Lists For No Reason #3: Things I Have Lost

1) My first pair of glasses. Electric blue, with tiny rectangular frames. The last day I remember having them, I was at a cafe with some friends, celebrating the last day of the 5th (or 6th?) grade. Then after I lost them, I had to wear my backup glasses, which were this light purple color and oddly football shaped. Terrible decision. Kids, go with black for your first pair of glasses. Both pairs. And don't let your dad rush you through the decision making process. Frames ARE important. It's an accessory that lives on your face, and if you lose a pair, tiny purple footballs are flattering to NOBODY. Except maybe Emma Stone. Or Emma Watson. Everything looks good on the Emmas.

2) The sweatshirts.

a) The pink one. I was ten or so, and it was a hot pink sweatshirt with like a turtlenecky neck...Something like this grey one, but like a serious shade of pink. This pink was not messing around.  It was about four sizes too big for me, this being the 90s. I also wore it with stirrup leggings at least once.

This was my anti-pink phase, so it was weird that I even liked this sweatshirt, let alone LOVED it. I think it was too comfortable to rebel against.

b) The turquoise velour one. I left it in my high school library.

c) The black one with the tan splattery/swirly paint pattern across the front. That thing fit perfectly, and it had frayed cuffs and no fleece on the inside, just that nice worn cotton. It was a wardrobe staple. I have no idea where I lost it, but it was a bittersweet goodbye... I knew I would have to get rid of it soon, given that it was falling apart and I was starting to discover that a person often looks less like a cartoon character when they don't wear the same zip up hoodie every single day. But still. It was there for me through so much, and it always gave off the perfect vibe of nonchalant artsyness.

3) Socks & hair pins. I swear there is a gremlin living somewhere in my house with very warm feet, rocking a killer updo. Considering that I live with my family, he also probably gets into bars using my brother's old ID and reads a lot of important tax documents with flowery +2.5 reading glasses.

4) The things my parents have gotten rid of. I know this doesn't really count as me losing stuff, but it FEELS like loss, okay?!

a) That doll I used to play with in the bathtub. I include her out of respect for my eight-year-old self, who used to frantically search for her in the basket of tub toys (yeah, we had a whole basket of tub toys, go judge someone your own size) only to give up, hoping she would appear someday among Esau's hot wheels and my Barbies. Though I no longer remember her name, I am certain it was beautiful. As was her little purple tail. (Did I mention she was a plastic mermaid?)

b) My Cinderella cup. It was one of those ones where there were two layers of sides, so that it was a sort of snow globe. It had sparkles, it had stars, and it had Cinderella. (SARAH'S mom didn't throw out HER old Disney cups.)

c) The conversion van. Granted, this was never actually mine. But it was awesome. I could revolve my seat all the way around, and it had a built-in TV. With channels. And a VCR. And a seat in the far back that RECLINED ALL THE WAY INTO A BED. Best road trip vehicle EVER. And I do not recall being consulted when my parents traded it in. Er, sold it off the driveway. Scrapped it? Damn, where did that thing go?

5) The Best Jeans Ever. They were Levis. Bootcut. Size 3. These are technically still in my possession, but...they have had a pair of scissors taken to them and I don't know if they will ever walk as pants again. Why, you ask? I'll tell you.

I was in my seventeenth year. I was taking a tap class in which we were dancing to "Another One Bites The Dust" by Queen. The costume was t-shirts that one of my classmates graffitied with our names, ripped jeans, and a chain attached to our ankles. (It was actually pretty badass. Or at least I thought so.) Our teacher asked us to bring in jeans so he could rip the living hell out of them. Yes, I knew what was coming. I just didn't expect the emotional turmoil that became the fallout of watching someone I loved, respected, and had seen fart purposefully into other dance classrooms on numerous occasions (the man has skills), tear apart my most comfortable pair of pants.

Let me be clear: If you ever, for any reason, are thinking of getting rid of, or further ruining, a pair of PERFECTLY BROKEN-IN JEANS that fit your butt IN THE BEST POSSIBLE WAY and hit your ankles IN EXACTLY THE RIGHT PLACE just because they have ONE RIP in the knee, DON'T DO IT. The regrets involved are too high a price to pay.

Since this trauma suffered at the hands of a pair of craft scissors, I have worn the jeans only once: at the dance recital in which I performed said number with all the badassery of Freddy Mercury himself. (I may have worn them again at the premier of RENT, which I went to as Mimi. With fishnets underneath. We don't really have to talk about that.) They now sit in the bottom of my closet, waiting to be patched in some crazy funky way or turned into a comfortable pair of shorts whenever I am brave enough to face them or have time to take on a craft project that requires reliving heartache. Which will probably be never.

And no, since you ask, I have not yet found a pair of jeans that fit that perfectly, though I have searched high and low (i.e. Gap and Salvation Army).

Now, if you will excuse me, I will dry my tears and get on with my ridiculous life. Thank you for your sympathy.

How I Feel About Turning 23

Forewarning: On the range of physical positions in which I write (from sitting up at my desk to lying propped up on an elbow in bed, typing with one finger), I'm already slouched against my headboard, half-squinting to see the screen. So this post may be somewhat lacking in coherency.


How I Feel About Turning 23 In Late Night Thoughts:

Is my metabolism going to slow down now?
I have the best friends!
Future????!??!?!
I should phase "awesome sauce" out of my vocabulary soon.
Definitely time to start that craft business on the Internet.
Opan Gangnam Style!
23 is a prime number. Adds up to five. Also, two more years until I'm my birthday on my birthday. 
Someday I would like to see penguins in their natural habitat.

How I Feel About Turning 23 In Pictures:

More on this topic another time. GOODNIGHT. HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO ME!

Lists For No Reason #2: Five Things I Would Tell Myself If I Knew I Was Listening

Five Things I Would Tell Myself If I Knew I Was Listening:

1) Your to-cut-or-not-to-cut hair debate is boring for other people. I mean, everyone loves a good "Styles That Are Good For Your Face Shape" article, but just because your best friends have a high tolerance for your yattering does not mean that you should take advantage. Your time with them is precious. Do not waste it (or at least not often) on explaining your inner debates about layers and bangs.

2) You are probably not going to be a professional figure skater, ballerina, actress, or aerial fabric...-er. You should start the process of trying to get over that sometime soon.

3a) Life is short. Throw out the uncomfortable underwear.

3b) Picking wedgies is likely considered an unattractive quality in an intern.

4) Putting more vegetables on your plate than you used to is not actually the same thing as eating more vegetables. Also, if you are going to make New Year's Resolutions involving your diet, you should probably do some of the grocery shopping, or at the very least take stock of what is in the refrigerator on a daily basis. Food that is delicious and good for you will probably not levitate into your lunch bag. But thank you (and you're welcome) for the imagery of carrot sticks and ants-on-a-log sack racing in Ziploc bags.

5) Giving pretend interviews in the shower with Conan and Ellen about the bestselling novel-turned-hit screenplay that you just wrote is not helping you a) Get to work on time, or b) Write a bestselling novel or screenplay. Unless you are planning to write the bestselling novel or screenplay The Girl with the Delusions in the Bathtub. Also, you will probably never be interviewed by James Lipton on Inside the Actor's Studio. That is a pipe dream. Nobody cares what your favorite swear word is. Also, you are not going to be a professional actress. (See #2.) I don't even want to go into the Academy Award acceptance speech. Yes, writers sometimes get those, but from what I understand, they usually have to write a screenplay first. (See "b" of this section.)

Lists For No Reason #1: Why I Miss High School

Reasons Why I Miss High School:

1) Getting dressed mattered more. The best way I can explain this is by saying that clothes are one of my favorite things. They are my tattoos. They are my extra piercings. They are how I give off the vibe of funky/artsy/cute/elfin/demure/chic/fairylike/ future novelist. Which, in case I am unclear, is what I am attempting to do absolutely pulling off on a daily basis. Note: Work clothes and yoga pants do not count. I mean, I try really hard to make my work clothes reflect my personality, and it's not like I'm wearing pleated pantsuits in pastel colors every day, but honestly, there is just so much I can do with a dress code on some days. And if I'm in yoga pants, it means I have given up most of the way, but I have retained some pride in the fact that I am skinny and I have an okay little butt. So basically, I have very lofty fashion goals, but if I am not achieving them, assume that it's because my jobs or my athleticism are holding me back.

2) Activities. I want to take a free art class, be in a choir, play an instrument for which I take free lessons, be in a band for that instrument, and go see games where I actually feel loyalty for a team. (A short aside on why this would be significant: I am a terrible sports fan. Not only do I not understand or care what is happening, but when I do make an effort to understand and care, I always look at the TV at the wrong time. Like when the quarterback is tying his shoe or or the manager is squinting aggressively into the sun for five minutes while the analysts analyze what he might be thinking about. This is a chronic problem for me. High school was so much easier; you go, you play "La Bamba" on the flute, you have a band geek explain what "Fourth Down" means, and you are very very proud of the men in green and white. Because you, too, are wearing green and white. On your pep band windbreaker.)

3) Theatre people. I did a lot of theatre in high school. School plays, community plays, plays that were kind of like camp/classes that your parents paid for. I miss running around the Civic Center in a leotard. I miss singing all the time with people. I miss dressing rooms! Oh my God, no wonder I don't have any fun putting on my makeup anymore. I am just now realizing that it's not fun unless there are seven other girls squished into a mirror meant for three, your retinas are being burnt by forty light bulbs, and you're inadvertently in the background of another cast member's sixteen turned-around camera pictures. (Which are a lot easier these days with smartphones--just in time for them to no longer be age appropriate unless I'm drinking alcohol. Shame.) So really, I guess this one is theatre people/makeup. But mainly theatre people--they were the BEST. I'm sure they still are, I'm just no longer sure where to find them or how to fit them into my schedule when it's not "Rehearsal 9th period" anymore.

4) Buses. I actually love school buses. I'm not saying this to be cute or ironic. I'm aware that it's weird. I also got my license really late in life (this past July at the age of 22) and I'm sure this is something like Stockholm syndrome--I embraced my big yellow prison on wheels because I really had no control over my method of transportation, being afraid of operating any motor vehicle larger than a golf cart. But whatever the reasoning, I sincerely loved (and still probably would love) riding a school bus.

For one thing, my high school bus driver was insanely awesome. His name was Randy, he would wait for me at my stop, (yeah, before you judge me for not being outside at my stop on time, which I am defensive about even if you weren't gonna be judgmental about it, know this: I was the first stop in the morning. I was picked up at 6:50 am. Boom.) he had highlights and wore a leather jacket, was insanely skinny, smoked like a chimney, and had OCD. We talked about his kids and his need to get up at, like, 4 in the morning to vacuum every day. My mom made him brownies for Christmas. He was great. I wish I had his contact info, actually. We were real buddies by the end of my senior year.

Other than my everyday bus, I just loved buses in general. There's a very specific camaraderie that comes with using public transportation that is free and full of other people whose ages are within three years of yours. Where some people riding are actually friends, and you all know each other. And you all know where each other lives, but not in a creepy way. Where else does that happen?

5) (I always feel like I need at least five things in a list before it's legit.) I miss feeling well-known. Not that I had an inflated sense of self-importance in high school (or at least not any more than any other 14-18 year old) but that everyone kind of knew where I stood, and I kind of knew where everyone else stood. I was idealistic and smart and artsy and kind of a smart ass and I sucked at gym. And all of those things were assumed to a certain extent--people knew stuff about me. And I knew stuff about them. And as the Cheers theme song says...


Now, I would like to point out that any of these things could easily also be a reason why I don't miss high school at all. I love not feeling stressed out about not owning Hollister jeans, I love having my independence, and I am glad that not everybody I meet knows that I'm an unathletic Christian band geek who is completely afraid of boys. (Although on some level, I'm pretty sure I still manage to give out that vibe. If anyone knows any way to stop this, please let me know.) And as much as I miss the activities and the theatre, these are the most re-creatable things in this list--I could easily take an art class (though it wouldn't be free) and if I looked, I might be able to find a place to perform again. But I will probably never again be able to take free French Horn lessons with a borrowed instrument and play the theme from Pirates of the Caribbean in a band. And I am not entirely over this.

Five Resolutions

I am a big believer in New Year's resolutions. I like having goals. I like setting the bar high for myself. The fact that setting resolutions and keeping them are two entirely different endeavors can result in some challenges and frustration (such as the frustration in trying to actually finding the time to go to the gym three times a week or choose a night every week to do something new and crafty.

Even so, mine is an optimistic soul. Plus, making lists is fun.

Lizzy's Top Five New Year's Resolutions 2013

1. Visit Pittsburgh and Providence

Pittsburgh

My friend Katy lives in Pittsburgh, and so does Mike's friend Nick. I love being shown around a new city by someone who loves it there.

Providence 

Providence is such an artsy place--I was actually researching some grad schools there recently, and there are some great programs. Plus it's on water.













2. Join a book club

I feel better mentally (more imaginative, more mentally exercised, more...well-used) when I'm reading something good. Good mental health = much higher chance of Lizzy achieving dreams and goals. And a book club would ensue that I actually set a deadline for myself to read stuff that somebody else decided was good. Plus there would be other people there who like to read. So it's a litmus test for friends and books. Now, if I can only find one that works with my regular schedule... or lack thereof...

3. Sketch at least one thing per week

I already write every day, and I should really sketch every day too. But I'm trying to stay realistic here. And sitting down with my sketchbook once a week would be good for keeping me in practice.

This is from a blog about remaking $1 dresses every day. 

4. Sew/modify some of my own clothes. 

I think the blogs about this are so cool and I really want to try some of the techniques, for like turning a frumpy shirt into a sleeveless shift dress, or an old lady dress into a cute dress, or a scratched up purse into a  cool, funky one...You get the theme here.












5. Set myself a writing deadline, like one chapter per week.

This one is really important to me. I am serious about this book. And I have to make it happen.

Awesome cartoon with a freakish resemblance to my life!

Happy New Year everyone! :)