer now need to be rewashed because Febreeze won’t cover up that mold smell (trust me). See step #7.
- Now you’re tired, and despite the buzzer alerting you every 15 minutes that a load of laundry has completed its cycle, you’ve already decided that tomorrow will be the day you finish your laundry. For real. (This also means you can skip folding the basket of clean-ish clothes on the bed and just put it on the ground next to your closet.)
- Wake up the following morning and retrieve clothing as necessary from the dryer. Repeat for 3 to 4 days.
- When roommate/spouse tells you they need to do their laundry and they start asking you annoying, inconsiderate questions like, “Do you know when you’ll be done with the washer and dryer?” tell them you’re “Right on top of that, Rose!” even if you’re not really on top of it.
- At some point during the next couple of days, acknowledge your laundry situation. Set the dryer to 30 minutes/Tumble Press. Walk away. This will give you enough time to completely forget about doing laundry for another week.
- Do not return to laundry area again until you have acquired another loads-worth of dirty laundry. Realize that you’ve been putting your dirty clothes in the basket of unfolded clean-ish clothes, which you never folded after removing from dryer two-plus weeks ago.
- Start over at #1 and repeat steps as necessary. (Alternative: wait for your roommate/spouse to remove your clothes, fold them for you and place them in your room.)
Tuesday, November 17, 2009
Words of Wisdom, or Lies Our Parents Told Us
1. “Your face will stick that way.”
Uh, no it won’t. I’ve made plenty of awesome faces before and I have not found a way to make my face stick in any of those positions. This was one of those parentisms that I heard at least once a day as a child. I was the kid who spent hours contorting her face and crossing her eyes in various unnatural ways to impress my friends and serve as entertainment during my parents’ dinner parties. Although it took me many years, I have finally perfected the one eye crossed look, so maybe “your face will stick that way” isn’t entirely untrue.
2. “The Boogieman isn’t real.”
Yes, he is. He lives in the dark corners of all my fears and anxieties, and one of these days he is going to pop out of the slightly ajar closet in my room and eat my toes.
3. “Only boring people are bored.”
I’m bored right now. Am I boring? Don’t answer that. When we were growing up, my sister and I had a babysitter named Faye who used to say this to us. Whenever I approached her with those fateful three words, “I am bored,” her answer was always the same, “Well get un-bored! Only boring people are bored!” Boring people might be bored a lot, but you know what? Super interesting and awesome people are bored a lot too because super interesting and awesome shit just doesn’t happen regularly enough to keep their attention. Ha, so there! Your move, babysitter, your move.
4. “Someday, you could be President!”
It’s 1992, an election year, and I am eight years old. One day, instead of going outside for recess, I stayed inside to make friendship bracelets (for my friends who were outside playing during recess, I guess?) and I started asking my 3rd grade teacher, Mrs. Englebright, about the presidents. I wanted to know specifics—what kind of toys do presidents like, do they watch TV, what are their favorite colors, do they carry guns or ninja swords? As my
teacher patiently answered all of my questions, she proceeded to tell me that just about anyone could be President, “You could even be the first female President,” she said. I remember thinking I must be infinitely special for her to tell me this until the next day when she decided to incorporate a lesson plan about Presidents (undoubtedly spurred by my questioning) and told the entire class, “Someday, one of you, any of you, could be President!” Seriously? Anyone? I was dejected. As I grew older I realized that my teacher was partially right, just about any asshat could end up as the President.
This is an old wives’ tale that I will forever blame for my perpetually dry hair. But guess what? Scientists discovered that, like most wives’ tales, this one was totally made up. These days, if I leave the house with dry hair, it’s abnormal. I see wet hair almost as a courtesy, like, “Hey, just wanted to share with you the evidence of my shower this morning. I realize my cleanliness, or lack there of, might be an issue some days, but not today!”
6. “_____ are just jealous of you!”
That group of 7th grade girls who spent a week putting fake love notes from the cutest, most popular boy in school in my locker did not do it because they were jealous of me. And I didn’t fail to get invited to the party of the year because the hosts were jealous of me. And I didn’t get laid off and spend six months searching for a job because someone was jealous of me. Seriously, thank god I was born with low self-esteem because otherwise I might be walking around acting like another Kardashian.
7. “Money can’t buy you happiness.”
I don’t know about you, but a mansion on the beach with a live-in gourmet cook and masseuse, a collector’s library of first edition books, and a little person with an Italian accent who brings me a frozen cocktail with one of those tiny umbrellas whenever I blow into a conch shell would make me pretty damn happy. Don’t get deep with me about this; complicating happiness with silly things like morals is so unnecessary. So, let’s be real: Mansion + beach + cook + masseuse + books + little person + tiny umbrellas = Happiness. You might call that shallow and materialistic, but I call it blissfully content — toe-may-toe, to-my-toe.
8. Santa Claus, The Easter Bunny and The Tooth Fairy
A part of my childhood ended when I suddenly I realized that all of these gift-bearing creatures looked a lot like my dad. Nevertheless, I can’t wait to have kids so that I can endlessly threaten them with, “If you don’t go to bed, Santa Claus won’t bring you any presents,” even if it’s May. The Easter Bunny was always confusing to me because, why would a human-sized rabbit come to your house and hide eggs? As long as candy was involved, I didn’t question anything – but for the record, I always knew the Easter Bunny was a sham. (And, okay, so what if I still sort of believe in the Tooth Fairy?)
9. “Boys only want one thing.”
My dad used to say this to me during my teen years. “Now, remember, boys only want one thing, and I know this because I was once a boy too, even though that’s hard to believe now, I was, so I know. [Awkward pause.] Just don’t be stupid, okay?” While it didn’t take me long to figure out what that one thing was for sure, I think this statement is only half true. Now that I live with a boy, I mean, man, I’m pretty sure that there could be more than one thing that they want…I’ll let you know when I figure it out.
10. “Going to college will make you a better decision maker.”
Bullshit. Going to college did not make me a better decision maker. The only thing I learned in college was how to make really bad decisions, barely avoid the repercussions and then do exactly the same thing again the next weekend. Of course, in a really roundabout way, perhaps by learning to make bad decisions well, I did become a better overall decision maker. However, I doubt this is what my high school counselor meant while he was convincing us all to spend four years drunk, I mean, go to college.
12. “I promise, it won’t hurt.”
Whenever someone says, “I promise it won’t hurt,” just know that whatever it is will hurt like shit.
13. “You’ll grow out of this phase.”
Oh really? Well I am about to enter my 13th year of what a school nurse once referred to as my “awkward phase,” so this is obviously a lie. I’m guessing there are some things we may never grow out of, or, in my case, awkwardness is more of an unfortunate characteristic as opposed to a phase.
14. Almost anything said, seen or practiced in Sex Education classes.
No, a bird doesn’t bring me my period, and yes, I am pissed about it. Also, forcing us to practice putting condoms on bananas did nothing but provide us with unrealistic expectations, which would be met with massive disappointment later in life. Am I right? Of course I am.
15. “These are the best years of your life.”
This phrase was uttered by almost every adult I knew at one point during the course of my high school experience. I know they were telling me to cherish my youth, but the only thing I ever thought was, “Really? These are the best years of my life? Really? Great, I guess I’ll just quit now, while I’m apparently ahead, because if life doesn’t get any better than field parties and 6 a.m. detention for chewing gum in the halls, then I don’t care to go on.” I can safely say that my high school years were not the best years of my life and I doubt I will ever look back and feel differently.
What lies did you hear growing up? Tell me about them in the comments. Please. I'm not ashamed to admit that I live for comments - so don't hold back.
Uh, no it won’t. I’ve made plenty of awesome faces before and I have not found a way to make my face stick in any of those positions. This was one of those parentisms that I heard at least once a day as a child. I was the kid who spent hours contorting her face and crossing her eyes in various unnatural ways to impress my friends and serve as entertainment during my parents’ dinner parties. Although it took me many years, I have finally perfected the one eye crossed look, so maybe “your face will stick that way” isn’t entirely untrue.
2. “The Boogieman isn’t real.”
Yes, he is. He lives in the dark corners of all my fears and anxieties, and one of these days he is going to pop out of the slightly ajar closet in my room and eat my toes.
3. “Only boring people are bored.”
I’m bored right now. Am I boring? Don’t answer that. When we were growing up, my sister and I had a babysitter named Faye who used to say this to us. Whenever I approached her with those fateful three words, “I am bored,” her answer was always the same, “Well get un-bored! Only boring people are bored!” Boring people might be bored a lot, but you know what? Super interesting and awesome people are bored a lot too because super interesting and awesome shit just doesn’t happen regularly enough to keep their attention. Ha, so there! Your move, babysitter, your move.
4. “Someday, you could be President!”
It’s 1992, an election year, and I am eight years old. One day, instead of going outside for recess, I stayed inside to make friendship bracelets (for my friends who were outside playing during recess, I guess?) and I started asking my 3rd grade teacher, Mrs. Englebright, about the presidents. I wanted to know specifics—what kind of toys do presidents like, do they watch TV, what are their favorite colors, do they carry guns or ninja swords? As my
teacher patiently answered all of my questions, she proceeded to tell me that just about anyone could be President, “You could even be the first female President,” she said. I remember thinking I must be infinitely special for her to tell me this until the next day when she decided to incorporate a lesson plan about Presidents (undoubtedly spurred by my questioning) and told the entire class, “Someday, one of you, any of you, could be President!” Seriously? Anyone? I was dejected. As I grew older I realized that my teacher was partially right, just about any asshat could end up as the President.4a. “You can be anything you want to be.”5. “Don’t go outside with wet hair.”
I made it pretty far believing that this was true, and I’m sure this belief is directly related to why I still believe I'll one day be a ("real") writer, but that’s not the point here. Before I wanted to be a writer I wanted to be a veterinarian, before that I wanted to be a singer, before that I wanted to an actress, before that it was a Ninja Turtle, and before that it was a pony. I truly believed I could be all or any of those things. I wonder what my parents would have said if I came home and told them I wanted to be a pterodactyl, or a bulldozer, or…a “shovel”?
This is an old wives’ tale that I will forever blame for my perpetually dry hair. But guess what? Scientists discovered that, like most wives’ tales, this one was totally made up. These days, if I leave the house with dry hair, it’s abnormal. I see wet hair almost as a courtesy, like, “Hey, just wanted to share with you the evidence of my shower this morning. I realize my cleanliness, or lack there of, might be an issue some days, but not today!”
6. “_____ are just jealous of you!”
That group of 7th grade girls who spent a week putting fake love notes from the cutest, most popular boy in school in my locker did not do it because they were jealous of me. And I didn’t fail to get invited to the party of the year because the hosts were jealous of me. And I didn’t get laid off and spend six months searching for a job because someone was jealous of me. Seriously, thank god I was born with low self-esteem because otherwise I might be walking around acting like another Kardashian.
7. “Money can’t buy you happiness.”
I don’t know about you, but a mansion on the beach with a live-in gourmet cook and masseuse, a collector’s library of first edition books, and a little person with an Italian accent who brings me a frozen cocktail with one of those tiny umbrellas whenever I blow into a conch shell would make me pretty damn happy. Don’t get deep with me about this; complicating happiness with silly things like morals is so unnecessary. So, let’s be real: Mansion + beach + cook + masseuse + books + little person + tiny umbrellas = Happiness. You might call that shallow and materialistic, but I call it blissfully content — toe-may-toe, to-my-toe.
8. Santa Claus, The Easter Bunny and The Tooth Fairy
A part of my childhood ended when I suddenly I realized that all of these gift-bearing creatures looked a lot like my dad. Nevertheless, I can’t wait to have kids so that I can endlessly threaten them with, “If you don’t go to bed, Santa Claus won’t bring you any presents,” even if it’s May. The Easter Bunny was always confusing to me because, why would a human-sized rabbit come to your house and hide eggs? As long as candy was involved, I didn’t question anything – but for the record, I always knew the Easter Bunny was a sham. (And, okay, so what if I still sort of believe in the Tooth Fairy?)
9. “Boys only want one thing.”
My dad used to say this to me during my teen years. “Now, remember, boys only want one thing, and I know this because I was once a boy too, even though that’s hard to believe now, I was, so I know. [Awkward pause.] Just don’t be stupid, okay?” While it didn’t take me long to figure out what that one thing was for sure, I think this statement is only half true. Now that I live with a boy, I mean, man, I’m pretty sure that there could be more than one thing that they want…I’ll let you know when I figure it out.
10. “Going to college will make you a better decision maker.”
Bullshit. Going to college did not make me a better decision maker. The only thing I learned in college was how to make really bad decisions, barely avoid the repercussions and then do exactly the same thing again the next weekend. Of course, in a really roundabout way, perhaps by learning to make bad decisions well, I did become a better overall decision maker. However, I doubt this is what my high school counselor meant while he was convincing us all to spend four years drunk, I mean, go to college.
12. “I promise, it won’t hurt.”
13. “You’ll grow out of this phase.”
Oh really? Well I am about to enter my 13th year of what a school nurse once referred to as my “awkward phase,” so this is obviously a lie. I’m guessing there are some things we may never grow out of, or, in my case, awkwardness is more of an unfortunate characteristic as opposed to a phase.
15. “These are the best years of your life.”
This phrase was uttered by almost every adult I knew at one point during the course of my high school experience. I know they were telling me to cherish my youth, but the only thing I ever thought was, “Really? These are the best years of my life? Really? Great, I guess I’ll just quit now, while I’m apparently ahead, because if life doesn’t get any better than field parties and 6 a.m. detention for chewing gum in the halls, then I don’t care to go on.” I can safely say that my high school years were not the best years of my life and I doubt I will ever look back and feel differently.
What lies did you hear growing up? Tell me about them in the comments. Please. I'm not ashamed to admit that I live for comments - so don't hold back.
Tuesday, October 6, 2009
Creative Advice
If you live and work as a "creative" then you've likely been the recipient of often well-intended but mostly empty and unhelpful advice. This advice usually comes at the expense of yet another creative meltdown where you look at your work and wonder why the hell you keep trying. Well, we all know why we keep trying—because a.) we can't help it, and b.) it feels unnatural to do anything else. It's not because someone once told you to "never give up" or to “try harder.” It's because every time you think about giving up and resigning yourself to a future of desk jobs where you crunch numbers and prepare TPS Reports, you manage to feign a streak of creative inspiration that propels you out of the meltdown and into temporary awesomeness (at least until your next meltdown).
Successful people love to give advice. Hell, I love to give advice and I’m not even successful (but oh boy, I’ve got a few pointers that will really make a difference when you make your next set of macramé pot holders!). We all go through phases in our own lives where “GIVE ME ADVICE” seems to be tattooed on our foreheads. During the time that I was unemployed this year (ahem, most of this year), I heard a lot of advice. Some of the advice I got was helpful like, “if duct tape won’t fix it, it is definitely broken,” and, “don’t bite the hand that feeds you, even if they insist on feeding you shit.” It was the vague, general and ultimately shallow advice that seemed to eat away at my soul everyday—things like, "be yourself - that's enough," or, "you have to believe in yourself, and then your career will take off."
You know what?
Shut the hell up.
I’m not giving up because I’ve already made it this far, I can’t avoid being myself (although sometimes I wish I could), and I believe in myself enough to know that you are full of shit.
So how about that?
What you got now?
Yeah…that’s what I thought—don’t you bring that weak Chicken Soup for the Soul shit ‘round here no more!
(Sorry, my outbursts are unpredictable lately.)
Anyway, being the obviously harsh judge of friendly advice that I am, I came across this golden nugget of Ira Glass advice that made me heave a sigh of relief, and for a moment, allowed me to forgive myself for all of the mediocre work I seem to be vomiting out on an uncomfortably regular basis. I’m sure some of you have seen this before, or heard it, but the message is one we all need to be reminded of while calm and sane (i.e., before the regularly scheduled meltdowns occur).
“It takes a while; it’s going to take you awhile; it’s normal to take awhile. You just have to fight your way through that, okay? You will be fierce. You will be a warrior. And you will make things that aren’t as good as you know in your heart that you want them to be, but you just [have to keep] making one after another…”
Alright, now I'm going to go write a whole bunch of crap that—if I'm lucky—will make me cringe when I look back at it years from now.
Thanks, Ira.
Successful people love to give advice. Hell, I love to give advice and I’m not even successful (but oh boy, I’ve got a few pointers that will really make a difference when you make your next set of macramé pot holders!). We all go through phases in our own lives where “GIVE ME ADVICE” seems to be tattooed on our foreheads. During the time that I was unemployed this year (ahem, most of this year), I heard a lot of advice. Some of the advice I got was helpful like, “if duct tape won’t fix it, it is definitely broken,” and, “don’t bite the hand that feeds you, even if they insist on feeding you shit.” It was the vague, general and ultimately shallow advice that seemed to eat away at my soul everyday—things like, "be yourself - that's enough," or, "you have to believe in yourself, and then your career will take off."
You know what?
Shut the hell up.
I’m not giving up because I’ve already made it this far, I can’t avoid being myself (although sometimes I wish I could), and I believe in myself enough to know that you are full of shit.
So how about that?
What you got now?
Yeah…that’s what I thought—don’t you bring that weak Chicken Soup for the Soul shit ‘round here no more!
(Sorry, my outbursts are unpredictable lately.)
Anyway, being the obviously harsh judge of friendly advice that I am, I came across this golden nugget of Ira Glass advice that made me heave a sigh of relief, and for a moment, allowed me to forgive myself for all of the mediocre work I seem to be vomiting out on an uncomfortably regular basis. I’m sure some of you have seen this before, or heard it, but the message is one we all need to be reminded of while calm and sane (i.e., before the regularly scheduled meltdowns occur).
“It takes a while; it’s going to take you awhile; it’s normal to take awhile. You just have to fight your way through that, okay? You will be fierce. You will be a warrior. And you will make things that aren’t as good as you know in your heart that you want them to be, but you just [have to keep] making one after another…”
Alright, now I'm going to go write a whole bunch of crap that—if I'm lucky—will make me cringe when I look back at it years from now.
Thanks, Ira.
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