Blogs Like A Girl

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The Keep Pile, also being referred to as projects I am kind of, sort of agreeing to take on in next 365 Days. 

A Quick Obit On “The Pile” Casualties

The funny thing is I did need my dining room table. And quickly.

I have a couple of good friends stopping by for lunch, or exactly what dining room tables were designed to accommodate. So the pile had to be sorted, and quickly, into smaller piles eventually will need to be handled. Like say when I need the bottom shelf of my bookcase back.

It was strangely emotional, deciding what to keep and what to pitch. At one point or another, every book on how to lose 20 pounds, every way to learn French in my free time, every book promising to show me how to invest smarter, parent better, not kill every garden I plant had been hope. I had bought them with what I am sure was tingly hope that this would make me different, better, special. Instead it made me popular at Barnes and Noble and without room for my homemade pizza on my dining room table.  

So I went through The Pile quickly. My first go through was stuff I knew I’d never read, read again or actually put into practice in my life in any way. Which is why they are all suffocating in my trunk, in 110-degree Texas heat, while my GRE flashcards remain air-conditioned with hopes of one day being used. 

I do feel a need to say a quick goodbye to the casualties.

LSAT book — wtf? No seriously, what was I thinking? Exactly 80 percent of my lawyer friends are miserable. Not mildly miserable, I am talking eat the $200,000 in Harvard law loans miserable. And my friends who are married to lawyers are even more miserable, not because they do not like their spouses or their work but rather because they never see them. I never opened this book. And I am glad I did not.

First-time parents — Filled with knowledge like “change your child when dirty”, this may be my biggest waste. And yet I know I read this religiously, became obsessed with doing every prescribed activity with Vivian and became obsessively obsessed with comparing her to every milestone. My husband would get home with work and I would pepper him with inanity like “the book says she should be crawling by 9 months, do you think we should take her to the pediatrician because she is seven months and not doing that yet so is probably behind?” He hated this book. I am pretty sure he tried to “lose” this book. 

What To Expect — The Devil. This and every other incarnation of this series should be burned. It is emotionally abusive to women. Every page has a morsel that leaves you scared and worried and scarred, or moreso than I already was.

A New Earth — Oprah told me to buy this. I did. Full disclosure: If Oprah suggested reading What To Expect cover to cover, I probably would. She has introduced me to a lot of good things, and I miss her show almost as much as my mother. That said, I tried to read this book. Really tried. I have no idea what it is about. If you do, please tell me.

The Secret — This was a gift from my good friend, Tracey, and now I am really hoping she does not see this post about how I am trashing her gift. But this also falls under the “What does everybody else see in this that I am missing” category. Really, I am struggling to lose this final 15 pounds because I do not turn away when fat people walk by? Really.

Workout DVDs — I do not work out at home. I say I will. I think I will. I do not. I like my yoga at my studio. I like to run outside with friends. If I am in front of my TV, I’d like to be watching one of the 457 movies backlogged on Netflix, not sweating.

Learn French audio tapes — I already have Rosetta Stone French. I paid a fortune for them. So this had to go.

All of you were good souls, taking up valuable space in my home and brain. Now get the hell out, and let’s pretend I never once dreamed of acing the LSAT and arguing cases in front of the Supreme Court. Because even typing that makes me feel, well, ridiculous.

— jengel 

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What I decided, ultimately, was I was never ever (even under threat of torture) going to endeavor to do or learn or improve in any of these areas, using any of these books, tapes or manuals. And while slightly used, my daughter is now two and a half so helping her through that first year seems silly. So this part of The Pile now sits in my trunk, ready to be forgotten and never spoken of again. I am trying not to think of how much money and dreams were invested in this pile. 

Answer To Biggest “Wait, Huh, Why?” Of The Pile

Upon seeing my pile of shame, most of my friends have asked a very serious question.

What in the hell were you thinking having a garage sale?

Very good question for many reasons, namely and in no particular order, a) Texas feels like what I imagine my last attempt at a souffle did (flattened and defeated by too much heat) b) I detest getting up early, haggling over money, used clothes or the very essence of garage sales and c) This is, technically, why vacation so why spend it in my attic going through things long ago relegated to uselessness.

My only answer is I am not quite myself. I quit my job at The Fort Worth Star-Telegram after 15 years a couple of weeks ago. Did I mention it was my dream job? It was and, depending on the day, feels like it might still be. Growing up I always wanted to be a sports columnist for a newspaper, and that is exactly what I had been for the last couple of years in a city I love with colleagues I mostly loved and a pretty good life. What I did not see coming was the offer for a better job a different job at FOXSports.com, an offer to write a sports columnist for a national website and a damn good one.

I am a tortured thinker on my best days, and worse when there are good choices. Long story short, I decided to go. That why is for another post. This is about the aftermath of that decision, how I suddenly felt pregnant again. Not the wine bottle ankles, or the cravings for pinwheels but rather this insane desire to declutter everything. I found myself eyeing chairs and lamps when my husband was gone, wondering if I could haul it to the sidewalk by myself. The garage sale seemed like the wiser course, and the whole thing was a fascinating social experiment as well as a decent way to rid myself of excess stuff.

The only drawback is The Pile. 

It feels like failure, like a whole lot of planning and not a lot of follow through, like a big pile of “What the hell were you thinking?’ And so I must decide and probably before Monday. That is when I start my new job at FOXSports.

— jengel

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In cleaning out for The Big Engel Garage Sale, I accumulated what began as a small pile and quickly became a good chunk of my dining room table loaded with purchases made in the name of self-improvement. This is that pile. Study guides for LSATs never taken. CDs for languages never learned. And oh so many books to gain skills that I still lack. I am trying not to cry as I drown in emotional clutter. Why did I never do this? Why did I spend money on that? Just imagine a lot of melodramatic chick “Why, why, why?” talk.

I took a photo, was about to delete in shame then decided I had to decide. Do I try to do aforementioned self-improvement projects, or just toss. Does tossing=quitting? Or is it smart? Thoughts?

— jengel

Testing, testing, testing

Why, of course, I do not know what I am doing. I write. So this blog development is only slightly foreign to my writer brain. Be patient. Stand by.