Since I've got some free time lately, I decided it was time to take on one aspect of spring cleaning: the dreaded closet.
I am by no means a clothes horse or fashion plate. When I buy clothing, I tend toward the most basic styles. They rarely look dated, so I just wear the heck out of them until I can't any more. I'm sure it's because of how my mother trained me. "You want to buy that? How many things can you wear that with? Where would you wear it?" I have no problem browsing through the clearance rack. Then I don't feel as guilty if I splurge on an outfit for a special event.
So my closet was getting full. Warmer weather meant it was time to pull out my short-sleeved tops anyway, so I figured I'd weed through everything on the rod.
A few shirts were a bit too short, and I'd gotten my money's worth from them. Into the "donate" bag. Some that I hadn't worn in a year or so. Also into the bag. Wow...it's really been some time since I've done this!
Then it was on to the pants. Do I really need this many jeans? I didn't know I still had that pair of dress pants! It almost felt like I was shopping and finding great bargains! Like any smart shopper, I needed to try on my items to help me decide what to keep and what to send on to a better place. To my utter surprise, a distressing number of pants...didn't fit me! And it's not just that they were snug and hard to zip. There were way too many that didn't even make it up far enough to attempt zipping! Welcome to the "Amazing, Expanding Ass Show"! (Thanks to one of my dearest friends for using just the right words to describe the occasion.) I admit that I'm what you might call a couch potato. I'm not much for outdoor activity. And that has worked for me for years! I'd watch what I eat only as far as watching it move from my plate to my mouth. But here I stood in disbelief. My butt and hips have betrayed me!
But I made a conscious decision: It doesn't pay to hold on to these things "just in case" I lose a few pounds. I'm not going to start working out. I'm not going to give up my beloved chocolate. My weight isn't at an unhealthy point. I've just filled out a little bit. So now I've got two trash bags with items to donate. Admittedly, I still need to drop them off at Goodwill, but I've at least made the first step. I practiced my ability to "let go." There's no need to keep the average pair of pants when there's no particular significance attached to them. They're not souvenir T-shirts, after all! It felt good to just get rid of them. I've got some room again in my closet! My own personal clothing catharsis.
More than just a sense of accomplishment from completing the task, there was also a certain liberating feeling. The clothes don't fit any more? No need to panic! So my body has changed a bit. No big deal! It's such a non-issue for me that I even wore shorts in public. Granted, it was just a quick run up to the drug store, but I haven't done that in years. I don't need to be so self-conscious and critical. One step at a time...I'll keep getting better.
I may still be discovering what type of job is the best fit for me, but at least I'm more comfortable with what type of pants are the best fit for me.
Wednesday, May 26, 2010
Monday, May 24, 2010
Live Together, Die Together
Last night was the much-anticipated series finale of "Lost." I, too, waited with bated breath to watch the end, gain some closure as it were. Answers? Some. More questions? Definitely. Good TV? Yes, in my opinion.
I have been a steady fan, virtually from the beginning. I remember trying to watch the premiere. But daily life didn't allow me to watch every episode. I liked what I saw, though, and caught up with repeat airings. My sister's family watched, I had friends who watched. LOST always made for good conversation. I enjoy freestanding shows, too. The kind where you just laugh and go about your life. No real brain work required. But I liked that I had to think while watching LOST. Be more of an active participant than just a passive viewer.
But I never blogged about it. Never had any grand theories about it. Only pondered what would happen "next week." I thought I was doing a fairly good job of keeping track of the characters and their backstories. Always kept an eye out for "the numbers" (4-8-15-16-23-42). Tried to see hidden meanings in seemingly trivial background images and props. Didn't miss an episode. Many times I was left scratching my head. Some were better than others, but I can't say that I ever felt there was one that wasn't worth watching.
The enhanced ("pop-up") shows could be helpful. They pointed out some of the big things, just in case you missed it. And I always enjoyed the recaps. Helped get my brain back into LOST mode. Sometimes it was fun to see how much I'd forgotten! (Really? Nathan Fillion was in an episode? How did I miss that‽)
Yesterday I was sure to finish my household chores early in the day. My laptop battery was charged so I could check in with Twitter and chat with my sister and niece. I put on a LOST bracelet I'd bought. (Unfortunately, I'd never quite gotten around to making the Shrinky-Dink earrings I'd planned. Only had six seasons, you know.) I was (figuratively) glued to the TV for four and a half hours. And I loved every minute of it. Action, romance, sci-fi, mythology...filled with fabulous moments.
The end confused me at first, but that didn't make me like it any less. As I checked the message boards, it made more sense. I believe that part of the magic of this show is that it doesn't have to mean the same thing to every viewer. You can take from it what you put into it. But boy, there are people who are terribly upset by the conclusion. Many feel they "wasted six years" watching, and that the writers "copped out" at the end. I disagree.
Some tried, both before and after watching, to compare it to other memorable series finales. Bob waking up next to Emily. BJ's stone "goodbye" to Hawkeye. The group hug and turning off the lights at WJM-TV. Seinfeld's gang in a jail cell. (That one didn't really do much for me.) These seem to have wrapped up their storylines nicely. But really...how did the MASH crew fare stateside? We don't really know what happened to the characters once the cameras were turned off. So why is it so hard for some people to deal with LOST's ending? We know where most of the people are, and can infer that the other "minor" characters followed a similar path. The entire show was mysterious. Should we have expected any less at the end?
First, let's not forget that above all, it's just a TV show. And on free network TV, at that. Sure, we invested time in it, both watching and theorizing. But at least it didn't hit you in the pocketbook like a night at the movies can.
From the beginning, Jack tried to impress upon the group that if they didn't live together, they would die alone. In an odd way, this show brought people together. Not in a kum-ba-yah sort of way. But it got people thinking and talking and sharing. We didn't right any wrongs against humanity, but perhaps we connected in ways we hadn't before. And even though they didn't all die at the same moment, the survivors still found a way to die together.
Who honestly expected or wanted to have everything sewn up in one fell swoop? That would have been out of character for the show. Sure, romantic comedies have the starring couple living happily ever after. A murder mystery might have our hero solve the crime and leave the evildoer in the capable hands of the justice system. Enemies are defeated, lovers are reunited, and all is right with the world. But we all know that's not real life. LOST left questions unanswered and friends unaccounted for. People are imperfect and scarred; sometimes they're redeemed, sometimes not. Even with all of the sci-fi elements we're asked to accept (e.g., time travel, smoke monsters, polar bears), these people were real. A cross-section of humanity. Their experiences weren't necessarily like yours and mine, but they dealt with universal emotions. It was fun trying to keep up with the hidden meanings. But I would have gotten bored with and confused by the mythology if the story didn't revolve around the characters. It's the lives of these people that kept me coming back. I wanted to know where they had been and where they were going, what they were feeling and learning.
You and I may never crash on a freaky island, but we all have a past...and a present...and a future. I'm sad that it's over, but I don't regret watching it one bit. And if you didn't like it, well then I'll just take my Jesus-stick and go home.
I have been a steady fan, virtually from the beginning. I remember trying to watch the premiere. But daily life didn't allow me to watch every episode. I liked what I saw, though, and caught up with repeat airings. My sister's family watched, I had friends who watched. LOST always made for good conversation. I enjoy freestanding shows, too. The kind where you just laugh and go about your life. No real brain work required. But I liked that I had to think while watching LOST. Be more of an active participant than just a passive viewer.
But I never blogged about it. Never had any grand theories about it. Only pondered what would happen "next week." I thought I was doing a fairly good job of keeping track of the characters and their backstories. Always kept an eye out for "the numbers" (4-8-15-16-23-42). Tried to see hidden meanings in seemingly trivial background images and props. Didn't miss an episode. Many times I was left scratching my head. Some were better than others, but I can't say that I ever felt there was one that wasn't worth watching.
The enhanced ("pop-up") shows could be helpful. They pointed out some of the big things, just in case you missed it. And I always enjoyed the recaps. Helped get my brain back into LOST mode. Sometimes it was fun to see how much I'd forgotten! (Really? Nathan Fillion was in an episode? How did I miss that‽)
Yesterday I was sure to finish my household chores early in the day. My laptop battery was charged so I could check in with Twitter and chat with my sister and niece. I put on a LOST bracelet I'd bought. (Unfortunately, I'd never quite gotten around to making the Shrinky-Dink earrings I'd planned. Only had six seasons, you know.) I was (figuratively) glued to the TV for four and a half hours. And I loved every minute of it. Action, romance, sci-fi, mythology...filled with fabulous moments.
The end confused me at first, but that didn't make me like it any less. As I checked the message boards, it made more sense. I believe that part of the magic of this show is that it doesn't have to mean the same thing to every viewer. You can take from it what you put into it. But boy, there are people who are terribly upset by the conclusion. Many feel they "wasted six years" watching, and that the writers "copped out" at the end. I disagree.
Some tried, both before and after watching, to compare it to other memorable series finales. Bob waking up next to Emily. BJ's stone "goodbye" to Hawkeye. The group hug and turning off the lights at WJM-TV. Seinfeld's gang in a jail cell. (That one didn't really do much for me.) These seem to have wrapped up their storylines nicely. But really...how did the MASH crew fare stateside? We don't really know what happened to the characters once the cameras were turned off. So why is it so hard for some people to deal with LOST's ending? We know where most of the people are, and can infer that the other "minor" characters followed a similar path. The entire show was mysterious. Should we have expected any less at the end?
First, let's not forget that above all, it's just a TV show. And on free network TV, at that. Sure, we invested time in it, both watching and theorizing. But at least it didn't hit you in the pocketbook like a night at the movies can.
From the beginning, Jack tried to impress upon the group that if they didn't live together, they would die alone. In an odd way, this show brought people together. Not in a kum-ba-yah sort of way. But it got people thinking and talking and sharing. We didn't right any wrongs against humanity, but perhaps we connected in ways we hadn't before. And even though they didn't all die at the same moment, the survivors still found a way to die together.
Who honestly expected or wanted to have everything sewn up in one fell swoop? That would have been out of character for the show. Sure, romantic comedies have the starring couple living happily ever after. A murder mystery might have our hero solve the crime and leave the evildoer in the capable hands of the justice system. Enemies are defeated, lovers are reunited, and all is right with the world. But we all know that's not real life. LOST left questions unanswered and friends unaccounted for. People are imperfect and scarred; sometimes they're redeemed, sometimes not. Even with all of the sci-fi elements we're asked to accept (e.g., time travel, smoke monsters, polar bears), these people were real. A cross-section of humanity. Their experiences weren't necessarily like yours and mine, but they dealt with universal emotions. It was fun trying to keep up with the hidden meanings. But I would have gotten bored with and confused by the mythology if the story didn't revolve around the characters. It's the lives of these people that kept me coming back. I wanted to know where they had been and where they were going, what they were feeling and learning.
You and I may never crash on a freaky island, but we all have a past...and a present...and a future. I'm sad that it's over, but I don't regret watching it one bit. And if you didn't like it, well then I'll just take my Jesus-stick and go home.
Thursday, May 13, 2010
"New" Math
Don't worry: No algebra or trig in this post. In my youth, I was a good math student, but I never really enjoyed it. But as I age, numbers have started to mean something different to me. Their values seem to have changed.
The most noticeable to me has been the concept of 28 days. As a younger woman, 28 days was a pretty reliable time frame. It always meant a four-week period. (Yes, that play on words is intentional.) But over the last few years, I've noticed that what used to be "28 days" can now mean anything from 18 to 38 days. What's up with that? There was a time I could practically set my watch by it. Now, my calendar runs independent of standard time. Frustrating. Perhaps you can empathize. If you're not a woman, I guess you'll never really know.
But that's not the only number that seems to have changed value. I remember things about being 15 years old. Stretching my wings, nearing adulthood. But now, my "baby" is 15. There are days when it's not possible that he could already be that age. Involved in school activities, planning for his future. Seems like it's too soon for all of that. He's certainly mature enough, but I guess I wasn't ready to be old enough to have a child at that stage of life already. When I was 15, my mother was about the same age as I am now. I don't feel as "old" as I imagined my mom to be at that time. She's happy to remind me that her "baby" is 46...I think she has as much trouble with that as I do dealing with my child being a teenager.
Here's another one. I have known one of my best friends for more than...25 years! How is that possible? I never could have imagined a friendship of that duration. Believe me, I treasure our relationship and realize how rare and special that is. But has it really been that long? Who knew back when we had our first two classes together in college that we'd still be spending time together. Another close friend? That's been almost 11 years. Time sure flies.
Speaking of time, the clock ticks at a different pace, too. I remember back in the day when we'd go out to a club...at 10:00 at night! Now I sometimes fall asleep before the end of a TV show at that time. I guess I shouldn't make fun of my folks for heading out to a restaurant at 4:30 in the afternoon. Starting to make sense that you'd want to beat the dinnertime rush.
I know...a minute is the same as it was back in the '60s. A year is still 365 days, just like in the '80s. Maybe I just need to stop looking at my watch and my calendar so much and just live each day like it's...today.
The most noticeable to me has been the concept of 28 days. As a younger woman, 28 days was a pretty reliable time frame. It always meant a four-week period. (Yes, that play on words is intentional.) But over the last few years, I've noticed that what used to be "28 days" can now mean anything from 18 to 38 days. What's up with that? There was a time I could practically set my watch by it. Now, my calendar runs independent of standard time. Frustrating. Perhaps you can empathize. If you're not a woman, I guess you'll never really know.
But that's not the only number that seems to have changed value. I remember things about being 15 years old. Stretching my wings, nearing adulthood. But now, my "baby" is 15. There are days when it's not possible that he could already be that age. Involved in school activities, planning for his future. Seems like it's too soon for all of that. He's certainly mature enough, but I guess I wasn't ready to be old enough to have a child at that stage of life already. When I was 15, my mother was about the same age as I am now. I don't feel as "old" as I imagined my mom to be at that time. She's happy to remind me that her "baby" is 46...I think she has as much trouble with that as I do dealing with my child being a teenager.
Here's another one. I have known one of my best friends for more than...25 years! How is that possible? I never could have imagined a friendship of that duration. Believe me, I treasure our relationship and realize how rare and special that is. But has it really been that long? Who knew back when we had our first two classes together in college that we'd still be spending time together. Another close friend? That's been almost 11 years. Time sure flies.
Speaking of time, the clock ticks at a different pace, too. I remember back in the day when we'd go out to a club...at 10:00 at night! Now I sometimes fall asleep before the end of a TV show at that time. I guess I shouldn't make fun of my folks for heading out to a restaurant at 4:30 in the afternoon. Starting to make sense that you'd want to beat the dinnertime rush.
I know...a minute is the same as it was back in the '60s. A year is still 365 days, just like in the '80s. Maybe I just need to stop looking at my watch and my calendar so much and just live each day like it's...today.
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