Verbiage

Error and Trial

2011-02-25T21:41:00-07:00

Right now I am supposed to be doing real work. Are you surprised? I'll bet most of you who followed a link to this blog are avoiding something less entertaining, and more demanding of your time and/or critical thinking skills. Well maybe I'll disappoint you right away and write a really long and boring entry that starts like this:

I am eating broccoli. It's crunchy and nutritious and, despite what my grumbling stomach tells me, completely adequate to replace the cookies that could be crumbling delightfully over my tongue... I can't do this. The only reason I'm eating this broccoli is that the cookies are WAY in the kitchen. In fact, the only reason I'm doing semi-productive work is that a friend came over for a study party. Blogging and broccoli - what a party! There seems to be a pattern here. Stay with me. It seems that tasks only get done when all other alternatives are eliminated. I am NOT walking all the way to the kitchen when I get the nibbles if there is food directly in front of me. I also cannot go to the movies or play guitar instead of doing, or at least feigning to do, work, since that would make me a rotten hostess. Just this week, my room got so messy that my sanity was put at stake. As a result, all my laundry is now folded and put away, the floor is vacuumed, my sheets are washed and there are exactly zero dirty dishes on my desk. It is my belief that one should be able to channel that potential to accomplish. But how?

Getting SMART

Like the good little researcher I am, I looked around a bit to see how other people suggest that shiz gets done. My mother, of course, gave much of the standard advice I've been hearing for two decades: "Clean up right after you finish something, be responsible for your own mess, think of other people before yourself, and keep your hands busy or else," she mimed picking her nose, "well, you know." All these wise sayings should have made me into a person who is always prompt and responsible, without needing to pick my nose in order to look busy. And they don't seem to have done that. So I asked my friend, who we will call S. She believes that it's necessary to have an action plan for achievement. She also mentioned the acronym SMART which, she remembered, has something to do with how this plan should be laid out. I looked it up to find out what each letter stood for:

Specific

Measurable

Attainable

Realistic

Timely

I actually think I put those guidelines into practice the other day when I wrote one of my famous 'to-do' notes. I am starting to wonder where I went wrong, as all I have to show for myself are a super late Valentine's delivery, cleaned room, iPod full of songs and a stomach full of food (mostly broccoli). I started to evaluate how SMART my list is. Each item corresponded to a very specific task like 'read such-and-such article' and 'fold whites'. The goals were measurable and timely, because I alloted specific blocks of time for each activity. I really hope they were attainable, but I seemed not to be able to sit for half an hour to read an article at any point yesterday. My best guess is that expecting myself to stick to a schedule, while the endless possibilities of reading week conspire to suck out my will to be productive like a Dementor’s Kiss, is not realistic. Therefore, the problem does not lie in my goals, but instead in my estimations of reality and/or motivation to follow my own guidelines. Example: today at 3:30, neither the assignment nor the article critique, scheduled to be completed by noon, have been more than mildly considered. Time for plan 'B'.

Take One and Call Me in a Month

Problems of motivation have notoriously tricky solutions. One needs to essentially fool his/herself into thinking that something like writing a statistics laboratory report is worthwhile and enjoyable. Therefore, I consider my initial suggestion, limiting other choices to leave a certain activity as the most desirable alternative. In my case this would require getting rid of my access to music, food and webcomics whenever I have something important to do. Not going to happen. So I, once again, put aside reason and went surfing the web for a better solution instead of doing an assignment. One dude was able to cure me of my apathy with his awesome accomplishments and aptly titled, "Steve Pavlina's 30 Days to Success" challenge. I am going to take this challenge, just to show you all how rad this idea is. Steve says his method works something like a trial period for software; he has that lazy voice inside my head convinced that the commitment to change is short and therefore totally do-able. Here is my challenge for the next month:

I am going to get up at 6:00 am from the 1st to the 30th of March, without fail, after which point I will be free to miss my first class if I choose. Seeing as blog posts are few and far between, the next entry you see here might well be heralding my success. The sly part of this goal is that the habit I develop might give me confidence to continue waking up early, may help break my morning laziness, and will hopefully provide proof that getting up before noon is a good idea overall. The time I usually lie in bed, sleeping for 2-minute intervals until I'm late for class, will be used to plan and prepare for the day. Of course, I need to work up to this by waking at 7 and 6:30, respectively, on these next weekend mornings. And 6:00 on the first Monday back in school. Yeesh. Feel free to either email me encouraging limericks or predict the date of my failure.

Coal in my Stocking

2010-12-27T01:14:00-07:00

Looking at the last couple posts, you're probably expecting to read about the first weeks of school or even Thanksgiving dinner. Why don't we just say that I locked myself and my textbooks in my room during all those fascinating events; that's a whole lot closer to the truth than I'd like to admit. The third year of my bachelor's degree hit me unexpectedly hard with a ton of brick-heavy books, and stuffed my brain full of facts I am now hastily extracting and filing away. I jest. This semester's notes are either still in my backpack or strewn purposefully across my floor to the empty file folder under the desk. So that's why it's suddenly Christmas time. Surprise!

As is the case with many holidays, our family adheres to some well-loved traditions. We generally celebrate Christmas twice, one with each side of the family, over a hefty pot-luck-type dinner and sometimes a gift exchange. At home we still open stockings stuffed by 'Mom Claus' in the morning and enjoy a free-for-all rapid opening of the tree gifts after. I have gradually changed my personal Christmas preparation somewhat, and this may be the reason for my near panic attack on Christmas eve. Firstly, my two brothers and I used to pick names, allowing us to each buy one normal-priced present instead of two extremely cheap ones. This year we went all out, and I managed to buy almost all of my gifts in one mall within 3 hours. This may have contributed to my inflated sense of gifting ability, because the following decisions weren't as well-executed as these.

Another of my yearly traditions that has changed recently also has to do with my gift giving. I like knitting something as a present. Two years ago I made a headband and mug cozy even if I didn't finish the hat I meant to make as well. Last year I made two out of the three dishcloths I promised, and this year I continued the tradition of not completing my project on time. I wanted to make my mother some really warm socks to go with her relaxing present, so I looked up a pattern online and bought some (expensive!) wool roving and a yarn ball. Hopefully the socks get knit soon, because all my yarn is getting hard to contain in just one shelf...

The roving confuses me still. It is the product of cleaning and combing the wool before it is spun into yarn, and yet letting machines complete the last step slices the sale price in half. Such a mystery. But I bought it and busily began to make the socks about a five days before Christmas. I personally believe that any normal pattern and circumstances would have allowed for the project's completion on schedule, but I fell sick for two days and found I had picked a rather technical pattern. If you are really not interested in how exactly a knitting pattern for socks, of all things, can get tricky, you should probably skip the next paragraph. The sock pattern first asks for many short loops of roving called 'thrums' to be created, then gives very poor indication of how this is to be done or how to use them. I surfed the net and made some parts up, allowing for my previous experience with one, yes one sock to qualify me to do this. Unfortunately my 'expertise' only got me so far.

The 'sock' got a few unflattering comments from my dad and I finally recognized the thing for what is was, horribly fat and ugly. Even modifying my work to what I thought the pattern meant hardly changed the fact that a roll of toilet paper seemed to be concealed inside my ring of stitching. I pulled out all but the ribbed cuff and started over. This time the effect was slightly reduced and my use of the roving more economical, but it was hardly something I could be proud of. At around midnight on Christmas eve I reached the heel of the sock and checked for additional instructions. It was here that I realized just how misguided my decision to make the socks had been. The pattern went from nasty pseudo directions to downright impossible invention of stitches, causing me to desperately search my memory for a method of magicking stitches instead of knitting them. I attribute this downfall in reasoning, and also my poor choice of pattern, to my dissatisfaction with simple scarves or even the same articles of clothing, requiring that everything I knit be something new and almost impossible to construct perfectly. The limited time window I always give myself aggravated my condition and threw me into a delusional fit.

So there I attempted to do the impossible until 2:30 a.m., determined to get the leg and heel done. At one point I considered pulling an all-nighter. Luckily, my mind flashed back to the horrible week before finals when I had been operating on coffee and adrenaline for lack of sleep. I wisely gave the current endeavour up as a lost cause, went to bed and had nightmares where people were mad at me for various reasons. Maybe at that point I had not yet recovered from being sick. All and all it was not a pleasant experience.

Christmas arrived, as it always seems to, carefree and positively merry. I am just glad that my hasty evaluation of a sock pattern and purchasing of priceless wool did not come close to ruining my Christmas spirit. I did learn a bit about planning things ahead of time through all this, and also from my hurried multiple chapter cramming sessions in preparation for finals. It would seem that it pays to be prepared for what's coming. I also need to realize that sometimes it's better to quit when the going gets hard, or when I find I'm persisting at something for a very different reason than the one I had in mind when I began. This may sound like familiar advice. Indeed, when we are told to keep in mind the true meaning of Christmas, Christ's birth, it is because we have revised the reason for our actions somewhere along the way. Maybe this holiday break I'll allow myself a break to consider what my priorities are.

A merry Christmas to my readers!

Liquid Gold

2010-07-30T00:50:00-06:00

Today, before having lunch, I decided it would be a good idea to run my dogs down to a nearby park. We were still going strong as the near edge of the park came into view, so I made the executive decision to get to the far bridge and return through the whole park. It was shortly after this mistake that things took a downhill turn. First I realized that the nearest bathrooms were at least 10 minutes away and that I was unbelievably thirsty. Clouds that had been sitting innocently on the horizon began to darken and the realization that I had to have faith that I would be home in time to shower, cook, wash the dishes and get to work hit me. Spurred on by my liquid imbalance problems, my legs pumped faster and the leashes became more tangled. I tried to think of non-water circumstances such as how light the pavement had been before it was darkened by the rain. Oops.

Now nearly at the bridge, I estimated that we might make it to a bathroom before I exploded. Overestimated. The dogs were thirsty as well, and wouldn't move on until they'd had a drink and a romp in the river. I bit my lip and tugged their leashes a little to convey the need for urgency. The bathrooms called to me from across the field causing us to dash quickly to a tree nearby, where one dog (Cocoa) escaped and led me on a longer chase than was really humanly possible in my state. At last I stumbled into a stall and marvelled at my accomplishment.

There was still the challenge of finding water for me to drink. I saw water everywhere I looked - the dirty river, the taunting raindrops steadily giving us a soaking, the water park set conveniently in the middle of my path, the faucet sitting determinedly out of reach from thirsty mouths. I knew that somewhere in that park there was a water fountain. Somewhere there was beautiful, clean goodness ready to flow into my mouth at the touch of a button. And there it was! A fountain stood almost hidden behind one of the buildings, almost but not quite succeeding in blending in with the trees. I hopped up to it and gleefully pressed the button. This action gave only one response:

The dogs and I continued on our quest with dwindling determination. Raindrops ran down my cheeks (cheekily) as I contemplated lying on the grass, awaiting my death. Then, at last, I saw another fountain. This one didn't disappear when I pinched myself and was positioned under a welcoming branch, as if waiting for someone to come and bask for a while in its glory.

The Little Prince (from a book by the same name) seems to understand a little of the awe I felt in that moment. He says, "What makes the desert beautiful... is that it hides a well somewhere." Of course, I am not familiar enough with the wisdom of The Little Prince to have recalled that exact quote as water splashed over my whole face and down my throat. I did have a moment for some reflection. It seems that sometimes we can barely survive for a period, looking for something we need in all the wrong places. For me, when that happens I feel like replacing my dream with a more attainable one, even though I know a cheap substitute will never make me happy. Today was a good reminder that somewhere whatever I'm looking for is waiting. I should never stop looking for it.

Spice Up Your Life with Efficiency!

2010-07-22T14:41:00-06:00

Hello, neighbourhood, look at your inefficiency, then back to me, now back at your inefficiency, now back to me. Sadly, my efforts to do everything at once are not as attractive as one might hope. Introducing the easiest way to look absolutely crazy while actually accomplishing all of the things you dreamed about doing - at the same time. Allow me to describe for you what this term 'efficiency' looks like.

I wear an awfully sweaty, old, paint-covered shirt while jogging past your lawn. An iPod cord runs from my ears into the waistband of my shorts and underwear. I have to periodically pause to adjust this setup because the shorts roll up around my thighs and the iPod slips out. Two dogs pull me in opposite directions. Bringing both dogs at once will avoid the need for multiple trips, giving each of them twice as much exercise and my arms a workout. Also, there is no psychological damage to the dog left home if walks are performed in this fashion. A smell marks our course, as I have convinced myself that 'I will get cleaned up later,' and have skipped my shower. You can imagine that I am the picture of strategy and success.

Some pain is to be expected when applying the efficiency principle to daily activities. The discomfort manifests itself in this way: If you followed me on my jog, since my methods obviously inspired you, you would see the dogs eventually manage to tie me up beyond the point of further movement. I would patiently disentangle myself while noticing one of the dogs taking a dump in the tall grass. You would observe me trying to untie a bag from the tangles while looking for poop, wearing a mildly annoyed expression. And of course I only brought one bag with me to, again, save time and resources, should one of the bags become lost or unusable from wear. I would worry for the rest of my run that someone is going to drop a deuce (a quatro? I begin to think that is really funny in my delirium). If that happened, I would fight myself, a worthy opponent if there ever was one, trying to untie the knot of the soiled bag. I would finally give up and rip a poop-size hole instead, rendering the bag helpless to contain the smell and rather precarious to boot. The rest of the run would be nearly un-enjoyable, my concentration being focused on finding a garbage can capable of upholding my morals - one with a 'customers only' or 'no personal garbage' sign will not do. If you had not left discouraged at the difficulty of my quest, you would see me welcomed home by beds of flowers, most notably the uprooted rosebush which has managed to blend in with the grass. Shrieks of pain would ensue. Because all that is worth the time I save, I do the same thing the next day.

I'm not on a horse any more.

A Lesson from Chocolate Milk: How to be prepared

2010-07-05T21:19:00-06:00

I don't know if you've noticed, but when materials are prepped they become more useful - especially in situations where a high level of efficiency is desired. Apparently whoever organized this preparation where I work overlooked a couple areas. For example, when it gets busy, there is no time to find more salad, fix the sadistic debit machine or procure chocolate milk. In a world where things like digital watches exist to skip the tedious middle step (interpreting arrow directions), you'd think that getting someone a glass of chocolate milk would be a simple task. Not so. When I hear the words 'chocolate' and 'milk' uttered in the same sentence, my face goes pale and I feel a little ill. Let me explain. Chocolate milk requires following an unwritten recipe, squirting a quantity of syrup into white milk and stirring until it becomes a particular shade of brown. It is imperative that the brown is pleasing to the eyes, neither too dark nor too light, bonus points for achieving complete homogeneity. It is not as efficient as or, I suspect, cheaper than the premade alternative. This week one table requested seven of these volatile concoctions. I made all only to discover that the milk I was using had gone bad. I nearly cried.

'They' say, "Don’t cry over spilled milk," urging us all not to worry about past failures. I believe those authorities should revise their wise words to add something like "...but hold onto the glass more tightly next time." We should learn from our mistakes because, if you are anything like me, you make an embarrassing number of messes. Why not prevent a few of those before they happen? Doing things right in the first place, or learning ways to prepare for imminent failure, can prevent a lot of stress and crying over spilled chocolate milk. I have a theory on how this can be realized. Therefore, here are five steps to maximize time and minimize pain.

1. Set an Ultimate Goal

Examine and set priorities to remind yourself that there is a reason for all this hassle. If necessary, I will invent an intangible goal so that I have a reason to perform a seemingly useless task. When I manage to convince myself that making my bed is worth my time, I have usually fabricated a goal that may theoretically be reached through my action. For example, just in case a friend comes over unannounced or the neighbours are spying on me through binoculars, a made bed will prove to them that I care about organization and sleeping beneath sheets that aren't wrinkled - not someone worthy of their judgement or spying efforts.

2. Break into Manageable Chunks

In order to achieve the lofty goal you have decided upon (or fabricated), the whole job should be broken into easy steps. If you can visualize yourself completing each of these, it is easier to create a mental picture of yourself making an acceptance speech for the 'cleanest bedroom ever' award. You will begin to realize that success is not unreachable and can therefore adopt a positive attitude. Sometimes I have to break my morning into steps including "eat breakfast" and "put on clothes". The more brainless steps there are, the more likely it is that you will complete most of them.

3. Begin with the Most Tedious and Difficult Steps

Finish the hardest part before all the cosmetic bits get any attention. Be prepared to do things like walk all the way upstairs, copy a phone message in neat writing and post it in plain view of the receiver. In my experience, I subconsciously avoid these more labour-intensive tasks in favour of the planning variety. Don't do this. Don't over analyze. Just do it like Nike.

4. Continue with Other, Similar Tasks

A really awesome server once insisted that I maximize my efforts by taking something with me whenever I entered or exited the kitchen. I love to be efficient, even if I am not very good at it. Think of this method as connecting the dots. If you go about in an organized manner the big picture, and the ultimate goal, will start to jump off the page and give you motivation to continue. Except! Do not get obsessed with organization! I think one of my problems with this step is my tendency to be distracted by 'things that need doing'. Do them later.

5. Reward and Revel

If you are happy, it is more likely that you will think positively about working towards a goal, and you are less likely to crave instant gratification. In an example from my own life, this translates to making a batch of cookies instead of eating handfuls of chocolate chips from the bag (or neglecting to bake the cookies before indulging). Want to avoid salmonella? Use these five steps.

When I get things done, I am happy and have motivation to continue accomplishing things - a positive feedback cycle. I am still trying to convince myself that all of these steps are necessary, being the kind of person who is content with 'good enough' until I come to the realization that what I now have could be awesome if I had been a bit more patient. Please let me know if implementing any of these steps improved your life dramatically or if you got stuck in my rut, leaving the house with an unmade bed or sitting alone for hours trying to write about something you have not yet figured out for yourself.

Part Two: Hope

2010-06-29T16:04:00-06:00

You may want to read the first part here.

Yesterday I impressed even myself. When I put it into perspective, compared to my mom who said she had hardly done any of the things she meant to do that day, you will be too. At 3:00 I had completed exactly 50% of the items on my To Do list: eat breakfast (check), email the physics department chair with my marks so that I can get into a required class (I did this later), eat lunch (didn't do that), and deposit my life savings in bill form at the bank (check!). Later in the day, I actually filled out a credit card application so that my money is simultaneously in my hand and in secure places all at once. My education, finances and nutrition all taken care of in a day. Bam. But seriously, I did feel a little better about myself. I want to thank Mom for being unsuccessful with her vastly longer errand list than I was, and for promising me that I am a more responsible person than I give myself credit for. (Could it be I am even responsible enough to look up whether I should end sentences with a preposition? I think so.)

As you may have guessed, this entry will show you just how unbelievably awesome I am at accomplishing things. I present to you proof that I am totally capable of taking care of myself, which automatically transfers to other creatures. Right? Right.

Exhibit A: Completion of half a bachelor's degree

I suppose most of my success in this area has to do with all the time I spent trying too hard in high school. I have an honours society pin, AP certificate, and 75 credits over the 100 minimum just because I had to fit as many classes as I possibly could into three years. Mad as a hatter. Even in university, I have kept up with many hobbies and held down a job while avoiding letter grades that resemble a C. Granted, I almost failed a course because I missed the exam, but that event is traumatic enough to eat up another whole post. A master’s may be in my future. The Dean let me register for a third year of classes. So far, so good.

Exhibit B: I have a job

I still have something of a job, even in the middle of an economic crisis. I could go on about why I think I’ve survived in the restaurant industry or I could just point out that I have a) progressed from busser to hostess to server, b) never been fired c) haven’t completely lost my marbles. I sometimes have nightmares in which I forget about a table for hours and they throw things at me. But I am still employed.

Exhibit Z: Notes

I now draw your attention to the newly organized bulletin board on my wall, complete with helpful notes about important things. Please amuse yourselves while I hastily flip through the calendar on my wall from March to the current month, just to show you all that I realize what day it is (Tuesday!). Fun fact: I actually have four running calendars, so the un-updatedness of this particular calendar does nothing to refute the argument that I have my dust bunnies in order. I have an abundance of notes. Recipes and sewing measurements, statements I have signed, important reminders and lists on every topic are easily visible.

I sincerely hope that the issues and mishaps experienced by yours truly are in the past. You are encouraged to analyze the evidence presented and decide for yourselves if this is a valid conclusion. And guess what? Even If you tell me I have no chance, I am going to blog right through the whole ordeal just to remind you that I am still alive and you were wrong. So there.

Now an unrelated order of business: I would appreciate any ideas that visitors have for making this a more entertaining, informative and diverting read. You can find a contact email in the 'About' section or leave a comment below. Anything from philosophical questions to an embarrassing incident from my childhood you wish me to publicize is welcome.

Part One: The Problem

2010-06-28T03:00:00-06:00

Over the next few weeks I will be introduced to, and forced to become intimate with, Responsibility. My duties include: visiting Nan (my great grandmother) and doing her laundry, paying my grandmother's bills, watering her plants and sorting her mail, walking my two dogs twice a day, working evenings at least 4 days a week at the restaurant, cooking for myself and my dad and house-sitting for another lady. I also applied for another job, which would have me working part-time in the day at an athletic clothing store two doors down from my other job. I don't like paying for gas, you see.

I haven't done the best job at acting adultly (yes, that is now a word) so far. I just turned 20, which means I am officially out of my lazy teen years. Oh so wrong. Nope, I still long to sleep until noon, drink more than I should, act like a 10 year old and make messes with no intention of cleaning them up. As an illustration of the kinds of messes I am prone to making, I have provided two scenes from my past for your horror and amusement. These experiences continue to play on repeat in my head. They warn me that I have a history of irresponsible failure and overall incompetence. Nonetheless, enjoy at my expense.

Firstly, I am often reminded of the summer I looked after my neighbours' fish and geckos. I had to shake a bunch of live bugs into a cage, which made me squeamish, and then feed some seriously large fish. I am not a fan of fish (the way they taste or feel). These ones started spontaneously dying on me almost from day one. I never really found out what was wrong with the first dead guy, but the others might have died because I neglected to remove said dead guy from the tank before they ate him. That's right. Those silly fishes ate another of their kind who died from unknown causes. So much for survival of the fittest (strike, evolution! Um, whatever). Anyway, by the time I had removed all the horribly, slimy, carnivorous fishies from their tank, I began to notice that one of the geckos looked a bit shrunken. And he stayed that way. I mean really stayed. He didn't move from his spot for days - that is, of course, until I go up the courage to prod him a bit. He flipped, light as a feather, onto his back, exposing his void insides. I was repulsed. It was then that I discovered the mucousy bubble, which had formed over the lip of the water bottle. I cleaned it in time for his cage mate to survive, sticking the dead gecko in a box in the freezer. They never asked me to take care of their pets again.

I also had an incident with a mint plant. As you will come to see in subsequent posts, I love to try new hobbies. I start new projects with great relish and interest... and then neglect to finish them. I actually actively avoid finishing things. You should see the stacks of books on my desk right now that should be being read. I am blogging instead. Well anyway, one of the projects I had decided to undertake the winter before last was growing an herb garden. I can't really sympathize with plants and all the water they seem to require (because I am chronically dehydrated) but I wanted to try. So one day I was walking through the main building of the university when I saw one of their frequent sales. A special needs man had a woman helping him to sell plants he had reared, organically, himself. I felt like a Good Samaritan offering to take a plant off his hands. I took the most maintenance-free, cheapest plant the man had to offer and promised to take the best care of it. I toted the mint plant withme to class all day like a newborn baby and put it in a place of pride on my windowsill when I got home.

Well my window faces almost directly East. And I like to let the sun wake me up in the morning, so I leave my shade open. That plant shrivelled so quickly it must have been programmed for failure. I tried moving the poor thing out by the front door where there was a little bit of shade. My dogs found it to be delicious.

In the following weeks, what scares me is that I am not only trying to avoid outcomes such as these. Everything in my care must not only be kept alive and in working condition, but also must thrive so that the owners of said things will ask me to do the same sorts of things again. Now I need to go build myself up with confidence and other grown-up feelings. Which will be the subject of a future post.

Continue to the second part...