Give It Up Already

Through shear determination, I used to try my best to finish books that weren’t very good merely because I had started them. Despite the bland or stupid characters or the inane plot points that made me roll my eyes in annoyance, I hoped things would improve because I had started off so optimistic; the book had a good cover, it received positive reviews and the synopsis sounded intriguing, so I wanted to like it. And 50 pages in, I was still waiting for the book to get good. By the middle of the book I realized this book wasn’t going to get good. And by the end of the book I wondered, “Why did I just waste my time reading this stupid book?”

So now I believe in giving up. Reading for fun is supposed to be fun; it’s not supposed to be a chore to read. If a book doesn’t capture me in by page 50 (okay, sometimes it’s closer to 10), then I’ll put it down and start a new book, because I don’t really want to waste my time with a story that I’ll inevitably give “The Sigh of Disappointment” to. (You know the sigh. Everyone has one. It’s that long drawn-out exhale sigh dripping with disappointment and perhaps laced with a dose of irritation or resignation. I use it often when I’m unimpressed with something—and a bad book brings it out…a lot.)

Gone are the days where I plow through a bad book in the hopes that it somehow gets better—because it doesn’t. It’s just an exercise in torturing yourself, and then all I’m left with is the bitter aftertaste of successfully finishing something that wasn’t worth finishing to begin with. There are so many other books out there. Better books. As soon as I realize a book isn’t for me, I have no qualms about giving it up. The sooner I can get rid of it the better, so I can replace it with (hopefully) a better book.  

DIY: Used Calendar Placemat

I’m a packrat, and I’ll keep old wall calendars in the hopes that I'll use them in some way. With twelve months and twelve different images, I decided to use those calendar images as placemats. The placemats are easy to make, disposable and adds a nice pop of color to the table.

So What Do You Want to Do Now?

Sometimes it drives me nuts when I'm in a group of people (whether in person or via email) and it takes forever to make a simple decision; people hem and haw because they don't want to step on anyone's toes or they just don't really care one way or another. This happens more frequently than I would like, where somehow it becomes a lengthy discussion about the various options of what to eat or where to go, and it seems to take more effort to make a decision than it would to actually do the suggested activity and be done with it.

I've lost countless hours to the innocuous question, "So what do you want to do now?" that is often followed by the most unhelpful answer possible, "I don't know, what do you want to do?" The vicious cycle of indecisiveness continuing on endlessly, where neither party wants to cave and make a solid decision. And often as a result, nothing is accomplished.

There are times when I can't take the long drawn out decision-making (or lack there-of) process, so I may narrow things down to a couple of options in the hopes that someone will have a preference (and this usually does help move things along). However, if my suggestions still don't inspire a decision then I may just make the decision myself, because once you make a decision, then suddenly someone inevitably has an opinion about it. [Sigh.]

Thank-You Slow Decline

I had that moment of panic when I realized my computer was dying. It all came to a head when the spinning beach ball of death was looming ominously and I was unable to Force Quit applications normally. So I ended up manually turning off my computer, and when I tried starting it up again I got a flashing folder with a question mark on it instead of the normal Apple icon. [Pause.] Not a good sign. So I turned off my computer to let it rest and cursed myself about the files I had yet to back up. Suddenly I was quite religious, praying that my computer would let me access it one last time so I could transfer my files to an external hard drive. Luckily, my computer wasn’t quite dead yet (just mostly dead, like in The Princess Bride.)

Eventually I was able to gain access to my computer and transfer (although slowly) files that I definitely wanted to keep. I quickly came to the conclusion that a new computer was necessary, but I wanted to wait until the weekend to get one since I knew it would take some time to set everything up. So for the couple of days I still used my old computer, I treated it with kid gloves. I was paranoid of having it crash on me, so I did my best not to overwork it; I would only open one application at a time, and every two hours of work I did on my computer equated to two hours of it being off so it could rest. It made for some ineffective work methods, but at least my computer didn’t crash. [Half-hearted: yay.]

While my dying computer brought me much stress, I was grateful for its slow decline. If it would have just died suddenly, then I would have lost work that I would have had to then redo (which would have irritated me greatly). So if it had to die (as all things must eventually), I’m glad it was a long drawn out death because it was just much more convenient for me.

More is Just More

As a kid, more was always better. More ice cream. More cartoons. More toys. More everything. This extended to anything visual as well. More detailed and floral a china pattern, the better. More lace and frills on a dress, the better. More pretty colors in a drawing, the better. I was all about a highly intricate, fancy and feminine style. (I’m sure I would have been a fan of anything Baroque had I known what that was as a child.)

I’m not exactly sure when things changed, but they did. I stopped being drawn to things that were grand and elaborate and instead was drawn to its antithesis; I began to like the beautifully simple. Whether it was architecture, furniture, dishware, clothing or design, less became more. I now swoon over clean lines, minimal colors and focused design with form and function working together effortlessly to create something that naturally draws the eye.

I think that’s the part that unconsciously won me over was the sense of effortlessness. I don’t want something that screams: “look at me!” and is blatant in its attempt to impress. It’s like when you meet someone (or I guess even watch someone on TV) and it’s just too much. They’re just trying too hard to be cool, or sexy, or smart, or nice or funny. And while it may not be entirely intentional, it can be exhausting to watch. My eyes want to rest; they don’t want to be assaulted by the overly done. [Pause.] There may be times when I appreciate the over-the-top and grand design that if done right, I think is beautiful—but overall it’s just not for me.