So my bloggy friend Sarah Von is one of the founders of the Secret Society of List Addicts. Proselytized neato-frito that I am, I LOVE this site. Today, Sarah posted her list of things that inevitably she will fail at. Here's mine, with retrospective commentary:
1. Accepting that not everything is as it should be (according to me). Although in many ways I'm a liberal thinker, I have decided that my domestic life's theme song is "Everything In Its Right Place" by Radiohead. It fits perfectly, not only in word but in the semi-eery music that suggests a certain level of insanity. Not to say that I'm insane, but insanely aggitated by things being left out like Paddy's Market. This song is so true of me, that to put in my Christmas stocking my mom got me not one but two fridge magnets referencing tidiness.
2. Driving to a new place without completely freaking out and subsequently making a wrong turn that I wouldn't have made if I spent less time freaking out and more time calmly following directions. I once found my way home from my friend Carrie's house (hi Carrie!) by estimating the appropriate turns based on the position of the sun. Pathetic, yes. But impressive, no?
3. Using my sewing machine without breaking/bending a freakin needle every freakin time. I threw a tantrum (and a few other things) two nights ago over this. Especially since I can't seem to finish the CHRISTMAS presents for my coworkers because of it.
4. Waiting for the bath to fill up all the way before getting in, even though I know it would be that much more satisfying to descend into a full, steaming tub. Does anyone read Vanity Fair? It features a Proust Questionnaire on the last page of every issue, and a frequent question is "What is your necessary extravagance?" Mine, in case anyone at Vanity Fair was wondering, is soaking in baths *nearly* every night. I consider this an extravagance because, since I learned how to spell "conservation" in third grade, I am a stickler for not wasting water.
5. Sweeping and vacuuming the floors daily. Which is essential with a baby, because he'll find the one minuscule piece of yarn you didn't get, eat it, then throw it up. Also, having a dog whose favorite route back to the house is through the only surviving mud puddle in the yard is torture on a floor-cleaning resolution. And I am literally this close --> <-- (do you see how close that is??) to ripping up our bedroom carpets and painting the floors white.
And a new addition...
6. Keeping in touch with old friends. This has gotten better since I started rocking the Facebook account, and since starting this blog. But still. I truly believe that if letter writing made a comeback as the world's primary form of correspondence, I would be a much better long-distance friend. Sure I could write letters now, but that's no fun if nobody writes letters back. Which is one of many reasons I so much enjoy being Tony's friend. On a related note, Noah's man-ish tendency toward emotional suppression actually spurs him to occasionally write me letters sharing his feelings, which I greatly enjoy.
On thinking about this some more, blogging is pretty much writing open letters to anyone who will read them and (hopefully) comment on them. Which is probably why I enjoy blogging and reading blogs so much. Though I've done this before, I'll do it again: I invite any and all of you who happen to read this to leave comments. I'm sending you a letter, in hopes that you'll respond. Keep the dream alive!