How NOT to Project 333

This is what my closet looked like two weeks ago.

 I thought I had culled and donated as much as I possibly could. But I was still overwhelmed. Getting dressed in the mornings took forever. I'd go to bed at night, actively trying to plan my outfit for the next day, only to find I didn't have time to iron or my dream outfit was too tight.  I also felt an obligation to wear everything in my closet (and dresser. There's a dresser involved as well.) I'd heard the old addage, "You only wear 20% of your clothes 80% of the time." Well, not me. I loved all my clothes equally and would wear them as such.  Only I don't LOVE all my clothes. Some things are itchy, or don't fit, or aren't really ME. But I felt like they all needed equal attention.About a year ago, we put our 3000sf house on the market. I had to pack up all my photos and sentimental items to "stage" the house for sale. Our attic was filled to the rim. I gave away clothes and had a yard sale. As the months passed, I kept looking around and thinking I still had way too much stuff to pack up should the house sell. Even though we took the house off the market, I still felt like I was being smothered by all the things I didn't need. I cleaned out the attic and the kitchen and luckily I didn't have too much clutter to deal with. The more blogs I read about decluttering, though, the more I read about Project 333 and my closet felt stifling. I thought, "There's no way I can live with only 33 items of clothing." But the more I read, the more I wanted to see how low I could get. Two weeks ago, I took the plunge. Here's my closet now: 

        

Here's everything I did wrong:

1.  I didn't count shoes and jewelry. You are given a pass on workout clothes, underwear, and pajamas, but not shoes and jewelry. I didn't think I could make a small wardrobe work without the extra shoe and jewelry options. I'm realizing that's not the case. My lifestyle is a little different than when I felt like I needed flashy shoes and accessories and I just don't like them anymore. I'm going to get rid of a bunch soon like earring that are too heavy and bracelets that are too noisy.
2. I went over the 33 item limit. I ended up saving about 50 things. I also made the mistake of asking my husband to put my 6 (six!) bags of clothes that didn't make it into the attic and of course, he didn't. So the first day, I had a panic and went straight for the bags, pulling things out. I had a "come to Jesus" moment though and put everything back (in the bags, not the closet.) I also put the bags in the attic myself so I didn't have that option again.
3. Last weekend, my sister sent 3 bags of clothes to my daughter. Looking at all the boutique and high-end cast-offs, I kept a few things for myself. I never said I was an image of self-control.
4. I kept too many "fantasy" items. These are things I bought because I wanted to be the kind of person who wore them. A JCrew dress and Anthropologie dress, to be specific. I paid a lot for them, and really like them, but I can see I'm not going to wear them. I've got a business trip coming up and if I can't bring myself to pack them, they're going to have to go. 

Even though I consider myself deficient, I don't consider myself a failure. Here's why:

1. I still got rid of a boat-load of stuff. Besides the 6 (six!) space bags full of stuff in the attic, I also sent 3 (three!) garbage bags of stuff to charity. My dresser is almost completely empty except for pj's and workout stuff and underwear and you've seen my closet.
2. I'm getting rid of things that stayed. Those fantasy dresses, a t-shirt with awkward sleeves, stuff that doesn't fit, jewelry that hasn't been in style since the early part of the century, yes the 2000's! (for shame!)
3. I haven't taken any more stuff out. I switched a few dress pants for jeans when I got the opportunity to start working from home, but (except for my sister's stuff) the overall count has gone down, not up.
4. I'm figuring out my style. Luckily, that seems to be French casual. I've got navy stripes, boatnecks, and a trench coat. Flats, white tees, jeans, and leather pants(!) and I love them all. For the longest time, I wore mostly preppy clothes. Polos, colored jeans, "mom" clothes, and I never felt like "me." I looked ok, and I thought that was what counted. Well, now I want to look Good and FEEL Good. Goodbye capris and flip flops!

I'm going to be honest, P333 isn't for everyone, but it SHOULD be. There are so many reasons to cut down on our consumerism, from ecological and human rights issues, to freeing ourselves from the chains of the earning-spending cycle. I hope one day I can get my wants down to only my needs so I can free up my time for living instead of spending-earning. I want to be able to pack up and move without having to rent a whole caravan of moving vans and I definitely don't want my kids to have to deal with an overwhelming bunch of crap should something happen to me. It's going to be a journey, but I'm packing light.

Six Word Book Review: The Color of Magic by Terry Pratchett

I see what you did there...

Some Old Birthday Party Pics

These are from Jackson's 6th birthday. We made the Lightning McQueen out of rice crispies and covered it in fondant. It looked really good until we put it on the cake and then it broke in two right as guests started arriving. Oh well...

In Reverence to Mental Health Month

The following is a journal entry I wrote today on having Bipolar Disorder and being in the middle of an episode. I thought it needed to be public.

I am lost. I’m sitting at my desk with a paper next to me and a couple of books in my head and I can’t figure out how to move my brain to address any of those issues. I’ve got a sudden longing to be home, raising my kids. But I can’t trust that any of my feelings are real. I was too trustful in 2007 when I dropped everything to return to the classroom so I could be nearer my children on holidays and Margaret could attend pre-k with me every day. I came home after the first day and wept, because I knew I made a huge mistake.

It worked out ok in the end. Everything does, really. Nothing stays horrible forever. But, God, was it horrible. I don’t know why my brain goes back there so often. I re-live the regret, the fear, and the shame of trusting feelings that were so strong, but still betrayed me in the end. And I feel bad for the students who got a really bad teacher that year.

I feel like I can’t trust anything right now. I’m afraid to take any challenges. I don’t know what I want, and today I’m not really sure who I am. I’m a tangle of hormones, neurons, medications, chemistry and biology, all mixing together in a bubbling cauldron. All of them plotting to keep me alive, or possibly destroy me at any time. They say treating mental illness is a delicate balance. They don’t explain that what it really means is that there is a small window of success and otherwise a whole mess of fear, loathing, loneliness, and paralysis.

There are things I know: I am relatively healthy and successful, I have everything I could ever need and then some. I have a supportive husband and smart, beautiful, and mostly well-behaved and well-adjusted children. But still my mind stirs and whirls in a tornado of expectations and false deadlines. My brain tells me I need to do everything. It tells me I want everything. It tells me I hate my job and love my job. It tells me I need to move to New England.

However, it also tells me I am enough. I do enough. I have enough.

I’d like to trust the positive assessments, but my mind has lied to me before, in spectacular fashion. I can’t trust it. It does not have my best interest at heart. It beats me down and then flatters me like an abusive spouse. It sets up a list of obstacles, disguised as achievements that I need to accomplish so I can be whole; then it steps on my shoelaces as I try to move forward.

I think I could trust the medication if I knew it was the one handing out the script, but the hormones and neurons and past experiences that trigger responses like Pavlov’s dog are wonderful actors. Wonderful frauds like the hypocritical preachers in mega churches that ask you for money and tell you you’re going to hell and that predict the end of the world on Tuesday or that God will strike them down unless they get a new Mercedes. So convincing, but never having your best interest in mind.

Such is bipolar disorder. It is always having to look over your shoulder (inside your head) and wondering if the thoughts you have are real or just the hype of a mania, or complaints of a depression.  It’s a constant worry that your medication may have betrayed you this time and you’re going to hedge a bet on false information. It’s never being able to trust yourself or find the real you. It’s being lost while knowing exactly where you are- or not…

Before and After

Scored a neat organizer from the best Grad Assistant in the world who is moving out to Oregon to change the world.  I think it looks much better than my previous system, which was "pile everything onto a cork board and pray it doesn't fall."

Sean suggested I paint it, and I just might.  I'll see if I can figure out how to make it look distressed first.

iPhone4 Case on the Cheap

My old, clear iPhone case was getting yellow so I figured it was time for a new one.  It's amazing how much people charge for these things.  So I broke out the old Mod Podge and some leftover Amy Butler scrapbooking paper I had lying around and covered the outside of the case.

 
The paper was double-sided, so it shows through on the inside.

 I covered the buttons and they still work fine.  I just covered between the holes for connections so I wouldn't have to cut them all out.  Of course, I cut out the oval for the camera hole.It hasn't really been kid-tested yet, but it seems like it's pretty sturdy.  The Mod Podge makes the case a little stiff, so it's hard to get the phone out, but not impossible.

Fake Cannonball

I'm a little late on this, but I'm taking a break from writing the grant from hell.  The research office is about to burn me in effigy because I'm causing them much headache.

Last week I read "The Strangely Beautiful Tale of Miss Percy Parker."  It's one of those where you see the ending coming right off, and the heroine was a little off-putting to me.  The romance was a lot better than Soulless, however.  The forbidden love was more believable and you were really rooting for them to get together, but Percy Parker was really a wimp.  I wouldn't expect Superwoman, but hell (spoiler) she really should have had more backbone considering her backstory.  Overall, it's a good read.  Finished it in one long night.

And, just for the hell of it, here's a Chupacabra.

Fake Cannonball

Last weekend I read Souless by Gail Carriger.  It's Steampunky supernatural and British, but there's no teenage angst.  The love affair misdirections between the two leads did take long to resolve, but otherwise it was a good, easy read.

And, here's some cake!
This was for my Aunt's wedding a few weeks ago. Yup, that's camo!

2 Books for the Fake Cannonball

I've been reading a bunch of comics, which is eating away at my regular reading time.
This week I did get to finish two young adult novels that were very gripping and well-written.  Both are by Neil Gaimon (well, one is Gaimon and some other guy I forgot.)
"The Graveyard Book" and "Interworld" I highly recommend.  They can be pretty scary and vary sad for a young adult novel, but I'm starting to realize kids can handle a lot more than we'd like to think they can.  I even suggested my mom, who teaches high school English, suggest these to her students as an antidote to all the damage Twilight has no doubt inflicted on their poor, impressionable minds.

Dear Tom Cruise

You are trying way to hard.  And, you are crazy. Please stop.
Sincerely,
s