tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-52468562826665938792024-03-13T08:55:47.126-04:00The Wrinkled LifeImperfect living for the perfectionist in all of usM. Renee Buckleyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00277293421629474546noreply@blogger.comBlogger21125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5246856282666593879.post-18362227564561995312011-04-04T19:03:00.010-04:002011-04-04T19:50:42.835-04:00Aren't we amazing?When I say "we" in the title of this post, I'm talking about all of us. Everyone reading this. And everyone else, too. When I ask, "Aren't we amazing?" I'm talking about the amazing way we all find ways to talk ourselves out of something, before we've even begun. Most times before we've even finished the thought of that something.It goes something like this (this just happened to me, right beforeM. Renee Buckleyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00277293421629474546noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5246856282666593879.post-86947003607233034872011-04-04T19:03:00.001-04:002011-04-04T19:03:31.450-04:00M. Renee Buckleyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00277293421629474546noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5246856282666593879.post-65465585592179438822011-01-12T18:50:00.012-05:002011-01-13T14:38:21.426-05:00This isn't workingAdmitting that an endeavor you've embarked on is not working is not easy for a perfectionist. The difficulty of admitting this may be a close relative to the trait of not being able to admit you're wrong. This is just occurring to me as I write this.Today was a day in which I was forced to grapple with the realization that a job I took on was just not working out. And realizing this did not go M. Renee Buckleyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00277293421629474546noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5246856282666593879.post-55368101348192520122010-02-20T18:13:00.007-05:002010-02-20T18:35:45.664-05:00Ouch ... dates don't lie. It's been six months. But I'm going to write this anyway.Most people would be embarrassed to have started a blog, let it go for a few months, then started again ever so enthusiastically, only to once again let it go for even longer. Six months, to be exact. But strangely, not me.I feel a little lame, of course. Actually, a lot lame. But I know this blog is a good idea, so here I am again, Feb. 20, 2010, a whopping six months since my last post, gettingM. Renee Buckleyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00277293421629474546noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5246856282666593879.post-36809701454055820872009-08-27T20:36:00.018-04:002009-08-27T21:11:01.941-04:00Being practical is overratedI've always described myself as very practical, because I am, and think I've worn that trait as some sort of badge.I'd imagine a lot of people who describe themselves as perfectionists would probably also consider themselves practical. Practical generally means being useful, and I doubt many perfectionists would do something that wasn't useful. Being useless would definitely not be perfect.But I M. Renee Buckleyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00277293421629474546noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5246856282666593879.post-3385273333876161622009-08-16T21:07:00.017-04:002009-08-16T21:47:52.642-04:00A rant: Don't tell me what day these pants are forI just stopped what I was doing to come compose this rant, because I just realized something that affects me more than it should, and I'm wondering if it's just me. I was just moments ago flipping through a clothing catalogue my mother had left on my kitchen table, after getting home from a nice dinner out with a friend. I was enjoying the fact that I had nothing to do so why not stop and flip M. Renee Buckleyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00277293421629474546noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5246856282666593879.post-50723678556113449322009-08-04T15:26:00.007-04:002009-08-04T15:41:04.900-04:00Ankle-deep, and we're not talkin' the pool hereThis week's post is short and sweet, thanks in part to the double deadlines I've got at work this week. Also, there's not much more to say on this little wrinkled life lesson than this:We all know sweating the small stuff is stupid, a waste of time, a big waste of energy, and a really big annoyance not just to ourselves, but to the poor souls closest to us. It just so happens that trying to avoidM. Renee Buckleyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00277293421629474546noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5246856282666593879.post-68563787213453647162009-07-27T14:53:00.036-04:002009-07-27T20:39:10.729-04:00Beach bummed: How could this be?Something happened to me this weekend that I never thought was possible: I got kinda freaked out when I found myself at the beach without a book or anything "to do."This shocked me because (a), I LOVE the beach and often claim I could never live where the beach was not a short drive away; and (b), I'm one of those people who can pass loads of time just shuffling around my house, doing absolutely M. Renee Buckleyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00277293421629474546noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5246856282666593879.post-55632708078936034772009-07-21T21:43:00.011-04:002009-07-21T21:59:20.012-04:00A wrinkled party is better than no partyAs new homeowners during the past year, we’ve had two kinds of get-togethers: Impromptu, and pre-planned.As stress-inducing as it is for a perfectionist to think about an impromptu party landing in her hands -- “Wait … no over-analyzing of the perfect menu depending on who’s coming with the perfect amount of snacks, side dishes and accompanying beverages? How scary!” -- these have actually alwaysM. Renee Buckleyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00277293421629474546noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5246856282666593879.post-82646923294041432572009-07-12T23:42:00.044-04:002009-07-13T15:35:59.928-04:00My couch may be ruining my lifeI think I may be hypocrite. And it's my couch's fault.This bummer of a wake-up call happened last night while I was relaxing on my couch, enjoying some quiet time alone after a busy weekend. The culprit couch is in one the two rooms in our new-to-us house that I consider in pretty good shape. The walls are painted and are (mostly) blemish-free. The furniture -- a mix of new, hand-me downs, and M. Renee Buckleyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00277293421629474546noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5246856282666593879.post-30850780778473740962009-07-06T19:31:00.022-04:002009-07-06T20:35:08.498-04:00Stress lovers: You know you're out thereI've got a little idea about the natural-born perfectionist: We thrive on stress.Thriving and stress seem to be at odds with each other, right? To thrive means to "grow vigorously," according to Merriam-Webster online. And stress is defined as a constraining force or influence.But, for someone who wants, or needs, to achieve perfection, you're already kind of a self-hater -- because when you M. Renee Buckleyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00277293421629474546noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5246856282666593879.post-10296111835091393402009-06-29T15:24:00.049-04:002009-07-06T19:09:14.520-04:00Family is messyFamily.It's the stuff of countless TV shows, just as many movies, and fodder for some of the funniest stand-up comedy acts I've heard. It's the other "f" word.After recently spending a day with my own, and then collapsing in a pile on the couch after their departure -- and this was for a kid's birthday party -- I wondered how it is that these people I call my family can take so much out of me."I M. Renee Buckleyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00277293421629474546noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5246856282666593879.post-56620588959545277602009-06-22T21:05:00.025-04:002009-06-25T20:04:53.570-04:00What I learned from Liv TylerPeople who know me will probably roll their eyes when they read this, but I'm going to say it anyway: I may not have a perfect stomach, but thank God I have skinny ankles!I stole that from actress/model/Steven Tyler's daughter Liv Tyler, actually. It's a quote of hers I read recently, and it hit home in a way that made me realize, "Wow, what a good way to think."It may seem obvious that it's M. Renee Buckleyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00277293421629474546noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5246856282666593879.post-2377243918586101292009-06-15T21:01:00.028-04:002009-06-15T22:25:46.716-04:00I never thought past 28I've been freaking out lately about my life.It seems that ever since my 25th birthday, I never really fully embraced my new number -- or age, to be more specific. Not that 26 or now, 28, is old. Of course I know that. But, for some reason, I think I've failed to really know my age since my mid-20's. Let's see, how can I explain this?For my whole life, my age was something I could just announce M. Renee Buckleyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00277293421629474546noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5246856282666593879.post-32795916340727118552009-06-08T20:48:00.028-04:002009-06-08T22:27:38.155-04:00I don't work for the 'Today' showWow. I really fell off the face of the blogosphere lately -- I can't believe my last post was almost three months ago ...But at least I've got a good foreshadowing thing going with that last post's title -- "Pressure, pushing down on me ..." I'm good. (I had no idea that would be my last post for months, of course. But what a telling, telling title.)So anyway, I'm back. Today's topic is "Today," M. Renee Buckleyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00277293421629474546noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5246856282666593879.post-48581906952545317042009-03-26T10:43:00.019-04:002009-03-26T11:19:13.316-04:00Pressure, pushing down on me ...When songs come on the radio in the car, they almost always manage to change my mood, if I let them.Most times, though, I'll be in a certain mood and will want to remain there -- whether it's happy, sad, tired or grumpy -- and I'll search the radio stations until something fits.This is definitely related to my little problem of over-thinking. (I do it all of the time, on a wide variety of topics,M. Renee Buckleyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00277293421629474546noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5246856282666593879.post-22064028049926365022009-03-19T21:29:00.007-04:002009-03-19T22:51:09.115-04:00Do you dwell in your disasters?This phrase is from a song by one of my favorite musicians, Ray LaMontagne.To some, quite a few of his songs might sound sad, but I find them touching and poignant, and so true to things I never would have otherwise realized I feel or do.The lyric is, "I never learned to count my blessings, I choose instead to dwell in my disasters." (It's from my favorite song on his 2006 album, "Till the Sun M. Renee Buckleyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00277293421629474546noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5246856282666593879.post-37876669444684380172009-03-17T20:02:00.002-04:002009-03-17T20:06:19.310-04:00When your puppy makes work look good, something’s amissWhen I look back at old pictures of my impossibly cute puppy, Clover, and me, I realize something sad – I spent most her puppyhood freaking out.Of course, I cuddled her and oohed and ahhed over how cute her little fuzzy face was, how tiny and prickly her little teeth were, and how fun it was to snuggle her in my arms, feeling her soft, precious puppy fur beneath my fingertips.But I was also M. Renee Buckleyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00277293421629474546noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5246856282666593879.post-14379784317542509742009-03-03T23:01:00.005-05:002009-03-03T23:06:44.322-05:00Perfect doesn’t beget cleanI was replacing the brush head on my electric toothbrush yesterday – a move long overdue due in part to the outrageous cost of these things and also to the even more outrageous way they build up a horrifying green goo that can only be described as yuck – when I realized something.Perfectionists are dirty.It’s completely counterintuitive to what most people and even perfectionists themselves wouldM. Renee Buckleyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00277293421629474546noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5246856282666593879.post-13815971305601975372009-03-02T09:17:00.000-05:002009-03-02T10:06:50.020-05:00A serendipitous sign for my blog: A perfectionism story in the Globe!I started this blog late last night, and found myself actually dreaming about blog posts all night long. I know, that's not normal. I half blame what were unusually loud plow trucks startling me out of sleep what seemed like every half hour for the strange dream scape of last night.But anyway, imagine my delight when I opened Boston.com today and what was the headline in the top left-hand spot? "M. Renee Buckleyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00277293421629474546noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5246856282666593879.post-47145951009747474472009-03-01T23:34:00.000-05:002009-03-01T23:40:00.287-05:00No slave to the ironI came up with the name for my blog when I was making my bed last night. Finally, I was putting on the clean sheets and shams I’d washed three weeks ago – having had every intention of putting them on that day – and noticed how embarrassingly wrinkled and creased my “hotel-esque” bedding was looking.I was kind of annoyed at first, but then I realized, and this made me laugh, “They don’t make M. Renee Buckleyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00277293421629474546noreply@blogger.com1