Meanderings of a Near-Perfectionist September 22, 2009

There’s nothing wrong with doing your best. In fact, we’ve oft been told by our mothers and mentors that one should always try to do their best. Mediocracy is generally unacceptable in this cruel dog-eat-dog world.

So then when, and why exactly, does doing your best go from being productive to a down right problem?

I call myself a Near-Perfectionist because I don’t think of myself as a perfectionist per se; as clearly evidenced the moment you step into my humble 2nd floor abode. My apartment doesn’t look like Hurricane Katrina packed up and moved in, but it’s obvious I didn’t get the nick name Messie Jessie for nothing. There are many areas in my life, even beyond the doors of my living space, in which “half ass” is completely acceptable, and generally preferred. 

But in other sectors I definitely hold myself to unrealistic expectations, and more often than not think that no matter how many atta-girls come my way, I could have done some part of the whole shabang better. This will continue to haunt me and eat away a little at my precious little soul until I get a chance to do another something that gives me the opportunity to try and get it exactly right. But like any cyclical pattern, it doesn’t get any better and the problem simply continues.

I seem to have happened upon conversations involving my two favorite things in this world ( a. Me, and b. topics that I have already been internally chewing on for a while) in the last week. I’ve talked at length on the subjects of mindfulness, embracing who you are, focusing on the present, focusing on the process and not the product, and the very real negative health effects of perfectionism. And let me tell you, being the ultimate self-analyzer I am, none of the information was new to me as I have been a student of all the aforementioned for quite some time now. 

So the question I pose here is: why is it that within some people resides the mindset that it is ok to know you could do better, but yet simply leave it as is, while for others “as is” will never be enough because there is always something that can be improved upon? And further, how is it that those dichotomies can live within the same person, only exposing themselves in different circumstances?

It is at this point I would like to introduce you to the Navajo Nation. These expert rug makers and beaders intentionally leave slight imperfections and flaws in their work, because in their theory only the Great Spirit is perfect, and we as humans can never achieve perfection. We could all stand to learn a great deal from the Navajos in this respect. 

However, I would like to point out the irony in this strategy. If you are intentionally designing flaws into your creation, isn’t your completed project exactly how you wanted it, which is in turn making it “perfect”?

Either way, I think I am going to take my cue from the Navajo, and take a first step towards releasing the grips of “I can do better than this”. I am going to intentionally leave this post as it is, already knowing I don’t like the cadence and structure of the published product. And sure, I will look back at this post some day, cringing as I do so, wonder what the heck I was I was thinking, have the urge to hit “edit” to fix all those little mistakes and fantasize about rewording the sentences so they are just right. 

But I’m not going to do that. This is one of those circumstances where I have the insatiable urge to make something perfect, but I’m going to fight it. I KNOW I could do better (and if this is your first time reading my blog, continue to peruse my posts, if for nothing else but my sake). 

This time, I’m going to let half-ass be just right.

And to all my fellow (near-)perfectionists out there, I suggest you choose one thing in your life and, even if just this once, let it reach it’s full half-ass potential. I feel your pain, but I know you can do it… perfectly.

From the archives… August 8, 2009

Do you remember the first time you heard the album that changed your life? I do. I never actually owned the album, but did have it on long-term-loan from a friend. The day I gave it back was a sad, sad day. But today, as I was engaging in one of my favorite pastimes, yard sale-ing, I spotted it’s familiar jacket, carelessly tossed in a box of random wares, and I snatched that baby up.

Now, as it sit here listening to it all over again, I am reminded of a post I wrote about it on a former (and less public) blog. So now, I blow off the dust and share something from the Messie Jessie archives:

Tuesday, June 24, 2008 

Everything is Everything- The REeducation of Messie Jessie
Current mood:  catalyzed 
Category: Music

Isn’t it funny how things always seem to find you just when you need them? To me, that means the universe is telling you that you’re on the right track.

In a desperate attempt to divert my seemingly magnetic draw of the weirdos on the subway, I took the suggestion to listen to some music during my commute. It didn’t matter if I was actually listening to anything, just as long as I looked like I was. I needed to appear as if no matter how much you felt compelled to talk to me, I wouldn’t be able to hear you, thus keeping me out of a plethora of uncomfortable and annoying situations. But, being me, I decided that if I was going to have the earbuds in, I might as well have something coming out of them. Since I brought just the basics with me while I live in my friend’s livingroom, unfortunately the CD’s didn’t make the priority list. Graciously, my friend let me borrow a CD from her (sparse) collection.  I didn’t have many options, and even fewer appealing ones, but among the wreckage there was The Miseducation of Lauryn Hill. I always liked her, but never listened to the entire album so I thought I’d give it a shot. I knew she got a lot of acclaim for it, but I figured even if it wasn’t my style I could just turn it off and pretend to rock out.

Turns out, I really like the CD. So, I’m sittin’ on the subway, jammin’ to some Lauryn, when up comes track number 8: When It Hurts So Bad. Now, I know this CD came out in 1998, but it was like Lauryn and I were totally on the same wavelength. It was like she plucked the thoughts right out of my head -10 years before I even thought them- when she sang “What you want might make you cry/ What you need might pass you by/ If you don’t catch it/ And what you need ironically/ Will turn out what you want to be/ If you let it”.

As the tracks progress, it was like I was making the evolution in thought and emotion right along side her. By the time I got to Track 13 Everything is Everything, all my positive affirmations were being reaffirmed when she sang “What is meant to be will be/ After winter must come spring/ Change, it comes eventually”. In that moment I felt like I could take on the world.  It was as if Lauryn was my soul sista, no matter what she ever said about white people. By the time I got to where I was going, I wanted nothing more than to write her a fan letter, telling her how much I loved her, thank her for understanding and apologize for everything my race did to her race…. Ever.

So, here’s where I get all sappy and philosophical on ya. When people talk about everything happening for a reason, even if you can’t see it at that time, you really need to believe them. If all those bizarre and creepy dudes hadn’t invaded my personal space ten too many times, I would have never thought to listen to music on the sub, and I would have never shared the inspiration and camaraderie with the fabuloz Miss Lauryn Hill.

P.S. And God damn, this album is still as relevant as it was on day one.

Updating your status (quo) July 21, 2009

Welcome to the Twitter Nation

We’ve become a nation of Tweeters. We update the world on our every move in 140 characters or less. Welcome to the Twitter Nation.

April 15, 2009. That marks the day I officially became a tweeter. Originally, I joined because I wanted another gimmick to get readers to my site. You see, the folks at wordpress understood the draw, and gave us bloggers the ability to add our twitter updates to a side bar on our pages. Just look to your right at the “all-a-twitter” box to see for yourself. I thought it would be a nifty way for people to find something new on my site even if I hadn’t updated a full blog post yet.

The problem? I began ignoring my blog and got sucked into instant twits. The attraction is strong, you see. I can update my facebook status, my blog sidebar, and my twitter account, all with one simple text message from my cell phone, and in less than 30 seconds usually. Writing a decent blog entry from start to publish takes me at least 120 thirty-second intervals. That’s a lot of tweets.

The other problem is that I’ve found I’m losing my ability to write anything decent in longer than 140 characters. I start running into problems after the first paragraph, then get all flustered and end up trashing the entire idea. It’s like the worst case of creative block ever. And I’m not the only one having this problem, all thanks to twitter. John Mayer is a tweeter I follow, and he mentioned it’s actually affecting his ability to write songs. He publicly stated in a recent tweet that he’s now making an effort to cut back on his updates; to which I sorely miss, as his tweets are always entertaining. (Check him out at twitter.com/johncmayer)

Perhaps it’s becoming an international paradigm shift. But if this is true, twitter is not completely to blame. It’s the internet in general. Since the invention of comment threads to articles, discussion forums and social networking (yes, beloved facebook included), people have slowly been shortening their thoughts into smaller and smaller constructs. Looking back, my most visceral writing cannot be found within this blog, but rather splattered upon the pages of journals that I’ve kept over the years. Sadly, I haven’t touched my journal since early summer of 2008 when I apologized to it for my lack of attention due to the seduction of the blogging world.

What’s worse, any self-respecting, non-pseudonym-using blogger can tell you most of what you read is quite censored. We have to keep in mind that people we actually care about read these things, such as our mothers, friends, boyfriends (including here the ex- and potential- ones), maybe even our employers or coworkers. Names are removed, our raw internal reactions to real life interactions are toned down, our deepest desires remain masked by fancy verbiage, and all in all a less than honest interpretation of reality.  We have to be careful what we put out there for the entire world to read. And trust me, that takes a bit of work and couth.

So maybe thats why people like twitter so much- its like mobile blogging, only easier. How many people can you piss off in so few words? (Note: that is not a dare folks, I’m sure you can piss off a lot of people in a few words. Just ask Perez Hilton- twitter.com/perezhilton). But it seems like the norm has become “if you can’t say it in less than 140 characters, it ain’t worth saying”. One fellow tweeter, who has recently gained some notoriety for his ability, actually writes entire stories within those character limits (see for yourself at twitter.com/astoryin140).

Even now I’m finding it difficult to put together an entire blog post. My mind keeps thinking of a few short sentences that sound really great; filling the spaces between is what’s causing me some trouble. Maybe I should just acquiesce and simmer this entire post down to 140 characters:

I blame twitter for stifling creativity & keeping us from expressing any stimulating thought unless it fits within 140 chars. Go articulate!

One hundred forty exactly, peoples. That’s sad.

Attractive, Successful, and Single ladies: What’s wrong with us?!? July 11, 2009

Right up until Memorial Day Weekend I was completely unconcerned with my single-hood. In fact, I was happy with it. I didn’t need any man to boost my already inflated ego. I did as I pleased, had no one to answer to, and enjoyed life as it came. When I would go out I didn’t have an invisible sign posted on my forehead reading “ISO Next Boyfriend”. I could have cared less if I happened to catch the eye of a member of the opposite sex.

About three weeks ago, all that changed.

Let’s revisit Memorial Day Weekend. That Friday night my gal pal asked me if I wanted to go to a party with her. She told me it would be low key and there would only be a few people there. I didn’t know anyone who would be in attendance, but I had nothing better to do, so I decided to tag along. I threw on a nice-but-casual shirt, kept on my dirty jeans, slipped on some flips, and we headed out.

Nothing remarkable occurred at this party. She was right, it was low key. I spent the evening talking with other guests about grown-up stuff like buying houses, the job market, and infomercial products. If I recall correctly, I believe I had two beers the entire time I was there. There was one dude there, who I remember thinking was handsome, but had no further conversation with other than a group discussion on the magic of the Sham-Wow. Somewhere around 11pm my gal pal and I decided to hit the streets of South Philly and head home.

The next day I thought no more of the party, or anyone who had been there. While drinking coffee and feeding into my FaceBook addiction, I notice I had a friend request. Inserted in the request was a personal message asking, “are you Jess from last night”? Immediately I realized it was the dude from the party whom I had thought in passing was handsome. I confirmed the request and that I had been “Jess from last night”. 

Quick overview of the next 3-4 weeks: After several emails back and forth, dude asks me out on a date. We go out an average of twice a week. I really start digging on dude, and read into our interactions that he feels the same. One Sunday we go out to dinner and, to me, it seems we had a fabulous time and were really on the same page about where this is going. I go home completely smitten.

The following Friday we make plans to get together that night, and the subject of who’s house to hang out comes up. That’s when, while at work, I get an email (a friggin’ email for cryin’ out loud) from dude saying that he doesn’t want this to go any further than casual dating and is not interested in anything more “serious” than that. My stomach does a 180, my brain does a mental double take, and all I can think to myself is “how could I have read this situation so completely wrong”?? Naturally, my response was (via telephone, and after noting an email was a seemingly insensitive and cowardly way of relaying such info) “well, if you’re not with the program, then I am going to have to change the channel”. I added, “If you ever decide to come over to the ‘dark side’, you have my number”. I wasn’t angry, but I was seriously bummed.

That was about three weeks ago. Over that time I have found myself lamenting over the fact that I don’t have that “someone special” more often then I care to admit. I’ve mentally reviewed my previous relationships and realized most of the time I was the “dumpee” rather than the “dumper”. I complained to a male coworker about it, to which he responded, “well, you do give off a ‘casual’ vibe”. I’ve gone back to a conversation I had with a male friend several months ago when, over a few drinks, he said to me, “I’d make out with you, but I wouldn’t date you”. I had chalked that one up to him just being a womanizer (which, in all honesty, he is), but now I can’t help but wonder if there was some truth in his statement. I never get asked out, I am always the pursuer, and at this point I can’t help but ponder: what is wrong with me??? I really like who I am and think I am really quite a catch, so why doesn’t anyone else recognize this?

Now, at this point I feel compelled to inject that I do realize most of this self-deprecation probably arises from the fact that it was a “he’s just not that into me” situation, versus a “I’m just not that into him” kinda gig. And I also do realize that like any other temporary state, this too shall pass. But still, I’m not the only woman I know in this condition. I can’t tell you how many of my lady friends complain about the same frustration.

We are what I call “ASS”es: Attractive, Successful, and Single. We’ve got the total package, and yet we are all single as the day is long. One would think that we would be prime targets for any man of equally top-quality stature. But somehow, here we all are, hopelessly dateless. Are men, as a fellow ASS put it, too intimidated to ask us out? Do people automatically assume we are taken? Or is it as another ASS fears, that we excrete some weird chemical that repels the opposite sex?

Whatever it may be, for me personally the real frustration lies in that ever since I was put in the “casual dating” category by dude, I can’t seem to get back to that single-and-content-with-it state that I once was. I’m still not seeking out Mr. Right (or even Mr. Right Now for that matter) whenever I exit the house, but now I’m left with the lingering pangs of “why can’t someone just ‘be into me’”? I’m not alone in this, but still, what a bummer.

And Doggie makes three May 24, 2009

For those of you who don’t know, over the last two months I had been looking into adopting a dog. After countless hours searching Craigslist & Petfinder, and a few trips to local shelters…. I finally found a dog to call my own!

She is the sweetest girl, and in typical new mother fashion, here are some photos to share. Click on any pic for a larger view:

When I went to the SPCA yesterday, accompanied by my dog-owner-mentor, I had a list of potential dogs I had seen online that I wanted to check out. Out of the four, two were already known to not do well with cats (one of my primary requirements), one had been taken back by it’s owners, and sadly, for one I had come in too late and her time at the shelter was up. 

Not to be discouraged, I walked around the hundred or so cages looking for potential adoptees. As I was looking at another dog, my friend brought my attention to a calm white dog a few cages down. I thought she was the cutest thing, and immediately asked the girl working there to note that after seeing all the dogs I wanted to come back to take her out. Before walking away I looked at her info sheet to see age, history, etc. My eye caught her name, and I just couldn’t believe it… The folks at the shelter had named her Jessie! That’s when I knew it was meant to be.

I continued looking around the shelter, but couldn’t get the little white girl out of my head. I tested out another pup first, but he was way too energetic for me, and ended up not testing well with cats. I asked if we could go back to Jessie, but requested that before we took her out to “cat test” her, so that I wouldn’t get my hopes up in the play yard, only to find out she may very well eat my resident feline friend. Thankfully, she was curious and sniffed at the cat, but paid no further mind.

After spending a few minutes in the play yard with her, I felt confident to finally utter the words I had been waiting so long to say: “This is the one. I want to take this dog home”. Embarrassingly, at that moment my eyes started to well up with happiness and excitement, and I had to wipe away a few budding tears. How ridiculous would that have been to start crying at the shelter? Seriously.

After a car ride, a visit to the pet shop, a stop at my dog-mentor’s house to meet her crew and get a bath, a few walks around the new block and a good nights sleep (only one bark in the middle of the night), she is peacefully laying around today, but always by my side. I’m sure that she is enjoying the sanctity of a quiet home, lots of affection, and a few treats when she does something good. I think she will be happy in her new home.

Rice-kitty (aka meowhead) is reacting to our new addition just as I has expected: Initial puffy tail freak out, hiding out under the bed, occasionally coming out for food and water and/or to lay by my side- with one eye fixed on the dog at all times. He lived with a dog before, so I know he’ll be just fine shortly. In the meantime he’s still getting plenty of one-on-one time with his fellow couch potato. He’s still my bud, and he knows he’ll always be number one in my heart.

In case you are wondering; no, she does not have an official name just yet. Obviously it would be just plain bizarre (and possibly quite egocentric) if I kept the name Jessie, but I have been tossing a few ideas around. There are a few that seem to stick, and I’ll be sure to update when the right one comes along.

Lastly, just wanted to note that the title of the post is actually quite inaccurate. Doggie actually makes six! Between myself, Rice the cat, 3 hermit crabs and Doggie I’m starting to feel like I’m living in a menagerie. Feeding time rocketed to a whole new level this morning, and it wasn’t until my stomach started to feel upset that I realized, “oh yeah, I need to eat too”. 

It’s going to take us all a little while to adjust, but I have the feeling we’ll all be one happy family in no time. All six of us.

Spread the love April 27, 2009

Life-Is-Good Souvenirs

Gosh darn it, life is good.

I wanted to write all the events in which are making my life so good right now, and how full of general love the last several days have been, but I’ve been so busy getting out there and living life, that instead I will leave you with this:

I encourage you all to go out there and spread the love in as many of the following ways as possible: 

• Surround yourself with as many friends as possible, as often as possible. And make it clear how much they mean to you.
• Call up your old friends and invite them for a visit. If they can’t visit, be sure to fully catch up on the phone. Vow to keep in touch more regularly.
• Enjoy an exquisite meal, spiced with the tastiest laughter you can find
• Spend some quality time in the sun (and wear sunscreen)
• Head out to your local animal shelter(s) and play with as many critters in need as possible
• If you aren’t already, get yourself in the habit of doing a little extra physical activity each day, in whatever way you enjoy most
• Turn off your air conditioner and enjoy the gift that is this warm air (I know you were all wishing for it a mere few weeks ago)
• And if you cannot manage any of the above, at least DO THIS- Say to at least 10 people in the next 72 hours these exact words, “you are beautiful“. And you get extra credit for telling a complete stranger- it will show on their faces how much it means (more than you can imagine right now sitting in front of your computer). I’m telling you from experience.

Love is the very fabric of the universe.

Laugh often, love much & live well.

Update on an Older Post April 17, 2009

Before you read on, please refresh your memory on this old post: More Frightful Footwear

So, I’m strolling down the street carrying my chinese take-out, minding my own business and lost in my own little world of thoughts. I’m not paying attention to much of anything, other than feeding off the energy of the warm evening. Looking down at the crosswalk I’m about to enter, something turquoise and swishy catches my eye. I make closer inspection and realize some chica wearing the very same shoes I mentioned in the linked post above.

They looked so ridiculous -with the fringe bobbing upon her ankles- I literally had to bite my lip to keep from laughing aloud.

Tweet, Tweet; I just Twittered! April 15, 2009

Am I not updating my blog enough for your appetite?

Do you want to know what the marvelous Messie Jessie is up to right now?

Can’t get enough of that CrazyKindaLife stuff? 

Then it’s your lucky day! Now you can get your fix instantly, thanks to the magic of Twitter. Don’t have a Twitter? Not a problem; simply look to your right and check out the “All a-Twitter” box in the sidebar for live feed of my most recent Tweeting.

And if you do have a Twitter, follow me at MessieJessieG.

Flea Market Fever! April 6, 2009

Feeling like my office at work was becoming one big crap hole, I decided it was time to clean it out and spruce it up. I figured that While You Were Out wouldn’t be showing up at my workplace any time soon, so I needed to take matters into my own hands. I called up an old friend, with whom I needed to spend some serious quality time anyway, and proposed that we seek out and take over a flea market over the weekend. She agreed, and on Sunday we headed out to the nearest Flea Facility. 

And, of course, I documented the day for your viewing pleasure:

| View Show | Create Your Own

 

*A noteworthy, and unphotographed, interaction occurred while at the Flea. I was looking at one of the tables that was selling various gems and stones, when the vendor stopped me and asked me to take off my sunglasses. I obliged, and he said, “ok, I just wanted to make sure”. I gave him an odd look, and he responded, “I can see your aura. I wanted you to take off your glasses so I could be sure of what I was seeing”. Naturally, I asked what color it was that he saw, and he told me my aura was red and yellow. After a little questioning, he told me what he could see about me, which I found a tad vague, but interesting nonetheless. I then asked him what color Melissa’s aura was, to which he said, “I can’t see it. I don’t see a lot of people’s auras, but I happened to see yours”. Later on, Melissa said that she thought he was hitting on me, and used that as a way to talk to me. I thought perhaps that was the case; but to me, it was just another treasure to take home from my day at the Flea.

Home Sweet Home March 26, 2009

It’s always good to take some time out to recharge your proverbial batteries. I had some “use it or lose it” time at work, and decided to do an extra long weekend in my old country home, The Apple Capital. 

As the old adage goes, a picture says a thousand words. Therefore, enjoy the show:

| View Show | Create Your Own

I’ll update this with more photos as I take them… stay tuned.