Well girls and boys, here we are – exactly one week from starting my little Get It Together experiment. Fittingly it’s another dreary Wednesday and you may (or may not) be surprised to learn that I am still in my yoga pants and have yet to brush my hair. In my defense, I have a ton of housework to do today and housework, I’m sad to say, does not go well with heels and lipstick. Okay? Okay.
So a week ago, I looked in the mirror and decided I really needed to get my act together before my advancing slobdom (it’s a word – I just invented it) took over my life completely. Little did I know that it would resonate with so many people and I have been overwhelmed by the response to my somewhat neurotic musings over the past week. It has also been … suggested … I might like to take this slightly wider. That perhaps I have the voice needed to engage a particular conversation that needs to be had.
Angsty Ange is sitting in a corner and sucking her thumb at the mere thought of this – let’s call it a project for now shall we? – and to be honest, I’m not sure yet she’s not right. However, I have spent the last 22 years of my life trying to teach the three most important human beings in my life – The Offspring – to stand up for what they believe in, to be honest with themselves and those around them, to be as brave as they can be when needed, and whenever possible to help others. So I find myself, yoga pants and all, having to decide whether or not I am going to ask those three human beings to do as I dictate or as I do.
Yes okay technically it’s day *frantic counting of fingers* six – but we’re all friends here right? So if I tell you I simply had an extended Day 3 to allow everyone (including me) some breathing space, we’ll all be good with that right? Good – moving right along.
Today was an odd day – it didn’t seem to matter what I did – the last thing I was doing was getting it together (and how long before I’m going to have to change the name of this blog I wonder?). No matter how hard I tried today, Angsty Ange seemed to have the upper hand. Ever had days like that? Where you can’t get out of your own way? God, please tell me it’s not just me or I may be forced to hunt out my pink yoga pants and huddle in a corner.
So what happened?
Well, nobody ever said change was easy. Or comfortable. In fact, by definition, change tends to be very uncomfortable. Especially when the change involves challenging habits and ideas you’ve been cultivating for quite some time. Usually these habits are, in my experience, the ones that while comfortable don’t really serve any useful purpose.
I suppose that is why there are so many self-help books on the market. Not to mention my bookshelves. Oh yes, I have almost an entire book case devoted to these things. Everything from the ones suggesting I should get on and do things I’m afraid of to the ones telling me that if I declutter my house, my butt will shrink.
And today, I find myself wondering if in fact I am as fearful, disorganized, cluttered, or as incapable as these books would have me believe.
I have to admit I was a little surprised at the reaction to yesterday’s blog and my little experiment. To my surprise – and to some extent sadness – I seem to have hit a nerve. I have had a bit of feedback from men and women on the topic of a) fear and how it stops us from achieving and b) appearance. Not only does Angsty Ange seem to have a lot of company in Mirror Land but - this concerns me far more – she and her buddies are setting far too many of the rules.
As I said yesterday, this isn’t just about physical appearance, make up, or clothes – although yesterday’s post was certainly focused on that. It’s about learning to set our own rules for success and then following them. It’s about learning to be true to ourselves rather than trying to fit somebody else’s idea of who or what we should be.
So, I’ve decided to embark on a little experiment, that for a wide variety of reasons I am going to conduct in a very public (and no doubt embarrassing – but hell what else is new?) way. There will be some among you who will roll your eyes and mutter things about my lack of depth, my questionable taste, and probably my sanity. I am quite sure each and every one of you will be right. But I don’t give a rat’s behind. Here’s why: I need to Get.It.Together.
There appears to be a lot of conversation (I’m trying to be polite today)at the moment around YA books, how good they may or may not be, and whether anybody over the age of 17 should read them. It’s an interesting subject considering the rising popularity over the past five years in the genre. From Twilight to The Fault in Our Stars, passing by The Hunger Games, Divergent, et al – everywhere you look there is a book aimed at teenagers. Or a movie based on a book aimed at teenagers.
Many of the arguments both for and against don’t just apply to YA however. For the main part, they apply to Popular Literature in general.
On the rare occasions The Man of The House (TMoTH) and I have friends around, dinner conversation invariably turns to music. Kind of hard not to with the amount of Springsteen memorabilia around the place, but that’s by the by. Inevitably someone will say, as they’re reaching for their wine glass, “so, Angel, do you listen to anyone other than The Boss?” There then ensues polite chuckling from everyone and generally a slightly distressed look from TMoTH. You see, this conversation never ends well and we both know it. I just can’t help myself – I’m always driven to tell the truth – and it’s there that things go pear shaped. I am, I admit, somewhat odd when it comes to music.
by Charlotte Everett
ANZAC Day often takes on a new significance for Aussies and Kiwis living in Europe, and for many, the time will arrive when the decision is made make a pilgrimage to Gallipoli.
Last year, I decided that for me, this would be the year.
An unexpected turn of events came about, when – before I’d even had a chance to look at Gallipoli tour options – a friend happened to mention to me that she and her husband were going to spend ANZAC on the Western Front instead. The Western Front? I had to confess, I knew very little about it. I thought it was a bit odd that a Kiwi couple would choose to go there over Gallipoli. My friend explained: “Gallipoli was amazing. But from what I’ve heard, the Western Front is mind-blowing. It’s something else entirely.”