So was @SiDawson (who can be found being thought-provoking all over twitter as well as his blog.)
While procrastinating, Simon just happened to be reading procrastination blogs. And posting up the links on twitter. And they just happened to look pretty good from where I was sitting in procrastinator's corner and so I decided on joining him in this foolish viscous cycle of time wasting.
Which is how I came across this:
"When you procrastinate you lower your self esteem and send signals back to yourself that you are a ,well, a kinda lame and indecisive person."
I now feel the need to credit that one, little, slightly too realistic and painful sentence for the delightful amount of organisation and work that I've managed to do in one night.
To think all I needed was to be called 'kinda lame' by an faceless writer.
In summary, organisation, and being slightly near to being on top of your work, feels really good.
Today was the wettest day where I live in nine years. Which is good, because we've been in a drought for probably even longer than that. Apart from that fact though, I had a really hard time recognising today that the rain was not an evil force coming to destroy precious moments of my life.
So I've compiled a list of things that would probably make me appreciate rain a more, which will make me hope for rain in the future.
Puddle-jumping
I cannot actually remembering ever jumping in a puddle for fun. Ever. Even as a kid, when I wasn't worried about wrecking my shoes and did not possess the forethought to not soak the hems of the pants that I'd have to wear all day, I didn't jump in puddles. I'm pretty sure if I had I would've gotten into trouble and I was pretty much a stickler for the rules as a wee one. This makes me rather sad and I feel like I've missed out on a pretty basic kid right of passage.
Next time it rains I will be jumping in a puddle; suede shoes, soggy pants, rebellion and all.
2. Kiss the Rain
Remember the Billie Myers song? Ever actually heard the Billie Myers song? I'm not sure if you would have, because I got it from my aunt, who had it on a Top 50 Summer '98 of Britain CD which she bought, appropriately, in England. I loved that song when I was younger, as in, eight years old. It seemed to hold so much passion and longing. He really seemed to really miss this girl. I mean, take a look at those lyrics.
Hello... Can you hear me? Am I getting through to you?
Hello... Is it late there? Is there laughter on the line? Are you sure you're there alone? 'Cause I'm trying to explain Something's wrong You just don't sound the same
Why don't you Why don't you Go outside Go outside
Kiss the rain Whenever you need me Kiss the rain Whenever I'm gone too long If your lips feel lonely and thirsty Kiss the rain And wait for the dawn Keep in mind We're under the same sky And the night's As empty for me as for you If you feel You can't wait till morning Kiss the rain Kiss the rain Kiss the rain
Hello... Do you miss me? I hear you say you do But not the way I'm missing you
What's new? How's the weather? Is it stormy where you are? You sound so close but it feels like you're so far Oh, would it mean anything If you knew What I'm left imagining In my mind, my mind? Would you go Would you go Kiss the rain
As you fall Over me Think of me Think of me Think of me Only me Kiss the rain Whenever you need me Kiss the rain Whenever I'm gone too long If your lips Feel hungry and tempted Kiss the rain And wait for the dawn Keep in mind We're under the same sky And the night's As empty for me as for you If you feel you can't wait till morning Kiss the rain Kiss the rain Kiss the rain Kiss the rain
(Kiss the rain) (Kiss the rain) (Kiss the rain)
Hello... Can you hear me? Can you hear me? Can you hear me?
Ok. So their slightly stalkerish. Whatever. I'm into that.
But you know what I'm not into? What absolutely changed my love of the song forever? The fact that Billie Myers is A GIRL. This destroyed me for awhile when I rediscovered the song, at about age 14, complete with album cover picturing FEMALE Billie. A part of my world shifted, and I can still recall the moment when I realised that the picture I had of one of my favourite songs, was in fact, completely fucked. It was a freaking woman singing that stalkerish, needy crap.
Sometimes, I still listen to the song, and pretend that Billie is a man.
Today they played Kiss the Rain at my gym, albeit an upbeat techno version in which the singer sounded very much, undeniably female. And I remembered my childhood dreams of how when I was an adult (now) someone would miss me, call me, and kiss the rain.
One day, when I've met someone worthwhile of sharing lame childhood pre-fantasies with, I'm going to wait till it rains, call them, advise them that we are in fact standing under the same downpour, go outside and make out with the elements.
3. Kiss in the Rain
Not to be confused with Rain Things no. 2, this step is much less weird, as I'll get to actually get onto an actual other person, no. 3 is one of the biggest romantic gestures which I have massive reserves about.
I dislike water. I don't like being cold and I have a ridiculous circulation system which does a crap job of heating my body. So I don't deal well with it either. Add water to coldness and you get an idea of my hell; being outside in the rain.
Also, I don't know if people have noticed this over the years or not, but rain makes people ugly. Mostly. Most people don't look as good when wet, miserable, shivering and streaky. Though some can pull it off*. Am I going to believe that what could be the single most romantic gesture ever to make it's way into my life is going to do so when I'm looking really foul? I doubt it.
This aside, if a guy is willing to go for a snog session in the pouring rain (and yes, Disney says that for a proper kiss in the rain the rain must be falling, heavily) then he's probably not just in it for the looks.
Resolution no. 3: One day, I will be a part of a bonafide kiss in the rain. And it'll be awesome.
Other things to look forward to doing in the rain: working from home and not having to go out in it, buying a collection of colourful umbrellas to go with my pink panda one, collecting rain water from the sky and drinking it immediately, sleeping in to the sound of rain on a day off, baking rain food,
So yeah. Rain. It's got possibilities I guess. Which is good, as they're predicting it here until next week.
Today I picked a few flowers from our garden to put around the place and make it all a bit more lively. When we first moved here, my mother planted a whole garden bed in purple and white flowering plants, though as you can see, a few rogue pink ones pop up from time to time.
The large white and pink flowers in the middle are Gardenias, and at the moment they are filling my room with their lovely, sweet, heavy scent. As I sit studying I keep smelling them and it's made me think that I don't appreciate and use my sense of smell nearly enough. This week, I'm going to smell everything I can and really give my nose a workout.
Scent can be a really powerful and defining factor about many things in life. Just think about it, if a food doesn't smell good, we're likely to not go there. The same is true for people, places, objects, and just about anything really. A nasty odor makes for a lonely life.
Although, there's probably good reason to not go too psycho about scent:
"I want my erotic nose brain removed. My emegulata. The organ deep inside the nasal cavity, which processes scent, which then connects to memory; I'd like it extracted... Well let me see if I can explain this. I had a boyfriend, OK? And he smelled really, really good. Like soap and fresh laundry and vanilla. And every time I smell any of those smells, I'm reminded of my boyfriend and how happy we were before he dumped me for no good reason and I get very sad and then I get angry and before I know it I am in the throws of an all out emotional breakdown and so I was just thinking, Dr. Klein, if I could short circuit my nose somehow, I might actually have a chance of living a semi-normal life someday."
At least, if nothing else, my nose is set to have a very interesting week.
To My Dear Friend for Whom I am About to Sacrifice My Dignity and Extremities,
First, let me say, I am very much looking forward to attending your soiree this evening and I have already purchased both costume and condiments to make the event pleasurable for you.
I do, however, have some requests which, I am quite sure, you would have by yourself fulfilled, though I thought I would just remind you. I ask you, please display appropriate gratitude for the costume which I shall don for your party. It is suitably themed to match your celebration and as such is a) quite brief and b) lacking in warmth.
As you know, your party both involves staying outdoors all night and many guests with whom I am not acquainted. However, I am most willing to risk both hypothermia and loss of self respect so as to make your special night live up to your expectations. But please, say thanks. I probably won't be the same girl after tonight for a very, very long time. I may lose my fingers, toes and ears. And I might not be able to look myself in the eye for quite awhile.
Although, as I say, I'm sure you'll recognise all of this and shall show this in an outpouring of thanks when I arrive, anyway.
Many thanks for in response to your expected gratitude,
BuzzChildxx
Tonight I'm going to my friend's 'coming out' party. Although he's been out and proud and away from the closet for some time now, it's still a big deal for him and we're all going in costume to celebrate. You probably got the costume part from the letter. I'm going as Columbia from The Rocky Horror Picture Show which I hope you've seen, who looks like this in the film
and this in one of the stage shows.
My costume won't be quite as sparkly unfortunately, but I'm a little bit excited nonetheless. I may in fact upload photos of the night later on.
Anyway, I wasn't actually so concerned about my costume until I demonstrated it for my mother this morning (who absolutely loves the movie) who was a little bit shocked at the brevity of....well...everything. You should know that it takes a bit to shock my mum. And then she mentioned the weather.
So now I'm a little scared. Though I'm going to still wear the outfit because I absolutely hate people who show up to themed parties out of theme. That is just lazy. And ultimate lame.
So, wish me luck, first I'm going to a show at uni, with the costume hidden under a long jacket, so that will be interesting as well.
One of my favourite questions and thoughts to ponder at the moment: what would the inside of your mind look like if it was a room?
Somewhere cosy?
Some images from a movie which explores this kind of thing, The Science of Sleep. Love love Michael Gondry.
(Notice that he's blue screening himself and his girlfriend onto the television above and the records all over the ground below. It's a genius movie.) Catherine Campbell is an exquisite artist. This is the picture on my calendar for May; very appropriate. The Virgin Suicides, by Jefferey Eugenides, is easily one of the most beautiful books I've read and Sofia Coppola, one of my favourite directors, succeeds in translating this beauty into film. The girl's bedrooms in the film are what I would like to hope a room of my mind might look like.
The classroom is full of your peers, your friends, the people you get drunk with on weekends. The lecturer is asking questions of students; testing whether anybody actually did the required readings. You did the readings. In fact you did extra reading and you hired a documentary on the subject; you love this stuff. You know the teacher's going to ask you because you know that they know that you know the answers. You know it and you're shit scared. You consider slipping out to the bathroom but don't want to draw attention to yourself. Even before the lecturer calls your name, you can feel the bright red tide of embarrassment creeping up your neck, above your collar and into your face.
I hate answering questions in class. Hate it. I always have. Especially, and weirdly, when I'm sure that I know the answers. I'm not really shy and I don't even have too many issues talking in front of large crowds, but when it comes to stating my opinion on matters that are important to me, I encounter problems. Thankfully for me, and sadly for society, everywhere I look I seem to see other people having the same issue.
One friend told me that the trouble for her was that she didn't think she could articulate her thoughts in a way that would make her sound intelligent, whereas everybody else seemed to be able to speak just fine. Another lady explained that she would regularly speak out in class but then immediately regret it and constantly replay her words in her mind, picking apart the flaws in what she'd said and how she'd said it. My sister has developed a complex system of body language and seating position so as to lessen the chances of being called upon in class.
So why are we all so afraid to speak up? Most people seem to give three reasons. They believe they aren't intelligent enough to have a right to an opinion, they don't want to be judged or they don't want to offend others.
True, it's often best to keep your mouth shut if you're not up on the subject at hand, but if you're involved in a conversation of which the subject matter is known or important to you, engaging in discussion is the best way to develop, strengthen and share your ideas and opinions.
As for being judged; so much of what we say is created through our body language and tone of voice. A completely false statement can be made utterly believable if said with conviction. If you don't feel courageous enough to say what you think; fake it till you make it.
I have always had a large issue with tactfulness and the growing lack of it. I dread offending people and, much like my friend, will continually screen things I've said, hoping that my words aren't being misconstrued as insults. When it comes to conversation, if I know my opinion will clash with somebody else's, I'll keep my mouth shut in order to keep the peace. I forget that most people enjoy a hearty conversation and that we're all capable of defending our own views and shut myself down, keeping my input to myself.
To the short end of a long story, I wanted to show you this video. Watch it and share it around. And if you can work out what the bottom of his shirt says, then extra credit points for you.
I don't want to grow up in a generation that is so caught up in self-consciousness and the need to please that we lose the art of conversation and debate.
If Reality were a person they would be the bitter, cynical, twisted one who sat at the back of the class reminding everyone that magic can't happen. Reality's a bitch.
Today Reality came and hit me with a with a thirty-four item long to-do list. I dislike Reality, generally.
But sometimes, occasionally, Reality can be a pretty sweet thing. You may, perhaps, realise that you're really, very good at your job and that people appreciate what you're doing. You also may come home to a quiet, empty house, find that someone's left you dinner pre-cooked in the fridge, pick fresh salad leaves from your garden, put on your new favourite album and dance like a member of the Bee Gee's. Perhaps Hamish Blake will happen to be on TV tonight, and you'll realise you've had a crush on him for the past five years, making him possibly your longest romantic relationship (because we all know a relationship can be one-sided). And possibly you'll find a half-full bottle of free, expensive wine in the fridge which noone has claimed for their own, clamouring for you to drink up.
Or, if you're me, you'll encounter all these joys at once. And you'll also buy an amazing new and beautiful film for a fantastically bargain price on your break from work and somehow you'll realise that in the end, Reality isn't such a bad place to be sometimes.
Maybe, if Reality were a person, they'd actually be the shy little kid who sits in the middle of the classroom, next to the window, who doesn't speak up much but wishes the others would notice them a little more, because they think they had something pretty unique for show and tell.
Yeah. Wine makes for soppy blog posts. Enjoy
BuzzChildxx
Ps. I've completely lost my 34 item to-do list. I have no idea where it is, but taking it as a sign to stop work and enjoy the here and now. I like my Reality.
1. Overt displays of self-interest/self-adoration. Avoid these. They are the social plague. If you are having trouble with this remember: You are the most important person in your life. Nobody else's. They've all got themselves to worry about. So shut up.
2. Don't bore other people. Simple in essence yet seemingly difficult in practice. There are warning signs to watch for that will let you know when you're company are falling into a boredom coma. If you find yourself repeatedly asking your company if you are being boring then 99% of the time you are.
3. Wash. No one wants to be asphyxiated by your mere presence. It's not a pleasant way to die.
4. Remember people's names. Again, sounds simple but difficult to implement. Try repeating people's names a couple of times during conversation when you first meet them. I'm terrible at this and it's a wonder that I've not been outcast already.
5. Don't complain. Negativity repels the optimistic, happy people that most of us generally aim to be chummy with. It also attracts other no-hopers to you who want to leech of your bad vibes. Before you know it you've been sucked in to a clique of miserable mopers watching the grass grow greener on the optimists' side. These groups are very difficult to escape.
6. Be brave. Don't be afraid to show your true colours to your friends and dance in the supermarket. Or anywhere else. They'll feel empowered by your freedom and love you for it.
7. Don't get stuck in a rut. We often get to the point in our lives where everything is compartmentalised, even people. We'll have a 'coffee friend' or a 'drinking buddy' and never will we push the boundaries of that relationship. Every so often, suggest that you do something different; go feed ducks at a lake, take a drive to your favourite look out or visit all the stores in your town that sell candy trying out all the tester plates. Shake it up.
8. Be nice. The most over-cliched and the most important step of all. Offer to help with no need of a return favour. Genuinely listen to other people and respond with enthusiasm. When someone you know does/says/wears something fantastic don't just notice it; tell them. And try to suspend your judgement of others for at least five minutes when you first meet them; give people a chance to impress you.
I am by no means perfect at any of these points. In fact, I can be remarkably terrible at all of them. We all can be. But you can only score points by trying. We all want friends, right?
Ok. So I'm going to acknowledge this right here and now; I'm a fairly lame blogger. This is the second blog I've started, the first one died a short and particularly boring death, and as can be seen from the post dates, I don't do much blogging here either.
I've reached a crossroads in the road of blog-life this week and I've been trying to decide whether or not to continue writing here or to give up and let Irresistible Tendencies die altogether.
And so, hopefully to the delight of my readership (*cough* one occasional reader *cough*), I've decided to give blogging one more go. There are, however, going to be substantial reasons behind it this time; focus, time and effort will be put into the blog and I'm going to have a go at publicizing myself a little more and getting a few more readers. I'm going to pick a more clear and engaging format than writing posts about the insignificant and meagerly humorous things I do and create an overriding theme to the posts.
To challenge myself into seeing just how well and how much I want to do this, I'm going to aim to post every day for the month of May.
