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How I Knew My Mother Was Always Right

In lieu of Mother’s Day this past Sunday…

mothers: even when they're wrong... they're right

It always bewilders me just how much (with every inch of my soul) I deeply believed that my mother was always so wrong. Although I’d always heard the adage, “mom knows best,” I convinced myself every time that her conservative old world  thinking and new world culture bias was preventing her from thinking clearly. It is perfectly fine to give out my address over the internet. I don’t need a more practical degree. Love is all that matters in a relationship.

False. What isn’t false is that the proverb is true for a reason. My mother, along with all the other moms of the world, has a special secret weapon. Guess what? She has lived many more years than her offspring. She has lived, failed, learned, and gone to figure it out a little better the next time. Now, I am not saying that everything moms say is the holy grail of advice, or that when she tells you cats make better friends than humans, that you should clean out the pound of all things feline. I also understand not all moms are created equally. I am simply acknowledging that they know stuff. More stuff than I do at least. Either way, these are just a few of the ways I had to face the dreadful and horribly humbling thought revelation… my mom was right. Read the rest of this entry

Start Getting To Where You Are Going

road sign with multiple arrows

The first thing I saw when I pulled up my Twitter account today was a quote tweeted by this smarty pants that read:

 “You know your DREAM IS REAL if you can’t go a day without thinking about.”

This coincides perfectly with what I have been itching to write about today. You guessed it, my current dream. You see, before I started this blog I had an epiphany of sorts. I am young, single, child free, and at least smarter than a fourth grader (those fifth graders are tough to beat). Why am I still twiddling my thumbs in the same spot I’ve been twiddling for 23 years? Boom. The drive to explore new places hatched, and my wheels began turning at dangerous speeds… at least during the honeymoon stage of this epiphany. After the initial excitement of the eureka wore off a bit, I really logically asked myself that same question. No, really why not yet? Here is how I worked it out in my head: Read the rest of this entry

Facebook, Y U Make Me Sad?

This morning, as I do most mornings, I arrived to work my usual fifteen minutes early. I snuggled myself in to my office, opened my files, email, and fired up the web browser. Then I almost mindlessly typed in f-a-c-e, and the rest manifested itself. Facebook. So, I began the trek of scrolling, reading, and taking in every detail until I felt satisfied. Only this morning did I realize it is not ever really satisfaction that I am experiencing. In fact, it is quite the opposite.

This is a relevant link. It is for clicking.

I don’t think I ever made the conscious observation that sifting though people’s Facebook posts could be making me feel less of myself. Nonetheless this is happening. Now, I am a pretty confident and positive person. I have some truely outstanding friends, few yes, but outstanding. I am intelligent and employed (whew). I don’t have a negative self image outside of Victoria Secret, etc. You get the point.  This is exactly why this article had me a little taken aback. Not only did it confirm what I was ignoring but made me feel a bit relieved at the same time, knowing I am not the only one experiencing this. Basically, Facebook is your cool older sibling having a slumber party. He will gladly let you in the room to see what is going on, only eventually to remind you that you weren’t the one with enough friends to have a slumber party of your own. Then he gives you a wedgie or something. Read the rest of this entry

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