Home Furnishings

A few months ago, Facebook was besieged by a plague of lists wherein people would share things about themselves. Not usually one to engage in mass hysterics, I would have sat this one out per usual, but my sister suggested we should both participate out of familial duty since our cousins had expressed interest in our doing so. Of course, I ended up the George to her Jerry, detailing various perceived idiosyncracies about myself in a painstaking act of reveal-thy-self, while she never quite got around to it. Bah humbug.

In that list (see below), I mentioned that home furnishings stress me out. Example: behold my teacups! I love them, but the thought of having to keep up with them and ensure their safety as I move from place to place is enough to make me want to just sell them off right now.

The List 25
1. Facebook stresses me out sometimes (case in point right here), as do doormen, home furnishings, and non-hair-related conversations with hairstylists.

2. I recently discovered that my abdomen has an onion intolerance, not the six embryos I had originally suspected.

3. I used to think I should live without regrets, but now I think that my regrets teach me important life lessons.

4. I start counting my regrets at kindergarten (because my pre-school self just didn't know any better).

5. All of my regrets involve interpersonal relationships, which I am terrible at navigating (but I'm sure you already knew that).

6. My first regret stems from the first day of kindergarten, when I was so relieved that Amy Smialowicz asked me to play that I am quite sure that I did not turn back to wave goodbye to my mother.

7. My second regret is that I never thanked Amy Smialowicz for asking me to play.

8. I attended four colleges in four years.

9. I resent all the other April Changs in the world for diluting the powerful cachet attached to my name.

10. A placenta once fell onto my shoe. The stain just recently faded.

11. I have a recurring nightmare where I fail my childhood piano teacher.

12. I'm interested in living in a commune of people who are successful, intelligent, and don't make me vomit. Please send leads.

13. I secretly wish everyone knew about my blog.

14. I took a weekend trip to Los Angeles with nothing but a carry-on suitcase and ended up staying there for a year.

15. I went nuts wearing my entire wardrobe when I returned from LA, but now I want to go back to having no belongings.

16. I grew up watching almost 40 hours of television per week.

17. Some jobs I've had: blueberry picker, street hustler (of comedy tickets), Pepsi Challenge promotional photographer, birth doula, nanny, telemarketer. This list is still growing.

18. Masseuses always tell me I'm flexible and have soft skin, but I think that's because they're used to hairy old people.

19. I once had an eyelash that was 1.5 inches long. I wanted to submit it to Guinness, but I couldn't find a photographer with both the skillz and willingness to photograph my novelty act.

20. As a child, I tried to domesticate a fly by trapping it in a plastic container and naming it Fred. To my horror, he died a few days later.

21. I also once used my Care Bear stuffed animal to mop up spilled apple juice.

22. And would stuff half-eaten hot dogs under the couch.

23. And would bite the edge of an oblong throw pillow and thrash it around while calling it a hot dog.

24. Self-checkout terminals have allowed me to live out my lifelong dream of being a grocery store clerk.

25. I have four alarm clocks and can sleep through all of them.

Jobs for Me

The following is a list of jobs I think I could enjoy, in no particular order (culled from the results of a 5-minute quiz on The Princeton Review's website):

• set designer. coincidentally, i wrote a paper on this career option in 9th grade, much to the dismay of my uptight Advanced English teacher). but n.b. this would have to be for sets for projects with meaning because ultimately i couldn't stress out about where Gwen Stefani's video screen was.
  
• florist. would have to develop green thumb. but like the contribution to aesthetics this job would provide. plus, clear opportunity for own business and distinguish self from rest (competitive spirit satisfied).
• mediator. a little ho-hum, but easy transition from current job. plus, opportunity for own business. one-on-one counseling element satisfied and working on something with meaning/respected/non-frivolous.
• trial lawyer. i'm surprised at this one because i have recently realized i detest selling/persuading others (either you see the light or you don't). one-on-one counseling potential, respected work, but ho-hum.
• writer. yep. but enslaved or free agent?
• secretary. but too high stakes because your principal relies on you for everything.
  
• professor. but need to know too much? satisfies prestige, respectability, non-sell-out but not a sucker, get one-on-one counseling element and showmanship.
• nutritionist. but low on the rung--why not doctor. = respectability in question. one-on-one counseling/imparting knowledge satisfied. field of interest.
• fashion designer. yes. i'll take this to include jewelry. but uphill battle w/ $.
  
• cosmetologist. yes. i'll take this to include estheticians. one-on-one counseling. work of value. aesthetic-oriented. own business opportunity. potential to school everyone.
• comedian. yep. uphill battle w/ $.
  
• college administrator. yes. one-on-one counseling (if student services/residential related). academic environment = respectable.
  
• career counselor. yes. one-on-one counseling, imparting knowledge.
  
• artist. see fashion designer.
• antiques dealer. own business, specialized knowledge, public-oriented.
• actor. see comedian.
  

Ambling Through Rambling Thoughts on the Role of Work

Thus far, I've been approaching my working life as a series of experiences. This is not borne out of a conscious effort--it is simply the way I see the world. I struggle a great deal with the idea of work. Apparently it is necessary in our society--it is what we do with ourselves. So for me, what I do with myself has been a series of thoughtful adventures--ways to bide my time. But ultimately, all this time-biding begs the question: do I want to keep racking up narcissistic trophies to showcase the panopoly of things I've done, pursuing novelty job/career paths but never fully investing in any one of them? Or, do I want to actually produce a life's work. Work that gets enriched by experience. And the answer, I believe, is a no to the former and a yes to the latter.

And here is where my impatience enters. I hate the idea of further wasting precious experience-gaining years on novelty acts and vanity jobs. My current job is the beginning to a marvelous career, complete with intellectual challenge, ample recognition, and financial rewards. But ultimately, I don't want to have lived my life in this career. The thought of even spending two years in this field petrifies me.

What, then, is the solution? How should I make money instead? Should I make money pursuing my creative interests instead or in addition? My initial plan was to pursue my creative interests in addition. But woe is me, I failed to realize the folly of that plan--to work in this field is to work at minimum 40 hours per week, which for me leaves precious little time for much else.

Aside: I have recently been giving much thought to energy levels and individual success and compatibility with others. We each have our own energy level. Matching of energy levels is important for compatibility, but do those with low energy levels succeed or achieve less than their high-energy counterparts? They most certainly would be less prolific. But a singular piece of high quality work can be enough. I would consider myself to be someone who possesses a moderate energy level. This means I can work 55 hours/week and find time to do other activities, but the other activities can probably only amount to about 7-8 hours at the absolute maximum without me feeling like my life is falling apart, and even then, I don't feel like my household is running properly.

I think the solution is to find a less demanding job that will still allow me to:

1. get out of debt and
2. have time for creative pursuits

and the goal would be to eventually transition out of that job entirely and focus 100% on the creative pursuit.

Potential less time-intensive jobs:

• career counselor
• admissions officer
• RA
• job recruiter
• non-profit job

When to shift:

1) In 1.5 years, after credit card debt paid off?
2) In 20 years, after I have firmly established myself as a respectable member of society?

Remember: extreme early retirement.

Dairy Diary

This week in Dairy Diary, I deviate slightly from the established format to (1) answer a question I posed in Entry 1 and (2) discuss that more frequently produced waste product: URINE.

Dairy Diary: Homeless Defecation and Urine

1. What do homeless people do when they get diarrhea? While I do not have an answer to homeless diarrhea, I am now the privileged owner of an answer to homeless defecation. Much to my dismay, it seems other homeless people have not yet gotten wise to the utility of a plastic bag-cum-toilet. On my way out of the Lexington Avenue station of the E train the other day, I peeped a homeless squatting on the edge of the platform dropping feces directly onto the floor. Tsk tsk!

Aside: If homeless people had dogs, they would soon learn the beneficial uses of plastic bags, and maybe then we could avoid getting fecal matter onto subway platforms. Plus, area animal shelters are overburdened as is. Providing each homeless person in NYC with a dog could therefore be a cost-effective route to enhancing the quality of life of all New Yorkers.

2. Urine. I have taken to guzzling R.W. Knudsen's Just Cranberry juice of late. Though it leaves a disappointing aftertaste that is not unlike that which is left in the mouth after an episode of vomiting, its rapid and salutary impact on the bladder and urinary tract absolutely cannot be denied. Two snaps up.

Hipsters Gone Wild

Two weekends ago, I walk-jog-scurried to my apartment building at 3:45am to find a disheveled damsel asking me to let her in because she had "just been attacked."

A white male wearing a white fedora with a black stripe had thrown her to the sidewalk and tried to snatch her purse.

You know times are hard when hipsters have stopped being ironic and started giving in to their baser needs. Now where can I get some pepper spray?

That's my jam.

YES: A recent Op-Ed in the NY Times: "What Life Asks of Us" by David Brooks.

A few years ago, a faculty committee at Harvard produced a report on the purpose of education. “The aim of a liberal education” the report declared, “is to unsettle presumptions, to defamiliarize the familiar, to reveal what is going on beneath and behind appearances, to disorient young people and to help them to find ways to reorient themselves.”

The report implied an entire way of living. Individuals should learn to think for themselves. They should be skeptical of pre-existing arrangements. They should break free from the way they were raised, examine life from the outside and discover their own values.

This approach is deeply consistent with the individualism of modern culture, with its emphasis on personal inquiry, personal self-discovery and personal happiness. But there is another, older way of living, and it was discussed in a neglected book that came out last summer called “On Thinking Institutionally” by the political scientist Hugh Heclo.

In this way of living, to borrow an old phrase, we are not defined by what we ask of life. We are defined by what life asks of us. As we go through life, we travel through institutions — first family and school, then the institutions of a profession or a craft.

Each of these institutions comes with certain rules and obligations that tell us how to do what we’re supposed to do. Journalism imposes habits that help reporters keep a mental distance from those they cover. Scientists have obligations to the community of researchers. In the process of absorbing the rules of the institutions we inhabit, we become who we are.

New generations don’t invent institutional practices. These practices are passed down and evolve. So the institutionalist has a deep reverence for those who came before and built up the rules that he has temporarily taken delivery of. “In taking delivery,” Heclo writes, “institutionalists see themselves as debtors who owe something, not creditors to whom something is owed.”

The rules of a profession or an institution are not like traffic regulations. They are deeply woven into the identity of the people who practice them. A teacher’s relationship to the craft of teaching, an athlete’s relationship to her sport, a farmer’s relation to her land is not an individual choice that can be easily reversed when psychic losses exceed psychic profits. Her social function defines who she is. The connection is more like a covenant. There will be many long periods when you put more into your institutions than you get out.

In 2005, Ryne Sandberg was inducted into the baseball Hall of Fame. Heclo cites his speech as an example of how people talk when they are defined by their devotion to an institution:

“I was in awe every time I walked onto the field. That’s respect. I was taught you never, ever disrespect your opponents or your teammates or your organization or your manager and never, ever your uniform. You make a great play, act like you’ve done it before; get a big hit, look for the third base coach and get ready to run the bases.”

Sandberg motioned to those inducted before him, “These guys sitting up here did not pave the way for the rest of us so that players could swing for the fences every time up and forget how to move a runner over to third. It’s disrespectful to them, to you and to the game of baseball that we all played growing up.

“Respect. A lot of people say this honor validates my career, but I didn’t work hard for validation. I didn’t play the game right because I saw a reward at the end of the tunnel. I played it right because that’s what you’re supposed to do, play it right and with respect ... . If this validates anything, it’s that guys who taught me the game ... did what they were supposed to do, and I did what I was supposed to do.”

I thought it worth devoting a column to institutional thinking because I try to keep a list of the people in public life I admire most. Invariably, the people who make that list have subjugated themselves to their profession, social function or institution.

Second, institutional thinking is eroding. Faith in all institutions, including charities, has declined precipitously over the past generation, not only in the U.S. but around the world. Lack of institutional awareness has bred cynicism and undermined habits of behavior. Bankers, for example, used to have a code that made them a bit stodgy and which held them up for ridicule in movies like “Mary Poppins.” But the banker’s code has eroded, and the result was not liberation but self-destruction.

Institutions do all the things that are supposed to be bad. They impede personal exploration. They enforce conformity.

But they often save us from our weaknesses and give meaning to life.

This is exactly what I've been talking about. I use "prearranged marriage" as a proxy for all things "institutional," in the words of David Brooks and apparently a one Mr. Hugh Heclo. My personal list of admirees does not include conformists or the subjugated--or, at least, the reason for their being on my list tends to do more with their individualistic pioneering spirit. Nonetheless, I still believe that to willingly live* within an institution may very well be our one true path to happiness. If I have an institution, it is that derived from a bourgeois, individualistic, liberal arts milieu, which, yes, has pretty much thrown my psyche directly into the agony of groundlessness and eternal query (loyal readers, thanks for listening to me kvetch about what exhausting work that has been).

Do ancient societies, once again, know best? Is the most well adjusted child in modern American society therefore the one who has the perils of the individualistic liberal arts education offset by traditionalist parents who provide unending guilt and reminders of the child's obligations to a larger whole?

*I now consider split infinitives to be the righteous path. Obamanos.

Tired and Feathered

Yowzers!

I recently moved, and for the first time in all the many times I've lived in NYC, I must furnish my living space from scratch.

It's been a struggle, to say the least. Furniture is expensive, so I definitely can't buy it all at once, and locating furniture and other home furnishings that are at once space-appropriate and consistent with my aesthetic goals compounds the difficulte. Not to mention the financial and physical challenge of hauling something to my apartment or being home Monday-Friday during the day to accept a delivery.

Aside: why do furniture stores for Manhattanites even sell full-sized couches and dining tables? Surely
# of shoebox apartments > # of properly proportioned apartments here, non?

Aaanyway, to add more financial insult to financial injury and more hassle to hassle, my existing possessions are deteriorating rapidly (see earlier post entitled "10-year replacement cycle"). Case in point: my down comforter. I woke up one chilly November morning to find my bed and person covered in loose feathers. Covered! Tarred and feathered, minus the tar. It was as if a gaggle of girls had taken over my bedroom under the cover of night and thrown the archetypal slumber party. I wonder how many secrets got whispered behind hands and into ears that night. I hope it was a lot, and I hope they were juicy because otherwise I'm suffering for nought.

Oh my god. It was such an utter desastre in my apartment and covered me so completely from head to toe in feathers that I had two, count 'em TWO strangers who saw me that morning inquire as to what on earth happened to me.

Ugh. Fortunately, today, I finally purchased a new comforter. Now, if I could just get my hands on a decent broom.