When I started this blog, I wasn't particularly sure what it would be about. Heck, I didn't even really know why I was doing it. I picked a name and ran with it without really thinking too much. Somehow, the 'Organized Geek' name just never felt quite right. But I didn't want to let the need to find the perfect name stop me from barreling ahead and starting to write.
In short, I've come to realize that I don't really write about either organizing or geekery.
What do I write about? Simplifying, living mindfully, achieving debt freedom, embracing change, minimalism, money and budgeting. With an occasional dose of body image awareness and nutrition. I document my journey toward greater satisfaction, simplicity, and freedom in my life, and hope someday to provide inspiration for others to do the same. I want to encourage finding one's passion, living a more remarkable life, and sorting out priorities, by figuring out and living these things myself. I want to make life better, damn it.
It's time to move forward, and embrace a new identity that better encapsulates what it is that I do.
To that end, I've created happysimplefree, and will be moving over there from this point on. It'll have the same sort of content, but branded under a more sensible name. I'm dropping the 'Organized Geek' moniker entirely, and welcoming this new, more mindful refinement of my message. Join me as we work toward more happiness, simplicity, and freedom!
~The Organized Geek, signing off.
6.01.2012
5.31.2012
may financial retrospective
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Why the heck is the blue 'household' pie-slice so huge above? Timing, really. May happened to have two vacations on subsequent weekends. We went to Las Vegas one weekend, and had a fabulous time. We ate some of the best food ever, had amazing cocktails, and saw a great show. Unfortunately, those things are quite pricey. Even though my in-laws let us share their timeshare and we drove instead of flew, having a good time in Vegas is still expensive. And I didn't even gamble, beyond putting a single $20 bill into a slot machine. And watching it disappear, of course.
The weekend after that was a camping trip at an SCA event. What can I say? Apparently we enjoy dressing up in silly clothing, getting windburned, eating a lot of dust, and sleeping on the ground. Anyway, when I go camping I tend to cook for people, so there was some non-negligible expense there. Oh well, it's fun.
Both trips were known about ahead of time, and I was able to plan ahead enough that the expense didn't hurt too much. No real problems here. Some things are worth spending more on, especially when it comes to excellent experiences.
Other than travel expenses, we're totally on track. I made my full (but not overfull) debt payments, still have a comfortable cushion in my account, and didn't overspend on any categories other than that for vacations. This month just means a little belt-tightening is in order for a while.
Onward to debt freedom!
5.30.2012
today I love...
...Sally's treatise on the importance of body image.
Now, I'm not a body image blogger, and I don't pretend to be one. But Sally really hit the nail on the head with this one, not only regarding why such conversations are useful and necessary, but also part of what's so very broken about a culture ruled by advertising and corporate interests.
Every Wednesday, I write about something I love that day. It doesn't necessarily have to be remotely related to anything; it just has to be fabulous!
Now, I'm not a body image blogger, and I don't pretend to be one. But Sally really hit the nail on the head with this one, not only regarding why such conversations are useful and necessary, but also part of what's so very broken about a culture ruled by advertising and corporate interests.
Every Wednesday, I write about something I love that day. It doesn't necessarily have to be remotely related to anything; it just has to be fabulous!
5.25.2012
too much
The other day, I was invited to join my coworkers in going out for lunch.
Sure, I had packed a lunch and am working on spending as little as possible on eating out. I also wasn't particularly hungry, and had even been debating skipping lunch entirely. Listening to one's body is a good idea.
But hey, they were going to a new restaurant that I hadn't been to before. That justifies an entirely unnecessary expense, right?
Predictably enough, I wound up sitting with seven of my officemates at a large table at a local posh burger restaurant (yes, those terms seem kind of contradictory. Apparently this exists). I could have gotten a small salad to quench my insignificant hunger level, but I wanted to try the thing that sounded the best. This was my first time here! I must splurge!
Shortly I found myself staring at a portobello 'burger' with carmelized onions and bleu cheese, and the dang thing seemed bigger than my head. Certainly it was taller than my stretched jaw could accommodate. Fortunately, or perhaps unfortunately, it was also delicious.
As I attacked my superfluous lunch with vigor, mushroom juice dripping all over my plate, I realized about halfway through that I was not only full, but uncomfortably so. My body was quite clearly telling me to stop.
Did I listen?
Of course not. Logistical concerns filled my mind. If I had a half-sandwich left over, then my plans for the week's lunches would be thrown off. Not to mention that the bun would get all soggy. So I finished the thing, and accepted my coworkers' congratulations on my victory over the doom-sandwich.
After waddling back to work, I found myself drowsy and groggy for the rest of the day, and my body physically hurt from too much food. I had virtually no energy, and felt almost sick. This was the result of my fun, impromptu lunch out with my friends? Was this really what I wanted? To be uncomfortable, too unfocused to work, and in pain?
Why did I do that to myself?
This country doesn't really have what I would call a 'food culture.' Food culture is a sense of historical identity expressed through food. It's grandmothers who learned to cook from their grandmothers in the way of their people. It's the culmination of centuries of local incremental co-evolution to develop an optimal way of getting the most health from the local food supply in the most pleasurable way possible.
What we have is large corporations telling us to eat what they produce. We have happy meals and factory farms. We have no idea where our food comes from. Guidance concerning diet comes not from generations of wisdom but from so-called 'nutritionists' whose educations were sponsored by those same corporations and based on severely faulty science (no offense meant to any good nutritionists out there who actually make an effort to be informed and genuinely care about health. I'm just speaking from my own observations here). These are the people who told us that margarine was healthy, and that no-salt diets were a good idea (conveniently forgetting that sodium is critical for neuron function, something that's covered in bio 111). These are the people who somehow manage to justify ketchup as a vegetable. Our sources of food information are mostly full of crap.
Above all, we have huge quantities of cheap food. The 'average American' (yes, I know averages don't mean everything. But some sort of measure must be picked) consumed 2,674 kilocalories a day in 2008, up from 2,167 in 1970. At the same time we spend half as much on food as our grandparents did (as a proportion of income).
Without going into a rant about excessive and ill-applied subsidization of specific crops as inputs for the agricultural-industrial complex, which I'll save for another time, suffice it to say that food is too cheap in terms of money and too expensive in terms of health. The next time you go out to eat, look at the amount of food you're given. Really look at that portion size. Notice that you probably aren't a marathon runner or a professional bodybuilder. Now look at it again. Is it realistic?
I fully acknowledge that this all comes from a perspective of privilege. An astonishing number of people don't have enough to eat or access to actually healthy food, and that's beyond depressing. But couple that with the rampant overeating and food waste that's found in the privileged classes of the world, and it gets even more ridiculous.
It's amazing how often we're encouraged to eat until saturation, until we're bursting at the seams. But this leads directly to 'food coma', low energy, and feeling generally crappy. Even on the morning after the ill-fated portobello burger lunch, I still felt mildly woozy and uncomfortable. I'm tired of this. What if I could simply eat less and feel great? Eating is pleasurable, but so is actually feeling good.
From now on, I'm going to make an effort to only eat as much as my body is actually requesting. I'm going to work on paying attention to how I feel, and noticing when the crumminess sets in after eating. Fundamentally, like most of my self-work, this is about being mindful. Maybe I'll even learn something about myself.
Ultimately, everything I could possibly say on the subject has already been said more elegantly and succinctly in this post at zenhabits. I highly recommend it.
What are your experiences with mindful or mindless eating?
Sure, I had packed a lunch and am working on spending as little as possible on eating out. I also wasn't particularly hungry, and had even been debating skipping lunch entirely. Listening to one's body is a good idea.
But hey, they were going to a new restaurant that I hadn't been to before. That justifies an entirely unnecessary expense, right?
Predictably enough, I wound up sitting with seven of my officemates at a large table at a local posh burger restaurant (yes, those terms seem kind of contradictory. Apparently this exists). I could have gotten a small salad to quench my insignificant hunger level, but I wanted to try the thing that sounded the best. This was my first time here! I must splurge!
Shortly I found myself staring at a portobello 'burger' with carmelized onions and bleu cheese, and the dang thing seemed bigger than my head. Certainly it was taller than my stretched jaw could accommodate. Fortunately, or perhaps unfortunately, it was also delicious.
As I attacked my superfluous lunch with vigor, mushroom juice dripping all over my plate, I realized about halfway through that I was not only full, but uncomfortably so. My body was quite clearly telling me to stop.
Did I listen?
Of course not. Logistical concerns filled my mind. If I had a half-sandwich left over, then my plans for the week's lunches would be thrown off. Not to mention that the bun would get all soggy. So I finished the thing, and accepted my coworkers' congratulations on my victory over the doom-sandwich.
After waddling back to work, I found myself drowsy and groggy for the rest of the day, and my body physically hurt from too much food. I had virtually no energy, and felt almost sick. This was the result of my fun, impromptu lunch out with my friends? Was this really what I wanted? To be uncomfortable, too unfocused to work, and in pain?
Why did I do that to myself?
This country doesn't really have what I would call a 'food culture.' Food culture is a sense of historical identity expressed through food. It's grandmothers who learned to cook from their grandmothers in the way of their people. It's the culmination of centuries of local incremental co-evolution to develop an optimal way of getting the most health from the local food supply in the most pleasurable way possible.
What we have is large corporations telling us to eat what they produce. We have happy meals and factory farms. We have no idea where our food comes from. Guidance concerning diet comes not from generations of wisdom but from so-called 'nutritionists' whose educations were sponsored by those same corporations and based on severely faulty science (no offense meant to any good nutritionists out there who actually make an effort to be informed and genuinely care about health. I'm just speaking from my own observations here). These are the people who told us that margarine was healthy, and that no-salt diets were a good idea (conveniently forgetting that sodium is critical for neuron function, something that's covered in bio 111). These are the people who somehow manage to justify ketchup as a vegetable. Our sources of food information are mostly full of crap.
Above all, we have huge quantities of cheap food. The 'average American' (yes, I know averages don't mean everything. But some sort of measure must be picked) consumed 2,674 kilocalories a day in 2008, up from 2,167 in 1970. At the same time we spend half as much on food as our grandparents did (as a proportion of income).
Without going into a rant about excessive and ill-applied subsidization of specific crops as inputs for the agricultural-industrial complex, which I'll save for another time, suffice it to say that food is too cheap in terms of money and too expensive in terms of health. The next time you go out to eat, look at the amount of food you're given. Really look at that portion size. Notice that you probably aren't a marathon runner or a professional bodybuilder. Now look at it again. Is it realistic?
I fully acknowledge that this all comes from a perspective of privilege. An astonishing number of people don't have enough to eat or access to actually healthy food, and that's beyond depressing. But couple that with the rampant overeating and food waste that's found in the privileged classes of the world, and it gets even more ridiculous.
It's amazing how often we're encouraged to eat until saturation, until we're bursting at the seams. But this leads directly to 'food coma', low energy, and feeling generally crappy. Even on the morning after the ill-fated portobello burger lunch, I still felt mildly woozy and uncomfortable. I'm tired of this. What if I could simply eat less and feel great? Eating is pleasurable, but so is actually feeling good.
From now on, I'm going to make an effort to only eat as much as my body is actually requesting. I'm going to work on paying attention to how I feel, and noticing when the crumminess sets in after eating. Fundamentally, like most of my self-work, this is about being mindful. Maybe I'll even learn something about myself.
Ultimately, everything I could possibly say on the subject has already been said more elegantly and succinctly in this post at zenhabits. I highly recommend it.
What are your experiences with mindful or mindless eating?
5.23.2012
today I love...
...a clean inbox.
Last week I cut my inbox down to size, going from over 1,600 messages to 34. It only took a few minutes, and had a nice bonus of forcing a few important emails I'd forgotten about to the top where I can see and deal with them.
There's something about a clean slate that imparts a sense of peace, even if it's in a small and seemingly insignificant context. And hey, this habit might make me better at making decisions, too! Who knew?
Every Wednesday, I write about something I love that day. It doesn't necessarily have to be remotely related to anything; it just has to be fabulous!
Last week I cut my inbox down to size, going from over 1,600 messages to 34. It only took a few minutes, and had a nice bonus of forcing a few important emails I'd forgotten about to the top where I can see and deal with them.
There's something about a clean slate that imparts a sense of peace, even if it's in a small and seemingly insignificant context. And hey, this habit might make me better at making decisions, too! Who knew?
Every Wednesday, I write about something I love that day. It doesn't necessarily have to be remotely related to anything; it just has to be fabulous!
5.16.2012
today I love...
...Style Girlfriend's list of reasons to 'kick-start' your style. Style Girlfriend Megan blogs about men's style from a female perspective, and I want to be her when I grow up.
I'm oddly fascinated by men's sartorial blogs, and have quite a few of them on my radar. I can't really explain it, but I just really enjoy reading about classic clothing and style for men. Perhaps because it has so much more subtlety than women's fashion --- fundamentally, the overall shape and style of male clothing (at least what most would today call 'dressed up') --- really hasn't changed much in many decades. A well-fitting suit now is the same essential shape as a well-fitting suit in the fifties, and there are only so many ways to express oneself with a pocket square. Contrast that to the insane variety of female fashion as the designers scramble to come out with new, more attention-getting, more flamboyant, different ideas.
Perhaps the lack of change is what I find comforting.
Also, well-dressed men are both delightful and rare in this particular time and place. As much as it would be nice in some respects if people weren't judged on their outward appearance and sartorial decisions, that's not the case. People will get their first impression of you from how you look. Not to mention that clothing is a fantastic way to express yourself and decide consciously how you want to present yourself to the world. Instead of leaving it up to random chance (which jeans did I pull out of the drawer today?), taking control of your image is a beautiful thing.
Perhaps I'm vain. But it's fun, and I enjoy encouraging the males around me to step up to the place and kick it up a notch.
I particularly like reasons #9 and #15. If only more lads figured this out earlier...
I'm oddly fascinated by men's sartorial blogs, and have quite a few of them on my radar. I can't really explain it, but I just really enjoy reading about classic clothing and style for men. Perhaps because it has so much more subtlety than women's fashion --- fundamentally, the overall shape and style of male clothing (at least what most would today call 'dressed up') --- really hasn't changed much in many decades. A well-fitting suit now is the same essential shape as a well-fitting suit in the fifties, and there are only so many ways to express oneself with a pocket square. Contrast that to the insane variety of female fashion as the designers scramble to come out with new, more attention-getting, more flamboyant, different ideas.
Perhaps the lack of change is what I find comforting.
Also, well-dressed men are both delightful and rare in this particular time and place. As much as it would be nice in some respects if people weren't judged on their outward appearance and sartorial decisions, that's not the case. People will get their first impression of you from how you look. Not to mention that clothing is a fantastic way to express yourself and decide consciously how you want to present yourself to the world. Instead of leaving it up to random chance (which jeans did I pull out of the drawer today?), taking control of your image is a beautiful thing.
Perhaps I'm vain. But it's fun, and I enjoy encouraging the males around me to step up to the place and kick it up a notch.
I particularly like reasons #9 and #15. If only more lads figured this out earlier...
5.11.2012
why I declutter
Stuff is a part of life. Stuff is accumulated, it serves various purposes, it's an indicator of wealth (did you see how big his flat-screen television was?), it makes us happy. We need stuff, and over the course of history, most possessions have been valuable, scarce, and often important for survival.
But that was then. In the 'developed world,' at this point, stuff is cheap. Ridiculously cheap. Most things are essentially disposable; clothing, electronics, furniture, and even vehicles are all purchased with the expectation that they'll break, wear out, or fall apart in a relatively very short time and need replacing. Where our grandparents would save up for and treasure a good winter coat for many years, we offhandedly own twenty that are all shoddy. But it doesn't matter, because even before their short lifetimes are up, we'll probably get bored of them and buy new ones out of pure whim.
Minimalism isn't really about not owning stuff. It's about identifying value.
At first blush, it might seem that the root cause of overconsumption, rampant consumer waste, and an actual topic and audience for the TV show Hoarders is over-valuing our stuff. I can't possibly get rid of any of my twenty winter coats despite the fact that live in the tropics because I love them. I need them. They give me a sense of worth, and I would be losing something valuable if I didn't have them.
But let's think about this.
Is this really value? What is value? Is it what someone else would pay for the object, or some quantification of the pleasure or usefulness that you personally derive from it? It's in your possession, after all. Are you truly happier with many cheap, flimsy things than you would be with fewer really spectacularly well-made ones? How do you know?
If you're deriving neither use nor happiness from the item, regardless of what you paid for it or what its 'original price' was, it is worthless.
Are we, perhaps, actually under-valuing our stuff? The phrase 'materialism' is generally used to indicate the hoarder-like behavior of accumulating stuff for the sake of accumulating stuff. But what if we could forge a better relationship with our possessions, and genuinely care about them? This is a fundamentally different approach. Appreciating, taking care of, and really enjoying the things in our lives, rather than being ruled by them, seems to me to be a better form of materialism. If you fell in love with an excellent coat, wouldn't you want it to last for years so you could go on enjoying it instead of throwing it away after a season? Disposable culture has redefined our relationship with stuff, and not for the better. Perhaps the problem is that we're not materialistic enough!
When I was little, I participated in the pog craze. In case you skipped that one, it was technically based on a game developed with milk caps but turned into a pre-teen consumer frenzy in the mid-90's. Kids bought, collected, hoarded, and traded these little cardboard discs with pictures on them. Very rarely was the game actually played; it was mostly about the collecting process. We'd set up little trading posts with each other, and proudly display our expansive collections. It was quite the phenomenon.
At the time, I had some good friends who lived just down the street. I'd go over to their house, we'd each claim a corner of the room to set up the pogs we were interested in trading, and then go visit the other 'shops' to haggle and barter. My little mind was struck with a notion that seemed to have some merit. My shop instituted a 'quantity for quality' policy, wherein I would encourage my friends to offer their good pogs and in exchange I'd give them piles of crappy ones. I even made a sign. They thought this was a wonderful deal. They were getting ten pogs, while only surrendering one! What a chump I was!
After a few weeks of this, my friends noticed that I'd accumulated all their high-quality (this is relative, of course. Fundamentally they were all just silly little cardboard discs.) pogs, while they were left with piles and piles of really cheap, lower-quality ones. They got sore about it and stopped trading with me.
If what you value is having many things, you will surely wind up with (metaphorically speaking) large piles of low-quality pogs. Perhaps it won't be a deliberate or conscious process (my friends certainly didn't think to extrapolate the situation beyond each individual trade), but over time actions will align themselves with core values. Then all the stuff will weigh you down
So what happens if you value good things instead? If you can appreciate having a smaller number of things, but everything you own is your favorite thing? Where moving is easy, and there are no piles to trip over, and all your possessions bring you joy? Wouldn't that be marvelous?
That's why I talk so much about getting rid of things. Not really out of any ascetic drive or sense of self-deprivation, but out of selfishness. I want to love all my things, instead of being annoyed by how they're in the way and dusty and taking up so much space. I want the freedom to take a job across the country and move into a smaller place. I want to spend much less time thinking about, stressing about, and cleaning my stuff. I want good stuff that actually enriches my life, dammit!
I'm in no way unique in this, of course, and there are many out there who are on the same journey.
On one of the above-linked articles (I forget now which one), one comment in particular struck me:
But that was then. In the 'developed world,' at this point, stuff is cheap. Ridiculously cheap. Most things are essentially disposable; clothing, electronics, furniture, and even vehicles are all purchased with the expectation that they'll break, wear out, or fall apart in a relatively very short time and need replacing. Where our grandparents would save up for and treasure a good winter coat for many years, we offhandedly own twenty that are all shoddy. But it doesn't matter, because even before their short lifetimes are up, we'll probably get bored of them and buy new ones out of pure whim.
Minimalism isn't really about not owning stuff. It's about identifying value.
At first blush, it might seem that the root cause of overconsumption, rampant consumer waste, and an actual topic and audience for the TV show Hoarders is over-valuing our stuff. I can't possibly get rid of any of my twenty winter coats despite the fact that live in the tropics because I love them. I need them. They give me a sense of worth, and I would be losing something valuable if I didn't have them.
But let's think about this.
Is this really value? What is value? Is it what someone else would pay for the object, or some quantification of the pleasure or usefulness that you personally derive from it? It's in your possession, after all. Are you truly happier with many cheap, flimsy things than you would be with fewer really spectacularly well-made ones? How do you know?
If you're deriving neither use nor happiness from the item, regardless of what you paid for it or what its 'original price' was, it is worthless.
Are we, perhaps, actually under-valuing our stuff? The phrase 'materialism' is generally used to indicate the hoarder-like behavior of accumulating stuff for the sake of accumulating stuff. But what if we could forge a better relationship with our possessions, and genuinely care about them? This is a fundamentally different approach. Appreciating, taking care of, and really enjoying the things in our lives, rather than being ruled by them, seems to me to be a better form of materialism. If you fell in love with an excellent coat, wouldn't you want it to last for years so you could go on enjoying it instead of throwing it away after a season? Disposable culture has redefined our relationship with stuff, and not for the better. Perhaps the problem is that we're not materialistic enough!
When I was little, I participated in the pog craze. In case you skipped that one, it was technically based on a game developed with milk caps but turned into a pre-teen consumer frenzy in the mid-90's. Kids bought, collected, hoarded, and traded these little cardboard discs with pictures on them. Very rarely was the game actually played; it was mostly about the collecting process. We'd set up little trading posts with each other, and proudly display our expansive collections. It was quite the phenomenon.
At the time, I had some good friends who lived just down the street. I'd go over to their house, we'd each claim a corner of the room to set up the pogs we were interested in trading, and then go visit the other 'shops' to haggle and barter. My little mind was struck with a notion that seemed to have some merit. My shop instituted a 'quantity for quality' policy, wherein I would encourage my friends to offer their good pogs and in exchange I'd give them piles of crappy ones. I even made a sign. They thought this was a wonderful deal. They were getting ten pogs, while only surrendering one! What a chump I was!
After a few weeks of this, my friends noticed that I'd accumulated all their high-quality (this is relative, of course. Fundamentally they were all just silly little cardboard discs.) pogs, while they were left with piles and piles of really cheap, lower-quality ones. They got sore about it and stopped trading with me.
If what you value is having many things, you will surely wind up with (metaphorically speaking) large piles of low-quality pogs. Perhaps it won't be a deliberate or conscious process (my friends certainly didn't think to extrapolate the situation beyond each individual trade), but over time actions will align themselves with core values. Then all the stuff will weigh you down
So what happens if you value good things instead? If you can appreciate having a smaller number of things, but everything you own is your favorite thing? Where moving is easy, and there are no piles to trip over, and all your possessions bring you joy? Wouldn't that be marvelous?
That's why I talk so much about getting rid of things. Not really out of any ascetic drive or sense of self-deprivation, but out of selfishness. I want to love all my things, instead of being annoyed by how they're in the way and dusty and taking up so much space. I want the freedom to take a job across the country and move into a smaller place. I want to spend much less time thinking about, stressing about, and cleaning my stuff. I want good stuff that actually enriches my life, dammit!
I'm in no way unique in this, of course, and there are many out there who are on the same journey.
On one of the above-linked articles (I forget now which one), one comment in particular struck me:
"I don’t want to be rich, I want to be free. And freedom is worth more than stuff."Yes.
5.10.2012
it's the little things
This is an off-topic personal-life post.
I haven't been sleeping well lately. Whether it's work stress or our aging mattress or some hidden malady, I don't know. The point is that it's made me groggy and grouchy for the past few days.
When I got home yesterday, predictably grumbly, not only had Mr. Geek prepared a delicious dinner, but afterward I was shooed off upstairs to soak in a hot bathtub for an hour and then go to bed early.
Thank you, baby. That was just what I needed.
Sure, the evening could have been spent on doing little household chores or 'catching up' on various things on our Netflix queue. I'm sure his preference would have been for us to spend it on video games. But instead, I got to spend my tiny amount of time at home on luxuriously pure relaxation and rejuvenation. I feel nearly human for the first time in a week.
It's the little things.
5.09.2012
today I love...
...the notion of washing my hair with beer. I'm a big proponent of alternative hair treatments (have you ever read all the chemicals they put in shampoo?), and have been using a homemade vinegar-based conditioner for a year or so now.
An idea that keeps some of the world's pervasive chemicals off of me, and helps declutter the bathroom to boot (think about how many bottles of store-bought goo are in your bathroom. I'm convinced they breed when we're not looking.)? Sign me up!
I tried the whole 'no poo' thing (which is a really unfortunate moniker for the notion of not washing your hair and letting natural scalp oils do the job for you), which seems to have worked wonders for some people. However, with my very fine hair I was never quite able to get past the greaseball stage, and the dandruff was unbearable. So I'm back on the shampoo bandwagon, though I love my vinegar conditioner and am always in the market for new ideas to reduce reliance on commercial chemicals.
Mr. Geek is a passionate brewer, so we always have beer around. I may need to try this...
An idea that keeps some of the world's pervasive chemicals off of me, and helps declutter the bathroom to boot (think about how many bottles of store-bought goo are in your bathroom. I'm convinced they breed when we're not looking.)? Sign me up!
I tried the whole 'no poo' thing (which is a really unfortunate moniker for the notion of not washing your hair and letting natural scalp oils do the job for you), which seems to have worked wonders for some people. However, with my very fine hair I was never quite able to get past the greaseball stage, and the dandruff was unbearable. So I'm back on the shampoo bandwagon, though I love my vinegar conditioner and am always in the market for new ideas to reduce reliance on commercial chemicals.
Mr. Geek is a passionate brewer, so we always have beer around. I may need to try this...
5.08.2012
have a plan
Living unconsciously (that is, without an explicit plan or road map) can be an okay thing. Throughout my undergraduate career I drifted a lot, studying what was interesting and picking up a few accidental degrees. I did what I felt like doing, and didn't think overly much about where I was going or what came next.
By and large, this worked out just fine; I've got a fantastic husband, several bachelor's degrees, a heck of a lot of experience performing on stage, and a wonderful circle of friends.
The downside is that the hakuna matata approach was applied to my finances as well. I got a credit card, and then signed up for another one when I was at a conference and they were offering a spiffy-looking duffel bag if you filled out an application. My parents continued to support me for a few years into college, and I generally spent everything I had. Oh, my upbringing led me to be generally frugal and I didn't spend lavishly or anything, but I didn't really think about saving and didn't worry too much about carrying credit balances. I lived beyond my poor-college-student means. But I'd pay it later. No worries!
Fortunately I went to an exceptionally inexpensive university, so my debt is a microdrop in the bucket compared to those who had to finance, say, law school. However, debt is still debt, and it's still an albatross around one's neck. Making a good salary but seeing such a large portion of it going to fund my past self is rather dissatisfying. Think about what I could be doing with that money now! I could be making our emergency fund so comfy that we really don't have to worry about it. I could be saving up for trips overseas. I could be throwing awesome parties for my friends.
Now I have a plan.
My plan, as I've written about before, has several steps. Fundamentally, it's the snowball method.
Bonus points if you can stay out of debt after achieving freedom. But that's a future mission, and is beyond the scope of my project right now.
At this rate, I'll be completely debt-free in December of 2013. Sooner, if I can scrape together more snowflakes. Here's to freedom!
By and large, this worked out just fine; I've got a fantastic husband, several bachelor's degrees, a heck of a lot of experience performing on stage, and a wonderful circle of friends.
The downside is that the hakuna matata approach was applied to my finances as well. I got a credit card, and then signed up for another one when I was at a conference and they were offering a spiffy-looking duffel bag if you filled out an application. My parents continued to support me for a few years into college, and I generally spent everything I had. Oh, my upbringing led me to be generally frugal and I didn't spend lavishly or anything, but I didn't really think about saving and didn't worry too much about carrying credit balances. I lived beyond my poor-college-student means. But I'd pay it later. No worries!
Fortunately I went to an exceptionally inexpensive university, so my debt is a microdrop in the bucket compared to those who had to finance, say, law school. However, debt is still debt, and it's still an albatross around one's neck. Making a good salary but seeing such a large portion of it going to fund my past self is rather dissatisfying. Think about what I could be doing with that money now! I could be making our emergency fund so comfy that we really don't have to worry about it. I could be saving up for trips overseas. I could be throwing awesome parties for my friends.
Now I have a plan.
My plan, as I've written about before, has several steps. Fundamentally, it's the snowball method.
- Stop putting anything on credit cards. No really. Even if you're going to pay it off right away. You got yourself in this situation, so you obviously cannot be trusted. Put down the plastic. Credit balance only gets to shrink from here on out.
- Prioritize debts to pay off. I chose the smallest-balance-first method because it provides small victories sooner in the process, though as it turned out in my case highest-interest-first would have resulted in the same prioritization.
- Budget a total amount of monthly cash for debt repayment. For me, this is around 40% of my income, and that seems to be sustainable in my current life situation.
- Make minimum payments on all but the highest priority debt. Throw the remainder at that high-priority albatross.
- When one debt gets paid off, throw a party! Your snowball is now bigger. All the money that was going to the debt you're now free of can now be assigned to the second-highest-priority debt.
- Throw snowflakes at the process when you can, but don't go overboard. Even if it's for a good cause (getting out of debt), violating the master equation isn't very nice.
- Rinse, repeat.
Bonus points if you can stay out of debt after achieving freedom. But that's a future mission, and is beyond the scope of my project right now.
At this rate, I'll be completely debt-free in December of 2013. Sooner, if I can scrape together more snowflakes. Here's to freedom!
5.02.2012
5.01.2012
april financial retrospective
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Another month, another financial retrospective. This month we see the recurrence of the lovely purple pie slice of savings. It's small, but it's there. I certainly can't be always expecting windfalls like last month's extra paycheck! In any case, this is a sign that things are going well, and I'm not violating the master equation. As long as I practice sufficient conscious spending and keep my debt 'expenditures' down to the base snowball amount, it appears that I can allow myself a few small splurges. It seems like a good balance.
This month involves a rather large number in the 'household' category. This has a few reasons, most notably our large six-month anniversary party. The bouncy house was affordable but not cheap (and certainly more than worth it for the experience of getting to play in one as a grown-up), and I racked up some charges buying party supplies. Admittedly, I seem to have overestimated the need, despite the very large list of attendees, so we will now have paper plates and plastic cutlery until the heat-death of the universe. Warehouse stores can be tricky propositions.
Additionally, due to my newfound financial stability (not attributed to me being sensible or anything, but rather to disallowing extra enthusiasm-fueled debt payments), I was finally able to contribute to our joint account for the first time in a while. That account is used to pay bills and such, and also houses our emergency fund. We like to keep its balance relatively steady over time, but it's been dropping a bit lately. Happily, that corresponds with me getting my affairs more in order, so it should be a trivial problem to correct. I do hate being a drain on our finances, so I'm very happy that I can resume being a contributing member of our little household economic society. Feeling competent and useful is definitely one of the benefits of being financially responsible.
Also, I seem to have spent about $50 more than usual on fuel this month. I've no idea why. Perhaps I drove to work a few more times than usual instead of taking the vanpool. Though gas prices are always climbing, I don't think they've jumped quite enough in merely a month to justify the marked increase in fuel expenses.
I have a line item in my budget spreadsheet labeled 'fudge factor.' I use this to make up the difference between my tracked spending and the actual balance in my checking account at the end of the month. Usually I misplace (forget to record) a bit, and that makes the numbers line up, as well as reminding me that I need to get better at tracking everything. Weirdly, this month the fudge factor was negative, meaning that I wound up with more money than expected. I haven't spotted any spending that has yet to post to the account. If I get to it, I may go through and actually track the balance through to try to find the discrepancy, but for now I'm baffled. Some of the strangest artifacts show up in this process at times.
I did splurge a little bit on myself this month, in that a good friend and I went on a thrift-shopping date and I picked up a pile of clothes. Not too much was spent, and I was extremely picky so everything purchased not only was a 'good deal' but fits well, looks good on me, and goes with my overall style. Yes, it seems a bit weird to be adding clothes to the situation right when one is on a crusade to reduce quantity of clothing and create a more curated wardrobe, but on some level it makes sense. I don't go shopping very often at all, and as a consequence my wardrobe has not notably evolved much in the past decade. My personal style, however, has definitely changed in that time. I also must admit that my body has undergone a few changes as well. Consequently, much of what I already have is ill-fitting and/or simply uninteresting.
Fashion trends aren't particularly relevant, because the style I seem to be working toward is more 1940's professional (in this month's haul were several gorgeous pencil skirts that make me feel fabulous) than whatever is 'hot' right now (I found a pair of Converse high-tops that were made to be folded down to show off the pink plaid lining. There were even eyelets in the tongue to make sure that it stayed firmly in place folded down over the laces. This is a thing?). However, this is still a significant departure from my jeans-and-tank-top wearing teen and college years, so my closet does need input as well as output if it is to evolve into a lovely, appropriate, small collection that I feel great in. It's difficult to get rid of a piece you may not like if you've nothing to replace its function with. So it's my hope that adding really high-quality pieces I actually like and will wear will free up some of my mental blocks on getting rid of older things.
Or perhaps I just like shopping and am trying to rationalize. What do you think?
To return to the financial picture being painted, overall April went quite well. I contributed to our joint fund, splurged on a fantastic party and fabulous clothes, and still showed a net savings. I call that a win!
4.26.2012
today I love...
...honest discussions about gender politics, as with this amazingly well-written and empowering letter and the comments upon it. The Internet is an amazing place, and it's full of both thoughtful, insightful people who know how to be civil to one another and insecure jackasses who need to insult each other with every remark for no apparent reason. It's so nice when the former group can get together and have a real conversation!
To be more on-topic, it's always bothered me profoundly when people use the terms 'girly' or 'gay' to be insults. A casual 'what a pussy' or 'that's gay' is both incredibly denigrating to a huge proportion of the population and usually completely irrelevant to the topic at hand. I've heard people call each other gay for the silliest things, like messing up in a game or being late to an event. What on the green hills of earth does sexual orientation have to do with punctuality? I was once called a slut for standing in the way in a hallway. The irrelevancy just about caused my head to explode with confusion even as I was reeling from the shock of the strength of the insult. What's the point here?
Okay, okay, I know about the male need to verbally bash the bajeezus out of each other in order to show affection. I don't have to understand it, but I get that it's a thing. However, there's a difference between calling someone an incompetent jerk (which might be at least subjectively true based on immediate evidence) and using an incredibly personal insult that has nothing to do with what's going on, may or may not be true, and at best denigrates an entire sector of humanity to everyone in earshot. Associating unacceptable or 'inferior' behavior with being a 'jerk' (or insert your favorite relevant insult here) is one thing (jerk being a descriptor that is defined by such behavior), but associating that unacceptable or 'inferior' behavior with being a 'girl' or a 'fag' is quite another. What message does that send to any girls who might overhear you? That they're automatically inferior, and it's a bad thing for anyone to be lowered to their level. What message does that send to straight men in the room? That they'd better be afraid of having any 'feminine' qualities. What message does that send to your friend who hasn't yet quite worked up the courage to tell his buds that he might be gay? That he's bad, wrong, inferior, and should shut up.
Even if you make the case that the terms have become divorced from their original meanings in the head of the person using them and are generic insults completely devoid of gender-related or sexual meaning, what excuse is that? Oh, because it's an unthinking propagation of destructive stereotypes it's okay? Words have power, whether you're bothering to think about it or not.
\end{rant}
Wow, that apparently touched a nerve. I didn't intend to do quite that much ranting on the topic! Moving on.
Taken from the comments of the above letter:
Hear hear! For even more perspective, dig this take on historical gender perceptions! From that article:
...explains a lot, doesn't it?
Ultimately, boys are better at peeing standing up, and girls can grow new humans. Other than that, we're pretty much people. Aside from the Grand Unifying Theory of Gender Relations, of course.
Let's teach the next generation a little civility and acceptance, shall we?
To be more on-topic, it's always bothered me profoundly when people use the terms 'girly' or 'gay' to be insults. A casual 'what a pussy' or 'that's gay' is both incredibly denigrating to a huge proportion of the population and usually completely irrelevant to the topic at hand. I've heard people call each other gay for the silliest things, like messing up in a game or being late to an event. What on the green hills of earth does sexual orientation have to do with punctuality? I was once called a slut for standing in the way in a hallway. The irrelevancy just about caused my head to explode with confusion even as I was reeling from the shock of the strength of the insult. What's the point here?
Okay, okay, I know about the male need to verbally bash the bajeezus out of each other in order to show affection. I don't have to understand it, but I get that it's a thing. However, there's a difference between calling someone an incompetent jerk (which might be at least subjectively true based on immediate evidence) and using an incredibly personal insult that has nothing to do with what's going on, may or may not be true, and at best denigrates an entire sector of humanity to everyone in earshot. Associating unacceptable or 'inferior' behavior with being a 'jerk' (or insert your favorite relevant insult here) is one thing (jerk being a descriptor that is defined by such behavior), but associating that unacceptable or 'inferior' behavior with being a 'girl' or a 'fag' is quite another. What message does that send to any girls who might overhear you? That they're automatically inferior, and it's a bad thing for anyone to be lowered to their level. What message does that send to straight men in the room? That they'd better be afraid of having any 'feminine' qualities. What message does that send to your friend who hasn't yet quite worked up the courage to tell his buds that he might be gay? That he's bad, wrong, inferior, and should shut up.
Even if you make the case that the terms have become divorced from their original meanings in the head of the person using them and are generic insults completely devoid of gender-related or sexual meaning, what excuse is that? Oh, because it's an unthinking propagation of destructive stereotypes it's okay? Words have power, whether you're bothering to think about it or not.
\end{rant}
Wow, that apparently touched a nerve. I didn't intend to do quite that much ranting on the topic! Moving on.
Taken from the comments of the above letter:
As soon as children learn that gender roles vary by culture, they can start thinking about what sort of culture they want to see when they’re adults. And that, historically, is how social revolution begins.
Hear hear! For even more perspective, dig this take on historical gender perceptions! From that article:
The more research we do, the more it seems like the only behavior consistently considered normal is the tendency to be way too strict about what normal behavior actually is -- and then being really shitty to the people who don't conform.
...explains a lot, doesn't it?
Ultimately, boys are better at peeing standing up, and girls can grow new humans. Other than that, we're pretty much people. Aside from the Grand Unifying Theory of Gender Relations, of course.
Let's teach the next generation a little civility and acceptance, shall we?
4.25.2012
bears, and a dresser top
As part of my mission to declutter, I'm purging things I have sentimental but useless attachments to.
 |
| Slick |
Meet Slick. Slick was given to me by a very good friend when I was 11 or so. He's named slick because he is made of a very slippery fabric. I love ya, B, but I don't need the bear in order to remember that.
 |
| floppy bear is floppy |
As for this bear... he doesn't really qualify as a sentimental item because I honestly have no idea why I have him. Because he's floppy and fuzzy? My quota for stuffed animals is much lower now than it was ten years ago, and most of that is filled by my flying monkey, my Lil' Richard (squee!), and my maille-wearing, butter-knife-weilding SCA bear. This guy gets to go on an adventure with Slick to a fabulous new home.
Fortunately, I happen to know several 9-ish year old girls who will appreciate these guys. So they'll get passed on to the next generation at my next opportunity.
This ends the highlights of the clearing-off-the-ridiculously-cluttered-dresser project.
Before:
 |
| messy, cluttered dresser top |
And after:
 |
| clearer, easier-to-dust dresser top |
Ah! Much better! Mr. Geek quite literally gaped when he saw what I'd done to this previously super-cluttered area. I figure that's a reaction to be proud of. Now to find another corner to tackle...
4.18.2012
wednesday love
Today I love this blog that I found through the blog equivalent of Wikipedia Effect the other day.
From small tips on simplifying to dealing with a spouse's clutter without starting World War III to succinct guidelines on decluttering in general, Rachel of Small Notebook for a Simple Home is a fantastic resource on any decluttering journey.
She especially has a lot of fantastic advice on achieving a small, stylish, easy to deal with wardrobe, which is one of my overarching goals for myself. I need to mount a major offensive on my overstuffed closet one of these days. I own an incredible quantity of clothing but find that the same few pieces wind up in the laundry every week, while the rest just sits there. What's the point of that?
Wouldn't it be great if we only had to purchase, clean, maintain, and look at our very favorite things?
Ultimately, getting organized is not the goal. Simplifying is not the goal. The point of going to the effort to declutter and create more free space is just that, to create freedom. The freedom for experiences and travel instead of stuff. The freedom to move across the country if needed without having a panic attack about packing all your tchochkes. The freedom to focus more on the important people and ideas in life.
Also, I love my cast iron pan. I got it at a yard sale, and the clueless yuppies who just wanted this chunk of metal gone after cleaning out their grandmother's attic sold it to me for $5. Best $5 I've ever spent. I've discovered through setting up camp kitchens that I can cook almost anything if I have my trusty cast iron, a teakettle, and my Le Creuset dutch oven. It kind of makes that huge stack of frying pans that barely fits in the kitchen cabinet seem just a trifle superfluous...
From small tips on simplifying to dealing with a spouse's clutter without starting World War III to succinct guidelines on decluttering in general, Rachel of Small Notebook for a Simple Home is a fantastic resource on any decluttering journey.
She especially has a lot of fantastic advice on achieving a small, stylish, easy to deal with wardrobe, which is one of my overarching goals for myself. I need to mount a major offensive on my overstuffed closet one of these days. I own an incredible quantity of clothing but find that the same few pieces wind up in the laundry every week, while the rest just sits there. What's the point of that?
Wouldn't it be great if we only had to purchase, clean, maintain, and look at our very favorite things?
Ultimately, getting organized is not the goal. Simplifying is not the goal. The point of going to the effort to declutter and create more free space is just that, to create freedom. The freedom for experiences and travel instead of stuff. The freedom to move across the country if needed without having a panic attack about packing all your tchochkes. The freedom to focus more on the important people and ideas in life.
Also, I love my cast iron pan. I got it at a yard sale, and the clueless yuppies who just wanted this chunk of metal gone after cleaning out their grandmother's attic sold it to me for $5. Best $5 I've ever spent. I've discovered through setting up camp kitchens that I can cook almost anything if I have my trusty cast iron, a teakettle, and my Le Creuset dutch oven. It kind of makes that huge stack of frying pans that barely fits in the kitchen cabinet seem just a trifle superfluous...
4.16.2012
belated march financial retrospective
I've been tragically derelict in my blog-writing duties of late. So here is my much belated financial retrospective for March.
In terms of expenses this month, the most notable things were tickets to two separate food festivals (and associated purchases), and quite a lot of money going toward a big camping event in Arizona. Mr. Geek and I both play in the SCA, a group of silly history buffs who dress up in medieval clothes and hit each other with sticks. March saw the second largest SCA event in the country, and so there are tickets, travel expenses, and gear for my camp kitchen on my spreadsheet. Fun, but pricey. But sometimes fun is worth it. Frugality means not spending in some areas so that you have the ability to spend on the things you actually care about. It's a good goal.
How am I doing on my mission to curtail food spending? Not so hot. March's 'grocery' entry is the largest of this year, but part of that was due to feeding several people out of my camp kitchen for a long weekend. They did help offset the cost, though. I fear that I must devise more active methods of reducing the grocery budget, for the simple 'try to spend less' approach seems to not be working.
This month we see the glorious arrival of a fifth, purple pie slice in the chart, one marked 'savings,' thus indicating that for once I did not violate the master equation. For my documentation purposes, 'savings' is defined as the difference between income and expenditures. While this situation was largely established due to luck rather than discipline, I'll take what I can get.
In my mission to re-build my checking account cushion I failed miserably right up until the end of the month. Despite my best efforts (and not overpaying on debts past my allotted snowball, no matter how much I wanted to), there I wound up, back at the same not terribly sizable balance. Fortunatly, March has a bonus pay period in it. Yes, it still means that the money from that paycheck must cover two weeks of groceries and fuel and the like, but it is effectively exempt from monthly expenses such as credit cards, car payments, and my membership in my commuting vanpool. This left me with more money than expected at the very end of the month. So while I can't attribute this month's success to any victory in personal planning and I didn't get to use my bonus paycheck for anything particularly interesting as suggested in the article linked at the beginning of this paragraph, I have technically succeeded at this month's mission to re-establish my cushion. Huzzah!
In terms of expenses this month, the most notable things were tickets to two separate food festivals (and associated purchases), and quite a lot of money going toward a big camping event in Arizona. Mr. Geek and I both play in the SCA, a group of silly history buffs who dress up in medieval clothes and hit each other with sticks. March saw the second largest SCA event in the country, and so there are tickets, travel expenses, and gear for my camp kitchen on my spreadsheet. Fun, but pricey. But sometimes fun is worth it. Frugality means not spending in some areas so that you have the ability to spend on the things you actually care about. It's a good goal.
How am I doing on my mission to curtail food spending? Not so hot. March's 'grocery' entry is the largest of this year, but part of that was due to feeding several people out of my camp kitchen for a long weekend. They did help offset the cost, though. I fear that I must devise more active methods of reducing the grocery budget, for the simple 'try to spend less' approach seems to not be working.
This month we see the glorious arrival of a fifth, purple pie slice in the chart, one marked 'savings,' thus indicating that for once I did not violate the master equation. For my documentation purposes, 'savings' is defined as the difference between income and expenditures. While this situation was largely established due to luck rather than discipline, I'll take what I can get.
In my mission to re-build my checking account cushion I failed miserably right up until the end of the month. Despite my best efforts (and not overpaying on debts past my allotted snowball, no matter how much I wanted to), there I wound up, back at the same not terribly sizable balance. Fortunatly, March has a bonus pay period in it. Yes, it still means that the money from that paycheck must cover two weeks of groceries and fuel and the like, but it is effectively exempt from monthly expenses such as credit cards, car payments, and my membership in my commuting vanpool. This left me with more money than expected at the very end of the month. So while I can't attribute this month's success to any victory in personal planning and I didn't get to use my bonus paycheck for anything particularly interesting as suggested in the article linked at the beginning of this paragraph, I have technically succeeded at this month's mission to re-establish my cushion. Huzzah!
3.22.2012
people are weird
Today, in addition to the usual complement of discarded soda cans, sports drink bottles, and plastic grocery bags wound determinedly around cacti, I came across some more unusual discarded items on my walk. Namely, a seat belt from a car, various pieces of drywall, a lone sneaker, and a big piece of twisted sheet metal. I left the sheet metal where it was, for lack of any better ideas.
Why any of that wound up along a random trail, I'll never know. People are weird.
I also found two golf balls, and those I kept. They'll be put to good use for self-foot-massagey-acupressure purposes.
In other news, it's an obnoxiously beautiful day today. Happy Thursday!
Why any of that wound up along a random trail, I'll never know. People are weird.
I also found two golf balls, and those I kept. They'll be put to good use for self-foot-massagey-acupressure purposes.
In other news, it's an obnoxiously beautiful day today. Happy Thursday!
3.21.2012
today I love...
...this exquisite summary of social dance culture. It's partially a tutorial in etiquette, a topic that I happen to find fascinating and quite diverting, but that some feel is rather dry. More importantly, it seeks to define the more elusive qualities that define the happiest, most in-demand, and best social dancers (hint: it's not extensive training or the ability to execute complicated steps).
If I ever am in a position to teach social dance again, I think this treatise shall be required reading prior to the first lesson. Delightful!
3.20.2012
the final frontier
I don't claim to know what mine would be yet, but it's a useful thought experiment to keep in mind as I continue along my decluttering journey. There are many benefits to living with less stuff. Today I want to talk about one in particular, one very near and dear to my heart as a person in possession of two X chromosomes: clothing.
Some of my favorite memories are from traveling. When I go somewhere, whether it's for a weekend or a month, I'm pretty stubborn about taking as little stuff as possible. Of course, when I was younger, that was not at all the case. I recall going to see my extended family over the holidays for about three weeks by myself when I was six or seven (complete with excessively friendly flight attendants and an enormous orange tag around my neck that said who I belonged to) and bringing one of those enormous bags that would probably be over the airlines' weight limit these days.
What on earth did a six-year-old need with fifty pounds of clothes?
Granted, at that age I certainly wasn't the one who had to schlep all that around. That's what grown-ups were for.
This behavior continued for many years thereafter. In order to go anywhere I seemed to think that I needed absolutely everything that might possibly be useful in any contingency. Then, of course, if I wanted a particular thing I would have to dive through the huge pile of stuff for several minutes in order to find it. It was really only a few years ago that I realized the foolishness of this. It finally dawned on me that if you carry less stuff you become much more mobile, experience less travel frustration, and can even find your stuff when you look for it! And as yet another bonus, the airlines never get a chance to misplace your things (an unfortunate situation that I've thankfully never had to go through, but I've seen it seriously mess up trips) if you only need a carry-on.
Now I do things like travel in Europe for two weeks with only an undersize carry-on and a large purse. I obsessively read packing tips, think for weeks about which outfits to bring to maximize versatility, and drool over nifty travel gadgets. On our Europe trip last year, Mr. Geek had to put up with me stringing an elastic clothesline across the bathrooms of various bed and breakfasts and washing out clothes in the evenings. Of course, that was the least of our adventures, but those stories are for another time.
With less stuff it was easy to hop on and off of trains, wander the streets of London (except when his bag's wheel broke... that was a bad day), and fit easily into the sometimes tiny bedrooms at our assorted stopping places. I also felt like much less conspicuously American, which is a plus when overseas. I didn't really have to worry about my stuff; aside from the nightly sink laundry, everything pretty much took care of itself. I didn't even really have to think about what to wear each day, because there just weren't that many options. Going hiking? Then it'll be my comfy navy zip-off slacks and my breathable purple top, maybe with the navy cardigan on top in case it gets chilly. Going out to eat? Guess I'm wearing my little black dress. Everything goes with everything else, everything fits perfectly, and everything is the best of its category due to having been so selective in the packing process.
I love clothing, especially in unexpected styles. I like having a variety of 'looks,' and being able to dress appropriately for any eventuality. However, there is something about the simplicity of knowing that every single thing available to put on is my favorite, and never having to hunt for anything. It's interesting that I generally gravitate toward the same items when packing for a trip, but it's not too surprising. What go with me are things that I love wearing, are in great condition, fit perfectly, and can fit in a myriad of situations. Starting with the go-to travel pieces would be a terrific way to begin building a well-curated wardrobe in general. A knee-length black synthetic A-line skirt, for instance, may be the single most versatile piece of clothing I own (unfortunately my best one was recently ruined by a hotel washing machine, so I'm currently scouting for a new one). It can be dressed up with a sparkly top, thrown over hiking pants to add a layer and a bit of respectability, paired with a button-up for business casual, or worn as a super-comfy bottom when lounging around reading. Hence, one of those will always have a place in my travel bag.
That says something. While I'm certainly not going to get rid of all but one of my skirts, it might be a good idea to go through and assign them all a number that quantifies their versatility. Can it be worn both formally and casually? Would it work in a business setting? Is it comfy? Does it go with the shoes I wear most often? Do I have multiple tops that pair nicely with it? It gets one point for each context it works in. Penalties apply if I haven't worn the thing at least twice in the past year.
I would propose that about half of my skirts would only score a 1 or a 2 on this scale. If I got rid of those, I would have more space on my skirt shelf and be able to see the ones I *do* want to wear more easily.
I've deteriorated into talking about specifics, like skirts. Let's back up a little.
Why would one want fewer things? More stuff is the American Dream, after all!
As a culture, we seem to have a bad habit of extrapolating things inappropriately. If one pill is good for me, surely taking two of them will be better. This cookie says 'low-fat' on the package, so I'll be healthier if I eat the whole package. People need stuff to survive, so more stuff will make me happier.
Studies have shown that material wealth and possessions do, in fact, increase happiness. That is, if you happen to be desperately poor and lacking in the basic necessities of life. After a threshold, which turns out to be shockingly low, more possessions have absolutely no effect on happiness. A third car, a slightly bigger flatscreen TV, or a seventh designer handbag will not make you happy or content. What does correlate with happiness after that threshold is people. Relationships. Social circles. Having close friends and getting to really connect with them. Not stuff.
The United States is way up there in term of per-capita affluence, but we're also leading the parade when it comes to depression. I suspect that the logical fallacy of more stuff == happiness is a big part of the widespread discontent in this country.
Enough. I want to get off that particular train, stop being a good little consumer, and figure out what actually works for me. I want to create space in my life to do what I really want to do and to connect with people I love. I want to be able to pick up and move across the country if an amazingly stellar opportunity crops up, without feeling terrified at the prospect of moving all my crap. I want the things I own to stop owning me.
Whether that means having one skirt or ten is yet to be determined.
~~~update~~~
This turned up on my RSS feed this afternoon. Beautiful stuff.
3.19.2012
a tale of two lamps
 |
| rickety lamp is rickety |
As part of my mission to declutter, I'm spending March purging things I have sentimental but useless attachments to.
This lamp has stood next to my bed for years. Okay, so it's really wobbly and top-heavy and I nearly knock it over all the time. Okay, so the leaves are kind of sharp and not fun to run into with a searching hand in the dark. Okay, so it's too tall for my bedside table and so is kind of glare-y. Okay, so it tends to randomly blink on and off occasionally, and the lightbulb mysteriously unscrews itself.
Wait, why do I have this again?
Meanwhile, this little beauty was rescued years ago from my grandmother's farmhouse's attic. It's a darling little porcelain lamp that my auntie had by her bedside when she was little. Its wiring was completely shot, of course (it was the old fabric-wrapped stuff, and was very frayed and worn), but a few months ago I picked up a lamp re-wiring kit and Mr. Geek was kind enough to take it upon himself to rewire the thing. So it's now fully functional, but has been sitting dejectedly amongst the clutter on my dresser, serving no purpose at all. Unfortunately, it does lack for a shade.
 |
| cute little bit of history |
There's an obvious solution to my problem. Moving the shade from the rickety lamp to the porcelain one seems to work out pretty well...
And voila! New bedside lamp that's sturdy, cute, and non glare-y. Plus, it put the family heirloom lamp to a real use! The tall rickety lamp goes into my box to donate to Goodwill. Maybe it'll worm its way into someone else's heart.
