Category Archives: Grownup stuff

Life moves fast. Perhaps my girlfriends and I haven’t yet developed the vocabulary to describe our realization of this, so lately, we’ve been calling many of our observations “weird.”

It’s so weird that Jess is getting married. It’s so weird that we’ve been out of high school for 10 years. It’s so weird that we only have 7 or 8 years before a pregnancy would be considered higher-risk. It’s so weird that our parents are in their 60s. It’s so weird that we’re … adults.

Once a week, I visit my grandmother, who lives nearby. I grew up in her home. My parents both worked so every day, she and my grandfather would pick me and my sister up from school and we’d stay with them for hours. Twenty years later, we still sit at the same counter and eat the same Chinese noodle dishes while chatting with her about our daily happenings.

Tonight, my sister called me at work and wanted me to meet her at Grandma’s for dinner. I told her I can’t, I’m on deadline and so stressed out, no. But she had a bunch of stuff to give me and this might be the only time I’d see her this week, so I sighed and said okay.

As I stood outside waiting at the door, I looked around at the houses and the cars and the trees and thought, “This is weird.” It’s so weird that this is the house where I used to watch Alvin and the Chipmunks while eating cumquats after school. It’s so weird that this is where my then-BFF and I would play M.A.S.H. and prank call boys and talk about the girl at school who already got her first period. It’s so weird that this is where my sister and I fought and loved daily. It’s so weird that this was also the home of my grandfather, the kindest man who I didn’t know well enough.

It’s so weird where my life has taken me — to college, to other states, to a career I’m grateful for, to Matt, to now. It’s so weird that this place on this earth is where my life was and is and likely will always be. It’s so weird, the concepts of time and generations. It’s so weird.

I can’t yet grasp it all. So for now, I stand here stunned and in awe.

I often feel like a colossal screw-up (those resolutions? failfailfailfailfail), but there’s one thing I’m actually doing, well, well. People, it’s been nearly two weeks and my room is still clean. You don’t understand. I haven’t had a clean room for two weeks straight since forever. It feels so good, I could do a cartwheel across my (clutter-free!) floor if I knew how to do a cartwheel. It’s like I’m a new person. Ask me if you could borrow a pair of pajama pants. Do it! “Michelle, can I borrow a pair of pajama pants?” SURE, SECOND DRAWER TO THE RIGHT OF THE WORKOUT PANTS! Magical, isn’t it? Pet me.

I would describe in detail how monumental this is for me, but my brain is pretty fried this week. Post holiday/magazine production wipe-out, I suppose. Though I think this post from my old blog wraps it up nicely. Read and cringe.

February 1, 2006

It was today I learned that I am a mess. Sure, I’ve made this realization a thousand times before, but it was never so clear, never so paralyzing. Today, it was like the clouds parted and an echoing voice boomed down saying, “Michelle………..you are a mess.”

It all started this morning at work when I went to answer the phone and the entire phone lifted up off the table because the cord had somehow tangled into a small mass. As I listened to the PR lady on the line ramble on, scrambling to find a pen underneath my piles of papers, post-its and lipglosses WHILE THE ENTIRE PHONE WAS DANGLING FROM MY EAR, my eyes slowly gazed from cubicle to cubicle. Then it hit me. Nobody EXCEPT ME has a telephone cord that is tangled into a small mass!!! I realized that normal grown-ups are perpetually detangling their phone cords. If they see that it has become twisted, they will gracefully unwind it in an effort to prevent clunky mishaps such as, say, an entire phone dangling from their ear.

Or perhaps it was this afternoon, when I decided to take the long way to the elevator so that I could make a stop at the water fountain to refill my bottle. The moment I stepped through the elevator doors, I let out an audible “Awww shiiiiet” as I looked down at my bottle and saw that it was empty.

And what kind of normal human being decides to hold in her pee because she’s too lazy to untie the new sequin wrap belt she spent a minute triple knotting? No, no normal human being does this. Only me.

Sigh. My desk is a mess, my room is a mess, and my life – oh my poor pathetic life, is a deep dark hole of disorganization, forgetfulness, thoughtless actions and mess. (P.S. This post has no fluidity. It’s a mess, too.)

Through the years, people have tried intervention. For my birthday a few years ago, my roomies Natasha and Lisa guided me through a scavenger hunt with “tasks” that included taking out the trash and washing the dishes. Desiree bought me a Little Miss Scatterbrain book. I never got the hint. I just found it endearing. A couple weeks ago, Megan crawled beneath my desk and picked up scraps of my lunch as we searched for a missing bracelet. And Matt made me a magnetic board labeled “receipts” and “bills.” Of course, disregarding its purpose and functionality, I used it to display old party pics.

I believe that organization can make your life cleaner and richer. If I had some in my life, maybe I would’ve been accepted into a higher ratio of colleges — you don’t know how many times in high school I murmured to my neighbor “Huh? What homework?” Maybe this is why I have fallen off the path to stardom, settling now for the title of Second-Most Famous Michelle Woo in the World, according to Google.

I lack all the qualities necessary for entering adult society. And yet I am here, clinging on for dear life. I’m surprised I haven’t spontaneously combusted due to an OD on flaming hot cheetos (I lack self-control) or bled to death from a paper cut while handling the countless parking tickets I’ve racked up in my driving career (I can’t keep track of time).

Why am I like this? You can only blame your parents so much. And even my little sister has a day planner. Whatever, the reason, it seems almost too late to fix me.

What should I do? New Year’s resolutions never work. Neither does sitting next to my ridiculously meticulous co-workers. Should I tell my parents to send me to the military? It’d be cool to get a crew cut. I’d never have to brush my hair. Though I forget to do that anyway.

Saw this on Design For Mankind today:

“By lifting your field of vision to chimney level, your body is able to lift your mood.”

Via Alex Ostrowski

I’ve been feeling pretty crummy lately, just burnt out and frustrated, but when I saw this and followed its advice, my mood changed instantly.

I remembered a post I wrote two years ago on my old website while I was working at a big newspaper in Arizona. I’d like to share it because it’s sort of how I’m feeling now and also because … I got nothing else.

September 2, 2006

Back in college, someone once told me that there’s an easy way to tell the freshmen from the seniors on Ring Road: Freshmen look up. Seniors look down. It’s true. Like, when you’re a freshman, you feel so remarkably small. And your new world seems so big, so endless. So you jump into it. And swim. But slowly, the excitement starts to fade (tall shiny buildings, Asian boys galore — who cares?) And instead of gazing in awe, it’s more like, ‘Just get me to my class. No, I don’t want to join Kappa Kappa Kappa. No, I don’t want to apply for a credit card to get a free paper weight…ooh…or do I?’ And toward the end, as scared as you might be, you start to feel like there’s something even bigger waiting for you somewhere.

But now, three years out of college, I’m realizing that it’s easy to get stuck in the same cycle. You should have seen how obnoxious I was at my first internship in Palm Springs. One of my first assignments was to tag along with this education reporter to a school board meeting. (Um, have you ever been to a school board meeting? Imagine death, only with Roman numerals). While he was driving me back to the newsroom, I was giddy. “Oh my gosh. I can’t believe you do this for a living. It totally doesn’t seem like work,” I said. He looked at me with disgust.

This morning, wearing a wrinkled shirt and holding a can of Red Bull, I gave a sluggish nod to the parking attendant and walked, head down, to my building. And I thought about the whole freshman/senior thing. And it scared me. This ‘pond’ I’m in right now is pretty freakin’ gigantic and there’s no way I’ve already outgrown it. And then I thought, ‘Hmmmmmmmm. Maybe it’s not the pond that needs chaging, but the fish’ (yes, I’m rolling my eyes at myself too). I don’t know. I don’t really have any more answers, but I do know that in college, the most wonderful parts came much after the newness faded. When I stopped caring so much about doing everything and started letting go, embracing the people and places I’d already found.

So, relax. Slow down. Smile.

And, look up.

Think I overscheduled myself for this month. I’m digging my face in my palm as we speak. I won’t list all my responsibilities here (trust me — they’re so not exciting to you), but I’ve rattled them off several times to my boyfriend. “And then I have to do this. Oh, and this. And I volunteered for this. And they’re making me do this.” Somehow, saying them aloud gives me credibility. It’s not bad, though. It’s actually good. These are all things I want to do, more or less. Or things that could lead to something else. Because ultimately, I want something else.

Wow, Michelle, that paragraph was extremely vague and I’m kind of upset you made me read it.

I’m sorry. Here, have a print.

Which reminds me, I have shit to do.