Known fact: The Blues = Amazing Musical Potential
Lesser known fact: The Blues = Good for the Economy = Bad for the Wallet (and for the Waistline)
Also, the blues are good for odd productivity – I cleaned out the car console and glove compartment yesterday. Ten years of auto-related receipts, tags, and proofs of insurance anyone???
And lastly, the Blues = an appreciation for Bridget Jones’ Diary as a not-so-secret guilty pleasure. Be honest, pairing a Hugh Grant-Colin Firth spar with “It’s Raining Men” is brilliant – pure brilliant. (Insert my love for all things Brit-cheesy here.)
“-Wait a minute. Nice boys don’t kiss like that.
-Oh, yes, they f*?!ing do.”
Give me a nice British boy with a cute British accent any day. Wouldn’t this make anyone smile?
Heads up: In honor of 3 years (!!) of blogging, a week of re-runs (with commentary) awaits you tomorrow…
Preparing for my walk this morning, I applied five layers – five – and yesterday morning I topped it off with a hat and scarf. Reminiscing on my time in Scotland and New Jersey, I felt a little silly wearing all these layers for a quick walk around the neighborhood. The winters I spent in actual frigid parts of the world required such layering on a daily basis.
After a few months of taking hours each day dressing for the weather (ok, this is an exaggeration), frustration for wearing so many clothes set in. Going to the bathroom is more of a chore when you have on hose and leggings and pants! Once, on my weekly weekend excursions to NYC, I defied the weather and wore only a long sleeved shirt and my coat – ha!; it was a gloriously chilly victory.
In these frosty parts of the world, you notice that there is a different definition for what is warm. While I was studying in Edinburgh, I met a Scottish friend in a café on a day in April. The weather was not near as cold as it had been and even I was only wearing a jacket (and a camisole and a long sleeved shirt . . . and a scarf), but I noticed many a Scot dressed in tank tops and skirts and other skin-baring clothes. I asked my friend if, in fact, people simply got used to the cold eventually. She said that, no, they realized it was still nippy out, but that since shop owners put the clothes in the shops, why not wear them! Well, I suppose that is a reasonable enough response.
Likewise, I realize that this morning was not actually a 5-layer-cold kind of day, but I have the clothes – why not wear them? Also, at 6 o’clock, it felt like a 5-layer-cold kind of day. I was tempted to bring my blanket along for the walk as well.
As a side note, I’d like to be in Edinburgh today. (And always.)
This morning I yelled at my uterus.
By the way, this message comes to you as a friend-approved post. Here’s the disclaimer: if you are male, you may have no reason to continue reading unless you simply want some female insight. (Maybe the disclaimer should have come before the opening statement?)
Anyway, in response to the screaming pain that my uterus was inflicting on me this morning, I yelled at her. Something like this:
“Ugh! Uterus, you are the most painful, disgusting and, as of yet, useless organ that I possess. You are lucky that society places such importance on you. If my appendix gave me this much trouble every month I would have it removed immediately!”
She continues to yell at me. Maybe she’s upset that I’m not putting her to good use. I can appreciate her desire to feel needed, but I still choose to ignore her pleas.
We both need chocolate to soothe our pain.
(A note for Dad - yes, this post is long winded, you may skip it if you'd like.)
I was standing in the shower last night – it was one of those days when I couldn’t remember if I’d rinsed out the conditioner or not – and I had a brilliant thought. Actually, no, I‘m totally making that up. Wouldn’t it be nice if you were the kind of person who had brilliant thoughts in the midst of fatigue?
I am certainly the kind of person who sometimes can’t remember if she rinsed the conditioner, who forgets to look in the mirror before leaving the house on occasion, or who tries to remember if she put on deodorant from time to time (I almost always remember that I did, almost always). But any thoughtful thoughts that I have (rarely-if-ever brilliant) stem from much too purposeful and lengthy contemplation.
I did have a thought yesterday. It came as I was thinking about (drum roll) the future. I decided that I need to become less judgmental of myself. This thought isn’t that earth shattering, you say? There’s more. I need to be less judgmental of myself, not only because this will free me to be who I will become and accept whoever that may be, but also because I believe it will allow me to accept (and love) others more often/better/more deeply. Consider these notions:
Do unto others as you would have them do unto you.
In happiness and suffering, in joy and grief, we should regard all creatures as we regard our own self.
Love your neighbor as yourself.
One should seek for others the happiness one desires for himself.
All of these principles, from a range of traditions, presume this: that you are content with yourself, want what is best for yourself, and desire happiness for yourself. Then, understanding these things for yourself, you can apply such good will, service, and compassion towards others. Accepting yourself (loving yourself) is not selfish; it’s necessary, especially if you desire to, or simply as a leader/teacher/mother/aunt/friend/person-other-people-see, will influence others. Love yourself, and then you will know how to love others.
This is the goal: Understand that this is me. Here I am. Acceptance. Release judgment. Whoa.
And since I am adding this as my 10th goal for the year, I will share with you my new favorite blog (except for yours, of course) – To Do List. There are other crazy list-ers out there! I am not alone.
(Welcome to my therapy session, y’all. If you want to keep me accountable to this, I’d very much appreciate it.)
