Caped Gooseberry – Page 21 – Deborah Makarios

September 6, 2014

Relax!

It is one of the interesting variations between humans that we find different ways to relax – or perhaps more precisely, that we relax in different ways. What produces the effect of relaxation in one person will have a completely different effect on another.

Case in point: the Caped Gooseberry finds strategy games a fun unwinding leisure-form, while I can feel my blood pressure rising just thinking about them.

Contrariwise, I find few things more relaxing than curling up on the couch watching a DVD, but for the Caped Gooseberry it’s more an energy-user than an energy-giver. And so it goes.

When we were preparing to marry, our minister suggested that we might need to put some effort into finding ‘mutually enjoyable leisure activities’, and how truly she spoke.

This is one of the reasons why we so often read aloud to each other: it’s a leisure activity we both enjoy. This works in well with another favourite form of relaxation for me: handwork (as long as it’s going well and I don’t have a deadline hanging over my head). It is particularly handy as I am not yet skilled enough to knit and read at the same time.

My favourite form of relaxation, however, is strictly solitaire: chain-reading. Generally I chain-read books I’ve read before, or books of a genre I am familiar with – nothing that requires too much focus. I do of course read mentally stimulating books, but not when I’m tired and stressed. Then I read to relax: Christie, Marsh, Wentworth, Sayers et cetera.

When I’m really stressed, I can feel the itch to sit down with a book almost as a physical symptom – unfortunate if the stress is due to the old problem of So Much To Do, So Little Time. Addict? Perhaps.

Perhaps I should consider other ways we can combine our relaxations. The pair in the first photo inspired me to consider strategy drinking games – tea drinking of course. Except the Caped Gooseberry doesn’t care for tea at the best of times, and adding the bitter taste of defeat would probably not improve the flavour in his eyes.

Who am I kidding? The game would probably end with him triumphing by strategy while I drown my sorrows in tea, as yet untasted by the gentleman in question.

Any other ideas? And how do you relax?

August 23, 2014

I Don't Wear Make-Up

The first time the Caped Gooseberry saw me fully made up was our wedding day. It was also the last time. It wasn’t that heavy, either, because I didn’t want to be one of those brides you only recognize because no-one else would have the gall to wear white. I wanted to look like me. And I don’t wear make-up.

It’s not that I have ethical objections to make-up per se (unless it’s tested on animals). It’s just that it isn’t a part of my life and I don’t see that it needs to be.

There are some women who love to wear and experiment with make-up. Good for them. Making yourself up can be fun. And if you’re having fun with it, have fun with it! Why limit yourself to the one look ordained by culture’s present demands for thin brows, full lips, large eyes?

But far too many women wear make-up because they feel they have to, and that makes me boiling mad. Is it any wonder that women and girls have such low opinions of themselves and their appearance when we practically trumpet at them that “You Are Naturally Sub-Par!”?

And then they internalize it. What I find most tragic is women acknowledging that it’s a pain getting ready for display in the mornings, but then defending the reasons why they ‘have’ to – it’s more professional, everyone else does, I look washed-out without it.

Really, can anyone explain to me how wearing a thin layer of complicated chemicals on my face is going to boost my job performance? I’m not in the alleged world’s oldest profession.

Not the world’s oldest profession: telephone exchange operator.

Okay, if you’re the kind of woman who puts on make-up when she gets dressed, then yeah, not wearing make-up will give you a bit of a schlepping-around-in-the-dressing-gown feel, which can lower productivity.
But if you are that kind of woman, you probably don’t need to be told to wear make-up; you’re wearing it anyway. And if you aren’t that kind of woman, how is it supposed to help?

If your boss insists that you wear make-up, why not come to work as a goth? or a geisha? or a clown? or simply wearing the White Hand of Saruman?

As for looking washed-out, I find it very disturbing that we are conditioning ourselves to interpret female faces in their natural state as “sick” or “tired” – simply because we are used to seeing women made up to a certain level of tone or colour.

There is nothing wrong with your face the way it is. I don’t care if you’re old and wrinkly, young and spotty, or even piebald from vitiligo.
There is nothing wrong with your face the way it is.

What’s your stance on make-up? Love it, hate it, wish you didn’t have to but do anyway? I’d be interested to hear your thoughts!

August 10, 2014

Guilt-Free!

They say that guilt is like pain: it’s there to tell you something’s wrong, so you can fix it. And this is true – or at least it can be. Sometimes, though, you feel guilty for something you really shouldn’t feel guilty for.

Eating, for example. Unless you’re eating in a self-destructive way, you shouldn’t feel guilty for eating. Eating food with more calories than celery is how you fuel your body, not a transgression that requires penitential exercise to exorcise. As it were.

(Speaking of celery, I’ve heard that it takes more energy to consume than you actually receive from it; which suggests it’s only good for three things: carrying dip, making loud crunchy noises, or wearing on your lapel.)

Generally speaking, I avoid food that’s labelled “guilt-free!” because a) I don’t want to fund that kind of thinking, and b) they might as well label the food “taste was not our priority”.

I admit, eating is not something I tend to feel guilty about. But, as the Caped Gooseberry gently pointed out to me the other day, I do tend to set goals or targets for myself and then feel guilty if I don’t meet them.

As guilty, mark you, as I would feel if I had broken some more important rule, such as “Do Not Kick That Puppy”. Now there is nothing wrong with having a moral code (the puppies of the world thank you) but to put everything at the same level lacks perspective.

On the other hand, setting goals can be good, and having targets is about the only way to reach them. The problem is when the goals become, as it were, a measuring stick to beat yourself with.

What to do?

I have set myself the goal of finishing the first full draft of my WIP by the end of the month. I’ve rearranged my daily round so I have two blocks of writing time each day: three hours in the morning and two hours in the afternoon; and this has definitely helped kick the productivity into high gear. But there’s still no guarantee that I will reach the end of the story by the end of the month.

So I have to keep reminding myself that it’s ok; that I will have made a huge and pleasing amount of progress even if I don’t write “The End” on the day I desire, and I do not need to feel guilty if I don’t.

This goes hand in hand with reminding myself that I haven’t “failed” for the day – or the month – if I start a little late or don’t manage as many pages as the day before. Guilt can be crippling, and that leads to further failure – the genuine failure of giving up altogether.

It’s worth asking yourself, the next time you’re feeling guilty: have I really kicked a puppy? Or is this guilt a false friend who should be shown the door?