Gimme some more o’ that

Bed, Bath & Beyond

I guess what scares me about marriage is ‘where do you find this person?’  You know a lot of times, most successful relationships, people meet through work, school, mutual friends.  But what’s most interesting to me is when people just meet in life, just randomly. You know, I have a friend, he got married, I asked him like  “Hey, uh, where’d you meet your wife?”  He was like “I was leaving Bed, Bath & Beyond. I was looking for my car - I drive a grey Prius. I saw a different grey Prius, I thought it was mine, I walked up to it, I realized I had the wrong car, but I bumped into Carol, we started talking, that was that”. That’s unbelievable. Think about all the random factors that had to come together to make this one moment possible - this one moment that changed these two people’s entire lives:  First off, this guy has to live in this particular town. Then he has to get a grey Prius. Then he has to need to go to Bed, Bath & Beyond. Then he has to go to that particular Bed, Bath & Beyond. Then there has to be another guy who also lives in town, also drives a grey Prius, also needs to go to Bed, Bath & Beyond, also goes to that particular Bed, Bath & Beyond at around the same time. Then they have to both park somewhat near each other, my friend has to leave before the other guy leaves, see the wrong Prius, think it’s his, walk up to it. Then the woman, Carol, needs to be near the wrong grey Prius for a million other random reasons. They bump into each other, they start talking, their entire lives are changed. That’s the most amazing and terrifying thing about life. It is, cause the amazing thing is that at any moment, any one of us can have that moment that totally changes our lives.  You could be leaving the show tonight, bump into someone… it could change your life.  You don’t know, that could happen.  The terrifying thing is… what if we’re all supposed to be at Bed Bath & Beyond right now?”

— Aziz Ansari

Water is Life

A four year old’s bucket list… and now I’m sobbing at my desk in work.

Support here.

Rubber Gloves: a love story

There was once a great American surgeon named Halsted. He was married to a nurse. He loved her immeasurably. One day Halsted noticed that his wife’s hands were chapped and red when she came back from surgery. And so he invented rubber gloves. For her. It is one of the great love stories in medicine. The difference between inspired medicine and uninspired medicine is love.

- from The Clean House, by Sarah Ruhl

Best of… September 2013

via Sorakeem

In the rest of the world, September is about transitional dressing.  Seriously, it’s all you bloggers talk about the whole month long.  Meanwhile, in Ireland, we’re all engaging in a collective eye-roll, because that ‘transition’ you speak of is imperceptible here.  It’s just an abrupt switch.  One minute Woodies DIY is selling out of barbeques and the next minute it’s electric heaters.  It’s that quick.  Game over.

It seems unfair because I like the idea of getting another couple of months out of my Summer dresses and introducing my Winter staples bit by bit.  I think we Irish can still embrace the pseudo-transition by focusing on colour: Autumn make-up trends, earthy toned threads and no more fake tan!  Yes!

via Sorakeem

via Sincerely Jules

The two pairs of booties featured above are both by Isabel Marant.  I have the latter in black, which indicates two things:  1.)  I have very good taste in booties and 2.)  I won’t be able to afford the first pair (or the white trainer pair) anytime soon.  Le sigh!

via Sincerely Jules

via Cocogroove

Any discussion of colour is going to have a link to Cocogroove.  My girl Marta knows colour.  I wish I could say ‘My girl…’ with some conviction.  Moving on… on my wardrobe wishlist:  Cobalt blue and army green.  And jumpsuits, always and forever.

via Fashion Toast

Newsflash:  Rumi does Monochrome.  Okay, that’s not news, but it’s not really old news yet either.  So perfect. 

via The Sartorialist

And finally, Scott is making me fall in love with random strangers on the street again.  His n’ hers versions of that above.

Next up: October, and then we’re all caught up.  Peace out! 

I know!  I can’t say ‘peace out’ with any conviction either. 

Bastille: No Scrubs

I’m in love with Dan Smith’s brain.  And this song is the most underrated of the century.  There, I said it.

Now, who will drive around old country roads singing this tune with me?  I’ll marry you… if you like?

Rap Poems

Rappers ‘gon rap about some stupid stuff, that I, as a classy lady, don’t usually concern myself with.  But today, I spent a bit of time pondering the poetry of rap lyrics.

Check it, aite.

Best of… August 2013

August was quite some time ago and we’re all thinking about our Winter wardrobes now.  I have issues letting go, and Summer will have my claw marks on it well into November.   Still, our August-brains can still inspire dressing at this time of year.  Right?

via Le Blog de Betty

via Cocogroove

via Facehunter

via Fashion Toast

via The Locals

via The Sartorialist

via Sincerely Jules

via Trop Rouge

Bye bye Summer. 

Excuse me. *runs off sobbing

little t will be back on November 1st

I’ve received a few (borderline) angry emails about the lull in posting.  I’m sorry!  Can we all just agree to blame it on ‘technical difficulties’ for now?  I’m definitely not going anywhere and little t will be back very soon, new and improved and better than ever.  Or just as good as it was before… at least.

Morning Surf

Scott’s Morning Surf post makes me want to be in Montauk. 

Lashes

I’ve worn false lashes a handful of times, and while I love them for night-time, I find they can look a little dramatic for daytime events.  I have smallish eyes too and sometimes, looking back on pictures, I think I look like a cat.  But how about these corner lashes?  The placement gives an eye-widening effect and I love the subtler result.

Do it for her

For those of you who are not Simpsons fans (really?), Homer first worked at the Nuclear Plant to earn enough money to repay his debt. Once he had done that, he quit his job to work at the bowling alley: his dream job.  Then Marge got pregnant with Maggie and he realised his new gig couldn’t support them.  Depressed, he had to beg Mr. Burns for his old job back.  Mr.Burns granted him the position and put up a plaque that read “Don’t Forget: You’re Here Forever.”  In this episode, when Lisa asks Homer where all Maggie’s baby pictures went, Homer explains that he keeps them where he needs them the most.

This is The Simpsons, so why is my face wet?

I got a job!

I’m enjoying my last few days of freedom.  Pretty soon, I’m sure I’ll be feeling like this.  But for now… yay!

George Saunders on Being Kind

I don’t often post entire speeches on little t, but then it’s not often someone’s words touch me like George Saunders’ did in his convocation speech to the class of 2013 at Syracuse University. 

This is so beautiful.  Please read it.

Down through the ages, a traditional form has evolved for this type of speech, which is: Some old fart, his best years behind him, who, over the course of his life, has made a series of dreadful mistakes (that would be me), gives heartfelt advice to a group of shining, energetic young people, with all of their best years ahead of them (that would be you).

And I intend to respect that tradition.

Now, one useful thing you can do with an old person, in addition to borrowing money from them, or asking them to do one of their old-time “dances,” so you can watch, while laughing, is ask: “Looking back, what do you regret?”  And they’ll tell you.  Sometimes, as you know, they’ll tell you even if you haven’t asked.  Sometimes, even when you’ve specifically requested they not tell you, they’ll tell you.

So: What do I regret?  Being poor from time to time?  Not really.  Working terrible jobs, like “knuckle-puller in a slaughterhouse?”  (And don’t even ASK what that entails.)  No.  I don’t regret that.  Skinny-dipping in a river in Sumatra, a little buzzed, and looking up and seeing like 300 monkeys sitting on a pipeline, pooping down into the river, the river in which I was swimming, with my mouth open, naked?  And getting deathly ill afterwards, and staying sick for the next seven months?  Not so much.  Do I regret the occasional humiliation?  Like once, playing hockey in front of a big crowd, including this girl I really liked, I somehow managed, while falling and emitting this weird whooping noise, to score on my own goalie, while also sending my stick flying into the crowd, nearly hitting that girl?  No.  I don’t even regret that.

But here’s something I do regret:

In seventh grade, this new kid joined our class.  In the interest of confidentiality, her Convocation Speech name will be Ellen. Ellen was small, shy.  She wore these blue cat’s-eye glasses that, at the time, only old ladies wore.  When nervous, which was pretty much always, she had a habit of taking a strand of hair into her mouth and chewing on it.

So she came to our school and our neighbourhood, and was mostly ignored, occasionally teased (“Your hair taste good?” – that sort of thing).  I could see this hurt her.  I still remember the way she’d look after such an insult: eyes cast down, a little gut-kicked, as if, having just been reminded of her place in things, she was trying, as much as possible, to disappear.  After awhile she’d drift away, hair-strand still in her mouth.  At home, I imagined, after school, her mother would say, you know: “How was your day, sweetie?” and she’d say, “Oh, fine.”  And her mother would say, “Making any friends?” and she’d go, “Sure, lots.”

Sometimes I’d see her hanging around alone in her front yard, as if afraid to leave it.

And then – they moved.  That was it.  No tragedy, no big final hazing.

One day she was there, next day she wasn’t.

End of story.

Now, why do I regret that?  Why, forty-two years later, am I still thinking about it?  Relative to most of the other kids, I was actually pretty nice to her.  I never said an unkind word to her.  In fact, I sometimes even (mildly) defended her.

But still.  It bothers me.
So here’s something I know to be true, although it’s a little corny, and I don’t quite know what to do with it:

What I regret most in my life are failures of kindness.

Those moments when another human being was there, in front of me, suffering, and I responded…sensibly.  Reservedly.  Mildly.

Or, to look at it from the other end of the telescope:  Who, in your life, do you remember most fondly, with the most undeniable feelings of warmth?

Those who were kindest to you, I bet.

It’s a little facile, maybe, and certainly hard to implement, but I’d say, as a goal in life, you could do worse than: Try to be kinder.

Now, the million-dollar question:  What’s our problem?  Why aren’t we kinder?

Here’s what I think:

Each of us is born with a series of built-in confusions that are probably somehow Darwinian.  These are: (1) we’re central to the universe (that is, our personal story is the main and most interesting story, the only story, really); (2) we’re separate from the universe (there’s US and then, out there, all that other junk – dogs and swing-sets, and the State of Nebraska and low-hanging clouds and, you know, other people), and (3) we’re permanent (death is real, o.k., sure – for you, but not for me).

Now, we don’t really believe these things – intellectually we know better – but we believe them viscerally, and live by them, and they cause us to prioritize our own needs over the needs of others, even though what we really want, in our hearts, is to be less selfish, more aware of what’s actually happening in the present moment, more open, and more loving.

So, the second million-dollar question:  How might we DO this?  How might we become more loving, more open, less selfish, more present, less delusional, etc., etc?

Well, yes, good question.

Unfortunately, I only have three minutes left.

So let me just say this.  There are ways.  You already know that because, in your life, there have been High Kindness periods and Low Kindness periods, and you know what inclined you toward the former and away from the latter.  Education is good; immersing ourselves in a work of art: good; prayer is good; meditation’s good; a frank talk with a dear friend;  establishing ourselves in some kind of spiritual tradition – recognizing that there have been countless really smart people before us who have asked these same questions and left behind answers for us.

Because kindness, it turns out, is hard – it starts out all rainbows and puppy dogs, and expands to include…well,everything.

One thing in our favor:  some of this “becoming kinder” happens naturally, with age.  It might be a simple matter of attrition:  as we get older, we come to see how useless it is to be selfish – how illogical, really.  We come to love other people and are thereby counter-instructed in our own centrality.  We get our butts kicked by real life, and people come to our defense, and help us, and we learn that we’re not separate, and don’t want to be.  We see people near and dear to us dropping away, and are gradually convinced that maybe we too will drop away (someday, a long time from now).  Most people, as they age, become less selfish and more loving.  I think this is true.  The great Syracuse poet, Hayden Carruth, said, in a poem written near the end of his life, that he was “mostly Love, now.”

And so, a prediction, and my heartfelt wish for you: as you get older, your self will diminish and you will grow in love.  YOU will gradually be replaced by LOVE.   If you have kids, that will be a huge moment in your process of self-diminishment.  You really won’t care what happens to YOU, as long as they benefit.  That’s one reason your parents are so proud and happy today.  One of their fondest dreams has come true: you have accomplished something difficult and tangible that has enlarged you as a person and will make your life better, from here on in, forever.

Congratulations, by the way.

When young, we’re anxious – understandably – to find out if we’ve got what it takes.  Can we succeed?  Can we build a viable life for ourselves?  But you – in particular you, of this generation – may have noticed a certain cyclical quality to ambition.  You do well in high-school, in hopes of getting into a good college, so you can do well in the good college, in the hopes of getting a good job, so you can do well in the good job so you can….

And this is actually O.K.  If we’re going to become kinder, that process has to include taking ourselves seriously – as doers, as accomplishers, as dreamers.  We have to do that, to be our best selves.

Still, accomplishment is unreliable.  “Succeeding,” whatever that might mean to you, is hard, and the need to do so constantly renews itself (success is like a mountain that keeps growing ahead of you as you hike it), and there’s the very real danger that “succeeding” will take up your whole life, while the big questions go untended.

So, quick, end-of-speech advice: Since, according to me, your life is going to be a gradual process of becoming kinder and more loving: Hurry up.  Speed it along.  Start right now.  There’s a confusion in each of us, a sickness, really: selfishness.  But there’s also a cure.  So be a good and proactive and even somewhat desperate patient on your own behalf – seek out the most efficacious anti-selfishness medicines, energetically, for the rest of your life.

Do all the other things, the ambitious things – travel, get rich, get famous, innovate, lead, fall in love, make and lose fortunes, swim naked in wild jungle rivers (after first having it tested for monkey poop) – but as you do, to the extent that you can, err in the direction of kindness.  Do those things that incline you toward the big questions, and avoid the things that would reduce you and make you trivial.  That luminous part of you that exists beyond personality – your soul, if you will – is as bright and shining as any that has ever been.  Bright as Shakespeare’s, bright as Gandhi’s, bright as Mother Theresa’s.  Clear away everything that keeps you separate from this secret luminous place.  Believe it exists, come to know it better, nurture it, share its fruits tirelessly.

And someday, in 80 years, when you’re 100, and I’m 134, and we’re both so kind and loving we’re nearly unbearable, drop me a line, let me know how your life has been.  I hope you will say: It has been so wonderful.

Congratulations, Class of 2013.

I wish you great happiness, all the luck in the world, and a beautiful summer.

via Sho & Tell

What You’re Having for Breakfast

Can you trust me when I tell you that you’re going to love this?  I’ve never lied to you before.  To make this healthy breakfast platter for two, chop up a pineapple, empty a carton of blueberries in the middle, squeeze the fresh lime wedges over and top with Rachel Allen’s Coconut Greek Yogurt.  You didn’t need those instructions – it’s all there in the picture.  The combination is mouth-wateringly good.  You’ll see.  (Fiona made this for me… thanks Fi!)