jigsaw obsession and dirty aprons

I’m obsessed. It’s not totally my fault, though. My boyfriend is the one who pulled out the puzzle. Now I am hooked. It’s difficult for me to walk into the room and not want to sit in front of the half-complete, 1000 pieces of my current jigsaw puzzle.


Maybe I just have an obsessive personality. (Don’t answer that.) Maybe not, though. I obsess over certain little things, like my cuticles, where to put the comma, and yoga. However, the big things, like my career (“Where do you want to be in five years.” I hate that question), buying a house, or raising a family, not so much.


But the jigsaw puzzle. My mind won’t be at peace until the last piece is fitted snuggly into its cozy spot.* Why is that? There are other types of puzzles that stimulate your mind. Crossword puzzles. Sudoku. They’re good for you. Many believe that elderly who play crossword puzzles extend their lives, and according to one study at least, they cut the risk of developing Alzheimer's nearly in half**. (Yet another study out ofthe University of North Carolina at Chapel Hill says that there is no strong evidence that such activities actually prevent the disease.)


Either way, in my mind, the jigsaw puzzle is a subordinate form of puzzle than the crossword or sudoko, even. It's just not an intellectually stimulating activity.


So why obsess? Maybe because in its own way, the jigsaw puzzle, sort of, organises*** chaos. The thousand little pieces, at first, have no connection. Looking at them dumped onto the table, they are all different colors - some bland ones cardboard side up - and it can be overwhelming (it does me, anyway). But eventually it will all come together, piece by piece (of course, I start with the edge). And slowly, part by part, the picture as a whole comes clear.


I wouldn't want to equate that process with the process of life, and the chaos one seemingly endures from time to time -- that would be too obvious, wouldn't it? Yes, of course. Let's just say I enjoy the old-fashioned pastime for the sake of passing time, no point needed.

Which reminds me of the reason behind Kitch (sic). Just as the jigsaw puzzle is a bit old-fashioned, so too might be the subject matter herein (assuming I make it past the first post; I’ve written and deleted and procrastinated out of fear – why would anyone want to read my trite synaptic misfires?). I disclaim now that there might be a hard to follow theme (eclectic, some might say; kitchy to others; kitschy, yet, to others). That said, I can almost guarantee my next post will have nothing to do whatsoever with puzzles, or mental health, or organising one's dirty aprons in life. But, admittedly, it might have something to do with all the little obsessions in my life****. Consider yourself forewarned. And now, maybe consider taking on your own jigsaw, seeing as the weather is right for it and all.


* Just how at the end of the day, my mind isn’t at peace until I’m fitted snuggly into my cozy spot.


** Learn more: http://www.naturalnews.com/004403.html#ixzz1BJeSDVSb


*** Still confused and coming to terms with the proper use of "s" and"z" -- I blame Noah Webster for that. Yes, he is the one to blame.

**** Revision: There is one big thing I do find myself obsessing over, with a smile, of which I might write about at a later date.

BFF -- or FBB?

This scenario has happened more than once: me, sitting confused and hurt, wondering why I became friends with that person in the first place. I'm sure anyone who made it to kindergarten has felt the same emotion on some level. I remember a school play when I volunteered to bring in a "Zero" candy bar for my friend to use on stage (we were learning our numbers). I don't remember which number I played on stage, but I very much remember that after the play, she ate my white chocolate treat. I cried; she didn't even ask if I wanted it back. Today, I definitely would not cry. (Have you ever seen how white chocolate is made?)

However, I have felt a sense of betrayal by a good friend on more than one occassion, and over issues much more serious than a silly piece of candy. And so.... I have had to learn the hard way the value of loyalty. And forgiveness. It seems you can't have a true friendship without both. When do you let yourself get mad? When do you let yourself forgive? And, when do you make yourself stay mad?

The question is: How do you react to friends behaving badly (FBB)?

When I'm on the other side of that judgment equation, when I'm the one charged for crimes against friendships, I would want leniency. Yesterday, I broke my boyfriend's favorite coffee press. I was easily forgiven.* But in truth I've done worse. In high school, I dated a friend's boyfriend -- after they had broken up, yes. But still a horrible thing to do because she actually still liked the guy. I lost that friend for good, understandably, and for the wrong guy, not understandably. It helped me learn the lesson of loyalty. It took me much longer to learn about forgiveness.** I'm probably still learning both, to be honest.

Some pals are just impossible to throw away for good. They're the cockroaches of friends. You may get mad, you may fall out for a brief period (go into hiding under the Fridgedaire?). But when the seasons change, that friendship will see the light of day again, no matter what.

Unfortunately, I have also learned throughout the years, that there are some people who are worth letting slip into life's jet stream. Sometimes people or relationships that take more than they give and I've had to ask myself: is this really worth it? It's a painful process to come to the answer.

That said, it's also a good time to remember the value of loyalty, and no friendship should be tossed aside hastily. As I mentioned, there was a time when I was less than loyal and I learnt (or "learned" - which is proper?) through loss why it's so important. We have all been wronged by certain people along the way. Some of my friendships have been tested to the point of break-up. Some endured that test, and those friends over time are for certain the most precious. With this in mind, here is a little something I cobbled out on the subject.

An Indictment

You’re my friend --

Not a parent

Not a teacher

Not my boss.

So please don’t scold

Don’t preach

Don’t correct

Don’t pick one friend over another,

unless you want me to do the same --

to obstacle you when you’re on that path

towards hurt and torment.

I may resist

your words

like you resist mine

and that’s ok in our rulebook.

We have rules unwritten.

There is no need to document the fine line

between

our right and

our wrong --

rendered obsolete they will be

because even in the trial of our friendship

the end verdict will stay the same.

A life sentence: friends.

-Ariana

*I imagine if I were to shatter more than one piece of favoured glassware, that forgiveness would be a bit more hard won.

**Remind me to tell you that story one day.