12 January 2008

eres un tiquis miquis

My obsessive-compulsive nature befuddles even me most of the time. It’s funny to have a part of my personality that I can’t make much rational sense of. But what can I say? Sometimes… thankfully less + less as I come to know myself better… my need for order steps in as my major driving force. Suddenly she’s the biggest, ugliest passenger in the late-model, fuel-guzzling car that is my brain… + she’s leapt into the front seat to take control of the wheel!

Case in point – I’ve got a pretty busy day lined up. I have to fit in a couple of hours work in the Gong (boo) before heading up to Sydney to catch an old uni friend for a drink + then see Sufjan Stevens with Mewi (yay). I’ve had a mini sleep-in + enjoyed a slowish start to the day, whilst being conscious that there’s lots to do + not that much time in which to do it. In the midst of making my morning cuppa I was hit by the sudden compulsive ‘need’ to clean the dishwasher. I could put up with its crusty residue not one second longer, in spite of having endured it for six months so far. So all deadlines + constraints are thrown to one side while I take time out to scrub the dishwasher. What a dork!

The happy side of this story is that – believe it or not – there are lots of other people out there battling the dark side + I know I’m not alone. I also know I’m on the sane end of OCD + lucky enough not to be a hand-washer or oven-checker. Plenty of us contend with a minor anal-retentive streak in some dimension of our lives, + learn to live with that in a way that doesn’t impair our existences too badly. Other people are completely controlled by a bigger, scarier streak. I suspect it’s a pretty fine line between the two, but I’m happy to be on my side of the line.

It’s a bit rough to be subjecting y’all to stories about anal streaks this early in the morning – sorry! But it’s also funny to think about how the word ‘anal’ has entered into contemporary vernacular + all the meanings this word has taken on. I have fond memories of discussing retentive tendencies with a group of girlfriends, somewhere quite public, + one of them calling out “Anal? I love anal!” to much general hilarity. You gotta watch those words!

I had to laugh when Bec sent me her latest Spanish catchphrase yesterday, translated as you are anal. Yes I am! But hey, I’m learning to deal. Now! Back to the day’s schedule. Better just check that I locked the door behind me ;)

01 January 2008


i'm living my life like it's golden
living my life like it's golden

i'm taking my freedom
pulling it off the shelf
puttin' it on my chain
wearing it 'round my neck
i'm taking my freedom
puttin' it in my car
wherever i choose to go
it will take me far

i'm taking my own freedom
puttin' it in my song
singing loud and strong
proving all day long
i'm takin' my freedom
puttin' it in my stroll
i'll be hop-steppin' y'all
lettin' the joy unfold

i'm holdin' on to my freedom
can't take it from me
i was born into it, it comes naturally
i'm strumming my own freedom
playing the god in me
representing his glory
hope he's proud of me...

i'm living my life like it's golden
living my life like it's golden

‘golden’, Jill Scott