de-cluttering that guy's life

today i donated a big box of books to a local charity that re-sells used books. those of you who know me well, or who have read this blog for a while, won't be surprised to hear that this was difficult for me. i love my books. i re-read some of them over and over again. some of my books are among my most prized possessions.

so today when i handed over a box of almost 30 of them, it felt like i was losing something dear to me. it felt like losing a child -- except, since i made a thoughtful decision about each book that i gave up, i guess it was more like having an abortion, or putting a child i don't really like up for adoption.

i feel really good about my book abortion. i made some difficult but well-reasoned choices. a compulsive book hoarder, i had to finally be honest with myself about which books i would re-read at some point in the future. some books, though enjoyable reads, are simply not worthy of a re-read, no matter how bored i might be in the future. every Nicholas Sparks novel i am embarrassed to have owned fits into this category, and they're now in a better place.

on the other hand, i had to keep several books on my shelf even though i didn't enjoy them the first time around: books like Kerouac's "On The Road" and Joyce's "A Portrait of the Artist as a Young Man."

i didn't feel any connection to these books when i read them, despite wanting to get them and enjoy them. i decided to keep the books, among several others, with the hope that they'll speak to me differently the next time i pick them up.

after my book drop-off, i continued my Humanitarian of the Year tour by donating a huge IKEA bag full of gently worn clothing to The Salvation Army. but i don't want to tell you about that right now because i fear that your praise and admiration will fill my blog with too many comments. of course i appreciate the feedback, but i don't want Blogger.com to crash. once again, i'm so selfless...


but seriously now. all of my amazing acts of philanthropy are just another step in my quest to be more mindful, which i mentioned last week. for me, an important part of being present and mindful is letting go of clutter and unnecessary STUFF. it's amazing how STUFF, be it an item of clothing or a book, can carry with it vivid memories and lingering emotions.

i have a few more closets to clean out as the month continues.

not on the corner of First and Amistad

this morning i caught myself feeling quite unreligious (irreligious? my spell-check doesn't hate that one as much.) when i remembered that today is Good Friday. i simultaneously remembered that i didn't give anything up for Lent, i didn't get Ash Wednesdays smeared on my forehead (sensitive pores! the Pope would understand.), and - oh yeah - i haven't been to church in two years.

so as i went about my day, i thought about what a GCB i used to be and about how far i've strayed. i decided to be sensitive and mindful throughout the day, looking for god all around me. i should do so every day, because it's a very nice perspective from which to view the world around you.

i'll add that it's probably much easier on a perfectly lovely Spring day. maybe even easier in a place like picturesque New Hope, where i spent the day wandering the streets, eating unhealthily, and taking in the sunshine. as i did so, i found god all around me:

• waking up early after a good night's sleep with all the windows wide open.
• Mr. Finch all up in my grill and purring like crazy. that almost never happens.
  
• the little boys feeding potato chips to the uninterested ducks and explaining to mom that the ducks really do prefer chips over bread crumbs.
• the pub that was crowded at 11 AM and had the best selection of sandwiches and burgers. and fried things. mmm fried things...
  
• the gaggle of old trannies dressed up like they were going to church. i think they were having a say-something hat day! bless their hearts.
• the very slight sunburn i got, like a kiss from Jesus, welcoming me to Spring after a long, snowy, and vacationless (read: ghostly pale) winter.
• listening to a friend's relationship woes and realizing that, for better or for worse, i have no comparable complaints -- for the first time in a long time.
• arriving home to some pretty great mail for the second time in a week. thanks, mr. postman! i love you too!
  

that's where i found god today.


in related news, my personal goal/quest for April is to be more mindful as i go about my days and weeks. more on that later.

what are we listening to today?

the original Forever Young is one of my all-time favorite songs, and y'all know i'm a huge fan of covers.

this one is pretty cool, as Jay-Z puts his own spin on the classic:






Thanks, Em!

muller says...

To forgive is the highest, most beautiful form of love. In return, you will receive untold peace and happiness.

dear anonymous

to the unnamed person who sent me this hand-drawn card in the mail,

thank you. thank you. thank you.

this made my day. you really have no idea.

love,

Matthew

quote of the week, thus far

"Calm down, it will all come together."

-my mom, texting me about the potatoes i was cooking. or maybe she was talking about life in general.

stuff sweet stuff

it's one of those idle Sundays when my only wish is that i had a copy of "13 Going on 30" on DVD. you know the kind of day i'm talking about. i'm slightly hung over, far too tired to nap, and trying to stay up until a reasonable to-bed hour.

i'm exhausted. i went to an out-of-town housewarming party yesterday, which really doesn't sound that tiring, does it? but silly me, i started drinking with friends on the train to DC at 10 AM, then kept drinking off and on until i passed out at midnight. apparently everyone else at the party went out to bars. i just went to bed. and this morning all i wanted was to be at home.

too bad Amtrak wanted me to pay almost $100 to get home. too bad my dear frenemy, Ketel One, was still coursing through my poor, tired veins all morning. too bad the Chinatown bus was the only reasonable option -- though, in retrospect, my travel companion and i both agreed that we should've just paid for the train, because the Chinatown bus is always disgusting and full of horrible people. on today's ride, i witnessed an unhappy young thug threaten the bus driver midway through the ride, after which he yelled at another passenger. lovely. i just. wanted. to get. home.

"what are you rushing back for?" my friend with the warmed house asked. "you have nothing to do!"

"i just need to go home. i want to be home," i sort of explained. i know, it's not much of an explanation.


a dear friend from my hometown always harps on me for my short visits home. "you need to spend more than two nights at home! it's Christmas, for god's sake!" she'll scream, like clockwork, every winter. usually she also throws in, "your mother misses you. you need to come for a longer visit." my response to Cassifrass has become a joke between us over the past few years: "i need to go back to Philly. that's where my STUFF is." i'm pretty sure she now uses that sort-of explanation with her own mother: "because that's where my STUFF is!"

my friend in DC was right. i really have nothing to do, nor did i have a reason to rush back home, other than because my STUFF is here. but i think that's reason enough. my black pussy is here. my couch is here. my pillows are here. my clothes are here. my Ped Egg is here.

and right now i want to spend some quiet time with my STUFF. me and my couch. Attipuss will sit close-by. and if Jesus loves me, "13 Going on 30" is OnDemand.

dickens says...

It was one of those March days when the sun shines hot and the wind blows cold: when it is summer in the light, and winter in the shade.

mcbeal says...

Maybe I'll share my life with somebody... maybe not.
But the truth is, when I think back on my loneliest moments, there was usually somebody sitting there next to me.

The real truth is, I probably don't want to be too happy or content. Because, then what?

I actually like the quest, the search. That's the fun: the more lost you are, the more you have to look forward to.

What do you know? I'm having a great time and I don't even know it.

my hero, part IV

another excerpt from Chelsea Chelsea Bang Bang -- this one not so much because it's funny, but because Chels and i feel exactly the same way about LOL.

god, i hate LOL...

I typed in my address and asked her where the wedding was.

"At Mercedes's."

"The dealership?"

"LOL!!!"

I wasn't joking, but I quickly lost interest in the conversation due to the fact that despite having spoken to Lydia at great length about misplaced enthusiasm, she insisted on using exclamation points in lieu of periods and continued pairing them with my least favorite invention, LOL. You wouldn't say LOL if you were out to lunch with someone, so why would you write it in an instant message or an e-mail? Just laugh alone in your office or house. I don't need to be notified that you're laughing. If someone is busy laughing, then how do they have the time to be typing the letters LOL?

"it's a sign!"

last night i had a very vivid dream that my buddy A and i were at a career fair, and there were some VERY important people hiring.

first, James Cameron approached me and asked if i would work on "Avatar 2." while i was talking to him, however, Randy Jackson interrupted and expressed an interest in hiring me and A. i wasn't as interested, so i went back to discussing a job with Cameron, who simply dominated my time and attention the rest of the afternoon.

at 5 PM, i realized that the career fair was ending and that i hadn't talked to the one person for whom i REALLY wanted to work: Chelsea Handler. fortunately i caught Chels just as she was packing up her booth. she thought i was funny because i was "so gay," and she agreed to look at my resume on one condition: she really wanted the "Precious" soundtrack, and she expected me to buy it for her.

a pretty successful career fair. too bad it was just a dream.


THEN, in real life, today a paralegal at my old firm, Sandy, who is one of my favorite humans, told me about a job fair being held here in Philly tomorrow...

coincidence??!?!?



.....probably. i'm not going.

so they could stand love

There is a story about the Greek gods; they were bored, so they invented human beings. But they were still bored so they invented love. Then they weren't bored any longer.

So they decided to try love for themselves.

And finally, they invented laughter, so they could stand it.

postsecret

i promise you, kid

and somehow i know that it'll all turn up
you'll make me work so we can work to work it out
and i promise you, kid
i'll give so much more than i get
i just haven't met you yet

5 years ago i was obsessed with Michael Buble's "It's Time." it was my soundtrack for London and Spring 2005 in general.

between then and now, somehow i forgot how up-beat and sweet his music is. i'm putting him back in heavy rotation for a couple days.

MUST LOVE CAT

last night as i gave a friend some advice about his misadventures in online dating, i began to think about the online dating profile.

when it comes to finding your perfect match electronically, the profile is everything. it's more important than the first date or the first kiss. it is your first impression, and you get to make only one before a potential lover quickly decides whether to navigate away or to message you. because of its immeasurable impact, the online dating profile is very difficult and time-consuming to create.

we put out there on the internets these versions of ourselves that we think will be attractive, and not too terribly misleading, to the kind of people we want to meet. when joining a dating site, each of us becomes our own personal public relations agent. but if we were to be perfectly honest, i think our profiles would look a lot different.

for example, if i were looking for my future husband and putting no PR spin on my profile, it would probably start out with:

MUST LOVE CAT

kinda like that movie Must Love Dogs, which stars one of my faves, Diane Lane, but which somehow i've never seen. notice, however, that my profile would read not "Must Love CatS" but "Must Love Cat." only one cat: my cat. mon chat noir, for you Spanish-speakers out there.

if i find a guy who loves my asshole demon of a cat as much as i do, i will marry him and give him my ATM pin and even forgive horrible boyfriend sins like wearing shoes in the living room, or dropping minute crumbs on the sofa while i'm watching him eat, or throwing inside-out socks into the laundry. (an aside: i'm no laundry nazi, but socks have to be turned right-side-out eventually, and I'M usually the one who does it when i'm folding those clothes!!! just do it when you take them off, potential future boyfriend!! ). i don't know how any guy could resist me...

as i was saying, MUST LOVE CAT. my atticus is a dream; to the outside observer, however, he seems like a nightmare. maybe because if you're nice to him, he will bite you. alternatively, if you ignore him, he might bite you. and if you try to walk through a doorway while he's lying therein, or near there, he might bite you. he has back claws that he knows are extremely sharp, and he kicks like Chuck Norris. i'm currently healing from one of his very innocent kicks, the wound from which caused people at a party last week to question whether i'm a cutter. this looks so much better than it did two weeks ago:


my Atticus is moody, unpredictable, aggressive, and unlike any cat i've ever met. and i love him. he's the most beautiful thing i own, and i often laugh out loud at his ridiculousness. i don't care if he's crazy. he sleeps on my legs when it's cold, and he bites me through the blankets if i twitch. like a faithful lapdog, he always sits beside me when i read and when i blog. except he gives me the side eye every time i move or selfishly breathe too loudly, disrupting his nap:


basically, i think he's heaven, even when he acts like Satan. if only i could meet a man with a sense of humor who agrees.

and that's what my really honest dating profile might say. i can't help but wonder what kind of guy would respond positively to that.


actually... i probably don't want to find out.