num skull

I like to think of myself as an optimist, if a cynical one. But I often find evidence of pessimism. And quite honestly, I am a worrier. And sometimes, when something little goes wrong, it doesn’t take me too many mental steps to arrive at a worst-case scenario.

Last night, I had a bit of trouble with a website interface involving typing text into a field on the page. I thought maybe it was a browser issue, and didn’t think too much of it. Everything else seemed to be working fine on my laptop. Then this morning, soon after I opened my laptop to check email and so forth (read: see if any one left any comments on the blog…), I found I couldn’t type. Almost none of the keys on the keyboard were working. I sort of tried a bunch of keys at random, and all that showed up on my screen (in various applications I tried) were a few numbers. Crap. I thought there must be something wrong with the laptop. I mean it’s going on 4 years old. Did this signify imminent laptop death? I could still use the mouse, so I thought maybe I should back up my data. But what if my data files were already corrupted, and then I’d overwrite my last backup? So I thought, maybe I should just restart. But then I was a afraid that, without being able to use the keyboard, I wouldn’t be able to even log in again. So I closed up my laptop to wait for reinforcements to deal with the issue. After the reinforcements woke up and had a swig of morning diet coke, I related my fears of laptop catastrophe. After running a battery of in-depth diagnostics (well, he opened my laptop and looked), John helped me make the discovery that there was a little green light below the “f6” key. A key that also bears the text “num lock.”

Almost 4 years with this laptop, and I never noticed I had a numbers lock? Doh!

blogbrain

Here it is. January 1, 2007. After 11:00 p.m. And I really should be going to bed. But the compulsion…compels. It’s this damn blog a-callin’ to me. Now I’ve discovered a new toy I need to get for it: a real site meter. (I’m apparently missing out on all sorts of fun potential for…knowledge.) Plus I’ve got several posts in progress that I’d like to finish, some of them in my kick-ass women project. I even have more to say on the subject of pants. And then the idea has come up a couple of times that this is a time of year when people write resolutions. Hey, I could write resolutions. (That sounds like a list, and I love lists.)

But I’ve told myself I shouldn’t work on this blog until I’ve finished a particular task. Namely, to finish writing those thank you notes. “Wow,” you may be thinking. “She’s so organized to be already almost finished with her thank you notes.” But I’m not talking about thank you notes from this past big holiday. I’m talking about thank you notes for presents people gave for Phoebe’s birth. Um. That was more than 10 months ago. I’m not sure what the etiquette is in this matter. It’s a question I’d rather not find the answer to. But I’ve made up an answer: finish the notes in the same calendar year as her birth. As of yesterday, I had 25 notes left to go. I’ve managed to get through 10 of them. And I’ve decided to flub the date on the last few, as long as I can get them mailed by tomorrow. Which strikes a bit like a retroactive resolution. I think perhaps this type of resolution may be easier to achieve than the ones for the future. Perhaps that is what I’ll do instead of a list of 2007 resolutions. I’ll make a list of resolutions for 2006. Carefully selected to make me feel like I’ve accomplished some goals.

Okay. I really must get back to those letters. 15 left to go. (Does it count if I just write the date on the top of each of them?) I told myself I wouldn’t post until I finished writing them. (This one doesn’t count, does it?)

reduce, reuse, regift

Not so long ago, I wrote a post with a list of so-called “gift ideas.” Sparked by late night desperation (the realization that I largely hadn’t even started my holiday shopping) and fueled by procrastination, I came up with a list of gift suggestions. Things you could buy at a grocery or drug store, or find lying around the house. I was being silly. But here’s the secret. I wasn’t entirely joking. While I’m not suggesting that you give your aunt antacids or your uncle dishsoap, I do think it makes more sense to give gifts that are at least useful, even if not traditionally gifted. Here’s what I’ve been realizing more and more about our (US) culture:

  1. people have far too much stuff
  2. these days, most people I know will buy stuff that they want, unless it’s something too expensive (and then you won’t be able to give it to them either)
  3. so often people end up buying gifts for people just for the sake of giving them

Just walk into any store this time of year, and you’ll see aisles full of items that few people would buy for themselves: cheaply produced electronics, gaudy decorations, novelty items. All of them bulky and largely useless in all their bulky and wasteful packaging. Their primary purpose is to be gifted: bought, wrapped, given, unwrapped, perhaps played with or admired briefly. And then what? (Stored, stashed, trashed…) But people get desperate when they run out of time, or don’t know someone’s tastes too well. I know all too well. It’s so easy to fall into holiday shopping traps.

Don’t get me wrong. I do enjoy both giving and receiving (some) gifts. But all too often gift-giving and gift-receiving can become a burden. It becomes downright wasteful. So over the last few years, I’ve been trying to rethink the way I do my holiday shopping. A woman I work with has mentioned her niece to me a couple of times, a woman whose slogan as far as gifts go is “if I can’t eat it, wear it or put it in my pocket, I don’t want it.” Such wonderful and simple guidelines.

So here’s what I’ve been trying to do for my own holiday shopping dilemmas (that is, for those times when I haven’t found a gift that I know a particular person will want, or that I really want to give):

  • keep it small. As in physically small. At least this way the packaging and burden of storage are minimized.
  • comestibles: food or drink
  • donations, such as to Heifer International
  • things that have some value for resale or donation: books, cds, dvds
  • I’ve really learned to appreciate gift cards: minimal packaging and size, and the person can pick out something they would likely buy anyway
  • And while it’s traditionally been considered tacky to regift, I have this dream that this attitude will change. (I suppose the tackiness of regifting is to give someone a gift that you didn’t like, and want to get rid of. But that’s not the sort of regifting I have in mind.) There’s a company, wrapsacks, that makes cloth gift bags that are designed to be reused. They are not only beautiful and “planet-friendly,” but they have the added feature that their journey (from recipient to recipient) can be tracked online. (If I’d been more organized, I would have done more of my holiday shopping, or at least wrapping, from them…)

    I’ve thought it would be wonderful to have other items that were more-or-less meant to be regifted: they could develop a history, be enjoyed year after year by different people. A book, a box, an ornament, perhaps. The giver could add a personal touch (a date, a name, a location, a drawing or a photo…), and then the recipient could either give it back to the original giver another year (adding their own bit), or pass it on to someone else.