I Don't Like Books (and how to pare down yours)

I know it's a heretical thing to say among intelligent, educated people, so that's why I made that statement: it commands attention. Now let me amend that title a bit. I don't like books, but I love reading.

I don't actually remember learning to read, and I can't remember a time when I didn't know how. As someone with an academically-oriented job and a blog, I'm reading all day, whether it's print materials or online. In my spare time, I devour books. Suffice it to say, reading is a significant part of my life, and a genuine joy.

That being said, I don't like books. They're heavy, they take up too much space, and they require large pieces of furniture for the sole purpose of storing them. My books are now tremendously pared down, but that hasn't always been the case. I understand, and personally have experienced, the impulse to hoard literature. It's tempting to be able to access all of your favorites at a moment's notice, even if you rarely (or never) re-read them. This impulse disappears, however, after you move this large book collection to a new house, especially if multiple flights of stairs are involved.

So how do I fix this?

First, you need to detach yourself from the emotional connection to the books, a process which is not unlike the emotional detachment from other objects that is necessary to live a freer life. For some reason, books trigger more of a reaction in people than a lot of other things, but here's my take on the subject:

They're just paper. No matter how wonderful the story contained within, any other copy is just as delightful as your own. With the exception of rare, out-of-print volumes, the story you love can easily be obtained again at any reasonably-sized library, or even as an e-book. No matter what happens to the paper on your shelf, the stories will always be there. I take a lot of comfort in that fact.

Books were also made to be read. Until fairly modern times, literature was quite scarce, and thus sharing books was much more common. Books want to be read, and enjoyed, and appreciated. That copy on your shelf could be enriching the imagination of somebody else out there, rather than collecting dust in your home.

I'm now an avid customer of my local used bookstore. Every month or so, I'll trade a few books in for store credit and bring a few more home. When those are done, they go back to the store. With the seed money from an initial purge of my shelves, I haven't spent a dime, I've brought home dozens of new books, and I'm supporting a local business.

The actual process of sorting through books can be daunting, but you have to start somewhere. Here, generally, is the approach I took.

Some questions to ask yourself:

• Will I actually read this again?
• Is this irreplaceable?
• For reference books: Do I actually reference this?
• For cookbooks: Do I use any of these recipes? If so, do I use more than a few? Would it be easier to just photocopy the few I do use, and pass it on?
• For textbooks: Am I ever going to take this class again? Is this information outdated?

For the majority of these questions, the answer is often no. In the modern internet era, reference books and cookbooks are increasingly obsolete. Yes, somebody probably paid hundreds of dollars for that encyclopedia set at one point, but it's bulky, heavy and outdated. Recipes are also more easily found online, along with reviews, ratings and modifications that others have made. There's simply no comparing the versatility of recipe websites with any cookbook collection. With textbooks, I understand you may feel like you'd need to look up something about chemistry or accounting at some point in the future. Remember, though, that the information in old textbooks is likely outdated, and if you ever re-take this class, there's probably a new edition you'd need to buy. Get rid of it while somebody may still want it.

Now what do I do with all of this?

The problem with books is that some of them are very desirable and can be sold easily; others you can't give away (see my earlier comments about encyclopedias). Here are some ways I disposed of them, in order of descending financial yield (which may or may not be your goal).

• Sell them. This can be somewhat tedious, depending on the number of books and their relative value. Textbooks are easy to get rid of at half.com (especially in early January and mid-August when college semesters are beginning), and if they're fairly new they're usually valuable enough that they're worth a trip to the post office. Other books, like paperback novels, may only go for a dollar or so. If you have a lot of these, consider having a yard sale. If you price them fairly cheaply and put up signs, your local yard sale scavengers will be at your house bright and early on Saturday morning.
• See if your town has a used bookstore that accepts trades for store credit. Like I mentioned previously, this is how I started my initial investment which funds all of my new reading material.
• Donate them. Your local Friends of the Library may want them for a used book sale fundraiser. Also check with charity shops; my local Goodwill had one location that is just a bookstore, and I dropped off many boxes there. If money isn't a concern, donating your books may be your best option because it's definitely the least hassle.
• Give them away. Try your local Freecycle chapter. This is a good place to get rid of things in general. I've listed all kinds of strange stuff on there, and I've never failed to find somebody who wanted it. Your useless junk may be exactly what someone else was looking for.
• As a last resort, recycle them. Contact your municipal waste department to find out their procedure for book recycling. This may involve a trip to the recycling plant.

At the moment, I personally own twelve books. Seven of them are children's books that I cherished, and plan to pass onto my not-too-distant future kids. One is a wonderful cookbook that is out of print, and contains a collection of Franciscan brothers' recipes for bread, and I use it frequently. I also have a copy of Strunk and White, which I reference in my daily life to improve my writing style. The remaining three are in circulation from the used bookstore.

For me, books have really become a good uncluttered gift idea, because they don't hang around for long. If you love literature but hate clutter, consider a revolving book collection. If you've found another solution to the book clutter problem, tell me about it in the comments.

Bonus!

I forgot to mention, when I cleaned out all of that stuff yesterday, I randomly found a Starbucks gift card among all of my toiletries in the closet. It's only five bucks, and I'm not sure if it even has any money left on it, but I guess there's only one way to find out. Sorting through stuff is really paying off.

Simple Living Project #1: Downsizing my beauty products

Beauty products are one category where women just straight-up can't be as minimal as men. Between society's expectations of a higher appearance standard, and the fact that most of us look like hell with short hair, you can't just buy one bottle of soap, use it on all body parts and call it a day. I like to think of myself as being fairly low-maintenance in this department, but boy was I wrong. I emptied out my shower, medicine cabinet, and closet, and this is the result:

Holy moly. I am clearly guilty of goo hoarding. Let me organize all of my goo into distinct categories and see what happens.

So much better (not). I'm going to sort through stuff, and toss out whatever I don't use or like, as well as anything that's too old. I'll also be using the Environmental Working Group's Cosmetics Database to toss the nastiest stuff. Keep in mind that a fair bit of this belongs to the fiance. I won't throw out any of his stuff without permission, though usually he doesn't care, and just uses whatever I buy for him. There's a lot of crap to sort through, so this is going to be a long post...

How on earth did I end up with seven things of sunblock? I know how. I used to live in Florida, where I was a lifeguard and competitive swimmer. It just tends to accumulate. The Up and Up stuff is probably no good. Gone. The face sunblocks, both the brand name and generic, are pretty bad too. Toss. The Hawaiian Tropic is pretty bad, and I can't find any info on the Caribbean stuff, but it has most of the same ingredients, so it goes too. Lastly, we come to the Blue Lizard, which was recommended to the fiance by his dermatologist. It's actually really good, although it was pretty dang hard to find in a store. It was a bit more expensive than a normal bottle, but because we rarely get out in direct summer sun for long periods of time, I'm going to try to get more and use it when we need sunblock. 

The aloe stuff saved my butt in Jamaica when I was out without sunblock for maybe 90 minutes. I underestimated the impact that being closer to the equator would have, and I burned so badly that I went straight past red to purple. I couldn't even sleep under a sheet that night because it hurt so much. Still, it has a bunch of bad crap in it. Next time I'll get a thing of pure aloe vera. The insect repellent is frightening - 25% DEET, 75% "other." Gee thanks for the informative disclosure on this bottle of poison you're wanting me to spray on myself. Not happening. It goes.

With the eyecare stuff, there isn't any such excess. The extra lens case has my spare contacts. The only thing I can toss is the little jar my new lens came in, so it's gone.

Next we come to deodorants, which I forgot to get a picture of. For some reason I have this mortal fear of running out of deodorant and smelling bad, perhaps another relic from life in the Sunshine State. So to be careful, I stock up whenever it's on sale, which is how we each ended up with three spare deodorants in addition to the one we're using, for a total of eight. The Secret is what I'm using now. It's not spectacular, and it smells like Candy Land threw up, but it's almost empty so I'll just finish it. The Lady Speed Stick is about half full, and it's not great either, but I'll deal with it because the toxicity issues with deodorants are more pertaining to allergies, and I don't have those problems. The Almay is surprisingly good for a drugstore brand, so when I need more, I'm going to buy this. I also have the Crystal deodorant, which totally doesn't work, but it's completely nontoxic, so I'm going to try to use it more in the winter when I won't sweat. The vain attempt to use this stuff year-round is why hippies smell.

As for him, he has four sticks of Degree. Not great, not terrible, but he hasn't had any issues with allergies so I won't worry about it for now. I'll look into replacement options when he finally needs it, which may take a couple of years at the rate it goes.

With dental stuff, most of this is the result of the largesse of my dentist, who bestowed nine containers of floss and six free toothbrushes on me. Most of the toothbrushes are worn out and will go in the cleaning stuff box. The floss reminds me, I need to floss more, so it will get used. As for the rest of it, I know that regular toothpaste and mouthwash aren't great, so as soon as I use up all of this, I'll switch to something more non-toxic.

Now we're onto soap. The Old Spice stuff is pretty bad, and just a small sample size, so it goes. The rest of it is totally fine -- Burt's Bees and Dr. Bronner's are two brands I completely trust. The two loose bars are from Whole Foods 365 line. The conditioner bottle is actually just diluted Dr. Bronner's that I use every day. The hand soaps are antibacterial and I don't even know where they came from, but I'm tossing them because triclosan is just bad.

Here's where it gets really dangerous -- hair goo. Another leftover habit from my days in Florida's humidity, I'm continuously looking for stuff to make my curly, frizzy hair behave. It's actually completely fine most of the year where I live now, but I still try new stuff all the time, and only some of it works. I have two things of smoothing stuff, the Citre Shine and Garnier Fructis. The Garnier is rated better, so I'll hang onto that one, but I will explore more natural alternatives. I was surprised to see that the Garnier smoothing cream was rated quite well, so that one will stay. I can't find any info on the Kinky Curly stuff, but the ingredients are just aloe and a bunch of plant extracts, so no worries there. The Herbal Essences flat iron spray is really old and I don't use it anyway, so it can go. I also have the dry shampoo, which is similar to this stuff (i.e., not great) but I'm using it temporarily to wean myself off of daily shampooing, so I'll hang onto it. The Frizz Ease isn't listed in the database, but their other stuff isn't too great, and this stuff is full of silicones, which really weigh my hair down. Gone.

For shampoo/conditioner, the samples are gone, and the Organix stuff is okay but not great. The CVS conditioner is just the generic of Organix. My main objection to those is the price, but I'm going to replace them with more of the cheap stuff from Whole Foods when I get a chance to run up there. The other two bottles are medicated stuff from fiance's dermatologist.

With hair removal stuff, the Gillette shaving cream has to go. It's really not that terrible as a product, but it leaves rust rings all over the edge of the bathtub, plus it smells like my grandpa, which is a real turn-off. The Burt's Bees stuff is good, and even though it's a little more expensive, he's not very hairy so it lasts a long time. The Surgi-Wax is good, but the Sally Hansen never worked anyway, so it goes. I never use the epilation oil, and there's only one razor left in the bag, so both go.

Onto the face stuff. Here's where I'm scared. I know some of this is probably bad, and I've been putting it near my eyes for years. The pore strips are fine, the L'Occitane stuff not so much. The Clearasil sample came with a coupon that expired in 2005, so that should go for safety's sake. With the eye creams, the L'Oreal is alright, but the Aveeno isn't listed, though other products in that line are OK if they're not SPF, so I'm going to assume it's alright. My daily use Burt's Bees moisturizer is surprisingly bad, but it seems to have more to do with allergies and reactions to the acne-fighting ingredients, which again isn't an issue for me so I'm ok with that. The oil mattifier is alright. The Olay isn't so great, and it's greasy anyway, so it goes. He doesn't use the Mary Kay men stuff, so it's gone. My particular toner isn't listed, but none of Neutrogena's toners are very good, so it goes. The CVS acne wash always left my skin feeling greasy, no more. The clay masque isn't great, and it doesn't do anything besides make your skin gunky and green for awhile, so I'm tossing it. The St. Ives apricot cleanser isn't great and has those microbeads that are bad for the environment, so it goes. Lastly, the Clean & Clear acne gel is good, and it's amazing at clearing up pimples literally overnight, so it stays.

Next is hand sanitizers. I went back and forth on them, reviewing the ingredients, but ultimately just came to the decision to toss them all. I don't use them, and everyone agrees that hand-washing is just better anyway. I like easy decisions.

Now onto various other skin stuffs, which I don't have a picture of. The foot lotion and body refresher are both from Bath and Body Works, and all of their stuff stinks to high heavens, so they're gone. The Aveeno lotion is surprisingly good, so it stays. The Mederma isn't terrible, and it's from fiance's dermatologist, so it stays. I can't find the other foot cream online, but I don't use it so it's gone. The last two containers are just pure Vitamin E and Vitamin C, so they're fine.

Perfume is next, and this is going to be tough. I know a lot of these are probably terrible, and I almost never wear them, but they were expensive and I'd hate to just throw out almost-full bottles of smells I like. But there's no avoiding it, so here it goes. 

First, my perfumes. The Clinique Happy isn't as bad as I thought. As infrequently as I use it, it's okay so I'll keep it. I can't find either of the Gap perfumes on there, so I'm going to settle for blissful ignorance on those. The Bath & Body Works body splashes are all terrible, so it's gone. 

Now for his stuff. The Armani Acqua di Gio soap and eau de toilette aren't great, but it's mostly allergy concerns, which hasn't been a problem for him. The Armani Code is even worse, so I'll mention it to him, but I bet he won't care. I'm not sure what that New Musk crap is, but it smells like Leisure Suit Larry, so I'm tossing it. Lastly is the Spongebob cologne I got him as a joke. It isn't listed but he doesn't use it anyway so I'm not worried. 

That's pretty much it for hygiene products. Makeup is the next thing.

I have a confession to make. I have a lip balm problem. No, I'm not addicted to it, though apparently that is a thing. I have a problem with acquiring them, though to be fair, the majority of these were stocking stuffers and not purchases of my own. Nonetheless, I have too many, so I need to sort through them. The Burt's Bees ones are all okay. The No-Ad stuff is ancient, so it should probably go. The Blistex is no good. The Vaseline stuff is fine, and it's his anyway so I don't have to deal with it. The Carmex stuff is not great and smells terrible, so I'm tossing it. At least that gets rid of three of my dozen tubes. I'll have to be careful not to acquire any more until I'm finished with these, probably sometime in the year 2030.

As a rule of thumb, you're supposed to throw out mascara after 4-6 months, and this one is more like 4-6 years. Gone. The gel eyeshadow is really old, and the light purple one (not shown) is broken, so they go. The concealer is also really old. Other than that, everything seems to be okay.

Next is beauty tools, and the main issue here is duplicates. I recently got a set of high-quality Eco Tools brushes, which I love, especially the kabuki brush, and I recommend everyone spend a bit of money to get. I need the eye pencil sharpener. He and I each have our own tweezers, and I don't like him touching mine, so I'll keep both. The eyelash curler only looks scary, but in real life it's very useful so it stays. I forgot to include my foot pumice thingy, toe separators, nail file and nail buffer but they're in there too. For some reason we have three fingernail clippers. He keeps his, and I'll keep the better one of mine. I also have two of the exact same manicure scissors, so I'm keeping the one that's in better shape.

I've never been huge on doing my nails, so it shouldn't be hard to part with some of this stuff, which I also forgot to photograph. The purple stuff is bad, and it looks kinda trashy. I can't find exact matches for any of the other three, though none of the nail polish results are good. I'll hang onto the clear, pink, and red for now. As for the remover, ironically, the non-acetone ones appear to be worse than the acetone ones, so I'll keep what I've got. Last in this category is the Burt's Bees cuticle cream, which works great and smells delicious.

So clearly, we have a hairbrush situation. The two on the left are his and he uses them every day. Fine. The problem is the other seven, which belong to me and most of which don't ever see the light of day. I mostly use the wood one. I'll also keep the biggest round brush and the comb with the hook for the shower. That's it. The others all go.

No big surprises with the medicine, though I was able to consolidate some packages. The brown paper bag is a ton of cough drops, no idea where those came from.

With the first aid stuff, again I consolidated containers, and threw out some stuff that was really expired. I checked out his nasty, stinky Tiger Balm, and unfortunately it's perfectly safe, so it stays. The Skin Shield stuff is fine too. Everything else is pretty much straightforward, so I stuck it back in its basket, and back it goes.

And that's the last of it. Between sorting through all of this crap, and blogging about it as I go, it has literally taken six hours of my Saturday. Because of this, I am going to make two resolutions:

1. I will not buy any new personal care products unless I am about to run out.

2. I will investigate the safety of stuff before spending good money on it.

With all that said, here's my new, pared-down, detoxified daily routine.

Also note the flat iron, without which I would look like a poodle, as well as the jar of baking soda, which I use to exfoliate my skin. I'm going to be on the lookout for more ways to make my beauty routine more natural, but I'm going to use up all of the products I have before buying new stuff, I swear.  I'll keep the blog updated on these efforts, as well as the more specific effort to cut down on, if not ditch entirely, shampoo. That's all for now. Is anybody interested in two boxes of random goo?

Advertising and Contentment

Two things I saw yesterday provided the inspiration for this post. 

First, I was watching an online video, and in a 90-second commercial break, I was shown the same 30-second ad three times. If it had been something I was actually interested in, it would have at least been a wise investment on the part of the company, but clearly they did not do any sort of tracking of my interests. The commercial was for a pickup truck, and it emphasized how tough it was, and how different industries prefer their truck over others. Besides the fact that I am the exact opposite demographic who buys their product -- white-collar, urban-dwelling females really don't care about trucks -- they showed the commercial three times in a row, which is simply terrible programing. 

Not long after, I stumbled upon this article. Several companies have patented devices for monitoring what's going on in your house, and delivering targeted advertisements. Now Verizon has one that monitors your conversations and advertises to you based on what you talk about. I'm not the only person who has reacted to this news with dismay, and I can't imagine what would motivate somebody to actually allow one of these devices in their house. It's not so much my fear of being watched -- my life is really freaking boring -- but I do worry about the insidious nature of advertisements on our lifestyles.

I'd like to think I've reached a point where advertisements don't work on me, but I'm probably just being naive. Yeah, ads for pickup trucks won't work -- you can't create desire where none ever existed -- but I can probably think of a few things that might appeal to me. The best advertisements appeal to our insecurities, and offer enticements to real happiness. There's no doubt that I'm full of insecurities, and thus, still vulnerable.

Why minimalist?

In my second post, I explained the first half of my blog title, and discussed loneliness. Today I will talk about what minimalism means to me, and how it is expressed in my life thus far.

It seems like the various members of the minimalist blogsophere have a story - a loss, a life-threatening illness, or a sudden epiphany - that spurred them to choose a life of voluntary simplicity. I wish I had something so dramatic, because it makes for a good introduction, but that's just not what happened to me. I'm not even quite sure how I stumbled upon the concept, or precisely when. 

I was never much of a collector, much less a hoarder, though I definitely wasn't a minimalist when I was young. I always tried to live frugally, and managed to get through college and a master's degree with no debt. During my last semester of grad school, I landed a job making far more money than I knew what to do with, and I turned to some personal finance blogs for guidance. It was there that I first heard of the book Your Money or Your Life (which - confession - I still haven't read) and the concept of voluntary simplicity. This would have been roughly 2007 or 2008.

Since then, I have moved across the country with only the contents of my small car, something I could have never done before. This experience really drove home the freedom that shedding possessions can confer. Several of my friends have discussed wanting to move, or actually have gone somewhere, but were hampered by the hassle and expense of moving whole apartments full of furniture, thousands of books and DVDs, and large wardrobes. For me, it was as simple as putting some bags in my backseat and going.

I'd like to continue being flexible with my lifestyle, and I'm hoping to raise my children with anti-consumerist, pro-environmental values. The 800-pound gorilla in this plan is my fiance (an issue I will delve into when I find the patience), though I hope once he sees how much freer I am, he will come around. This next year will be a major reckoning. With him searching for jobs and me applying to school, we're not sure what part of the country, let alone what city, we'll be living in, and the more agile we can be, the better. 

To avoid being a windbag, I'll leave it at that, though I'm sure there'll be more on the subject interspersed in various other posts in the future. I'm not entirely certain where I'm going with this blog, but I'm going to attempt to post at least a couple of times a week, so something will show up one way or another. Life's an adventure, so I guess blogging can be too.

If you can't laugh at yourself

I saw this one a couple of years ago when it was making the rounds, and it still makes me laugh.

Why so lonely?

People tend to use the word in its most negative sense, and I can't say that, in my weaker moments, I don't succumb to the same thinking. But it's not necessarily a bad thing - was Thoreau lonely at Walden Pond? Isolation can be a productive thing, with a plethora of reflective time and necessitation of self-reliance. Thus, I use the term in a value-neutral way, and allow the cards to fall as they may. Specifically, I mean "lonely" in a two-pronged meaning.

The lonely

First, and probably most obviously, is the most literal definition. I moved to this city, 1000 miles from my home, three years ago to attend medical school. My fiance moved here a year later, by which point I had become completely disconnected with my lifelong desire to pursue a medical career (more on that later). The friends I had made in my class quickly vanished, along with all of the social connections I had here. 

I have a job that pays decently enough, but my work is done almost entirely remotely -- I've met my boss in person three times. I have met some people through my fiance, but they're really only acquaintances, who have a lot more in common with his interests than mine. Thus, on an average day, he may very well be the only person I talk to. 

I'm an introvert, for sure, and I've never been the type to just go out and meet random people somewhere. It's always been in a place where you can't help but make friends - school, work, my college dorm - and I'm just not in that kind of circumstance anymore. I just don't even know how you go about it. I'd feel completely stupid going to a bar or coffee shop and just talking to whatever kind-looking face happens to be there, and I don't really see any other way to go about it. And really, it almost never bothers me. I don't have an excess of leisure time, and honestly, I'd rather spend it with a good book than another person.

The Lonely Minimalist

In the second sense, I'm lonely in my minimalist tendencies. Nobody in my life seems to have any interest in or inclination toward voluntary simplicity, and I don't really know what to do with myself. I've been immersed in the minimalist blogosphere for several years now, without posting a single comment on anything out of… fear? shyness? I'm not quite sure why, but the result is that nobody knows I'm out there, even as I've followed these bloggers for years and gotten to know them well. Which is kind of weird when you think about it, but that's just the nature of the blogging beast.

The biggest issue that this raises, above all others, is in my relationship. I plan to get into a lot more detail about this in the future, but here it is in a nutshell: My fiance is a wonderful guy, and so sweet and smart and supportive in every other way, but he's a "collector." I put that term in quotation marks, because I'd almost categorize him as a hoarder if it wasn't all so well organized. It limits what parts of the city we can live in, because we need space for all of his junk and a 2-bedroom apartment downtown is too expensive for two students. The hobbies also consume a fair amount of money, which I'd much rather spend on a modest but much-needed annual vacation. So I'm stuck living in a semi-suburban, car-dependent neighborhood, in a pile of video games and various other man-toys, and I'm not happy. I have no intentions of leaving, but I'd like to change his perspective a bit.

So in a nutshell, that's the lonely bit. When I get time to compose the next segment, "Why Minimalist?" I'll get a little more into my own background and why I feel compelled to live a simpler life. Until then, adios.