I insist, I need a LIST!

One of my teachers at school drilled into us "if you fail to plan, you plan to fail"  

And you would not be reading this blog if it weren't for my lists.

"Write a blog" has probably been on my mental list for about 2 years (read 2nd line in "Blog One", then the post about making amends.)

And so amongst the other bijillion things on my lists keeping me awake but also very sane, was to write this!

See, it's a week until I'm off to Europe. Look, I know you are all feeling very sorry for me having to endure a long flight with a lovely airline, you're horrified at how I'm going to be going to warmer climates, and you can't fathom how I'm going to manage having free time to spend with friends and seeing shows.

Don't worry, I think I'll be ok.

I'll be ok when I get there, as at the moment, I'm not ok. I have a stress rash, to say the least. Not because I'm worried about flying, or being by myself, or even getting on the wrong train (I've done worse than that in a non-English speaking country)

More because I have managed I fill up every minute before I go with rehearsals, work, catch ups and errands.

My diary looks like the blueprints for Gaudi's La Sagrada Familia in Barcelona: complicated, intricate, and not sure if it's all going to work out.

But then I sat myself down, and made my lists.

I find list making very cathartic, kinda like going to the supermarket in the day time.

In my diary there are bullet points with asterisks, arrows and things circled, underlined and even small motivational diagrams. 

Mostly, there are lists. 

I had "make lists" as one of the things on the list. 2 DAYS IN A ROW. 

And although my schedule for the next few days, and usually most other days of the year for that matter, is as full and raucous as the City Rd McDonalds at 3am on a Sunday, I actually like it this way. (However minus the stress rash....or any other rash if we are REALLY talking about the City Rd McDonalds) 

"Surprisingly, lists help us reach our goals even when we don't accomplish everything on them," says Sonja Lyubomirsky, PhD, a professor of psychology at the University of California, Riverside, and the author ofThe How of Happiness: A Scientific Approach to Getting the Life You Want. Each time you cross something off, it's a mental reminder that you're making progress, an advance that's both gratifying and empowering. That might be why 50% of list makers write down tasks after they've been completed, according to a survey by Sasha Cagen, author of To-Do List: From Buying Milk to Finding a Soul Mate, What Our Lists Reveal about Us.

In my case, this means that things like "eat breakfast" "check facebook" and "breathe" are on the list and double crossed out daily.

Say Yes for Success.

I'm not sure where I got the list making from. My mother used to make lists on scraps of paper, paper bags, back of envelopes or serviettes.  She kept them in ' safe' places such as at the front of her diary, in the car, by the phone, in her address book, wallet, jewellery box,on the bedside table, on a clipboard by the fridge, on the back of her hand, or the pocket of a blouse that got put in the washing machine.

My father, being much more succinct, had one of those minuscule pocket diaries he got from my grandma for the 19th Christmas in a row, and had brief dad-like lists with things like "jobs to give my children to do in the backyard in the holidays"

And "things to do when I go to the shops once a month"

There was a time when I used to either abbreviate things in my list to the point of incomprehension or write my lists in some sort of code, so no-one would know what I was up to. In hindsight  I can't see how 

-go for a run (in code as "Run" or "go")

-ask Jamie about English homework (in code as "Jamie Eng")

And

-shave my legs (in code as "legs")

Were really things of top secrecy, but when you are 14 you just don't want anyone sniffing about your business.

In our current smartphone age, there are endless applications and things to enhance productivity. Reminders, bells, text messages and such palava that mean if we run out of battery, or worse, lose our hands, opps I meant smartphones, things would just never get done. We would wander about listlessly, walk into walls and forget how to wake up. Possibly cease to exist.

So therefore, I'm all about the pen (sword) and the diary (slate). This post-it note business is dismissed, I shall tell 3M to stick it.

 The simple act of tackling the problem on paper can help you feel better equipped to handle it. When it's write there in font of you from your own hand, it's got some power.

And then once it's done you have the power when you slash it off the list. Because slashing something off your list rather than crossing it doubles the satisfaction. Or you draw a box and tick it. Then slash it off. Then take an instagram of it.

Your self-esteem will get an instant boost.

I wish that for this European Summer Catchup And Personal Education trip (E.S.C.A.P.E.trip) I'm going on in just under a week came with one of those kit lists you used to get for school field trips. Actually, there was always a bit about no lollies, lighters or gameboys at the bottom in bold print, so maybe I can just use my own list. It's on the fridge, titled "The E.S.C.A.P.E. trip epic list of doom" featuring several sub categories.

See Psychologists say that obsessive compulsive list makers are trying to create an illusion of control in otherwise chaotic lives....hmm.. but if you make a list, you free up brainpower to analyse your tasks (stare at for a series of minutes) and priortise (asterisk/circle/ go over with a red pen) delegate (call Mum) or even eliminate (slash and burn) some.

Plus, you have a much better chance of actually picking up the dry-cleaning, achieving those career goals, getting a haircut... you get the gist.

And hopefully in my case, getting on the plane next week sans-stress rash.

Jj

One man's trash and the classification of fash

So I Checked out the Camberwell markets on Sunday. Basically they are a massive garage sale, people selling clothes, shoes, art and knick knacks or various vintages and qualities.

 Macklemore's song Thrift Shop has empowered me to say I'm actually quite a fan of second hand goods.  Some people get weird about buying someone else's stuff and well, yes, there are a few things that you just can't buy second hand, like runners, and underwear...and shower curtains. Or cheese.  However, the sneaky second hand steals including bright blouses and blazers hang up pretty spiffy against the newies in my wardrobe, and the fact that I got them for a fraction of the price and am ‘recycling’ puts a whole different coat on things.

That being said, I don't have a huge wardrobe. Monday to Friday consists of shorts and sneakers, so any opportunity to dress up is super exciting, especially since I was institutionalised (read brainwashed into having no style) at uniform schools for 13 years, so it means that every day in real life can bring on "mufti day angst" (plain clothes day I think some call it)

I am no fashion guru, just someone who has been through a lot of dis-dress in shops, in front of mirrors, friends and cameras, and am leaning my lessons, so here are a few theories.

How people dress usually involves a process in order to either be comfortable, classy or compile an 'outfit' rather than just wearing clothes.

There different methods people use when it comes to how they get dressed, and I have classified several categories that most people can fall into.

Wardrobus-practicalus have been known to grab whatever is clean, cool or comfortable.

Fashionitsus-impressionatus can be found carefully constructing an outfit based around a central piece or style. They often have great wardrobes and are much better shoppers. (Than practicalus)

Revealingtightumcheapus characteristically takes a little longer to get dressed because they are wearing such tight clothing and its hard to squeeze into, and they also are taking mirror selfies at the same time.

And finally, a category which I often fall into:  

Indecicivus-insecureus, who spend about 13 min thinking about what to wear, call or txt 2 people to ask what they are wearing, try on 4 different things, whinge and turn their head sideways for about 20 mins, stop for a bit to dance around in underwear, choose an outfit, go to the bathroom before leaving and change their mind again, to go back to put on something else, probably what they started with, or settling for the old favourites.

By doing this process the casualties are strewn on the floor and then become clothes that get neglected and ignored. Sometimes I wear something just because I feel sorry for it, or have made it a priority to wear 'that top' this week to prove to myself that I do NEED to keep it even though it hasn't been out for a year.

I apologised to my jeans this summer because even the thought of wearing something on my legs in 40degree heat brought out the sweats, and now it's winter, I gingerly touch my summer dresses hanging in my wardrobe and promise them "One day, one day the sun will shine"

Oooh… I’m getting all hung up.

I guess the Camberwell market and the people and dogs flocking to it are evidence how “One man’s trash is another man’s treasure.”

Let’s hope us Indecicivus-insecureus can get over the sadness of missing clothes and mufti day angst  to look past the clothes, and find the treasures in the wearer’s smile, rather than their style.

Jj

Trying to make amends

Oh my crazy Aunty's jam, it has been far too long.I certainly failed with this whole blog thing the first time around.....being that I wrote one and now this is my second, one year and several months later. That possibly would count as regular for a tree growing rings in it's trunk (or however that works) but in terms of our fast-paced internet-ruled world, I undeniably need to make amends somehow.....

There are many techniques one uses to win someone back, unstick a situation they managed to get themselves stuck in, or at least try to make their stay in the sin bin a bit better.

An emotive txt message with words like "disappointed in myself" "understanding" "dependable" "sincere" "apologise" can work wonders if you are short of time. Chocolate, wine, flowers and invitations to dinner are a slightly non-creative easy choice but definitely can soften the blows and make your halo glow a bit brighter again...I actually felt slightly guilty for using chocolate to make amends with a colleague because, once she had jumped over the moon after receiving my Cadbury covered apology, she bragged to other colleagues about how I was her new favourite person. Not really the reaction I was expecting but that was definitely better than her throwing the chocolate back at me in a raging bout of reluctance to forgive .

But then there are some things you cannot use creamy sweets, dreamy feats or steamy speech to remove the spanner from the works.... Moments where you really wish you could take out the remote control of life and press rewind, and when you realise you can't, any attempt to make amends seems more feeble than your ability to lick your elbow....Like the other week, when I somehow managed to severely annoy the lady about to give me a bikini wax.  I had to wait for my appointment, and could not think of a better way to spend the spare moments than to eat an orange. In my effort to avoid getting the juice from said orange on the cushions and throws and those round cushiony things I don't really understand, I briefly went behind her reception desk to put my orange peel in the bin. Bikini wax lady returned, and even though I was no longer behind the desk, she sensed that I had been back there and suddenly changed tone, going dark asking what I had been doing. With orange in my mouth I politely explained my intention, not predicting it would have plucked such a chord with the beautician. I believe the silent treatment and short words I got from her was a bit of an overreaction, however once it was time to erm....remove some clothing before other stuff could be removed, I realised that pissing off the person about to pull things from around your privates is probably the worst thing to do. And I literally had no leg to stand on in terms of a defense, or way to make her 'like me' again. (I had already finished the orange so couldn't offer her a segment in an act of parle) Fortunately for me she did a really good job, though any praise I gave just sounded like a useless attempt at sucking up, and no matter how much I waxed on, there was nothing I could do to change her tune.

Hopefully such situations don't occur too often in your lives, and, when it all comes down to it, a simple "I'm sorry I.......... and I hope you ............" is all there is to it. Bells, whistles, text messages and gumballs really have nothing on facing up to problems and not only apologising and fixing them, but making sure such situations don't happen again. So, it looks like in order for me to make amends for this blog, I have to keep you posted. (get it?)Jj