I love the excuse that a new calendar provides for encouraging me to try new things, push myself, and break out of bad habits. But even though I've heard that it takes just three weeks to develop a new habit, my new year's resolutions always break down around week five or six. So this year, instead of attempting a 365-day resolution, I am considering trying something different: twelve one-month challenges.
This is Offbeat Home's archive of Philosophy posts.
Not everything on Offbeat Home centers around the physical. Sometimes being an Offbeat Homie is all about the mindset.
I'm a non-believer, but for me, Christmas has always been my favorite holiday for all the seasonal and festive reasons. I love the lights, the baking, the presents, the family togetherness time. Agnostic seasonal decor was a great post last year, but one of the unanswered questions, is what do you DO as a non-believer at Christmastime? If you're curious, these are my reflections, conclusions, and current practices as an Atheist as Christmas.
The video is part of a series from I Miss Drugs, a Twitter feed and a series of very short web videos that skewer the all-too-familiar-to-me life of the gently aging hipster. It reminds me a little bit of an update on Will Farrell's infamous "Maybe later we'll go to Bed Bath & Beyond" bit from Old School a decade ago… except of course they're making jokes about Etsy and Trader Joe's. Witness…
I am a shit housekeeper. My culinary background is in microwave dinners and take-out. I didn't think anything of it until it came time to move in with my now husband. We moved into a lovely house (check), I bought some lovely lipstick (check), I found a strand of pearls at a garage sale (check). So why the hell is the laundry always in a pile, the dishes never done, the floor all dirty and most of the things I cook are gross, mushy approximations of food?
I live in a Canadian border city. It is not urban; it's a collection of suburbs with giant malls as focal points. It's an inefficient arrangement, and it's exactly the type of town that's been torn down by the foreclosure crisis. It's the type of town that a group of architects and designers at the Museum of Modern Art in NYC would like to change. Running now until August 13th is the exhibit "Foreclosed: Rehousing the American Dream."
Rockethaus is pretty public. I run two blogs dealing specifically with homes, I tweet pretty much all the time, and I am also a normal Young Professional living in America. A LOT of my life happens online, publicly, where other people have access to it, even people I don't know terribly well. We talk about parties, problems, events, and projects, and we do a lot of it completely in the open. My mom would argue that it's dangerous for people to know where I live and what my habits are, but I prefer to think it's part of community building.
Kill your darlings is one of the writing terms which has become a mantra to me over the last year of homemaking.
You'll hear in writing courses and author's workshops across the nation: Kill your darlings. Supposedly advice from Faulkner, "kill your darlings" means letting go of your work — even when it is beautiful, hard-won work — in order to make progress in a piece of writing. That beautiful landscape description your readers will simply skip? That character you spent months developing but turns out to be unimportant to the plot? Off with their heads. On with your work.
Fuck your frame cluster. Fuck your decorative typewriter. Fuck your Eames rocker, your vintage map, your rotary phone and your card catalog. Fuck every inch of your sterile, homogeneous,"curated" apartment. Also, where did you get that throw pillow? It's gorgeous!