|Image by Raymond Huerta|
Nowadays there is a list for everything. Ten ways to be happy. Ten ways to be happier than happy. Because I’m happy!!!!! Happy! I mean it’s kind of like that song. How about I make a list of why I hate lists. I am an anomaly I understand. And I’m just truly trying on discipline for size. But I haven’t gotten to lists yet.
Call me a rebel.
It all starts with the fact that I don’t really like numbers to begin with. There are always numbers involved with lists. Why do we have to numerically represent our lives? Why can’t we be free? If you can’t remember to do your laundry you won’t have clean underwear at some point and nothing to wear. Do you really need to put on a list: do laundry?
OK I’m a hypocrite, a total hypocrite. Because I like Franklin Planners. They are different kind of lists though. I mean I don’t mind lists with meaning. Like the kind of Franklin Planner that covers your social and spiritual needs. That is cool.
I know I know, make a decision.
To list or not to list?
This may surprise you but I’m not particularly organized. I wrote a five hundred-page novel without making an outline. I just think outlining would have impeded my creative flow. I NEVER considered doing it, nor were we taught to do that in grad school. Write they said to us. Just write. Keep writing and write more.
When I first entered school my professor told me I was terrible. She was later fired. Then the second semester I had another professor who asked me if I wanted to take a break from school she thought I was so bad. She was also fired a year later.
The next professor I had wanted to work with me on my novel, she liked my work. The last professor I had told me I might be the best writer in the program and said he didn’t know if he could run his class without me.
My point? I could make a list of reasons all these things happened to me. Maybe I did suck my first year. I truly don’t think I did, but I was told I did. Maybe I was a rock star in the end, well if I’m so good why is my book not published?
Ahhh, but it’s one book. Do you know how many books there are in the world? Let’s make a list shall we? In the whole scheme of the world it’s nothing. I will write another one and then another one.
My point? Can you really numerically define your life? Some mathematicians think that you can. I don’t particularly disagree or particularly understand myself. Math was the bane of my existence in school; in fact I think they would not let me out of honors math because I was Indian. I’m not kidding, I asked my counselor and she looked at me funny when I said I could not do math. She said it was better for me to stay in advanced math and do bad, then go into regular math. I don’t believe her.
It’s in my blood people. I mean it actually is: my father is a math genius.
However, both my grandfathers were very good at writing. In fact my one grandfather who lived to be nighty-eight wrote the Indian government letters until he was nighty-eight about getting his pension. They of course assumed he was dead, but he was not. He also wrote Bill Clinton letters, he was amazing.
My mother’s father wrote all the time. He wrote translations of the Sikh scriptures and other awesome things. His vocabulary and diction were outstanding; he makes me seem like a heathen. I mean my speak is a little bit colloquial at best, a little ungrammerly at worst. I don’t know if he would really ‘get’ my blog style of writing. Not sure.
Both my grandfathers, and my father and mother are list makers. My father now uses Siri to make lists because he can’t see. My mother uses scraps of paper.
This has in no way convinced me yet to be a list maker. My two best friends have tried to encourage me to make lists when I was depressed. I did do that, for like a day and then I just threw the lists away. I don’t know if that was the best idea. I mean I do well with discipline.
At one point I was really into the Franklin planner and thought I could plan my way to enlightenment. I’m not sure about that anymore, but you never know.
I could turn my blog posts into lists, like they do now in most publications. We stopped having conversations in magazines and just list out everything. It bores me.
I’ll tell you why:
1. I hate lists
2. I’m not organized
3. I hate numbers
4. I’m a hypocrite
That is what my blog would be if I listed it up. I think lists represent the first world problems in this way. I think it is very how should I say this, American, to make lists about every single thing. People just do in other countries. They just are.
I mean I know I’m extreme; I don’t even use a calendar. I write my appointments on scraps of paper, which I often lose. I try to remember my social plans, but I’m starting to forget. I know; I’m a hot mess.
Get it together nina. That’s what you want to say to me, isn’t it? Well I’m trying, and I might at least try to use my digital calendar now and then, especially since I have people writing blogs for me and doing interviews. How does one keep all that straight? God knows. Do you think god is a lister? I mean talk about someone who has got things to do. Or maybe he doesn’t do anything, maybe he just observes. Who knows?
Santa Clause definitely has a list.
Maybe I’ll list who’s naughty or nice.
Naughty, talk about a word I haven’t used in a long time. It’s kind of a dirty word now.
I should have a list of ideas to blog about, I usually just work from thin air. I’m so random.
How about a bucket list? This is what I would put on it:
1. Eat Thai curry from a coconut in Thailand
2. Stay in a hut on the beach in Bali
3. Learn and practice the Kama Sutra
4. Become enlightened
5. Help with world peace
6. Sell at least one bestselling book
7. Win Nobel Prize in Literature
There is more to that list but I can’t think anymore today…
How about a fuck it list? This is what it would be like:
1. Alarm Clocks---fuck them
2. Being stood up on a date---Fuck him
3. Ruining the Environment---Fuck the world
4. War---Fuck those who initiate it
5. People who don’t read—Fuck stupidity
6. Depression—Fuck It
7. Find a husband Fuck it
8. Learn Photoshop—Fuck it
9. Make a scrapbook—Fuck it
10. Work for the man---Fuck him (not literally)
11. Clean up contact/address book---Fuck it
12. Read spam emails---fuck it
13. Respond to candy crush requests---FUCK THAT
14. Delete apps on my phone—Fuck it
15. Clean up computer hard drive---Fuck it
16. How many times can I say the word ‘Fuck’ in one post?---Fuck it
And I could go on and on…
What’s your favorite thing to list? Share it with us: