Clutter Be Gone

For as long as I can remember, I have been surrounded by it. My parents are the quintessential pack rats. Spring cleaning would literally take the whole season if they tried. I remember when I was young they used to spend weekends upon weekends trying to sort and organize our basement, or garage, even spare rooms, typical catch me alls for their junk. To this day it's pretty much a useless cause. One good thing from all of this iis that my sister and I have realized it is not the way we want to live. By nature we try our darndest to remain the polar opposites to this. I am pretty organized when it comes to my living space, my workspace, even my car for example. Sure, I find it hard to get rid of receipts (but I am convinced that's because I might need them someday) and my room is jam packed with wall to wall furniture (and for this reason I am convinced it's because I need to see it visible and safe, otherwise my good shit will disappear into the Patience abyss). Oh Gawd...am I a pack rat in training? My parents can't say no to talking ANYONE'S cast off's, and on the flip side, they will only give their junk to our own family, if absolutely necessary. When i really analyze it, there are two reasons my parents are they way they are. They both grew up poor, my father in Cabbagetown and my mother in The Beaches of Toronto in the post war era where because money was scarce whatever possessions you had were important. What they rely on now is the ideal that if they hoard everything, they will not have to go out and purchase it. Lies...generally what they need never gets found, so it gets bought, soon lost and then voila...we have two if not more of the same damn thing strewn throughout the house. It's a tad frustrating. Alas, I will continue to try with every effort not to be a cluttler bug, break this cyle and move on with my life free and clear with perhaps a bare wall here and there.

Toodles

Oldies but Goodies

There is something about geriatrics. Sure, they may smell a wee bit, and maybe they can be cheap and set in their ways...but hey, I have a soft spot for them. Get this, Friday evening I have left the gym, tired and broken and staring at the daunting task of walking down 2 flights of concrete stairs in my ever so soft crocs to the underground parking...when all of a sudden, a man, and I am not even kidding you, had to be late 70's at least, so a very old man, comes trotting up the stairs TWO at a time as if he was an annoying teenager with all the energy in the world and lickety split he is thru the door and ready for his workout. I just about died. I have worked a short day, still have to meet friends for dinner, feel like I have just been beaten with a large stick all over my body, and am yet to be 27...but this old dude is trucking right along. Unbelievable. I worked for a long time talking to the public via call centres and always loved it when an elderly person would feel no ways in correcting me that they indeed DID have internet access and knew fully how to use all the contraptions. It always made me feel good. In the same way that I like to hear stories of spry old peeps, sharp as a whip, livin' it up in their 90's, taking care of their own homes and travelling the world. I know it's a lot to do with good genes, and what you make of it, I suppose it makes me wonder if maybe I can actually live past 35...or if one day I may even have a career working with older generations. Who knows. Wisdom is a strong word, and more than just with time, I think it comes with true experience and reflection. I rarely find it difficult to hear about the passing of someone who is very old, I am more one of those annoying thinkers that 'they lived a good long life'...but it's true. I respect old people. I don't think that they are entitled just because of their age as the last thing I want to see or hear is grumpy old Edna or Harold telling off every person within earshot where to go or what to do. Nor do I want to devote my life to looking after aging parents or see anyone suffer because they are too old to work or for their bodies to work for them. There is a lot to learn, I guess that's just how I see it. And they are just so darn cute. That's all.

Toodles

Greetings and Salutations - Bleh

Perhaps it's part of my natural quest to not conform. I hate shaking hands. I am not a germaphobe, in fact I am completely okay with the 5 second rule. I don't have some strange muscular or nerve sensitivity that sends my wrist into shock every time someone grabs and shakes it like we are trying to dice onions together. I just don't like doing it. Sure, in a place of business I am not going to full out tell new Mr. or Ms. Higher Up that I have an aversion to the conventional greeting, nor am I interested in giving off a first impression of either complete ignorance or absolute oddity. We'll let them figure it out themselves later once they see I am a 'fantastic human being'. Okay, but seriously...where I make my money I have to put aside the personal stigma. I don't yet work in a little shop on Salt Spring Island making handicrafts from tree bark as i yodle and chant my day away where it doesn't matter if I am different. Perhaps someday. An acquaintance of mine has for years called me 'Not Too Much' cause that was always my answer when he asked me 'What's Up?'. He knows better now. With most other people it's 'Oh, my blood pressure and cholesterol' which in turn gets them all concerned, but it's just my way of pointing out the rediculousness of our repetitive greetings. You expect me to say 'great' or 'fine' when you ask 'Hi, How are you today'...either just say Hello, or ask me something stimulating or unusual. When I see someone for the first time after their vacation I generally try to ask them something like 'What was your favourite part', and of course they are thrown off. Why do they always look at me like I have three eyes? Because they thought I would be the 100th person in a row who asked 'Did you have a good time?. Of course they did. I could really get into people who discuss weather with me, but that's a whole other blog, or 'note' entry in itself. You can just imagine my thoughts on that. We can't change it, yes we have it in common, but really, are you wasting my time with this small talk? Chat about weather is almost as annoying as shaking hands, I assure you. Okay, I'm done. How are you today?

Toodles

One Big Contradiction

Recently I have noticed a wee bit of a trend within myself. Why is it that I am so adamant about something, yet almost always find an 'exception to the rule' within my own belief. These are generally trivial, but seem to me so incredibly contradictory that I may be just making myself go a little loco. Let me explain. You may or may not know this but...I absolutely detest driving. I hate it. My car, albeit pretty and roomy, is just what keeps me off the bus. Why is it that I get so irritated when drivers don't stop and pull over for emergency vehicles, yet I hardly ever signal when I change lanes on the largest highway in North America practically everyday. Am I not just as much a hazard? I don't like children, anything about them, yet when it's one that I know...I usually love them to pieces. Perhaps that's not too strange, but I think it's a tad creepy up inside my brain. I don't like bugs, few do I am sure...but I can't kill a spider...mosquito sure, house fly, I will squash it's guts, but a spider, nope, can't do it. I love animals more than anything on Earth, but I wear leather shoes and belts and eat meat daily. I am likely one of THE most blunt people I know, and am known for it, but yet I keep much about me to myself. I don't particulary like tomatoes, huge fan of ketchup - hate wearing shoes, like having many pairs - like getting compliments, horrid at just accepting them graciously. Erk, I could go on. I think too much. Must stop now before I send myself into an abyss of self destruction and realize I really just might not be a 'fantastic human being' that I always profess. Oh Dear.

Toodles.

Never Following Through

Call them empty promises to myself, call it quitting when the going gets tough, call it boredom. They all mean the same thing to me. I am a hardcore, true and fast quitter. Unless it's specific to my obligations as an employee, I rarely finish anything I start. It has always been the way. I can't even committ myself to a simple little blog that I told myself was going to be a mainstay in my routine starting around Christmas passed. What I CAN do is continue to eat McDonalds...oh yah, that was the Kevin wanting to stop eating it...did he stick with it, of course not! Had it both days this weekend, bleh. And don't get it twisted, that was not an 'it was disgusting and made me feel physically ill' kinda bleh (cause it was as always, sinfully delicious), it was a 'chuh, there I go failing again and hating on my sorry little sad self' kinda bleh. Once long ago I started guitar lessons...quit. Last year I started out well at the gym and eating well...plateauing. One year at University, one semester at college...didn't re-enroll. I can't even seem to get finished my photo albums so 5 vacations later...pics still piled on the worktable. To top it all off, I am a procrastinator, far too laid back to be motivated, and don't have any real goals in life. Whatever am I giong to do? Be like Lopez, Freeman and Redford...act in An 'Unfinished Life'? It's my new mantra.

Toodles

That's the Way It Is

I have pretty much always marched to the beat of my own drum. Okay scrap that. I have more glided to the serene opulence of my own violin. Perhaps entire orchestra is even more appropriate. I was always bold and hard headed as a child. I remember the uproar in grade 2 when I insisted on being a chick punk rocker...oh the drama. And then in grade 8 when I refused to be confirmed...they tried an Intervention. Unsure if because I was born a Taurus, or just because I was trying to prove far too much at the young age, I will never know. I am more laid back and easy going now that I get older. But I still stick to what I believe is right while remaining harmless. It has always amazed me why and when people stick to certain practices and mundane rituals just because of a certain tradition or religious following. Is eating pork really that horrid? Try a nice well done strip of bacon...you will love it! The fact remains that sticking to these principles that have not vanished for years, centuries in fact keeps some people grounded. Many like to know they belong, they have a purpose, a reason. It's all very interesting I suppose. Being raised in such a metropolis as Toronto has given me the ability to explore and question innocently without judgement or mass criticism. I am thankful that others as well can accept my open mind all the while exhibiting the same behaviour. But seriously, salty bacon is damn good!

Toodles