Procrastination, Popcorn and (Un)finished Projects

Let's get this out of the way right now--I am a procrastinator. However, I'm much better at it than I used to be. Over the years, I've developed a better sense of priorities, and a much better sense of how fast I can do a thing when I have absolutely no time. 

Priorities are important, because, let's be honest, a lot of the time, the stuff we procrastinate on is stuff we really don't want to do anyway, but somehow, we've convinced ourselves that we should do that thing for some reason. (I say we, but I mean, I. Unless you agree--then, yes, we do that--so glad you understand, my friend!)

The past few years, I got on a productivity kick. Read books like "Atomic Habits," and "Deep Work," and and a few others. Started using a project management app, Asana, to track my to do list, did weekly planning for my life every week. Same old crap I've done since middle school, just with a new style, and slightly more follow-through. This certainly helped me to not forget about things, which I think is in a whole different category from procrastination. Just because you decide to do something later, and then forget to do it later, doesn't mean you procrastinated. Later may have been the exact right time to do the thing, and then, unfortunately, I only remembered it much later. Maybe even too late. 

So, planning, organizing, time management, that helped to cut down on the forgotten tasks. However, a side effect of all this organization was that the true procrastinated tasks began to stand out in an embarrassed display, there on my app seven weeks past due. Three months past due. Six months past due. 

Yes, these were all arbitrary deadlines for my own self-imposed projects. True, I had supposedly evaluated these things a being important priorities that would improve multiple aspects of my life (certain personal financial planning tasks, and some big overhauls of our personal computers and other technology--pretty sure we are paying for more virus protection than we actually need and why are there so many devices clogging up our Wi-Fi?). In order to motivate myself, I'd reschedule these, and mark, "Rescheduled. And rescheduled 2X. Rescheduled 3X." By the time I got to 4X it was no longer motivating. And that was just the things I really thought I wanted to accomplish. Stuff like "Organize Recipes" and "Learn to play Numb Little Bug on the piano" didn't even make it to the level of getting rescheduled but just lingered in the more than one year overdue category.

Anyway, in the course of my 108 item purge, I found some overlooked Christmas chocolates, which I disposed of in the best possible way, and after eating them decided to clear out a thank you card and stamp to send my brother and his girlfriend, in appreciation for the chocolate, and out of a bit of guilt for not sending any Christmas card or gift their way. 

Before I could get it in the mailbox, I misplaced it, which sent me on a full-throttle mission to clean up all the paperwork that had accumulated over the holidays, and once that was done, and no card found, the only thing that was left was some loose printouts of various recipes, stuffed in among the cookbooks. 

You know procrastination is often just inertia, and the counterpart of inertia is momentum. Once I started, out came all the cookbooks, and the three ring binder, and the recipe box, and the new unused received free from my local Buy Nothing Facebook group, recipe-specific-binder. 

I pretty much figured "Organize Recipes" was never going to get checked off my project app. NEVER. I mean "Organize Family Photos," was a much more likely contender in my obviously misguided opinion of what is actually important to me. However, I powered through for, well, actual hours on a winter Saturday, and got the job done, just in time for tax season, when of course I will not have time to cook. 

However, I did organize all the little recipe books that came with various small appliances, and looking through one for a popcorn snack, realized that I had, in the pantry, an unused free sample of nutritional yeast I'd been meaning to try as a popcorn topping. So I made the "HERB Popcorn" recipe, which was DELICIOUS, and got one step closer to getting another item out of my pantry. 

Oh, and the thank you card was in my purse all along. 

108 Bells and a Breville Blender

I took a broken blender to my Dad's when we stopped to drop off the dog on the way to Nub's Nob for ski team weekend. "Does your Dad even expect or want this?" Matt asked, when I told him my plan. So I gave Dad a heads up, and he was, as expected, immediately enthusiastic about having a new project. I was not entirely optimistic, but I needed to get the blender out of the house, because the fact that my lovely shiny glorious Breville Blender had stopped working about 3 months after its 2 year warranty, and that the so-called "replacement part" was just a whole new pitcher and would cost almost as much as a brand new blender, was giving me rage anytime I saw or thought about that blender. Especially because maybe it was my own fault for putting parmesan cheese into the sauce too early in the blending process. And since I had to get rid of 108 items from my house before the end of the month, I packed it up and rang a bell.

But I have to go back to January 1st, to explain all this. On New Years Day, while sitting on my butt eating cookies, I decided to scroll an online article/list about New Years traditions from around the world, in hopes of finding inspiration for my New Year's Resolution, because the way my brain works, I have to have a gimmick to get motivated. About halfway down the list of 50 was a Japanese/Buddhist tradition of ringing 108 bells on New Year's Eve to clear out the old year. 

The article was quick to add this wasn't about clearing clutter from your house, but rather a symbolic release of negative desires. However, I was quick to think, "but why couldn't it be about clearing clutter?" And just like that, a plan was born. I decided to declutter, and ring a bell for each item I discarded, donated or used up. With an explanation to the family and a few loose ground rules (no credit for using ordinary items that would be replenished, but using up the "second string" items that have been hanging around forever, like the less favored scented deodorant, would qualify), the journey began. 

Yes, I literally rang a bell--part of the Christmas decor, a cutesy knick-knack my Mom had given me at some point--and tallied the items as I purged. I tried to give some attention to desires and loftier thoughts, although I have not yet studied Buddhism. Thoughts of appreciation for the things I have and of actually using the stuff I currently own, and if I can't use it, then why am I keeping it? The answer to that? It's probably genetic, and while I don't have the full hoarder impulse, I am reluctant to throw a "useful" thing away. 

But somehow, I managed to purge extra Christmas decorative items without too much guilt over whether or not it was a gift. A ludicrous quantity of pencils faced the chopping block--I don't even use pencils! I forced myself to discard any that had any type of flaw--tooth marks, too short, hard eraser, obvious cheapness, dumb cartoon characters--and cut the collection in half. I only allowed myself one bell for the pencils; taking credit for a whole dozen items felt a bit like cheating. 

By the time I decided to send the blender to Dad's house, I didn't have any expectation of a repair. I just wanted to ring another bell and get rid of that negative energy that boiled up in me every time I thought about that damned broken expensive blender. Matt asked, "How does this count as getting rid of clutter if you're just moving it to your dad's house?"

The obvious answer is that Dad's house is where clutter lives. It is where the lifetime hoard of "useful" items takes up residence. At the very least, one blender would simply disappear into the nether land of to-be-repaired TV's, speakers, tools, good-as-new-once-it's-cleaned pans, and perfectly good barn wood. Perhaps an attempt at fixing would be made. Perhaps it would join the graveyard of unfinished projects. But it would be out of my house. Not my clutter anymore. 

We returned from the long cold ski weekend with a rhubarb pie from the up north pie shop, to celebrate Dad's 88th birthday, with a dinner he made for us, of his favorite Aldi items. (Lentil soup and burnt-ends). Much to my surprise, he told me the blender was fixed. He explained about the gasket and some rubber shavings that rubbed off around the bearing, and once he cleaned it up and replaced the bearing it was just fine.

"Where did you get a bearing?" Matt asked. He still doesn't quite understand. 

"Out of a VCR" Dad said, as if this was the most normal thing ever. 

"You just had a VCR sitting around that had the same size bearing?" 

"Yeah."

Of course. Why wouldn't he? He doesn't purge his clutter and ring bells.

So now I have a working blender once again. Made a smoothie with some sad bananas and some frozen mango chunks that had been in the freezer for--ummm--years. It was delicious. 

Yes, I rang a bell for the mango. 

 

Annual Obligatory Update

Back in December I attended a Banquet for the first time in over a year and was reminded that this blog still exists. . . and more importantly, that other people exist and it's time to expand my world, armed with 3 shots of COVID-19 vaccine, and vague memories of how to function in society. 

Now we're off and running into a new year, and new coronavirus variants, with no lockdowns, no available same day (or even next day) testing, and my several orders of genuine or counterfeit KN95 masks (in black by request of family.) Immediate goal is to stay healthy until our postponed Italian Bagna Cauda celebration mid-January. 

Should be easier for me, since once again it is likely tax season will be off to a slow start pending IRS delays. However, since the kids refuse to explore my suggestion that they sneak off somewhere in the school to eat lunch in isolation, the possibility is strong that the virus will follow them home, especially the younger who is still ineligible for a booster vaccine. 

I have a few times a year that I get on an organizational and efficiency kick. Usually in May, after I've recovered from tax season, and September, a throwback to back-to-school habits, and then in January, with all the New Year Resolution energy. 

However, this year, my September organization went particularly well, as I started using a project management app to keep track of all my personal AND work goals and tasks (unbelievably, there are ELEVEN projects I'm actively pursuing in my life, in my apparent effort to cram several lifetimes into the one I've got.) 

Due to eleven categories of balls to drop, I'm trying to use more tools to improve my efficiency, including my early Christmas gift, a smart watch. The initial goal was to just be able to unobtrusively read text messages from my kids while working with clients, but it is also a fitness watch. I started using it early to test because I've gotten burned before by delaying use of a new purchase, and then finding out too late that I'm dissatisfied. However, I'm very satisfied that my smart watch is also a fitness watch, which really helps me to stay on top of my Health and Fitness project. 

My point with all of this is that, I've come into the New Year without my customary lull of not following through on my great September plans. Well, almost--once again all the fall gardening tasks that I listed in my Gardening project remain incomplete, thanks to getting very sick with "not covid, just a cold and subsequent ear and sinus infection" that knocked me out during the peak fall clean-up weeks in October. I did absolutely nothing, even when I put out the outdoor Christmas decorations. Finally, the day after Christmas, I put all the flower pots, with dead plants that I had intended to baby through the winter, into the garage, and checked everything as complete from my fall gardening list. (Project management app tracks tasks as complete or incomplete. There is no category for not complete, too late now, never gonna do it, stop nagging me already.) 

Anyway, I've started off the New Year and my first writers chat night, by writing this post, my time is up, see ya next year, most likely. (Blogging is not one of my eleven projects, although writing is.)

Running "Me" like a business.

Not sure this is a new years resolution, or just a rant, but I'm increasingly curious about what it would look like if I began responding in kind to every obnoxious business practice that plagues us in modern times. A few examples: 

Let's start with the ubiquitous "Terms and Conditions." I think it's high time I develop some terms and conditions for anyone who would like my business. I would include provisions about per-minute charges for wasting my time on hold, and a mandatory inconvenience charge if I need to pursue a refund because the product is defective or unsatisfactory. 

Another annoying time waster is the retail companies who are constantly hitting you up to donate a little extra something-something every time you make a POS purchase. Time for me to set up my own non-profit organization, the "Helping My Kids Buy Stuff Foundation." When CVS asks me if I'd like to donate to whatever random fund, I will whip out my little envelope and brochure, and ask the manager, if I can count on CVS for a corporate donation to HMKBSF. A worthy cause! 

Shall we move to the lovely Multi Level Marketing companies? I love how these companies enlist the services of my friends and neighbors to use every sneaky approach to ply their wares. I'll be setting up a Paetron account so next time I get invited to "Sally's Super Purse Pals," I can quickly reply and invite Sally to join, "Maria's Pithy Insults Club." Sick burns for a small monthly fee OR custom ordered insults to fit any jerk or occasion. 

Anyway, that's my business plan for monetizing my life. More to come, I'm sure! 

End of Summer

 I don't have time to write here about everything we did over the summer, so I'm not even going to try. My objective today is figuring out if my A-Z Priorities and Procrastination list is going to work for me. So far today, I've walked dog (with son), scheduled my tax classes for Oct and Nov (this took too long just to set up), some laundry progress, watering plants, soc. media. and made lunch. I am now holed up in a dark room (due to apparently irritating my eye by gardening for hours yesterday after eye appt. dialation. (I planted radishes, carrots, kale, rocket and peas for hopeful fall harvest--although i know it is a little late.) 

Anyway, my objective now is to focus on 1 hour of writing. (and maybe a little extra). 

Here's the issue, with these daily priorities--I'm trying to make sure I do the things I love and need to do, and not let my time get frittered away on unimportant stuff. So I'm trying to block out some writing time every day, but not let everything else slide. However, this is at odds with my preferential way of working, which is to work in projects or blocks, and spend a whole day or two focused on one thing. However, the burnout in between and the somewhat random focus on these projects is leaving a whole lot on the back burner. Also, I should not have abandoned to-do lists, 

The U-verse internet has just dropped again. This continues to be a problem and when my online classes, and kids online classes have started, we need to have a reliable connection. 

The other issue with priorities and lists is that they can sometimes get in the way of spontaneity and joy, and, you know, just plain old wasting time. They are also getting in the way of my writing, because I have this fear that if I start writing, I will either A. waste time staring at screen and not get much done, or B. enjoy myself, find a productive groove, and then spend too much time, get behind on other things, and not write again for a week. 

Both these are just excuses. Time to get to work writing. I can always make a to-do list in one hour from now. 

May be almost over

Well, I missed writing here the whole month of May, and I'm not going to reprise everything I did the past 24 or so days. I'll just focus on what I did today, and maybe touch on a few other topics if they come up.

The main accomplishment of today was more gardening. I pulled off most of the plastic covers, and planted a few more sections of the square foot garden. Replanted all the peas, because only two or three plants came up. I've draped some plastic over them now, hope it keeps the birds out, or whatever has been disappearing my pea seeds. Ooh, need to do the same with the beans I planted today, right now. Okay, that's done, and hopefully they haven't yet been robbed by a bird.

Today's sowing was beans, more carrots and radishes, some more lettuce and green onion, and dill. Tried to transplant a couple of turnips into spots that got robbed. They wilted quickly, so not sure if they will take. I still need to complete all the "construction" including deeper boxes for potatoes, poles and fencing for green beans, cucumbers and zucchini and some type of angle ramp for the zucchini to climb towards the upright. Need to string up the pea climbers too.

Watered a bunch of stuff including the annuals, red white and blue flowers I planted in the expanded flower garden area. Flowers look good right now with creeping phlox in full bloom, and irises and peonies (which I split) starting to bud. Looks like dianthus is coming up again, but there are still gaps and holes (literally) in the garden. Lots of same plants I've been splitting, and missing all the things that didn't survive the weather or the animal. Columbine--gone. Yarrow--gone.  Shasta Daisies--gone, Black-eyed Susan, gone before it even started. Irish moss--made it for a while, and then weather took it. The damn woodchuck eats all this stuff. I've surrounded the annuals with two layers of fencing right now, which means of course, they they don't look as nice as they should.

It was blazing hot today, so I probably worked slower than I could have. Back inside, I showered and then cleaned the shower as the mildew went crazy in the heat and while we were gone to the cottage for the weekend.

I do need to make myself an actual to-do list now, for the new few days, and so, goodnight.

Missed May 1st

Trying to do a little bit more writing of what I have accomplished. However, actually accomplishing things takes time, and leaves less time for writing. Yesterday was Friday. I spent the morning researching a compensation issue regarding work, and dealing with personal finances, and then I did a big cleanup in the flower garden area. Still need to dig out the encroaching lilies of the valley. This took most of the afternoon, and was uneventful other than when I disturbed a hibernating toad and bee.

Helped Sarah, who wanted to make "Froggy Bread," so we had rolls and bread with our grilled chicken dinner. After dinner Matt and I prepped the grid for the square foot garden. Then we did a fire in the firepit and had lil smokies, popcorn and marshmallows and lots of deep and frivolous talk with the kids, and stayed up so late I didn't even read before bed.

Today, I did a little more financial planning work in the morning, and then I planted the first round of seeds, lettuce, scallions, brussels sprouts (fingers crossed for better results this year), kale and snap peas (fingers crossed that something doesn't eat these seeds). Labeled everything, covered up the empty spots so they don't get festooned with tree buds, and transplanted half a peony and planted an Easter lily.

Tried using up some of my chive pesto in stuffed mushrooms for dinner. Used very little pesto and ended up with way too much cheese filling, so I had to make a whole plate of hors d oeuvres, which were nice, but the kids did not like. Used the mushroom stems to make mushroom rice, and a grilled pork tenderloin. Strawberries. And Sarah made banana bread for dessert/snack. Once again, a filling day, food-wise. Didn't feel like a lot was accomplished, but Matt brought up all the patio furniture, Sarah cleaned the patio and table, and Robbie did his black belt test via zoom video chat.

The mundane household tasks seem to be expanding to fill the available time, and I definitely do NOT like that. Somehow need to communicate some kind of urgency. Of course kids do not experience this feeling at all, and in fact are experts at finding "something else" they must do, whenever a mundane household task is brought to their attention.

Anyway, we finished watching Ozark tonight, and might try to read some more before bed. At some point, maybe tomorrow, I need to test my replacement mixer. But this is supposed to be for what I HAVE done, not a to-do list. However, without actively working on a to-do list, I seem to lose track of all the minor things to do, like sorting the mail and putting away clutter, and why do these minor things always seem to add up to so much time?

Definitely Productive at Wasting Time

Ended up down a rabbit hole today planning a summer activity series that I'm sure my family will mock until they don't. Like anything that I start to obsess over, I spent basically the whole morning on it.

The chore chart has yet to make an appearance in the household, because I just cannot even with the teen derision that will greet it. But I am overwhelmingly starting to feel distressed at the idea that we are just going to fritter away our days, with nothing productive accomplished, and nothing memorable to look back on. 

Not that cleaning the kitchen ceiling is memorable, but it does need to be done. 

Anyway, I cooked some lunch, took a walk with dog and son, called my dad (his friend broke her hip), decided it was time to panic buy some meat, which Matt did for me, made dinner including a kale salad from volunteer kale, and fielded dinner complaints. 

Phone call with my sister, organized the pantry while listening to audiobook on hoopla, watched Survivor with the fam, and Riverdale by myself, did a little social media ranting, ate too many snacks and now here we are. 

Oh, yeah right I did laundry and dishes again today. 

Just another day in paradise

Spent most of the day today analyzing finances, hoping to find some sweet spot that allows us to weather the pandemic and still retire in style, lol. 

Made chive pesto, which didn't turn out as tasty as last year's. Either the olive oil was too cheap or I didn't use enough Parmesan or the chives I picked yesterday weren't fresh enough. Anyway, I made it, so I'll eat it. 

Other than sitting in on the Library board meeting via "zoom" and the usual laundry, dinner, and listening to 1/3 of an audiobook that's about all I did today. 

Oh, planted some chives in between the daffodils. Hopefully that's a good spot since I harvested some volunteers from there over the weekend. 

Daughter says she's started reading the book I wrote and the beginning is too confusing with too many characters. 

Son called the dog a precious angel, so I called son a precious angel and tucked him into bed. 

Watched TV with Matt, drank cocktail,  

Right on Schedule

Last post, I said about once a year I get motivated. I have a habit of writing about what I'm going to do. Even my journaling is often filled with To Do Lists and big plans. So tonight I'm going to write about what I Actually Do, or what I've done.

I picked a bad day to decide this, unfortunately. Not very productive today, as I had to have medical tests for possible kidney stones, and unpleasant drinking of awful banana flavored solution at 6:30 am that left me somewhat nauseous all day. Then the actual test, which occupied most of the morning, and weird interactions with medical professionals all gowned and masked due to virus pandemic. I'm made to leave the premises and wait in my car, where 2 minutes later the medical man reappears and signals me to open the window. I have to put the key in to do so, and he tells me, "You have to go upstairs first, follow me." So I put the window back up, remove the key, get back out of the car and follow him. It all seems very unnecessary, not sure what is accomplished other than a lot of extra running around and a compliment on my homemade mask.

Post-test, a quick stop at the grocery store for the few things I couldn't get at my Target run last week. Failed to stock up on meat, despite the predictions of soon to come meat shortage, and had to stop at a second store for yeast and flour (still no bread flour).

Back at home, kids have NOT done their chores, despite my reminding them this morning and despite them slacking off on their schoolwork (no one is practicing their music--don't they understand I can easily notice this?) We put away the groceries, and I take a looong shower like I do anytime I have to venture out into the world.

Afterward, I make myself some cheesy toasted pita bread for lunch, and then waste time in a social media debate with someone I unblocked for some weird reason. I read more about the virus, and get frustrated with medical professionals and their lack of success here in Michigan. Check on my finances, and do some laundry, and tidy up around the house. I keep feeling weird stomach sensations and have to sit back down.

Anyway, that's about it for this Monday--other than cooking dinner, including the 5 mini potatoes I found when we prepped the garden boxes yesterday. I worked with Robbie on the garden prep, and had some nice conversation while we pulled out all the old leaves and helicopters. Then he got sick of working and we ended up with a mini-debate on the usefulness of having a garden at all. I admit, our backyard efforts are meager at best (although we did have frozen green beans through the winter). I try to explain to him that it's a good skill to learn how to produce your own food, and he debates back rather sarcastically that, "it's not that hard, I could do it any time I want to."

My response, "if it's not that hard, then what's the big deal about helping us?" only makes him crabbier. The fact that all the work makes my back ache makes ME crabbier.

Anyway, a leisurely and time-wasted Monday, which I'm finishing off with writing time (this counts doesn't it?) and some more laundry and TV before early to bed tonight, with fingers crossed for a better feeling stomach tomorrow.

Getting Organized

About every one or two years, I feel the need to make sure my life is productive and perfect and so I create a schedule of how I will occupy my time for peak efficiency. I expect this will work just as well as it did in high-school, as evidenced by my NOT becoming a late-blooming musical prodigy. However, I'm not going to let past failures stop me, so here is my plan for living an average day, post-tax season, pre kids-off-for-summer. I have 1 1/2 months to adhere to this disciplined way of life.

6:15 am: Wake/Eat/Grooming/Family

7 am: Ok for real now Wake Eat Drink Tea and Water Shower Get Dressed speak to family Clean Kitchen or Check Garden if you’ll be at work later.

8 am: Everyone has LEFT the building. This would be a super time to write, if I can keep my little eyeballs open. Be Dressed by now, even if not going to work. Walk the dog and be “unplugged” and focused on writing, planning, and organizing until at least 9:30 am.

9:30 am: Leave for work if necessary. If not, do some physical household chores, GET UP stop sitting, and take care of some shit for at least ½ hour.

10 am: If not at work, then get back to “homework” Tax Study M/Writing T,Th,F/or Job Search W

11 am: Was ONE HOUR enough for that stuff? Let’s hope it was, and check your TO DO list, do errands, phone calls, emails, groceries, or just clean up a little more shit.

12 pm: Are you still working or running errands? Good, if not, go ahead and take a lunch break for a half hour.

1 pm: Okay, if you needed a nap, you should have taken one by now. If you didn’t, you should be back to business now. This would be an excellent time to do some gardening or organizing if you are home. Maybe some inspiration will come to you.

2 pm: You should write right now. For like ONE hour. If you were at work, and you’re just getting home, you get to rest, but otherwise, you need to write. Figure out who else is writing at 2-3 pm EST and connect with them. If you were at work and just getting home, try not to devour entire package of the first food you encounter. Eat an apple! Eat some celery! Drink Water! Start cooking dinner and eat the ingredients!

3 pm: Kids are home from school. Time to tour the facility and pick up slack, and I guess, make some fucking dinner. Put some music on to make things suck less.

4 pm: Just fuggedaboudit and try to get something useful accomplished, most likely in the kitchen. You probably have to pick up someone or something from somewhere, so try to remember what it was.

5 pm: We’re cooking, we’re eating, we’re yelling at each other, and throwing mail from off the table onto the dump desk where it will get lost. Maybe some laundry.

6 pm: Running kids to places, but if not, probably ought to get the house in order. Dishes or some shit.

7 pm: Holy crap, this day isn’t done yet? If I don’t have to be somewhere (ha!) I’m probably just trying to catch up with stuff that wasn’t done. Check out that to-do list, or go out and garden, or go for a walk, or call someone (and yes, do it NOW, because next time you think of it, it will be 11 pm.)

8 pm: Really, you deserve a break, or a cocktail or something by now. But if it’s too early to hunker down with your favorite show, then why don’t you tell the kids to take a shower and get their homework done while you do a little writing. Try to stay off twitter/FB right now, because you know you’ll just end up wasting an hour, what with the burnout and all. Try and say goodnight to the kiddos, and show some love, because next time you think of it, they’ll already be asleep. Or worse, they’ll be up on their electronics, and then you’ll have to yell at them.

9 pm: Should be some quality time from now to 11 to just relax, and if the family isn’t supportive of the relaxation, then go ahead and hole up and write. If you’re just getting home from someplace, try not to veg out too soon, make sure you take care of business before it’s too late. Like why the hell are all these dishes and laundry still looking at me?

10 pm; Matt’s probably going to bed. Say goodnight or something.

11 pm: Now, if you are on a roll with some writing or a good book or binging something great on TV, then go ahead and stay up. But if you are just sitting online, frittering away time, then for gods sake, find a book to read, and get into your damn bed.

It's Fiction People

Unless you swap "boys" and "girls" and substitute "sexual assault" for "Ankling."

But I suspect you've already figured that out.

Imagine Girls

by Maria Mainero

Part 1: A New Fad

A new fad is sweeping the nation that has become popular with some teen girls and young women. They call it Ankling and refer to it as a “game.” It’s based on the old concept of putting a notch in a bedpost for sexual conquests, but in this case, the “notch” is in the Achilles tendon of the boy they’ve “conquered.”

Initially, the fad starts as a form of vigilante justice targeting the type of guys most people agree deserve some kind of punishment. Horny guys who catcall girls, guys who text obscene pictures to girls. Boys who won’t take no for an answer or try to play games of their own to “score” sex. Notching or Ankling is low-key cheered on by other girls and women and parents who know “those boys” were no good. Because the victims are all “bad guys” for one reason or another, no one minds that they get what’s coming to them.

When these so-called low-life boys complain of their injury, the general community looks upon them with suspicion and scorn. They are asked why they didn’t treat girls better so they wouldn’t have been targeted like this. They are asked if they are too weak to defend themselves against one girl with a knife. They are told they should’ve kept their pants on. They are told they’re lucky she didn’t use that knife “somewhere else.” They are told they probably started it, and that girls are entitled to defend themselves.

Eventually it escalates. Psychologists suggest that girls may get a thrill from dominating boys in this way. To satisfy their need for a hormonal rush, they find more and more reasons that men and boys deserve to be punished. Any boy who wants to have any kind of sexual contact might have to pay the price. Of course, not ALL girls are like this, and so boys begin to devise ways to figure out which girls they can trust. Sometimes they get it wrong. When they do, people are quick to point out the ways they demonstrated bad judgment in dating that particular girl.

Meanwhile, the more aggressive girls have developed a set of “rules” that boys need to live by if they expect to remain safe. Boys need to always be deferential to girls, treating them as if they are royalty. Boys should slouch, and try to appear shorter than girls, so that girls know the boy is not a threat. Boys should always keep their hands exposed and visible, so girls can see they aren’t hiding drugs or weapons that might harm a girl. Wearing gloves, hoodies, loose clothing, or having any pockets are all deemed to be indications of a man’s bad intentions, and justification for a girl to Ankle him, even if he has not approached her sexually in any way.

Not ALL girls are like this. Some girls care about boys and don’t want to see them hurt. They advise their male friends to just go along with the rules. Sure, it’s silly and annoying, but it’s not THAT hard to wear clothes without pockets, and who cares, it’s just clothing. Schools determine that boys wearing pockets and baggy clothing have become too much of a distraction to girls, and so they change the dress codes accordingly.

Most boys, and their parents, and  some of the more enlightened girls, are very upset that boys are getting hurt and that law enforcement doesn’t seem to be taking these cases seriously. Technically, Ankling is Assault and Battery and it’s illegal. However, it’s very hard to catch these girls, and prove they did it. The girls tend to run in packs and look out for each other and give each other alibis. There’s often not any physical evidence, beyond the severed tendon. Girls will lurk under stairwells, or in bushes, and so many school bus attacks have occurred, that boys are now made to sit in the back of the bus, so girls can’t get behind them to cut them from under the seat.

The fact is, it doesn’t take long to slash a leg, and it’s often a case of he said/she said. Many of these cases don’t even make it to the courtroom. When they do, the victim often finds himself in the uncomfortable position of explaining, why he thinks he has a right to make accusations that could “ruin someone’s life,” for a mere cut that should heal fully in 4 to 6 months. The 4 to 6 month timeframe becomes a popular defense battle cry, so that even when a ironclad case comes through, the girl generally gets a 4 to 6 month sentence, usually probation, or community service.

The victims argue that healing isn’t complete in 4 to 6 months. There may be lifelong weakness, limping, and post-traumatic stress (judges tend to roll their eyes at this one). Many people dismiss the injured boys as whiners, but for the victims and their families the pain is real. They launch various support groups and organizations that aim to educate the general public about the real life-long effects of an Ankling attack.

In addition, these groups provide helpful information about how boys can avoid Ankling. One group, Victims of Ankling Speaking Together (VAST) speaks out about the topic at High Schools all over the country in special sessions just for the boys. The speakers bravely share their experiences and share tips for boys. They explain how men need to walk carefully in the center of sidewalks and parking aisles, far from the reach of knife-wielding girls who might be lurking there. They should always look under their vehicles from a distance, as they approach, and also, check the back seat of the car before driving off. And always lock the doors. They should avoid stairwells with open stairsteps, as well as bleachers (girls can hide underneath).  When they go on a date with a girl, they should use a buddy system and signal a friend if they get a “bad vibe.”

“Do you recommend that boys wear the steel-lined boots,” a parent asks at one recent event, while boys groan because the boots are heavy and uncomfortable. The experts are divided on this answer. While it does prevent the Achilles tendon injury, in some cases, the presence of the steel boot just angers the attacker, and they will cut higher, which may involve knee injury, or severe blood loss and even death if they hit an artery. “You could always go with the full-length chain mail pants,” some experts suggest.

For most young men, wearing chain mail pants or even steel boots is seen as a cowardly move and overkill, since MOST girls aren’t slashers, and MOST guys don’t get attacked. In fact, on average, less than ten guys per high-school report an Ankling injury. Advocacy groups like VAST argue that the number is much higher, claiming that boys with near misses don’t report, for fear of being targeted again. And sometimes a boy may pass off the injury as sports related, which is more socially acceptable than admitting he’s a victim of Ankling and being labeled a “jerk.”

And what about these rowdy, reckless girls who are preying on guys like this? There are some opposition groups, like Ban Ankling Bullies (BAB), but these are considered fringe movements, whose violent protests label all young women as lost causes. The more general attitude is that girls are “just letting off some steam,” or engaging in youthful hijinks. The impression that boys deserve it is widespread. “Girls that age are very hormonal,” says Dr. Jane Bordon, who has studied the phenomenon for several years. “If they can find a less destructive way to release their energy, it’s helpful. Play a video game or get out on the shooting range.” But for people like Samantha Jackson, a mom in a small town in Michigan, Ankling isn’t that big of a deal. “Girls will be girls,” she says. “They’re young, and they’re going to make some bad decisions. It’s not even that bad.”

And science seems to show, she’s right. In an unexpected side-effect, due to the recent increase in these incidents, doctors have now perfected the Achilles Tendon repair surgery, with groundbreaking new techniques. Recovery rates and times are better than ever, and this is great news for all the guys who have legitimate sports injuries. In a way, it’s a blessing.

(Next week: Part 2. How Ankling Launched a New Generation of Medical Technology.)

The Lost Week

I was actually doing a fabulous job of starting off the school year right, and not wasting time while the kids were gone. I had my multi-page, appropriately titled, "Tedious Chore List." I had actually completed more than 50% of the tedious chores (calculating by line item, not by time it would take to complete said chores.) Things were looking cleaner around the house. A pile of discards was growing for Purple Heart pickup.

Then the Fall Colds hit, leaving me with multiple days of feeling in a fog, sleeping excessively, and attending to kids who were also sick, and not in school. Slight gratitude here that it happened in week two of September, hopefully giving me time to recover and get back on track, before the inevitable late October Halloween derailment.

At the library tonight, where I'm supposed to spend an hour and a half every Monday between Ballet class drop off and pickup, working on my writing. I did this last year on Wednesdays. Mondays are a lot more annoying at the library. Many more people coming and going, getting dropped off in shuttle buses, etc. Difficulty finding a quiet nook to work. I spent my time this night as follows:

Closing all open windows on computer.
Figuring out how to log on to library Wi-Fi, yet again.
Sending email to writing critique partner.
Getting distracted by emails from Music Class, re: Trip I must sign my child up for ASAP so she doesn't end up on the wait list, Dance Class, re: Convoluted Schedule change which might save me 15 minutes of tuition fees, could I be so lucky?
Sign Child up for Music Class Trip.
Email Dance Teacher to inquire about fee refund?
Search for my manuscript and realize the most recent chapters I was revising have not made the transfer over to the Annoying New Computer.
Email OTHER writing critique partner, (the one I'm actually supposed to WRITE for, not just READ) and inform her of my goals to complete transition to Annoying New Computer and revise a chapter by next Monday.
Log on to Writing Chat Group.
Write this.
It is now time to go pick up the girls from dance.

I'm supposed to present a topic for 10 minutes at FCL Writers group tomorrow. Perhaps will research time management for writers.

Edit) Informed by dance school that 15 minute fee refund of $1.40 will be applied in the event that class indeed goes 15 minutes short. My optimism at the extent to which my thousands annually would be affected was obviously misplaced.

The Sugar I Said I Was Going To Stop Eating

Sitting at the kitchen table, shoveling leftover-from-my birthday coconut pecan frosting straight from the tub into my mouth with a knife, reading an article in a soggy scattered newspaper, about all these people who got food poisoning from Kellogg's Sugar Smacks, and thinking deep thoughts like, What kind of person is still eating Sugar Smacks at age 95? Probably the kind of person who eats leftover-from-her-birthday-in-May frosting out of the tub at age 40-um because it's back to school week, and not Friday yet. Who even knows how many times the power went out since May, we were gone for three weeks this summer. This probably wasn't the best idea. Dang, I just dropped a glob on my leg. Oh, look, there's none left. At least I can recycle this container now, and stop moving it out of the way while looking for snacks in the fridge. 

Anyway, maybe I'll have oatmeal for breakfast tomorrow. That sounds healthy.

Bubble Tea

As I was leaving the library with the kids this morning, after purchasing four books from the used book sale, an older man approaches and says, "Excuse me. Can I ask you a question?" Thinking he wanted to know something about the library, I pleasantly say sure.

"I noticed that she's rather dark-complected," he begins. She being my 13-year-old, who looks as perplexed as I feel. "Is she of mixed nationality, or is it just from being in the sun in the summer?"

(Does anyone ever say "No" when someone says, "Can I ask you a question?" Thinking I should start.)

Anyway, since I agreed to a question, I blurt out "Yes," and leave him to puzzle out which "or" I'm answering. He then tells me about his maybe mixed race son (not sure if that's what he said) who is in Singapore? or somewhere, and somehow this is why he's now interested in people's heritage.

So anyway, I guess my ability to attract oddballs is still going strong.

According to my son, it's just weird to ask personal questions about a stranger who is 50 years younger than you. I completely agree.

We stopped for Bubble Tea after grocery shopping, fulfilling the girl's month-long quest. One sip of the overly sweet concoction was enough for me.

I've rearranged cupboards to accommodate the new Moka and espresso cups, and create a breakfast and lunch prep area. We'll see if this helps the kitchen stay magically clean.

Post-Vacation Resolutions

Back from a week Up North. As usual the trouble with the joy of getting away from it all, is the realization that despite abundant free time on my hands, I'm unable to productively accomplish anything because "it all" is back home. Instead, I must sit around in sweltering humidity, gritty with sand, occupied with bad reading choices, since I decided to try to clean house before we left and ran out of time to stop to the library (e-reader is rendered obsolete aka, bricked by B&N--still saving that rant for another day.)

The usual result is that I spend a boatload of time gazing at the lake and thinking up ways to make everyone's life miserable.

Not really. I mean, actually, I'm thinking up ways to make my life absolutely perfect. Like how I'm going to get off sugar and feel full of energy and super-thin, but lose weight slowly and sensibly so I don't become a wrinkled old hag. I'm going to do at least an hour of cardio daily, some of which will be while cleaning the house, and will also take the dog on long walks, and get tons of inspiration for writing. I mean if Dickens had time to walk 3 hours a day, then surely I can houseclean, walk dog and still write this generation's classic literature. (Note, excess time on hands on vacation leads me to Dickens trivia, but does not lead me to time to crack open the creaking laptop and compose my own brilliance.)

Also, I am going to do crafts, and create beautiful quilts and crocheted things with fabric from my old tattered clothes and my burgeoning collection of grocery store plastic bags. The very first thing I'll make is a reusable shopping bag, and I will never forget to take this one into the store. Probably because the no-sugar diet and extra walking will improve my mental function.

I will also connect better with my children so next time we sit around a campfire and try to talk about hopes and dreams and feelings, it won't all be about farts. We will be better disciplined about screen time, and they will do housekeeping and crafts with me instead of binge-watching every single episode of We Bare Bears. As a result of this, on Monday back from vacation, I abandon the heaps of waiting laundry and take the kids to see a movie, Christopher Robin. (Please don't ask me to explain my logic.)

The movie was funny and sweet, and the 11 year old liked it. (Thirteen was unimpressed). Unfortunately it's one of those well-used plots, where the parent(s) is all busy and stressed out and have forgotten how to connect with their childhood and What's Truly Important. This does not coincide well with my plan of reining in my undisciplined children.

Return home with "please just one or two things" from Target, including Laundry Detergent and Milk (needed). End of Vacation is not sitting well with the other family member who is home from work and hungry and Wondering where we all are.

Very well. We all yell a bit, get dinner made of Corn on the Cob and Hot Dogs (left over from Vacation) and I make kids clean the kitchen with me until someone cries at my efforts to explain how to wash a dish, rather than merely giving it a gentle tickle with a dish brush.

I write this blog post to prove that I can do it, even without my three hours of walking/housework/cardio.

Watching Sing Street Again

A friend asked for movie recommendations while she’s recovering from foot surgery, and I once again recommended my favorite movie in recent times, “Sing Street,” which I’d just been thinking about earlier in the day.

It’s a movie that often crosses my mind and it’s particularly relevant to Young Adult writing. My last book (querying now), and my current work-in-progress are both YA, and the movie “Sing Street” gloriously captures the reason I love Young Adult stories, even as an adult. 

The story itself isn’t that complicated. It’s about a boy who starts a rock band to impress a girl he likes. But his life is complicated. Parents, and school and circumstances are all getting in the way of his dreams. The story is told from such a realistic point of view, that upon watching for a second time, I was struck by how accurately the first viewing of the movie had portrayed teen experience, pushing even me, as an adult viewer, back into the point-of-view of teenager.

There are a number of moments in the movie when things seem particularly tense. When it seems like something dark and dreadful is being foreshadowed. Not every one of this moments materializes into the worst-case-scenario you might expect, but those moments of not knowing, along with Conner, perfectly capture that teenage feeling, of life hitting you full-force, and never knowing if this disaster is going to be one that blows over by Monday, or if it’s the pivotal moment that’s going to shape your future forever.

And teenage-hood is packed with those pivotal moments, each one—from what sport you play, to your grades to your friends to your free time—each one of them chipping away at the myriad futures that have been previously open and available to you ever since you were old enough to answer the question “what do you want to be when you grow up.” Despite promises of “it gets better,” vying with “these are the best years of your life,” the truth is these years are full of irrevocable decisions.

I’ll never get to go back and practice piano three hours a day instead of two, and maybe get that 1^st prize scholarship and summer piano camp, instead of an honorable mention and dinner with parents who say, “musician isn’t a job.” Does it matter that “musican” may have been my escape and not my dream? All that matters is that, at some point in those years, the possibilities narrowed. 

Teens see this shrinking of the world that’s theirs for the taking. The talk of “you can be whatever you put your mind to,” tells them with certainty, that they are responsible for limiting their own possibilities, by how they choose to use their minds. It’s terrifying, and worse, outside of their own minds, are the obstacles out of their control—parents, money, teachers, friends, and abilities, who act in ways that further limit them.

Sing Street does a beautiful job of immersing the viewer into pushing up against those obstacles without knowing if you’ll push through. Without knowing if the path you put your mind to is even the right one, and without knowing if you’ll look back on it all someday and laugh. 

The Way I Am

I dabble, or I obsess. It's the reason I rarely get passionate about things, because honestly life's too short and too big to sink into one thing to the exclusion of all others. From time to time though, I indulge in an obsession. Possibly a TV show (Vampire Diaries) or a band (MCR) or a celebrity (Alan Rickman). Or maybe just a song or album (we won't talk about how many times I've listened to 'Light of the Seven' on repeat for at least an hour.)

And then there are things I dabble in. Like running. Which involved two 5Ks and one "Marathon Relay" and painful foot problems, and my subsequent realization that running just isn't my thing.

But in between dabbling and obsessing, I have the interests that have been consistent in my life, and although that interest may never get to the level of passion, these things are who I am:

Pop Culture

History

French

Music

Piano

Beethoven

Chopin

Libraries

Radio

Baseball

Newspapers

Gardening

Camping

Bicycling

Humor

Travel

Writing

Movies 

The stories I love and write are about people who are misunderstood and the ways they find to express themselves honestly to the world. 

My latest obsession has, unfortunately, been politics. I try to remind myself that this blends my interests in History and Pop Culture. But I'd much rather let this newest obsession lapse. Can't manage to close both eyes to it though. 

I have a Pinterest inspiration page for the novel I'm currently querying, THE LIFE YOU STOLE. 

Penguins

Photo: Penguin's Paradise by Anne Froehlich

Line up in a flock of black and white.

Stand firm on ice cold principles

 the size of a small state.

We just broke off a chunk of Monticello

 but it’s only visible from space.

We’re cracked, we’re melting, we’re floating

 away on a world that looks to us

 like it hasn’t changed since ’76.

by Maria Mainero