New sweaters! Whatever shall I do? Try them on for you!!
Whaddya think? Are these a yay or a nay?
Whaddya think? Are these a yay or a nay?
Forgiveness is never easy.
And yet I wonder if that's how it's supposed to be. For the learning during the forgiveness process holds a value we can never achieve any where else.
Several years ago a friend of mine was going through a tough time. From an outside perspective, I would believe that he brought these "tough times" upon himself. But since I have not walked the road he did, I can not judge what caused this time in his life.
Sadly, I understood one thing he was going through. He was best friends with a group of guys and seemingly out of nowhere all his friends stop contacting him, returning his calls, or even trying to salvage their friendship. From my imperfect perspective I saw that the choices he's made in his life caused his friends to make this decision.
But since I once had a group of friends that push me away, and treated me like a stranger due to a severe depression that encompassed my life so much so that I could barely survive each day EXISTING, let alone keeping up with friends and their lives, I completely understood where this friend was coming from.
I did all that I could to let him know that I cared about him, that I found value in him and that I didn't limit my belief in him due to the life he was living. And most importantly, I wanted him to know he could rely on me.
And then one day it all came crashing down. He took advantage of my friendship and while at my house, stole from me to feed this addiction of his. Two, 30 count bottles of expired Hydrocodone, GONE. I figured he was better than that, that he had the decency to respect our friendship, and my belongings. He probably assumed that since they were expired I wouldn't notice them missing. But just a week prior, I cleaned out my medicine box but kept those, as at the time I had no medical insurance and while I hate that kind of medicine and instead will take Ibuprofen, I can't predict my future and if I'll ever need them.
While he never said anything and I was so hurt I cut him off, and after rehab we spoke no more to each other, I still wanted him to ask for forgiveness. I wanted it so bad. I wanted to know he was dearly sorry for what he had done. I wanted to know that he knew this ridiculous action of his destroyed my trust in him and shattered our friendship. An apology could have salvaged that. And I didn't want to go to him to get it. I wanted him to want to apologize.
But instead he went on with life like it didn't. even. matter.
This hurt me so much that it encompassed my life and festered something nasty within me. I couldn't focus without my anger towards him dancing in the background of my mind, slowing coming forward until I couldn't think of anything else. My happiness diminished because I was so caught up in how much he betrayed me. I wished him terrible things. I wished karma would hit him so hard and for the whole world to see. What sweet revenge I would feel to watch him go down, getting a taste of what I felt he deserved.
I realized one day, talking to my friend, that I needed to forgive him. My life wasn't getting any better, holding onto feelings that aren't hurting him, but wreaking havoc on my spirit.
And I did.
Or so I thought I did.
I would see him in town and those feelings resurfaced. I would spend the rest of the day rehashing those old feelings, wishing him hell to pay. The feelings stronger than before.
Remembering the error of my ways, I would forgive him again.
And then I would see him at church, CHURCH, and instead of me being Christlike and with a Christlike attitude, I instead looked at him as the sinner whose actions should give him no reason to show up and act like he was perfect, his prayers eloquent enough to bring one to tears and a knowledge of their own sins, but he went on like he did nothing to me. And then I would look at the congregation and wonder, "Who else has he done this with? And they not know?"
Each time this cycle continued, when those angry feelings came back, they came back tenfold.
Finally one day, while talking to this same friend she said, "Ladee, I don't think you've forgiven him."
And while I thought her words were out of line, I left from her house that day realizing she was right. Forgiveness means that I am no longer tied down to the negative feelings. It means I can move forward in my life with no more reminders of what he did, because it no longer controls me.
I was once told that the only things/beliefs that can control you are the things/beliefs that you allow to control you.
One day I was in my dining room, preparing a lesson I had to give the next day when I saw the reflection of a car pass in front of my house. I felt attacked with the same energy I felt when I would see my friend. I found myself uttering, "I am going to guess that is him". And within an instant I was running into my kitchen to see his work vehicle drive away.
I understood at that moment that it didn't matter how many times I begged God to help me forgive him, as I was forgiving him, it was a dark energy this man carried within him that projected on to me that clung to me, that made me the same person he is: full of rage and hatred.
I processed this for a day or two. I was putting on my makeup one morning, with this all still on my mind. He had to have known that his anger with me, I being one of the many that cut ties to him, affected me. I already knew his bitterness towards those that let him go. So he had to have felt the same towards me.
I had an idea. A thought clear as day came into my mind and with half a face of makeup on, I prayed.
"Dear Lord, please shield me from the negative energy that attacks me when we see each other. I pray it'll bounce off me and be given back to him, so he'll know he can't hurt me anymore."
I finished my makeup, went about my day and then saw him again, in town. I braced myself for the all-familiar.....
Nothing.
I. felt. NOTHING.
Never has "nothing" felt so good. I sat in my car and let "nothing" settle within me. It was as sweet as bliss.
I saw him again later that day. Nothing.
And again the next day. Nothing.
It's been years and I still feel NOTHING.
I was liberated. Cut from the garbage that controlled me. I can finally say now that I forgive the man. That while what he did was a slap in my face, I feel no more ill feelings. I feel nothing towards him. He's an acquaintance now and while I have no idea if he's comfortable with that or comfortable during the times he sees me, I am.
I have made my peace.
I don't hate him anymore.
I still see his value.
And maybe, if the day ever comes when he does ask for forgiveness, I can say, "Don't worry about it, I forgave you long ago."
But I won't hold my breath.
And yet I wonder if that's how it's supposed to be. For the learning during the forgiveness process holds a value we can never achieve any where else.
Several years ago a friend of mine was going through a tough time. From an outside perspective, I would believe that he brought these "tough times" upon himself. But since I have not walked the road he did, I can not judge what caused this time in his life.
Sadly, I understood one thing he was going through. He was best friends with a group of guys and seemingly out of nowhere all his friends stop contacting him, returning his calls, or even trying to salvage their friendship. From my imperfect perspective I saw that the choices he's made in his life caused his friends to make this decision.
But since I once had a group of friends that push me away, and treated me like a stranger due to a severe depression that encompassed my life so much so that I could barely survive each day EXISTING, let alone keeping up with friends and their lives, I completely understood where this friend was coming from.
I did all that I could to let him know that I cared about him, that I found value in him and that I didn't limit my belief in him due to the life he was living. And most importantly, I wanted him to know he could rely on me.
And then one day it all came crashing down. He took advantage of my friendship and while at my house, stole from me to feed this addiction of his. Two, 30 count bottles of expired Hydrocodone, GONE. I figured he was better than that, that he had the decency to respect our friendship, and my belongings. He probably assumed that since they were expired I wouldn't notice them missing. But just a week prior, I cleaned out my medicine box but kept those, as at the time I had no medical insurance and while I hate that kind of medicine and instead will take Ibuprofen, I can't predict my future and if I'll ever need them.
While he never said anything and I was so hurt I cut him off, and after rehab we spoke no more to each other, I still wanted him to ask for forgiveness. I wanted it so bad. I wanted to know he was dearly sorry for what he had done. I wanted to know that he knew this ridiculous action of his destroyed my trust in him and shattered our friendship. An apology could have salvaged that. And I didn't want to go to him to get it. I wanted him to want to apologize.
But instead he went on with life like it didn't. even. matter.
This hurt me so much that it encompassed my life and festered something nasty within me. I couldn't focus without my anger towards him dancing in the background of my mind, slowing coming forward until I couldn't think of anything else. My happiness diminished because I was so caught up in how much he betrayed me. I wished him terrible things. I wished karma would hit him so hard and for the whole world to see. What sweet revenge I would feel to watch him go down, getting a taste of what I felt he deserved.
I realized one day, talking to my friend, that I needed to forgive him. My life wasn't getting any better, holding onto feelings that aren't hurting him, but wreaking havoc on my spirit.
And I did.
Or so I thought I did.
I would see him in town and those feelings resurfaced. I would spend the rest of the day rehashing those old feelings, wishing him hell to pay. The feelings stronger than before.
Remembering the error of my ways, I would forgive him again.
And then I would see him at church, CHURCH, and instead of me being Christlike and with a Christlike attitude, I instead looked at him as the sinner whose actions should give him no reason to show up and act like he was perfect, his prayers eloquent enough to bring one to tears and a knowledge of their own sins, but he went on like he did nothing to me. And then I would look at the congregation and wonder, "Who else has he done this with? And they not know?"
Each time this cycle continued, when those angry feelings came back, they came back tenfold.
Finally one day, while talking to this same friend she said, "Ladee, I don't think you've forgiven him."
And while I thought her words were out of line, I left from her house that day realizing she was right. Forgiveness means that I am no longer tied down to the negative feelings. It means I can move forward in my life with no more reminders of what he did, because it no longer controls me.
I was once told that the only things/beliefs that can control you are the things/beliefs that you allow to control you.
One day I was in my dining room, preparing a lesson I had to give the next day when I saw the reflection of a car pass in front of my house. I felt attacked with the same energy I felt when I would see my friend. I found myself uttering, "I am going to guess that is him". And within an instant I was running into my kitchen to see his work vehicle drive away.
I understood at that moment that it didn't matter how many times I begged God to help me forgive him, as I was forgiving him, it was a dark energy this man carried within him that projected on to me that clung to me, that made me the same person he is: full of rage and hatred.
I processed this for a day or two. I was putting on my makeup one morning, with this all still on my mind. He had to have known that his anger with me, I being one of the many that cut ties to him, affected me. I already knew his bitterness towards those that let him go. So he had to have felt the same towards me.
I had an idea. A thought clear as day came into my mind and with half a face of makeup on, I prayed.
"Dear Lord, please shield me from the negative energy that attacks me when we see each other. I pray it'll bounce off me and be given back to him, so he'll know he can't hurt me anymore."
I finished my makeup, went about my day and then saw him again, in town. I braced myself for the all-familiar.....
Nothing.
I. felt. NOTHING.
Never has "nothing" felt so good. I sat in my car and let "nothing" settle within me. It was as sweet as bliss.
I saw him again later that day. Nothing.
And again the next day. Nothing.
It's been years and I still feel NOTHING.
I was liberated. Cut from the garbage that controlled me. I can finally say now that I forgive the man. That while what he did was a slap in my face, I feel no more ill feelings. I feel nothing towards him. He's an acquaintance now and while I have no idea if he's comfortable with that or comfortable during the times he sees me, I am.
I have made my peace.
I don't hate him anymore.
I still see his value.
And maybe, if the day ever comes when he does ask for forgiveness, I can say, "Don't worry about it, I forgave you long ago."
But I won't hold my breath.
A week or so ago I decided to change up my twitter banner, to which I used that same banner to change my youtube and facebook cover photo.
As I was going through these selfies, mostly put up on Instagram, I reminisced the reason as to why I took these pictures and why I posted them on Instagram. One in particular I posted because I was having a terrible day and felt faking my happiness would help my attitude to change. Another pic I took and used as a profile picture because I grew tired of the one I had. Another I took as part of an Instagram contest, believing I would win but out of the mere four people that entered, I didn't.
Each picture held a different emotion and each picture reminded me of where I have come, even though these pictures were done recently, I have found that I'm a day better than I was from yesterday.
And while I put together my banner/cover photo, I became inspired. The next day I wrote up the 5 tips on how to "Check yo' selfie before you wreck yo' selfie" and filmed it that afternoon.
Here's what I share. What are your thoughts? Would you agree? Would you add to what I've written?
As I was going through these selfies, mostly put up on Instagram, I reminisced the reason as to why I took these pictures and why I posted them on Instagram. One in particular I posted because I was having a terrible day and felt faking my happiness would help my attitude to change. Another pic I took and used as a profile picture because I grew tired of the one I had. Another I took as part of an Instagram contest, believing I would win but out of the mere four people that entered, I didn't.
Each picture held a different emotion and each picture reminded me of where I have come, even though these pictures were done recently, I have found that I'm a day better than I was from yesterday.
And while I put together my banner/cover photo, I became inspired. The next day I wrote up the 5 tips on how to "Check yo' selfie before you wreck yo' selfie" and filmed it that afternoon.
Here's what I share. What are your thoughts? Would you agree? Would you add to what I've written?
A friend of mine posted a question on facebook, talking about how she had three different important meetings to attend but didn't necessarily have the means to dress fancy for each of them.
I gave her some helpful tips on keeping her shirt and skirt the same but changing up her hair and accessories! This inspired me to make my own video, showing some of my secrets to getting that snazzy outfit using the clothing and accessories you already have.
(You could easily swap out the jeans for a skirt!)
I gave her some helpful tips on keeping her shirt and skirt the same but changing up her hair and accessories! This inspired me to make my own video, showing some of my secrets to getting that snazzy outfit using the clothing and accessories you already have.
(You could easily swap out the jeans for a skirt!)
Four simple words that slashed my self worth nearly 15 years ago, lifted my spirits the other evening.
I look back at how badly I just wanted to be something to someone. How badly I wanted to be great in everyone's eyes. I wanted to be a part of a group, love it, and have everyone love me.
But I didn't have that. I was an awkward girl, socially awkward at best. I was introverted and shy and feared saying anything because I feared that the attention that I get could very well be negative. And I didn't want negative attention, I didn't want someone to call me out in a crowd and embarrass me with questions or demands or something that would put me on the spot and leave me with no room to give the right response.
I feared this so much, I held myself back. I wanted to be a natural at anything. I wanted to be naturally confident. I wanted to be a natural beauty. All those things, or even one of those things, in my mind, would definitely have me fitting in somewhere and being known to those around me as a someone.
This mental fight to be something great while fearing what "great" may be had me reverting to being a wall flower, tucked into the background while I watched everyone else live up their time to shine with their friends. I admired how well each person fit into the different groups while I pleaded to be a part of something.
My group of friends weren't part of a select group. We were just there. And even at that, my friends were more popular than me. More people from other groups talked with them, laughed with them, hugged them, supported them than any did me. I assumed that was because I just didn't have what my friends had. Which, looking back, I didn't.
And while that's neither here nor there, through the school of hard knocks I have found that I am best as my own person, a person who loves all the different groups and can appreciate them all. I'm that person who doesn't like to be tied down to a tribe when there's so many incredible people in other tribes that I am just dying to know.
I went to bed after saying those four words, seeing how much I have changed, how the words I used to say hurt me more than I understood. The words came full circle, back to a Ladee who embraced the words with love and appreciation, than how they were expressed in the past: a truth that was falsely interpreted as I being the problem.
I had to make a video on it, of course. And while those days were tough, I can look back on them and laugh. How I wish the young Ladee could see that those harmful, hateful words are now words that I am happy to express.
Ladee, you don't fit in. You'll never fit in.
I look back at how badly I just wanted to be something to someone. How badly I wanted to be great in everyone's eyes. I wanted to be a part of a group, love it, and have everyone love me.
But I didn't have that. I was an awkward girl, socially awkward at best. I was introverted and shy and feared saying anything because I feared that the attention that I get could very well be negative. And I didn't want negative attention, I didn't want someone to call me out in a crowd and embarrass me with questions or demands or something that would put me on the spot and leave me with no room to give the right response.
I feared this so much, I held myself back. I wanted to be a natural at anything. I wanted to be naturally confident. I wanted to be a natural beauty. All those things, or even one of those things, in my mind, would definitely have me fitting in somewhere and being known to those around me as a someone.
This mental fight to be something great while fearing what "great" may be had me reverting to being a wall flower, tucked into the background while I watched everyone else live up their time to shine with their friends. I admired how well each person fit into the different groups while I pleaded to be a part of something.
My group of friends weren't part of a select group. We were just there. And even at that, my friends were more popular than me. More people from other groups talked with them, laughed with them, hugged them, supported them than any did me. I assumed that was because I just didn't have what my friends had. Which, looking back, I didn't.
And while that's neither here nor there, through the school of hard knocks I have found that I am best as my own person, a person who loves all the different groups and can appreciate them all. I'm that person who doesn't like to be tied down to a tribe when there's so many incredible people in other tribes that I am just dying to know.
I went to bed after saying those four words, seeing how much I have changed, how the words I used to say hurt me more than I understood. The words came full circle, back to a Ladee who embraced the words with love and appreciation, than how they were expressed in the past: a truth that was falsely interpreted as I being the problem.
I had to make a video on it, of course. And while those days were tough, I can look back on them and laugh. How I wish the young Ladee could see that those harmful, hateful words are now words that I am happy to express.
Ladee, you don't fit in. You'll never fit in.
And girl, that's the best thing for you.
The days of Myspace seem forever ago, don't they?
Myspace was started in 2003 and I can't recall which year I created an account but I believe by the time I did, I already had a child or two and looking back on those days with little children, I barely remember much of it, let alone how active I was on something as "strange" and "new" as a social media website, as exciting as it was.
But one thing I do remember are the questionnaires. And how I loved to answer them.
I was that one that would find the longest questionnaires possible as I assumed everyone was chomping at the bit to read my answers; to know that much more about me than I was already willing to spill--if they would just ask!
Since I'm one who loves to ask people questions, I just assumed that people would be tickled pink to know that I've saved them the hassle of asking me these minute questions that they must have bottled up within them, awaiting the moment for when the time was right to ask, because surely, everyone wants to know me in full detail. I envisioned all my top friends intently staring at their computer screen, drinking in every last answer I wrote, ignoring their phone, tuning out the TV, in full suspense as to how I would answer each question...like an obsessed Britney fan would be during one of her interviews.
I had a bitter dose of reality when my top friends, when asked, would say they skimmed my questionnaires, or they never got around to reading it. How dare they take our friendship so lightly that they didn't care to know what my favorite color of socks are? That I prefer whole wheat to white! That I like being blond better than brunette! They should know that I'm in love with Ricky Martin and Shakira and that I don't want some country singer's CD, whom I never mentioned on any of my questionnaires, for my birthday! Gosh, who are these friends of mine?!
One day I was watching a favorite youtuber of mine do a 25 questioned tag and it took her nearly ten minutes to answer it. I then chuckled to myself, wondering how long it would take had we Myspacers took the time to answer the 100 questioned questionnaires via video.
And that's when I thought it would be fun to look up these old questionnaires and answer a shorter one for you.
Shakira is still a big part of my life. Some things never change.
Myspace was started in 2003 and I can't recall which year I created an account but I believe by the time I did, I already had a child or two and looking back on those days with little children, I barely remember much of it, let alone how active I was on something as "strange" and "new" as a social media website, as exciting as it was.
But one thing I do remember are the questionnaires. And how I loved to answer them.
I was that one that would find the longest questionnaires possible as I assumed everyone was chomping at the bit to read my answers; to know that much more about me than I was already willing to spill--if they would just ask!
Since I'm one who loves to ask people questions, I just assumed that people would be tickled pink to know that I've saved them the hassle of asking me these minute questions that they must have bottled up within them, awaiting the moment for when the time was right to ask, because surely, everyone wants to know me in full detail. I envisioned all my top friends intently staring at their computer screen, drinking in every last answer I wrote, ignoring their phone, tuning out the TV, in full suspense as to how I would answer each question...like an obsessed Britney fan would be during one of her interviews.
I had a bitter dose of reality when my top friends, when asked, would say they skimmed my questionnaires, or they never got around to reading it. How dare they take our friendship so lightly that they didn't care to know what my favorite color of socks are? That I prefer whole wheat to white! That I like being blond better than brunette! They should know that I'm in love with Ricky Martin and Shakira and that I don't want some country singer's CD, whom I never mentioned on any of my questionnaires, for my birthday! Gosh, who are these friends of mine?!
One day I was watching a favorite youtuber of mine do a 25 questioned tag and it took her nearly ten minutes to answer it. I then chuckled to myself, wondering how long it would take had we Myspacers took the time to answer the 100 questioned questionnaires via video.
And that's when I thought it would be fun to look up these old questionnaires and answer a shorter one for you.
Shakira is still a big part of my life. Some things never change.
...you never seem to get a complete thought through, during the 16 minutes of video filmed.
I had a story to tell. It had meaning, it was awesome. I was proud of what I was to share.
And while I whittled this down to under two minutes, I had interruption after interruption that hindered it from being the spectacular video that I had dreamed up in this cranium. I was applying my mascara this morning, rehearsed what I was going to say, looked at my freshly made face and smiled, "Oh yeah, this video is going to kick-booty. This girl is gonna inspire."
Well, make or fail, I'm gonna post it anyway!
Meet: My mailman.
Do you think he likes me? I think he may find me charming.
Because charming is someone talking animatedly to their rear view mirror these days. Fo' real.
I had a story to tell. It had meaning, it was awesome. I was proud of what I was to share.
And while I whittled this down to under two minutes, I had interruption after interruption that hindered it from being the spectacular video that I had dreamed up in this cranium. I was applying my mascara this morning, rehearsed what I was going to say, looked at my freshly made face and smiled, "Oh yeah, this video is going to kick-booty. This girl is gonna inspire."
Well, make or fail, I'm gonna post it anyway!
Meet: My mailman.
Do you think he likes me? I think he may find me charming.
Because charming is someone talking animatedly to their rear view mirror these days. Fo' real.
I worried it was. I worried that the person I was in high school would be the same person I was to be the rest of my life. I hated thinking I just had to accept that and move on.
But I was happy when I understood that I didn't have to be like that anymore. And that I could be whateva the heck this woman wanted to be.
Watch as I relive some old memories and post a few old pics.
But I was happy when I understood that I didn't have to be like that anymore. And that I could be whateva the heck this woman wanted to be.
Watch as I relive some old memories and post a few old pics.
After trying to do a video in two different locations in my neighborhood, I gave up and decided to park in my alley. I had this great video idea in mind but whenever people are walking outside and see that I'm in my car, my thought process gets interrupted, paranoia sets in as I wonder if they too are paranoid a stranger is hangin' out by their house, and then I have more editing to do to remove it all!
While I know, and truly understand, that this girl needs to do her videos INSIDE and has been begging Santa for a while now to bring her a Canon T3i (and almost was fooled by a Craigslister into buying a T3), I assumed, while pulling up into my driveway, via my alley, that NO ONE would bother me there.
And, well, watch and see what happens. ;)
While I know, and truly understand, that this girl needs to do her videos INSIDE and has been begging Santa for a while now to bring her a Canon T3i (and almost was fooled by a Craigslister into buying a T3), I assumed, while pulling up into my driveway, via my alley, that NO ONE would bother me there.
And, well, watch and see what happens. ;)
I am a cheater.
Sometimes I want it all now, with the least amount of work.
And that definitely includes my morning routine.
How I love to sleep. I have such a love affair with sleep that Mr Hunter used to get frustrated with me, then concerned, and now the poor man has just plum given. up.
But that doesn't keep me from those early morning meetings that I have to attend...*sigh*.
So what do I do?
Well, let me tell ya!
Sometimes I want it all now, with the least amount of work.
And that definitely includes my morning routine.
How I love to sleep. I have such a love affair with sleep that Mr Hunter used to get frustrated with me, then concerned, and now the poor man has just plum given. up.
But that doesn't keep me from those early morning meetings that I have to attend...*sigh*.
So what do I do?
Well, let me tell ya!
I completely forgot that today was the full moon.
I remembered that it was my friend's birthday!
I remembered that I have a dinner date tonight!
But come around 5:45 this evening, while making dinner, I realized that since the later afternoon, while folding laundry, I have been feeling overwhelmed and anxious, suddenly feeling like I am carrying too much and have no control over what is going on in my day. I feel buried under the knowledge of all the things I have to do within the next two weeks and feel so little and inadequate to be able to get it done. I begin critiquing how I acted today towards others, questioning how great of a mother I am, blaming myself for not being a better homemaker. I'm looking around and seeing so much housework that needs to be done and all of it, my fault, and believing only I am the one who is to tackle it.
As I go to check the dinner that's cooking in the oven I get a thought that says, "Remember Ladee, it's the full moon." To which I hear myself sigh with relief and under my breath I mutter, "OH YEAH! Wasn't that supposed to happen this evening?"
I have the moon schedule on my calendar. I go to check and sure enough, right around the time I started feeling this overwhelming anxiety, was when it was officially the full moon (4:23pm).
I thought maybe I had been cured of this full moon garbage. The last two months I wasn't phased by it, I remember thinking, "Maybe I've outgrown all this. Maybe that was just a season in my life that is now over." Pffffft, what wishful thinking.
Regardless, one thing is for certain, this only lasts a day and tomorrow, I will be up and feeling like my old self.
I remembered that it was my friend's birthday!
I remembered that I have a dinner date tonight!
But come around 5:45 this evening, while making dinner, I realized that since the later afternoon, while folding laundry, I have been feeling overwhelmed and anxious, suddenly feeling like I am carrying too much and have no control over what is going on in my day. I feel buried under the knowledge of all the things I have to do within the next two weeks and feel so little and inadequate to be able to get it done. I begin critiquing how I acted today towards others, questioning how great of a mother I am, blaming myself for not being a better homemaker. I'm looking around and seeing so much housework that needs to be done and all of it, my fault, and believing only I am the one who is to tackle it.
As I go to check the dinner that's cooking in the oven I get a thought that says, "Remember Ladee, it's the full moon." To which I hear myself sigh with relief and under my breath I mutter, "OH YEAH! Wasn't that supposed to happen this evening?"
I have the moon schedule on my calendar. I go to check and sure enough, right around the time I started feeling this overwhelming anxiety, was when it was officially the full moon (4:23pm).
I thought maybe I had been cured of this full moon garbage. The last two months I wasn't phased by it, I remember thinking, "Maybe I've outgrown all this. Maybe that was just a season in my life that is now over." Pffffft, what wishful thinking.
Regardless, one thing is for certain, this only lasts a day and tomorrow, I will be up and feeling like my old self.
While I understand that wearing white, grey, or black isn't right for me (and will wear it anyway), I don't have the eye to know exactly which shade works for me. There's a few of those iffy shirts, mostly in PINK that will have me confuzzled to the brink of pulling my hair out.
One day I had my friend over, who loves the 12 Seasons, brought along her color cards to show them off to me. I grab out two of my "iffy" shirts, which happen to be dress shirts, and said, "Are any of these close to my colors?" My friend understand when I say that that I'm also asking, "Is this Type 3?"
She takes one look at them and says, "No," before saying the exact season/Type this does fit in.
And then it made sense that that would be why, when I did wear those shirts, that I would have to beat myself up to find the right skirt and accessories to match.
I usually know when a color works for me because I can get it to match with any other color that I also know works best for me. But sometimes I get hung up on the iffy's and will drive myself crazy to make it work, or will give up and take it out of my outfit.
Today I'm wearing a sweater that at the beginning of Spring, I was wearing it all the time. I loved how it looked on me then...but now? Ehhhhh.
By the way, the coloring is so off in this video. My sweater is actually a rich salmon color. GO FIGURE!!
(That would explain too why most of the shirts I do my videos in that aren't white, grey, or black look like the wrong color!)
One day I had my friend over, who loves the 12 Seasons, brought along her color cards to show them off to me. I grab out two of my "iffy" shirts, which happen to be dress shirts, and said, "Are any of these close to my colors?" My friend understand when I say that that I'm also asking, "Is this Type 3?"
She takes one look at them and says, "No," before saying the exact season/Type this does fit in.
And then it made sense that that would be why, when I did wear those shirts, that I would have to beat myself up to find the right skirt and accessories to match.
I usually know when a color works for me because I can get it to match with any other color that I also know works best for me. But sometimes I get hung up on the iffy's and will drive myself crazy to make it work, or will give up and take it out of my outfit.
Today I'm wearing a sweater that at the beginning of Spring, I was wearing it all the time. I loved how it looked on me then...but now? Ehhhhh.
By the way, the coloring is so off in this video. My sweater is actually a rich salmon color. GO FIGURE!!
(That would explain too why most of the shirts I do my videos in that aren't white, grey, or black look like the wrong color!)
You don't have to change your outfit just to look nice! Here's some simple steps to turn the most basic outfit into a fancy one.
Jane is incredible and this is why I KNOW everyone should know her. Go meet her!
Am I still dressing my "truth"? Watch and see!
I've had a smart phone for about 5 years. I may have not been the first to jump the smartphone bandwagon, but I eventually got on and now I don't think I could ever go back to my Motorola RAZR, as much as I thought that was the bomb-diggity when I had it.
One thing I thought I would adjust to would be the random beeps and bings that my phone made. At first I liked all the sounds my phone made. It meant that I was cool. Or something. Like, for the first time ever, I actually feel popular. #LastingHighSchoolIssues #EvenAsAGrownUp
And then I realized that the more we have smartphones and the more that we rely upon them, the more sounds these phones make with less time in between.
And the more I live in a world of smartphones, the more I can't stand them!
I used to find it fun to have life interrupted by this world I held in my hand....now all I wanna do is stuff it under my mattress and forget about it!
Regardless, ^that^ is all besides the point of why I did this video. I get paranoid when I text people sometimes. Sometimes I don't know how to text and sometimes I worry that if I don't use emoticons, people will misread me. Such a mental tug-of-war that I go through. #FirstWorldProblems
#WhyAmIHashtagging?
But there's one thing about texting that really makes me paranoid.
Listen as I explain what that is!
One thing I thought I would adjust to would be the random beeps and bings that my phone made. At first I liked all the sounds my phone made. It meant that I was cool. Or something. Like, for the first time ever, I actually feel popular. #LastingHighSchoolIssues #EvenAsAGrownUp
And then I realized that the more we have smartphones and the more that we rely upon them, the more sounds these phones make with less time in between.
And the more I live in a world of smartphones, the more I can't stand them!
I used to find it fun to have life interrupted by this world I held in my hand....now all I wanna do is stuff it under my mattress and forget about it!
Regardless, ^that^ is all besides the point of why I did this video. I get paranoid when I text people sometimes. Sometimes I don't know how to text and sometimes I worry that if I don't use emoticons, people will misread me. Such a mental tug-of-war that I go through. #FirstWorldProblems
#WhyAmIHashtagging?
But there's one thing about texting that really makes me paranoid.
Listen as I explain what that is!
