Expect Less? Naaah

On Instagram  and Tumblr, there are always posts talking about the keys to happiness. They all seem to included this rule:

Give More…. Expect Less

This seems like the perfect motto to follow, right? Allow me to explain why this “key to happiness” irritates me, with a series of questions.

1. WHY, do I need to expect less in order to be happy?

2. WHO/WHAT am I expecting less from? People? My job? My environment? The President? Strangers?

3. HOW is not expecting the most, or any good amount, of anything and from everyone going to make me happy?

Oh yeah, it’s going to help me avoid disappointment. *Insert exaggerated eye roll here* LIFE HAS DISAPPOINTMENTS!!! Expecting less isn’t going to prevent you from experiencing them. And what good is a hard heart?

Want to know something crazy? I used to live by this “rule”. I was basically a walking billboard for this school of thought. I honestly believed that expecting little to nothing would help my avoid troubles, stress and heartache. I just knew that my sweet victories would be that much sweeter. Not true. Not true at all.

My reality now? I expect Everything. I expect more than my mind can currently conceive. Why? Because I live with a God inside of me who can give me everything that I want and more. Why, oh why, would I limit my blessings? Why would I limit God by expecting less of Him?

The only key to happiness that I know to work 100% of the time is God. Keep the Insta-wisdom. Try God and see how it works out.

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Tidbits From My Blogging Hiatus

I know, I know. I said that I would post twice a week. I said that I wouldn’t disappear for long periods of time. I’m human. I had the best of intentions, yet weeks have gone by without so much as a click in my corner of the WordPress world. I’m a work in progress. I’m only human. All of the above. I have a few tidbits that I’d like to share. Some of these things were meant to be full posts of their own, but my brain and my pen wouldn’t cooperate.

– First, a couple of  things that I’m not here for. (Since it’s the new online trend. I do find the statement quite catchy, and find myself saying it in real life on occasion)

1. The universal conversation of lil Gabby’s new growth. I don’t care what her mother’s hair looks like. I don’t care how easy it is to slap a perm on. I don’t care. I don’t care. I don’t care. That child trains day in and day out in West Bumbleboondocks *enter rural state where we don’t think black people live*. That child runs, flips, and tumbles in chalk. She sweats for a living. She crossed the pond for one reason. To be crowned the baddest lil lady in gymnastics, by winning Olympic gold. Her mission has been accomplished. And *gasp* she did it with nappy edges. Her hair was not a factor in nary a score. Her form was near perfect, and that smile is infectious. That girl is a world-class athlete. Leave her be.

2. My face breaking out like a middle schooler. Recently, I’ve notice that my skin has decided to rebel against my face. They are engaging in a war that I was neither notified of, or would have given my consent. I’m 25 years old. I went through puberty quite a while ago. I don’t know what I did to deserve this awkward 8th grader’s skin. I keep telling myself that this is simply toxins leaving my body due to my recent incorporation of green smoothies and my new obsession with vegetables. I have so much more skin on my body. These toxins need to find another exit route.

3. My allergies. Food allergies. Nature allergies. Skin allergies. None of them .

 

– I’m slowly turning into a healthy eater. I feel it. I’ve been trying to fight it, but my vegetable cravings are no joke. For some reason I want to eat broccoli and carrots all the time. A smoothie and a banana for breakfast, apple for snack and salads for lunch. I don’t know where this came from. My snack drawer at work was infamous. Now, there’s fruit and sunflower seeds. These are the things that I crave. Also, I’ve developed a fascination with juicing. I want to buy an amazing juicer, and eventually make all of my own juice. Of course, I’m going to start with a juice fast, just to see how much crap that it forces to leave my body. There is a down side to this uber-healthy change. I don’t want meat very much. This wouldn’t be much of an issue if I wasn’t allergic to fish. Yes, one of the allergies that I’m not here for. Not being able to eat anything with scales eliminates so many great meal options.

– I’m never boycotting the magical deliciousness that is Chik-Fil-A. I don’t care who they donate money to. They gave me my first job, and I thoroughly appreciated being able to have Sundays off for church. Not to mention, they have the best chicken nuggets and waffle fries ever. EVER. When that craving calls, I will forever answer.

– I need a name for people who I call friends, who aren’t really friends. People that I connect with on specific levels and nothing else. They are not qualified for overall life involvement, but they’re dope people nonetheless. What do we call these people? I needs to know.

Here’s to the hope that this post will kick-start a steady stream of ideas and words.

Beautiful In The Dark

What does beautiful look like in the dark?

I saw this question on a random blog and could not immediately produce a worthy answer. Is there beautiful in the dark? There must be, because there’s beauty in everything. So what does beautiful look like in the dark? Through my eyes.

– Beautiful looks like a clear sky in the middle of a country field. Me laying on my back. No thoughts.

– Reaching out in the dead of sleep for the love that you know is right there.

– A dream that doesn’t end when you open your eyes.

– Perfection

– The calm after the most heinous of storms

What does beautiful in the dark look like to you?

 

3 Months’ Salary On One Ring?

I would never wear that

There is a rule that most people are aware of which states, an engagement ring is supposed to be of equal value to 3 months’ salary. Why? Where did this rule come from? I know that it has been around forever, but I want to know who made it up and why. Since I’m pretty sure that I’m not going to receive those answers, I’ll just share exactly why I think that it is one of the dumbest rules that ever did exist.

First things first. I’m not into big clusterfucks of diamonds, and would never wear them on my fingers or anywhere else for that matter. I know for a fact would like to think men save all of this money so that they can buy some huge showpiece because that’s what women like. No. Not I. Come to me on bended knee with a small boulder in a ring box and your question will not be answered with a yes. I will promptly drag you back to the jeweler where we would trade that mess in for something much smaller and more practical. I’ll say yes as we deposit all of that extra money back into your account.

This? Nope

I’m going to out on a limb here and say that if I agree to marry someone, I love him with all of my heart. I’m also going to take the risk of assuming that, since he’s asking me to be his wife, he loves me just as much. Something about this 3 months’ salary rule screams “You’re saving the money to buy a big ring. The bigger the ring, the more you love her. Duh!” No. I know that I’m going to fall in love with a smart man. A smart man who will know that I’d be much happier if that 3 months’ salary was spent on our reception and honeymoon. In the grand scheme of things, the ring doesn’t mean a thing. (excuse me while i jig to that horrible Kim Z song in my head. It is kind of catchy) The love and the marriage mean everything, and the wedding bands are the symbols of that love. Not the engagement ring.

I don't need all of this mess to symbolize love.

One last point of irritation and I’m done. Man dates woman. Man falls in love with woman. Man decides he wants to marry woman. Man begins the task of saving 3 months salary so that he can properly proposed to woman. Man has bills to pay. It takes man forever to save the proper amount for ring. Many finally proposes with “acceptable ring’. Couple starts marriage counseling, during which woman can’t wear ring or show it off to people. Isn’t that one of the selling point of spending so much money on the ring? This point may only make sense to me because I know that my engagement will be traditional. And that is all that matters.

So future husband, to you I say keep your 3 months’ salary. I’m fine with a nice dainty engagement ring and a wedding band to compliment.

Not In My Wedding? Not My Friend.

If I were to have wedding, it would look like this. The people, not the dresses.

I have a new rule on friendships:

If I wouldn’t put you in my wedding, we are not friends.

Yes, my wedding which is currently non-existent and not happening in the near or far future. I’m not speaking of the actual wedding that I’ll have one day, because I don’t want a huge ceremony and I don’t want a wedding party at all. If I were to change my mind, my wedding would be an event in every sense of the word with a host of bridesmaids and groomsmen.

Where did this rule come from? The well-known randomness of my thoughts should be answer enough to that question. But I do have a real answer. It occurred to me that someone who I’ve been calling a friend, a best friend, would probably be late to my wedding. And leave early. That got me to thinking. Best friends are automatically maids of honor right? The maid of honor has actual responsibilities. When I think about bridal showers and bachelorette parties, two specific people come to mind. Neither is Miss Arrive Late/Leave Early. How can I call someone like that a friend? I can’t. That’s why God made family.

Back to the subject at hand, my friends. IF I ever were to have an actual wedding party, it would be composed of my friends. The people who are my source of an abundance of laughter, and with whom I’ve made countless memories. People that know my secrets. The people who I know that I can talk to with reckless abandon knowing that they will understand. The ones who listen to my meltdowns, encourage my ratchetness and tell me to sit down when need be.  The people who give me amazing hugs and encourage me on accident. These people would be in my wedding party and turn that muthasucka out!

What’s sad is, besides my sister, none of these people live in the same place as me. Anyone who is currently in Nashville reading this, if you know me personally, you are in one of three categories. Family. Cool People. Whatever. Family and Cool People, don’t go getting your panties in a bunch. I better not receive any angry text messages. Nashville is home; a city full of family and people who I’ve known for most of my life. I am in the process of strengthening bonds and building some new bonds from scratch. My wedding party is by no means set in stone. The rule is, however.

If the name doesn’t make the list, the person is not a friend. Try it.

 

Are Good Christians Allowed To Listen To Secular Music?

I was washing dishes and talking to God the other day, and thought of the above question. Yes, I talk to God while doing household chores. Me and the Big Guy have a unique relationship. He gets me.

Ok, back to my question. There is no need for me to explain my love for music. But as a good Christian woman am I allowed to listen to secular music? I”m not there yet, but I’m working on it. I just need to know if I have to stop listening to Hip Hop and R&B in order to get there. Don’t get me wrong, I love all music. Honestly. I listen to Gospel and Contemporary Christian, not so much Christian rap (not too fond of it), but I love me some Hip Hop and R&B along with occasional pop and rock. Love.

I know what Lucifer’s position in heaven was and I know all about his fall. I don’t listen to anything that blatantly worships the devil. I love lyrics. I love wordplay. I don’t think that will change as I grow closer to God. I do think that what I choose to listen to will evolve as the artists in the music industry evolve.  But seriously!!! I need answers!