Category: enjoying life
My world exploded earlier this week when a good friend posted this Buzzfeed article on my Facebook wall. “It reminds me of something your main character might do,” she wrote. And so I clicked, knowing just from the title of the article that I was going to be absolutely hooked.
Let’s not talk about the similarities between my current main character, the very organized yet somewhat spacy Jenna Sims, and myself. The bullet journal, I discovered, was the solution to the very problem I’d been trying to solve with all sorts of failed organizational systems. I love notecards, but they’re very stray. I like planners, but it’s hard to improvise with them. Habit tracking is my jam, but I’m not going to write down every single thing I need to repeat day in and day out.
BuJo* to the rescue. It’s literally everything you could want and need. How is this possible? Because you decide what goes in it. You want a twelve-month overview? Put it in. A monthly calendar with a to-do list next to it? Add that shiz. Daily lists of things to do, combined with appointments, observations, food tracking, and journaling? Do it. Not to mention the pages of books to read, movies to watch, TV season tracking, and on, and on.
It’s not my job here to tell you every single stinkin’ thing you can do with your bullet journal, partly because there are no limits. One quick search on Instagram for #bulletjournal and you will find yourself simultaneously awed, inspired, overwhelmed, and intimidated.
Yes, overwhelmed and intimidated. I’m taking it upon myself to make sure you are fully prepared for this moment. These women sharing on Instagram are like, professional bullet journalers. Their handwriting is so perfect. Their decorations are so cute and flawless.
IF THAT’S NOT YOU, THAT’S OKAY. Bullet journaling can still work out.
Some backstory: I graduated from college with an art major. I think it was a misguided attempt at validation or something–I’m not an art major type. I’m not even that good at art. I’m barely creative. I should’ve been an English major, but I was afraid of textual analysis and writing college essays.
Look at my BuJo pages. Just look at them. They’re not that exciting.
And yet, I’m still absolutely, 100% smitten with my journal. It’s a system that works for me, and even if my handwriting still looks like chicken scratch after all these years, that’s not what matters. What matters is the organizational power of the bullet journal. It is unmatched. Try it out–you won’t be disappointed. (In fact, you may become addicted. Just wait.)
*That’s what the cool kids call them.
Happy Leap Day! I’m sure many people have pointed this out throughout the years, but yesterday, I promise you, this was the first time it occurred to me: why in the world is it called a Leap Year? If anything, it should be called a Lag Year, because we’re not leaping over anything, we’re lagging, adding a whole extra day onto February.
It’s a Monday, and in just about 50 minutes I’ll be in the car and off to work at the eye doctor’s again. (Yeah, seriously. Last week felt like the longest week evah, and now I’ve got a whole nother week of it. Phew.) Since I have nothing planned for today, I’ll at least pacify you with some very silly pictures I’ve come across while digitizing my life. At the very least, they’re entertaining, right?
In other news, it’s really warming up here fast, so I finally bit the bullet and arranged my Warm Days Capsule last night. Tres exciting. I’ll share it on Wednesday.
Anyway, call me crazy if you will. I don’t mind. But I was making coffee this morning (see: Mastering Pourover) and suddenly a thought popped into my head. I wonder what would happen if I made coffee with tea?
No, not coffee blended with tea. Not a dirty chai, either–though I do love me a dirty chai. I mean actually brewing the coffee using steeped tea instead of water.
So you know what? I went ahead and tried it.
Yeah, it tasted sort of weird. Would do it again? Probably not, but it was fun! It was spontaneous! And let that be a lesson! To me, to you, to whomever. That sometimes, you just have to let loose and let the silly out.
My first year out of college, I worked at an eye doctor’s office as an optician. During my time there, I encountered some incredibly spoiled adults. I’m talking 50-somethings who would pitch fits because we didn’t have such-and-such a frame in stock, and because the manufacturer had stopped making the frame ten years prior. And after enough encounters, I resolved that I would never let myself turn into that person. That I would always retain some of that silliness that defined me back when I was in college.
Nowadays, it’s easy to forget that resolution. I have bills to pay, yo. Concerns. Things to take care of.
But you know what? I also have coftea. Even if it is made with decaf coffee because it’s 4:30 p.m. and I need to sleep tonight.
So, I recently had an opportunity to visit the Harry S. Truman Presidential Library and Museum. Not something I would have chosen myself, but it turned out to be an interesting trip nonetheless. I learned that the man was cheap, that his wife liked seafoam green, and that the term “The Buck Stops Here” (in conjunction with the lesser-known phrase “I’m From Missouri”) was a Trumanism. Read more
Le sigh. I tell myself this sort of thing every year. (Well, minus the whole 366-days-plus-new-president thing.) Because somehow, resetting the clock to zero makes everything seem fresh and sparkly and new. Chowing down on barbecue daily and getting sozzled on beer nightly? No problem! It’s January 1! You and your liver are as clear as Perrier! Haven’t worked out since December hit? Ain’t no thing. It’s January now. Read more
Not counting the eight-odd blog entries I wrote on this thing last year, I’ve sort of been off the map for two years. Shall I tell you what I’ve done in the mere span of (plus-or-minus) 24 months? Read more