2013, You Say?

Well, that last year sort of flew right on by, didn’t it?  It seriously feels like it was only a couple weeks ago that I was dressing up for Halloween and regretting painting my nails black and green because I had a job interview all of a sudden.  But now it’s 2013, and everyone is doing the resolution thing, and I’m contemplating jumping on that bandwagon.

Rather than resolutions, I’m going to try to have some goals.  Resolutions fail because people generally don’t have a plan.  Goals require planning and steps and follow through.  Since I have a lot of things I want to accomplish, my “resolution” is to plan my goals this year.



Since I consider this poster (and the video from which it sprang) highly instrumental in putting me on the path to changing my life, I’m going to use it here as a reminder of what I can accomplish this year if I just freaking do it.  I unofficially gave last year the theme of “fearless” about halfway through the year.  I’m going to continue with that and officially make 2013 the year of being fearless.  And that’s goal one.

What will being fearless look like?  Well, maybe it will be as crazy as sky diving.  One friend in particular will be thrilled if that’s the case. I think it definitely needs to include attempting the ropes course at the Mall of America (and yes, I understand it’s intended for kids to be able to participate).  It might involved doing karaoke.  Fearless might look like speaking up when I need to speak up and going for things at work that will help move me forward.

Goal two is to get things organized.  This is going to be a slightly more involved goal.  I’ll need to sit down and go through my closets (clothes and fabric).  I’ll need to find storage solutions and get rid of things.  I will need to pare down room by room.

Goal three is to relearn how to eat.  2012 was a year of convenience.  I went out to grocery shop yesterday and realized I no longer remembered how to plan meals or how to eat healthy.  Ideally I’d like to lose weight, but first I need to learn how to eat again.  I think goal two will take the most man hours, but goal three is going to take the most planning and educating.  If I want to be successful and not rely on convenience, I’m going to need to have a detailed list of recipes and snacks so I don’t need to flounder.

Goal four feels like it should take a back burner to goal two, but I also think this one is important toward my sanity just as much as getting organized.  Goal four is to create.  It’s sad when someone needs to schedule in time for fun, but it feels as if we often don’t leave ourselves much choice.  So my goal is to work on the backlog of ideas–things I’ve wanted to make for years and just never have.  And in some ways, this will help with goal two.  How much fabric do I have laying around?  How much better would it be to see that fabric get turned into something awesome, something that I’ve wanted for a long time?

Four goals is probably ambitious, but I think each has a different level of difficulty and a different level of conscious involvement needed.  And this is really just a brief overview of each goal.  Ideally, I will plan each of these out more than what I’ve just said here–two through four, anyway, goal one is a little more spontaneous.  So in this I seek your support–if you have any suggestions toward achieving these goals, feel free to leave a comment.  If you have any goals of your own that you’re attempting, share those puppies as well.


“Pics or it Didn’t Happen”

That’s what my sister said when I cleaned out my truck.

My truck has been a point of shame for the last five years.  I moved and some stuff never moved out of my truck.  Some stuff was there before I moved.  A lot of stuff was added after I moved.  It became a running joke, but one that deep down was more embarrassing than funny.

One thing I can say is that it never got so bad that a window was covered.

The toilet paper was in there less than a week.  It wasn’t toilet paper that I “needed”; rather, Rocketdog bought it, decided her toilet didn’t like it, and I bought her kind to trade with her.  Moving on.

An hour, two trash bags, one load of laundry (a bathrobe, snow pants, a dress, a tshirt, and sundry socks and arm warmers), and a couple arm loads later I had this:

I know, right?  Now I just gotta find a home for all the stuff I brought inside (which is, truthfully, the reason I put it off as long as I did). 😦



You guys all remember this, right?  It was like the beginning of the end of my sanity in regards to cleaning. Today I called in recruits–someone who was willing to touch every single thing I owned and say “What’s this?  Do we need this?  Where do we put this?”  Someone who flat out declared that this is going here, and that’s where you’re going to keep putting it.  And I’m happy to report that there is a world of difference now:




I still have a long way to go, but I can actually get to my stuff.  And I’ve learned that I probably never need to purchase another zipper or snap again.  Ever.  You know those big boxes that copy paper comes in?  I have an ENTIRE box filled with “fasteners”.  Which I think endlessly amused my buddy.

I still need to go through all my fabric and separate the wheat from the chaff.  I need to organize said fasteners (as a copy paper box isn’t really the best solution).  I need to find a home for all the stuff that landed in the “to go upstairs” boxes.  I need to weed out the UFO box that I promised to weed out like two months ago.

But first I have a couple costumes I need to make.  I’ll be sharing more on those later 🙂

The Psychology of Cleaning

Lately I’ve been trying to wrap my head around why I can gleefully jump into cleaning up this mess:

Yet this sends me into the fetal position:


As best I can figure it’s two-fold… first, it’s not my stuff. I have no attachment to the items, and other than the environmental aspect, I have no problem throwing it all away.

Second, and probably more importantly, the items in that mezzanine have no weight on my self worth. I look at that pile and all I can see are my shortcomings. The first mess isn’t in the slightest bit my doing. The second mess is 100% my fault. I suck at policing myself. I buy too much stuff. I have a crapload of stuff I will likely never use. The list goes on and on.

I kid you not, every time I do a real big clean, I end up crying. The messes i accumulate make me feel like a giant failure. I don’t feel better once it’s clean either. There’s always another mess lurking somewhere or one just waiting to be born.

On that note, don’t look in the back of my truck cab. Just sayin’. Yes, yes I should look into therapy…

Will Power

My first day back at work was incredibly painful.  I really enjoyed not working.  Or, rather, not working “for the man.”  Trust me, my vacation was filled with lots of hard work.

But that wasn’t the problem.  Being away from work meant being away from fabric.  And sales.  And what the hell everythingisonsaleandIwanttobuyitall.  *breathe*  Quilting cottons are 50% off and that never happens.  Clearance is also 50% off.

And I can’t buy anything.  Meh!  My sewing rooms makes me want to cry.  I’m not exaggerating.  I actually get teary-eyed when I think about tackling that mess.  The Hippy actually said to me, “If you start crying again, you’re fired.”  Seeing me so pathetic, a friendly coworker offered to bring her gay friend (her words) to whip my craft room into shape.  And I need it.

Good news: We have pants clothes hangers coming into work.  Which will be nice, because it will make more room in my drawers for all the skirts I’m going to make 😀

We haven’t had a good poll in awhile: