Wednesday, April 23, 2008

Greased Pigs

Quote of the day: “Expecting life to treat you well because you are a good person is like expecting an angry bull not to charge because you are a vegetarian.” ~ Shari R. Barr

Song of the day: “Creeping Death” by Metallica

State of mind: as usual, full.

Date: 4/23/08

I’ve been a bad blogger. I haven’t been keeping up with blog posting or blog reading. But I’ve had a side project that’s been taking up a lot of my time, at least mentally.
I’ve been trying to organize my life. And I’ve been about as successful at it as I would be if I were to wrestle a greased pig while floating in the middle of the ocean. Whether I get a hold of the damn thing or not doesn’t really matter because eventually we’re both going to be eaten by sharks but I still need to get a hold of that stupid pig because just floating isn’t working anymore. So I got one of those “idiots’ guides” for organizing. I hate those books. Or more accurately I hate the titles of those books, implying that just because someone doesn’t know much about a certain subject then they must be a moron. Well, humans aren’t the Borg. Just because one person knows a thing, doesn’t mean the rest of us do. And by the ‘rest of us’ I mean me.
Truth is, my upbringing didn’t include being taught a lot of life skills. The basic stuff like housework and cooking and balancing the checkbook. We didn’t have schedules and structure. No set dinner time. No set bed time.
What I was taught was how to get by. Or more precisely, how to look like you were getting by, even if you weren’t- and god forbid you let anyone know that you weren’t getting by at all. Nope, it was all about apperances. For instance, in my house there wasn't a junk drawer, there was a junk room. A room that was the designated place for whatever we wanted out of site of whomever was visiting. Rather than have a place for everythign and everything in it’s place, we’d just shove it in the junk room until the visiting parties were gone. Maybe the offending hidden junk would find a home or it might just stay in that room forever suddenly unneeded once it was out of sight- which was what usually happened.
It was a chaotic way of life contained in a tiny house.
We didn’t have a laundry day either. Our laundry day was the day you discovered to your horror 20 minutes before the bus was to pick you up for school that you didn’t have any clean clothes to wear and you had to rumage in the back of the closet where all the clothes you grew out of still hung because it never occurred to you that once you don’t fit them anymore the prudent thing to do would be to get rid of them, so you would hobble together an outfit that was a tad too tight and probably just a bit out of style but by using careful accessories you might be able to pull it off as something that fit and wasn’t totally embarressing to wear for 7 hours. Thank the divine Overlord of the Sock (my favorite diety) for that silly fashion trend of wearing your tube socks over your skinny jeans and high top sneakers! I got away with more days of wearing high water pants that I had out grown a year or two previous with that particular trick. Especially when combined with the too large shirt (that I usually snagged from my father’s closet) to hide the fact that my jeans were held together with a safety pin because the waist was too small.
For the most part my sister and I were left to our own devices to figure it all out on our own. That hasn’t worked out so well. I mean, I don’t often have to pin together an outfit in the morning anymore but I’m still less prepared for the day more often then I’d like. So I’m going through my life, trying to tackle the deficiencies systematically to be sure I don’t miss anything. I doubt I will ever attain the hieghts of Martha Stewart but I wouldn’t mind being a little more like that woman who’s got the system of coupons down to so much of a science she once bought two cart loads of groceries for 8 bucks.
My theory is this: life is a formula. Or maybe it’s a recipie. You only need a certain amount of each thing to equal either Life or one tasty pie. Right now, I’m only getting credit for showing my work and I’ve probably burnt the pie, which might be for the best because chances are I forgot the sugar. But that’s ok. The pig will eat it.

New feature! “Green tip of the day!” For instance: when at the atm do not ask for a recipt. Wastes paper. And no one keeps those stupid things anyhow. If they did, then why is the waste basket at my local bank always full of crumpled ones?

6 comments:

LL said...

I dunno what to tell you P... habits learned in childhood are hard to break. It can be done, but you've really got to want to do it.

If you were living alone it might be easier to turn a new leaf, but alas...

ctheokas said...

I'm kinda up the same creek, PinTA. Feels like I don't know even half the stuff I really should. I'd offer advice on getting through it, but I'm still stuck on the stocking thing.

And I've been listening to a lot of GitoGito Hustler (gitogito.org)

trinamick said...

I never learned of those domestic skills either. I didn't have a problem with the clothing thing at home, because my mother was a fanatic. But now I occasionally find myself scrambling to find something clean in the back of my closet.

I'd just be happy if I could sew on a button and it stayed for an hour or two without falling off.

wa11z said...

Life isn't a formula. Life is chaos. Every minute we are bombarded by a freakishly large amount of choices. There is no wrong choice because life doesn't have morals. It merely exists to form another set of choices for another obscene amount of situations. And it isn't fair...

fermicat said...

Cheer up! We're all in that boat. We have a junk drawer (several, actually) and a room that no matter what we do always seems to have a corner filled with stuff we've been meaning to take to goodwill.

And laundry day? Not in this house. We wash clothes when there are enough to run a full load.

I don't know anyone who is really organized and has it together in every aspect. Living is messy.

Beth said...

You can change these habits in no time if you desire to do it. I was raised like ... hmm, I don't know what to call it. A wild dog? I mean, I lived in a room that had more creepy crawlies than a Tim Burton movie and now I like these orderly, but not too clinically clean ... where it smells like a hospital or feels like a museum.

I'm really good with organizing things and if you need any help/tips, let me know. I'd really love to help and make it easier, if possible.

I could have learned physics or albebra or hell, math at all, but instead I know how to clean and organize. We all have our strengths/weaknesses. Doesn't make them faults ... it just makes the world go round and people more interesting.