Call it what you will. People have been practicing the art of the swap well before today's trendy label was affixed. Either way, it's no surprise to me that clothing swaps have become very "in" these days, especially among my fashion-forward peers.
Our motivation? Well, most of us make an attempt to live as greenly as we can, even if we find ourselves whizzing through a yellow light on occasion. We flaunt our creativity and social prowess by hosting a party in the name of the three R's, all while flexing our thrifty muscles. We each go home with a load of new different stuff, remarkably, while helping others as a result.
These folks know exactly what I mean... According to them, clothing swaps are "revolutionizing America's approach to fashion." Hmmm.... A strong statement, indeed. My hand-me-down hat's off to them for taking note, organizing clothing swap fundraising events for charities, and spreading the word on how it all works.
And they're certainly not the only "voice of the swap" out there...
Many articles have been written on the how-to's of swapping, and there are even online options outlining the hands-off approach to hand-me-downs. In the midst of the social savvy hoopla that has saturated our go-to media outlets, I just can't help but reflect on the fad and wonder how we'll feel when the economy comes back around... and the newness wears off.
Which in turn, leads me to realize that this concept is far from new. A stretch, perhaps, but early explorers scoured the seas searching for new trade routes. Retail stores exchange items to ensure a pleasant experience for consumers. And school children continue to get a thrill out of swapping potato chips and cookies during lunchtime.
What's the common thread? How are today's clothing swaps different than yesterday's swap meets, flea markets, and trading posts?
For me, there's no major difference at all. I relish in the satisfaction of knowing that I've made a friend feel pretty and confident by offering up an old pink trench coat. That just because I repeatedly purchase shoes that seem to fit in the store, but don't when I get home, the money I spent wasn't a total loss. I know I can swap them for something equally as fabulous that actually fits. And finally, that I can walk into the Goodwill by my house on any given day and find an item that didn't to find a new home at one of our swaps.
Trade out any synonym for "good" and that's exactly how it has always felt. I remember the warm fuzzy feeling I got in elementary school when I'd trade my Doritos for a classmate's apple. Or when my older cousin Caryn handed me a huge garbage bag full of her old clothes. And today, that same feeling emerges when I set aside certain items from our swap parties for the sixth-grade girl I nanny for. It will be that way for me long after the how-to articles are archived and we've found a more exciting reason for hosting parties.
That coveted "good" feeling is MY common thread. I look forward to weaving it into future endeavors, and swapping misfortune and greed for a lifetime of newness and contentment.
By the end of each week, my brain is usually brimming with bits and pieces of snazzy blog ideas, detailed first-hand encounters, and a few not-very-exciting thingportants.
(Importings? Nope. Don't like the sound of that.)
They are simply not very exciting, yet important, things.
They are officially my "Thingportants."
I thought I'd dedicate Fridays to posting a list of said ideas, encounters and thingportants, in an attempt to clear my head. Also, I'm going to use Friday Fumblings as an exercise in "letting go." If a blog idea doesn't come to fruition, so be it. If my spelling and grammar stink, so be it. If it doesn't make sense to my readers, so be it. And so on.
Might sound simple to some, but to me, letting go (of anything!) is not an easy feat. So bear with me, k?
...And let the brain dumping begin!
FRIDAY FUMBLINGS, Vol. 1
1. Our big huge pansy of a dog, Tucker
Both Mark and I are at our wit's end with good 'ole Tuxter. Tuckie. Buddy. Bud Bud. Tuck Tuck. Yuck, yuck! Over the past week he has: Chewed up my camel colored sexy heels. Drooled on anything and everything in our house, including our floors, carpets, couches, everything in our closets, on Mark's sleeping bag, etc. He's woken us up in the middle of the night about 4 out of the 7 days this week. He threw up on the leather couch that we JUST had fixed because he ate a hole in it. And he attacked a dog at the dog park. I'm forgetting some incidents, I'm sure, but it's been really exhausting. He's such an anxious boy, and when I'm anxious, he's even worse. Which has been a lot lately. And the rain and thunder has NOT helped his case one bit. Ugh.
2. My battle with the vacuum cleaner
It attacked me in the middle of the night a few nights ago. Well...actually, I left it in the middle of the floor in our bedroom so I would remember to actually USE it the next day. Anyway, I got up at 3 a.m. to use the bathroom, fumbled around in the dark and ran smack dab into it. WHAP! Ouch...
3. Testing, testing, 1...2...
Over the past few months, I've been working with Lifelong Adult Education Services to figure some "life" things out. I've been taking a series of psychological and academic assessments so I can have official, documented information about me, my brain, my past, my present, and...you guessed it...it is, indeed, LIFELONG...my future. Yesterday, Mark and I went to my results meeting. More on this later. Haven't received the official report yet, but from the therapist discussed with us in the meeting, some form of "anxiety disorder" label is likely to appear in the findings. Again, will elaborate when I'm good and ready. Right now I'm not exactly "good" OR "ready." So stay tuned.
4. Here, kitty kitty kitty kitty
Some of you may already know about the cat attack that ensued a few years back. If you read through the old posts, you might think that to this day, I despise cats, or at least fear them. I'm happy to report that cats now hold a special place in my heart, thanks to Pie Pie and Cho Cho -- the two wonderful kitties that live with the girl who I nanny for. I think it helps that for whatever reason, they love being around me, and love to snuggle with me. Either way, I no longer think that ALL cats convene in an underground lair to plot the earth's demise.
5. Denver marathon relay coming up in about a month -- not ready at all!
6. Anxiously (shocker) waiting to hear about next steps in the interview process for a school that I have been pursuing.
7. Applied to be a mentor for a high school student.
Very excited about my mentor interview next week! Check out Byrne Urban Scholars for info on the organization -- it's wonderful!
8. Excited about my upcoming Chicago trip over Mother's Day weekend!
Can't wait to attend Logan's Bar Mitzvah, and spend time with Pamela, Will, Logan and Eli.
Oh, and Michelle, Gretchen, Katy and Marilyn, too! Not happy that my own mother will be out of town that weekend though... :-(
9. I miss my family :-(
10. Feeling awful that I have yet to "officially" thank Jess for taking Jill and I out to dinner and for drinks a while ago.
Have had plans to do it, but they haven't come to fruition yet. Blech.
11. SCHOOL. Finishing. Working. Updating. Committing. Moving forward.
This one is last, because it's the MOST important, most complicated, and produces the most anxiety for me.
My hands shook as I typed #11...and now I think I will go puke.
On that note, have a wonderful weekend! Thanks for reading!
-DTL
Which is ironic, you see, because I have to use my brain to think about said brains. About how we use them, and how different each one is, and how different each one works. Like Temple Grandin's.
I'm currently reading her book, titled Animals in Translation. The simple description on the book cover, "Using the Mysteries of Autism to Decode Animal Behavior," quickly caught my eye as I was searching through discounted paperbacks at the book store a few weeks ago.
I had learned about Temple in a graduate course that I took last semester called Success for All Children and Adolescents. Another book of Temple's, Thinking in Pictures, was one of the choices on a list for a book circle assignment. (I chose her book as my first choice, but the professor placed me in a different group. Yep, I'm still bitter!) I have since read Thinking in Pictures on my own and have seen the recent HBO movie, Temple Grandin, starring Claire Danes (such a FABULOUS performance! So spot on. Bravo, Claire). I could go on, but I think you "get the picture" that Temple is a pretty important person nowadays, and lately I've taken an active role in learning all that I can from her.
And if you ever have some free time and you're interested, watch her here (it's kind of long, but worth it!):
Specifically, I've become fascinated with learning more about the autism spectrum, because if you aren't yet aware, Temple has a high-functioning form of autism. I'm interested in the way that Temple's brain works because she is a highly visual thinker. The more I learn about the way she thinks, the more connections I start to make about how my own brain works and the way that I think.
I've learned that just like other brain disorders, the characteristics and symptoms of autism vary for each individual. Take ADHD, for instance. My traits are different than those of some other people's who are also blessed with ADHD (See what I did there? To an extent, yes, I do believe I'm blessed with it. Umm...a considerably small extent, but blessed, nonetheless.). What intrigues me about both autism and ADHD are the similarities between some of the possible traits. For example, these pretty much describe me in a nutshell: the ability to hyperfocus, sensory sensitivity, can be easily overstimulated, tendency toward both learning disabilities and giftedness (I know, sounds like I'm tooting my own horn, which is hard to admit. I'm obviously not gifted in math, but I think that in certain creative areas, I can hold my own, ok?) and a vulnerability to depression.
What sparks my curiosity the most about Temple is how much of a visual thinker she is. I always knew that my learning style was more on the visual side, but I didn't really realize the extent until I started grad school. Now, I certainly don't think in pictures as often or as vivid as Temple, but I can definitely relate to the way she describes some of her thought processes. This one is my absolute favorite (from Animals in Translation, pp. 89-90):
"Of course, no one knows why an autistic grown-up has trouble making connections, since our frontal lobes are normal-sized. All we know right now is that researchers find "decreased connectivity among cortical regions and between the cortex and subcortex.
The way I visualize it is that a normal brain is like abig corporate office buildingwith telephones, faxes, e-mail, messengers, people walking around and talking -- a big corporation has zillions of ways for messages to get from one place to another. The autistic brain is like the same big corporate office building where the only way for anyone to talk to anyone else is by fax. There's no telephone, no e-mail, no messengers, and no people walking around talking to each other. Just faxes. So a lot less stuff is getting through as a consequence, and everything starts to break down. Some messages get through okay; other messages get distorted when the fax misprints or the paper jams; other messages don't get through at all.
The point is that even though autistic people have a normal-sized neocortex including normal-sized frontal lobes, our brains function as if our frontal lobes were much smaller or not fully developed."
I searched Google Images for a brain / office building drawing so I could insert it in this post, but couldn't find one. I found this instead, which I think is super cool, that depicts right and left brain function. I'd imagine Temple's office building might have been drawn in a similar fashion:
Anyway, what a fantastic way to describe it! Wow! I totally get what she's saying, and am thankful for the visual because now I have a point of reference when I'm trying to explain what happens to me sometimes when I'm having a difficult "brain day" as I like to call them (this should explain it).
Well, the frontal lobe that Temple refers to is a subdivision of the neocortex. And yes, I definitely had to look that up, because I slept through, or at least daydreamed through, most of my biology classes in high school and college (focus issues, remember?). The neocortex is responsible for specific cognitive processes like working memory, speech, language, sensory perception, generation of motor commands, spacial reasoning, conscious thought, etc. Basically the only reason why I'm referring to this part of the brain (because as I first stated, I've been thinking about brains a lot lately!) is because I playfully like to call it the "neato-cortex" (it does so many cool things, does it not?).
Now I will certainly have to do some more research to be sure of my facts, and so I can sound like I know what the heck I'm talking about, of course. BUT... I suspect that there may be some form of connection issue in my own personal neato-cortex. Hmmm...it just might be to blame for the stupid anomia I experience from time to time... I'm on to you, neato-cortex! Not so neato anymore, huh?!
Finally, I referred to Temple as my first "official unofficial" spiritual guide in my last post. It's understandable to be confused about this, because with Temple's form of autism, social interactions and abstract thinking are both very difficult. However, she has inspired me to seek out how I function best, even if it is completely scientific, so I can be the best form of myself as possible. And there's definitely something spiritual about that for me, and that's what matters.
I was, however, searching for just a little bit more out of my "pretend" spiritual relationship with Temple -- more than just noticing a connection because we are both visual thinkers, and we both love animals. Well, I found it (to my surprise!) in what she says here:
"But my favorite of Einstein's words on religion is 'Science without religion is lame. Religion without science is blind.' I like this because both science and religion are needed to answer life's great questions. Even scientists such as Richard Feynman, who rejected religion and poetry as sources of truth, concede grudgingly that there are questions that science cannot answer."
Well, I used to automatically see a picture of a synagogue when I heard the word "temple." Now, I admirably see Temple Grandin. Doctor of Animal Science. Professor at Colorado State University. Bestselling author. Consultant to the livestock industry in animal behavior. Autism advocate. A pioneer. Influential. Inspiring. Fabulous!
Little does she know how much I respect her...
Thank you, Temple. I think ALL of your cortexes are neato.
-DTL
I want to be very clear and state for the record (whatever record that may be), that I, in no way, know what it's like to have autism. I can't even imagine. On a much, much, much smaller scale though, Temple has provided me with a tiny glimpse of understanding by explaining one of her mental pictures (the office building) in a way that makes sense to me. Because of her, I can explain to others what it feels like when information often takes its sweet old time to process in my brain. Thanks for reading!
I was raised Catholic. From kindergarten all the way through undergrad, I attended Catholic schools. After college, somewhere along life’s journey, I strayed from the Catholic Church. I found myself away longer than I had expected. Long enough to truly get lost – to the extent where global positioning meant diddely squat.
I found myself searching for guidance. Maybe a map. A tour guide, perhaps. A bus stop would have been nice. Something. I finally realized that it must be my job, and mine alone, to figure out a method for finding my way back. To find a home for my faith. Either back to the Catholic Church, or to a completely different building altogether.
METHOD FOLLOWING, MY WAY
Procedure, technique, in accordance with a definite plan. Typically an orderly, logical or systematic way of instruction, inquiry, investigation, experiment, presentation, etc. Arrangement. Sequence. Logical?
It has been quite some time since I’ve been to any form of “church” on a Sunday, let alone a Catholic mass. Today I took advantage of the opportunity to accompany my friend Jill and her son Cael to their Sunday church service. It is a Methodist church, and I enjoyed it. I felt welcome and had a pleasant and positive experience. However, I wonder: Does this method of finding the proper place for my faith and beliefs seem logical to me? Has my systematic Sunday experiment yielded a concrete answer? Have I found the right building? Am I back on the radar?
WITH GRANDIN AS MY GUIDE
Synagogue, basilica, cathedral. Duomo, or possibly, chapel.
Temple?
I have learned that my faith will be with me wherever I go, and I will have many different spiritual guides along my journey. Oddly enough, this afternoon after church with Jill, Temple Grandin (get it? Temple?) served as my first “officially unofficial” guide (more on Temple in my next post). She inspired me to keep the building doors opened just a crack, no matter where I find myself, in case I feel the need to wander once again and test future methods...on my quest for concrete faith.
Chrissy, the answer is: Bubbles, cramps, a bad feeling in the pit, bitters and soda, and peppermint tea.
“What are…things that can be found in my stomach?”
Correct! You won the Daily (Dilemma) Double!
I have been nauseous and sick to my stomach for most of the day today. I even took a three hour nap, but it didn’t help to soothe the nausea. I’m not sure if I’m coming down with a stomach bug, or if stress and worry are simply getting the best of me. Either way, this dilemma can’t be solved as easily as a game show question in a creatively crafted category. On television, there is only one concrete answer. My tummy woes, I’m very sure of it, are much more complicated.
I’m sitting at St. Mark’s Café on 17th, trying to finish some work that I’ve inevitably been putting off. I’m double- fisting an iced peppermint tea and tall glass of bitters and soda (kindly provided by the accommodating barista) to help me calm the storm. My work? I postponed it a tad bit longer in order to write this post. I see it as a double-dose of effort to soothe the sourness.
Even if the bitters do work tonight, and the tea helps distinguish the bubbling ache, I will still be stuck with the following debilitating dilemma to sort through and deal with:
How long can I continue to be a successful contestant, if I can’t complete the category and move on to the next round?
Will I be left with any winnings to wager for final jeopardy? I’m tempted to travel back in time to the set of Double Dare to see how it all plays out.
My mind, as you’ll find, has had a chance to unwind. My stomach though, remains tied in knots. My future, I’m afraid, is in jeopardy. My potential and passion, however, are not.
