a girl in her element is gettting a makeover of sorts. I’m working on making it more user friendly, as well as doing some things to make the site load faster (or at least that’s the hope!)
I will be back soon with lots more adventures and of course, misadventures!
I’ve mentioned previously that I do not consider myself a pack rat. I ’squirrel’ things away and I like to stockpile things, especially when I find a smoking good deal on them.
But lately, the clutter around me is starting to stress me out. Maybe it’s the holidays fast approaching, and I ache for a neat house. Or perhaps it’s the fact that I can’t see my desk… or nightstand… or bottom of the closet, any closet. Whatever it is, the clutter around me is starting to muddle my head.
Which is never good.
Because I have enough jumble in my head as it is. I do not need to add to it. In any way, shape or form.
So I’m embarking on a new project. DE-CLUTTERING. Getting rid of crap. Simplifying my life. Turning over a new leaf. Whatever you want to call it, this stuff has GOT TO GO.
What I really want to do is just haul everything to the side of the curb and let the garbage men deal with it. But the common sense part of my head (and yes, I have one, albeit small) says “don’t do it!” I’ve done something similar before, and it creates an insurmountable amount of chaos.
I start running around the house looking for something. I can’t find it. I call my parents and my friends to see if I lent it to them. I didn’t. I call them again to see if they have one I can borrow. They don’t. I run around the house again to double check. It’s not there. I remember I tossed it out thinking I wouldn’t need it. I curse. I skedaddle out to the store and buy a new one. Life is good again. Until the next time I’m looking for something I threw away.
Because I desperately do not want to recreate that scene again, I have decided to go about this strategically. The only problem is that I’m strategy-less. I think I’ve gotten in way over my head. But alas, I’ve made the decision to de-clutter and I’m sticking to it. I have to because let’s just face it – this ain’t working no more.
My head is entering a state of disarray just looking at that photo. And this explains why I pick out my clothes by closing my eyes and randomly pointing. Well, that and the fact that I’m insanely indecisive, so if I don’t randomly pick, it might be time to crawl back into my pajamas by the time I pick an outfit.
I’m attempting to find comfort in the fact that this is all going to change. I’m going to de-clutter my closet and my desk and everything else in this house.
Ahhh, what have I gotten myself into?!?
I don’t know if I can handle it.
Maybe I will just toss everything out of the window and onto the curb. Let someone else deal with it. Why do I never, ever learn my lessons? I can’t do that. History has proven so.
I will conquer this mess, and I’m going to write about it as proof… to the world… well, mostly to myself and maybe my parents who probably won’t believe that their daughter is de-cluttering her life.
Bring it on!
I have long hair, typically about waist-length. I’ve had long hair all my life, and while I love it, it is not the kind of hair that cooperates. It’s not naturally shiny, voluminous or frizz-less. I would never ever be considered for a hair care commercial because they require models to sashay down the street swishing their shiny locks back and forth in a glamorous and carefree manner. My hair is anything besides glamorous and carefree. Heck, half the time, I’m lucky if I can keep it from looking like a comfy place for a bird to call home.
At some point towards the end of the teenage years and into my earlier 20s, I convinced myself that pricey shampoo HAD to work better. My best guess is that it was the result of a combination of reading some article in a magazine (probably titled “The Best Beauty Products” but should have been titled “The Companies Who Spend the Most Money on Product Promotion“) and being somewhat brainwashed by the hairdresser who somehow got the crazy idea that I would be open to spending more money on shampoo than on a good steak dinner.
And so I set out on a journey, a long and expensive voyage. About six years later, 1,974 bottles of shampoo (and conditioner) stowed away and hundreds of dollars poorer, I have returned from my expedition with an astonishing discovery.
I went from this…
The shampoo that works best to tame my bird’s nest is one that costs less than $5.00! That’s less than a value meal at McDonald’s (although much less tasty… not that I’ve ever accidentally gotten shampoo into my mouth before)
… to this.
There are some things that I don’t mind spending money on (like a good steak dinner!), but I’ve decided, once and for all, that shampoo is not one of them.
I’m so excited I can now stroll down the street without birds landing on my head.
Ever since I moved, I’ve been looking for a box of photos. I’ve been extremely fearful that I lost them somewhere because these are photos that can’t be replaced. I should know that when I can’t find something, the first place to look is at my mom and dad’s house.
Why?
Because I still have quite a few boxes stashed in a closet there. Mostly books, some clothes and a large (and embarrassing) collection of plush animals.
Why?
Because isn’t that what kids do? Fill their parents’ closets with boxes so they don’t have to fill their own?
No?
Well, okay, but that’s what I do. So the other day while I was digging through one of their 13 closets, I came across my long lost box of photos!
It was such a joyous day! And to add to my existing giddiness, there were a ton of other really cool mementos from my childhood in there.
Like this memory book from 3rd grade -
I think Seth was just being nice. I can be a hard worker. I’m sometimes a super smart student. I am NOT good at math. I don’t ever remember being good at math. Oddly enough, I don’t ever voluntarily wearing a dress either… with flowered, puffy sleeves to boot.
And a stack of photos about as tall as I might have been in third grade -
Photos of me as a baby, as a toddler, as a kid, as a teenager… and apparently as a baby who stuck her finger in an electrical socket one too many times.
A card from the hospital where I was born -
I now see I was destined to have big feet.
My first Christmas card -
I also have about 1,928 cards from other random occasions, and to this day, I still save every card I get.
And the main reason I was in a desperate search for this box -
Lots and lots of studio photos of me as a baby. I swear there are photos from at least every other month. I mentioned this abundance of photos of me (in contrast to the 5 photos my parents took of my brother) to my dad. His answer – “You were the first born. We were very careful. By the time, you get to the second one, you drop a carrot on the floor, you wipe it off and give it to them.” And so there’s your welcome into my dad’s world of bluntness. Do you think I should mention to my brother that there’s a good chance he ate dirty carrots?
And lastly, an envelope stuffed full of ticket stubs -
To everything. Basketball games, tourist-y attractions at Niagara Falls, theme parks, tourist-y attractions like caves, movie stubs, tourist-y attractions like train rides… yes, we did a lot of tourist-y things as a family, but hey, I’m not complaining. And… a ticket stub to ‘America’s Sexiest Bachelor’ show at MGM Grand?!?!? One, I went to this as a teenager…. no wonder not all is right in my head now. Two, when, who, what, where are they doing this again?!
Here’s a girl we could all take some lessons from -
Heyyyy mommm, what’s up? I’m just chillin’, thinkin’ about catchin’ some ZZZs. (And yes, this is totally how Kritter would talk… well, at least in my slightly messed up head)
I’m realllllly tired… from all the work I’ve been doin’. Ya know, the laser chasin’, twisty tie kickin’, tuna munchin’ and nappin’ I’ve been doin’.
Soooo… ummm, ya think I can get some privacy? It’s kinda hard to sleep when you’re sittin’ here, starin’ at me, blindin’ me with your camera. There’s no way I’ll fall asleep.
*Five minutes later*
Finally, I’m asleep. Dreamin’ about rainbows and unicorns… or tuna and catnip.
Slowly make your way up the driveway. Creep towards the door.
Are you sure to want to knock on this door?
Are you positive? This is the crazy house.
Weird people live here. People who do this to their car…
And do this to their cheese…
Don’t say I didn’t warn you.
They eat sandwiches. I wonder what’s really in them.
People who want you to think they’re eating soup but really, they’re not.
They try to cover it up by doing this with their cheese.
But don’t fall for it. I mean it. Why would you believe these strangers? They do this to their cats…
Oh wait… you just wanted some candy. Well, why didn’t you just say so?
Help yourself! Just don’t take too many pixie sticks or else Frankie’s “hair” will be all gone.
Trick or treat! Hope ya’ll come back again, ya hear!
Seriously… come back, please. This is not the creepy residence. I promise.
Wait until Christmas. Then you can judge me!
