Recently I’ve been going through a shopping craze. And by that I mean, adding things to a shopping cart online and not going through with it after reading reviews from the BBB. I mean browsing through hundreds of pictures of dresses and inspiration. I mean sending pictures to my friends and hubby and asking them what they think. I mean wondering what my skin tone is, whether it’s warm yellow and cool yellow. It’s UGH time consuming. Stop being so glamorous, fashion bloggers!
This is going to be a lot of rambling, and not in the least bit interesting, just warning you.
So I recently bought a bag from ThredUp because my bag finally lost its magnetic clasp to the wind somewhere at the school I work for. Of course it did. I’m so glad I have a work hoodie that I wear everyday because it’s been a few weeks and it already has highlighter and who knows what else all over it. Anyway, back to the purse. So I’m kind of excited cause I got a great deal on it, and it should be in “excellent” condition even though it’s secondhand. But here’s the thing, I’m also worried people will judge me for the brand (Am I the judgmental one? Oh dear) and think I spent hundreds of dollars on a purse. So there I was, weighing these things, debating whether I should get a purse. UGH. BUT I also read that the quality is actually better with these expensive branded bags, and they can last you a long time, versus my bags my relatives get me from Asia which start shedding fabric chips after a year or so. (I love you Mom and Auntie and all the bags you’ve ever gotten me I promise!) The thing is, if I get something that lasts, that means I’m also kind of stuck with it for awhile. This could be either a good or bad thing. A day or so later, I found another purse that looked really cute, and I started to regret that I didn’t wait. I know, the drama.
Next up in life as an adult– need to identify the bug that has been biting me in my sleep. I’m so scared! And looking up answers on the internet makes it worse because there are so many gross pictures.
Pretty pictures of tulips instead of bugs found here.
Today’s dinner was a messy conglomeration of half defrosted chicken that baked in the oven for so long and was still pink (but safe to eat, we found out) and salad. There was rice too, but we forgot about it. Life has been tricky in the cooking department. Meal planning is still not my forte, I mean, preference. I mean I think about meal planning, and I just don’t want to do it. The idea of making food that I possibly wanted to eat a few days ago but may not want to eat the day of seems miserable. Is it more miserable than finding out we spent too much money on pho and In-N-Out because we didn’t feel like eating dumplings that night, and there was nothing planned? I’m not sure.
I haven’t balanced last month’s money ins and outs yet. Being grown up is hard sometimes. As a teen, I hoped to be grown up by 18. But when 18 rolled around, I felt quite juvenile. Now, I’m a lot older than 18, and if I consider my age and what I thought I would accomplish by now for too long, well, it can be discouraging. Often times, I look for inspiration to start something new. Guidance of some sort. Tips, rules, someone’s past experiences and knowledge, anything I can hang onto. It’s nice that we live in the age of Internet now, where so much information is readily available. But I think for me, sometimes it results in analysis paralysis and a perfectionism that might not have been as common in a world less connected.
I’m pooped. Goodnight.
I am awkward, especially when I’m sick and make all kinds of mistakes without even knowing it. I’m trying not to beat myself up over it, but it still feels like it deserves its own post. Awkward. This word is awkwardness itself. What is “awkward”? I’m saying from a purely philosophical and psychological standpoint, not from a practical standpoint. I want to know. What defines it? There are lots of studies on love, anger, depression, happiness, fear, sympathy. But what about awkwardness? Are there any studies on what gets defined as “awkward”, why we feel awkward, and where it comes from? That would be, well, awkward. Or cool. Or both, I can’t decide.
What else? I went to IKEA with R today. The thing about IKEA is. I love it– cheap prices, cute design, lingonberry and Swedish meatballs, a well of inspiration, an abundance of small things. And I hate it– you must go through the marketplace to get to the checkout, no ifs, ands, or buts. It guarantees that by the end of any visit there, I will want food. And that is exactly what happened. You tricksters, you. I have to give it to those Swedes, they know how to make the most of a design, from the tiny one egg frying pan that I have come to respect, to their entire showroom and warehouse experience. The claustrophobic won’t like it, but bravo, nonetheless.
Most of us think of “inspiration” as a positive phrase, but I grew up hearing it with a more negative connotation, that “inspiration”, was only that, inspiration. A puff of air, and then, no more.
Of course this was within a spiritual context. Sometimes though, inspiration is just what I need to get going on a project. Today, it involved talking to dear C who shared with me some food blogs per my request. This was after she inspired me to eat lunch and cut my grapefruit, a daunting task for someone who doesn’t like to eat grapefruit because of the work involved in peeling it. I know it sounds bad and lazy, but there it is, I don’t like getting my hands dirty. So I asked, “Do you know what the best way to cut a grapefruit is?” and C replied that she did not, she did not particularly like grapefruits very much. So I found an article someone had wrote, with good, clear, photos. The cutting option proved to look simple enough and would land me with triangular shaped grapefruit pieces that I could eat with a fork alone, so I decided to try it. It worked pretty nicely, and the only regret I have is that the taste of the skin is still evident when you eat a grapefruit like that. I’m not entirely sure I will do it again because the slight bitterness tarnishes the sweetness of the grapefruit for me, but when I want to, now I have the option to. By the way, I love “How-To” guides and videos; they remind me of shows, entertainment pieces. So pretty pictures, videos, presentation, actually does make a difference to me. It turns what might appear to be a boring job into something of art, almost. A triangle here, a cylinder there. I know I’ve posted some rather negative items lately, ironically in my quest to rediscover certain hobbies, so I’ll leave you with one of C’s recommendations for me, a food blog with particularly pretty photos that I liked: