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Less stuff; more love

Sunday, January 5th, 2014

The end of procrastination

Lofty goal but I’m determined to make procrastination less of a stone around my neck. I’m the type of person that ends up paying hundreds and hundreds and hundreds of dollars in DMV fines for late fees because I don’t open my mail or I misplace it, then put it off and put it off because I hate doing it so much. Except that in the long run, it costs me more time and definitely more money.

The other thing I’m notoriously bad at is giving things up. It doesn’t help that my mother passed away and left me and my sister with all this stuff I haven’t yet had the heart to figure out what to do with. But after almost 8 years, I think it’s safe to say that I don’t need it and I can get rid of it.

So I’m going to make this year one of less as in less wasted time and money, less attachment to things and clutter, and fewer unfulfilled promises to myself.

Start simple: less hair

The first thing I’ve accomplished on my list is: cut my hair. I’ve been thinking about and wanting to cut my hair and donate it to Locks of Love for a very, very long time. My hair is long and thick. I don’t consider myself a terribly vain person, but it was the one thing I felt vain about, the one thing that always made me feel feminine and attractive even when I wasn’t really feeling it otherwise. It was my security blanket and super power: a girly cape of glorious hair!

Of course, it was also really long so it was a chore to take care of, and constantly in the way — uncomfortably touching me, or getting stuck in the car door or trapped under me or behind me. I dreaded washing it; I almost always had it up. But I couldn’t part with it. Until last Thursday that is when I decided it was finally time to give up my attachment to my long hair.

I really like the short hair. I felt awkward and insecure the first night, but the next morning I woke up with it sticking straight up, and I thought yes, this look I can get behind.

Goodbye Laos!

Sunday, November 8th, 2009

Endings are always bittersweet. I’m at Bangkok airport waiting for my flight home. I’m not really looking forward to going home just yet. Oddly the things I am looking forward are little things: going on a run, wearing something I haven’t worn about 10 times in the last month, a bath, laundry, and cooking for myself. I’m so sick of eating out.

Girls’ dinner

Friday, August 8th, 2008

The boys are off on their survival trip — no food, no water, just some long johns and a liter bag for each boy in Yosemite (quite appropriately at Jackass Lake :). We’re just hoping they come back alive. While they’re roughing it, we had girls’ dinner (well, girls plus a 15 year old boy :) with barbequed rack of lamb, pasta, and artichokes, and lots of wine and several martinis.

I love my girls and I feel like I haven’t seen them in forever what with the Zurich trip and the family visiting. I’ve been writing a lot lately and thinking quite a bit about my age. I went and had my annual pap this week and she asked me if I had any questions and I said no — then said, wait! How fertile am I, now that I’m almost 35? Turns out I still have quite a few reproductive years ahead of me. But my eggs are getting old.

I know I’ve said this before, but it continues to amaze me to watch my girls getting more and more beautiful as they get older. I wonder if they know it. I wonder if I, too, am getting more attractive. I somehow doubt that I am, but I see them growing more and more radiant and attractive and sure of themselves and I adore them — one of my girls turns 43 next week! 43! ;)

I wish I’d taken a picture of the dinner table with my lovelies around it because it would’ve made a great photo. I came back from Switzerland and all I wanted was to be alone. I had to get over that quickly because my sister and my son came to visit (and that’s been fun!), but now I really feel like I’m ready to not be alone and it’s good to have the girls around — to remind me that growing older isn’t a bad thing, and that good friends make everything in the world better.

The not so forgotten art of foot binding

Tuesday, July 15th, 2008

I just recently finished Rice Bowl Women, a collection of short stories from China and Japan as early as the 600s which, of course, includes stories of foot binding. Coincidentally, I had dinner at a friend’s house recently and she was telling us a story about her Chinese friend — a strong independent girl. Her grandmother had her feet bound (in my ignorance I hadn’t realized foot binding happened as recently as the 1930’s). One day, this young woman had her feet up in plain view and her father said to her, “Who’s going to marry you with those giant feet!”

Everyone knows that the ideal of beauty is varied and diverse, but it seems to me that the idolization of these tiny, little feet must not have extended to the naked foot. If you do a Google images search on foot binding, you’ll find actual photos of feet that were bound. I have a hard time imagining men found those deformed feet sexy. Surely men only appreciated the foot when clothed in elaborately embroidered litle shoes, no? But shoed or unshoed, the little feet were adored — and apparently, that adoration hasn’t been completely forgotten.

Interviews

Friday, August 20th, 2004

I had a 3.5 hour interview yesterday. Including the drive out there and back I felt like that’s all I did yesterday. I was really nervous about talking to the tech guy because the person who set up the interview said he’d be really tough and was a curmudgeon. Curmudgeon I don’t mind, tough makes me nervous. And, of course, he’s the only person’s who’s feedback I’m interested in. I’m not very good at selling myself. It sort of scares me to death. But it turned out he liked me and thought I had the technical chops. Woohoo!

And New Scientist emailed me and said the Senior Editor wants to meet and chat with me!! I’m sure they sent that email out to all their San Francisco subscribers, but I’m so excited about meeting and talking to that guy. Must catch up on my New Scientist reading…

Hey, Google IPO’ed yesterday!