This was posted on Twitter’s Think Smarter a few days ago. This is so true, it’s scary. This is the kind of thing that makes me want to shrink up and hide in a little hole. I get the irony. I write a public blog every day where I spill my guts, yet I abhor the idea of being cyber-ly followed and tracked.
Privacy is such an independent, personal concept. When we were little, my cousin made up a song that we used to tease her about, yet I can still sing it. “PRIIIIIIVACY! If you want some . . . . close the door!! PRIIIIIVACY!”
I am perfectly comfortable with being very open about my feelings and perceptions on a public format, but I like my day-to-day happenings to be mostly private, and my own. I think most people are probably the opposite of that. Yet, there are the people who are willing to “let it all hang out”, like reality TV stars and the Kardasians. On the other hand, you have the entirely mysterious people who seem to leave no public footprint at all.
No matter what our privacy preferences are, one thing can be sure, if we have a cell phone, or a computer, or we spend any time in public places, someone/something is seeing us, recording us, tracking our preferences and keeping the data. It’s funny that I am comfortable with the idea of God and the angels doing this. Yet artificial intelligence makes me shiver in fear and disgust sometimes.
Confession: I’m a big cry baby when I am angry. I probably cry more when I am angry than when I am sad. It drives me crazy. It drives other people crazy. I think other people think that it is a manipulative thing on my part. Unfortunately, I’m not a good actress. I wish that I could automatically turn on the waterworks, when they could come in handy. There are times when I think to myself, “This IS the appropriate time to cry,” and yet, I can’t get any kind of tears to flow, to save me.
I don’t like to see myself as a weak person. I’m 48 years old and the mother of four almost grown children. I’ve taken my share of licks in life. I don’t get angry easily or often, but when I do, I admit that it isn’t pretty. I am a fire sign. My temper has been described as “fiery” by more than a dozen people in my life, throughout the years. Perhaps I need to cry the tears, in order to quell the fire.
I took an informal survey with some friends about the tendency to cry when you are angry. Luckily (I guess), I am not alone in this trait. Of course, I was only surveying women. An article in Psychology Today has this to say:
“It’s become increasingly common for therapists to note that underlying your anger are feelings of hurt. In fact the more pronounced your anger, the greater the hurt it conceals. So if the phrase “angry tears” sounds oxymoronic to you, that’s because it is: It’s profoundly descriptive of human experience yet, on the face of it, certainly sounds illogical. Still, it’s likely that at some point in your life you, too, have felt this deeply mixed emotion.”
Medical News Today offers these tips to control crying:
Tips for controlling crying
1. Walk away
2. Use words
3. Have props and use distractions
Having something to scribble on, a stress ball, or something to look at visually may be of use when heading into a situation that could trigger crying.
4. Think about something positive or funny instead
5. Concentrate on breathing
6. Blink and move the eyes
7. Relaxing facial muscles
8. Get rid of that throat lump
(Emotional crying also affects the nervous system. One way it reacts is by opening up the muscle at the back of the throat (called the glottis). This feels as though a lump is forming in the throat. Sipping water, swallowing, and yawning can help make the lump go away.)
9. Do some exercise
If all else fails, one article suggested that people should admit and address it up front that they are currently feeling angry, and when they feel angry, tears often come. It is not a trait they can control or like, but it shows the level of passion, hurt and anger they are feeling about the particular circumstance. In that sense, you can take control back in a situation, where you are feeling a little out of control.
I guess like all things, a level of acceptance probably would help the situation of me crying when I am an angry. What you resist, persists. If I own it, to myself and to others, and treat it as just my personal response to deeply felt emotion, it becomes less of a big deal. Maybe it will become even less of an occurrence, with that level of acceptance. I don’t know. Let’s test it. In the words of Clint Eastwood, “Go Ahead, Make My Day.” (but wear a raincoat, just in case.)
Does an optimist, hoping for a certain outcome, believe that the desired outcome is going to happen? Or does an optimist just believe that whatever is meant to be is going to happen, and what happens IS the best outcome, no matter how things seem?
I like to think of myself as an optimist, but I also don’t like to get my hopes up. Perhaps being an optimist, means always being able to see the bright side of things, no matter what happens. Maybe being an optimist, one just lets things happen, and sees the silver lining in everything that does happen.
Sometimes people see optimists as dumb “Pollyanna” type characters who don’t face life with realistic views. I wonder if there is a middle ground character between optimists and pessimists. I guess the middle characters would be considered to be “neutralists.” These are the people who hope for the best, but prepare for the worst. They never get too high with the highs, and too low with the lows.
Then there are the spiritualists that tell us to stay away from duality. They say that there really isn’t “good” or “bad”. Things just are. Life just is. These spiritualists say that it is our stories and perspectives that we place upon events, that turn these events into epic stories of good versus evil. They tell us to try to live our lives by just experiencing it, without judging it.
“Promise Yourself
To be so strong that nothing can disturb your peace of mind. To talk health, happiness, and prosperity to every person you meet.
To make all your friends feel that there is something in them To look at the sunny side of everything and make your optimism come true.
To think only the best, to work only for the best, and to expect only the best. To be just as enthusiastic about the success of others as you are about your own.
To forget the mistakes of the past and press on to the greater achievements of the future. To wear a cheerful countenance at all times and give every living creature you meet a smile.
To give so much time to the improvement of yourself that you have no time to criticize others. To be too large for worry, too noble for anger, too strong for fear, and too happy to permit the presence of trouble.
To think well of yourself and to proclaim this fact to the world, not in loud words but great deeds. To live in faith that the whole world is on your side so long as you are true to the best that is in you.” ― Christian D. Larson, Your Forces and How to Use Them
The other day, I had the pleasure of having “the cable guy” at my house for the span of the entire day. We decided to finally switch cable companies, overcoming a long span of inertia, by the fact that we were being gouged by our previous TV/internet provider for years. But when our cable bill started competing with our grocery budget, when it started coming in right under the mortgage payment, I could no longer sit idly by, letting our money fly out of the window, at high internet speeds.
Frankly, I look at TV/internet providers, the same way that I view politicians: just a big pot of mess and evil, to greater and lesser degrees. So when the new provider told me that “the cable guy” would be at my house for an hour to an hour and a half, tops, I already blocked off the whole morning, on my calendar. Ever the optimist, I didn’t plan on blocking off my entire day to allowing a small, angry, sweaty man race all over my house and attic, swearing under his breath, digging up my yard, only to hand me the channel changer to one of my TVs, to have us both realize, that we could no longer turn the TV off. So the break that I was getting in a cheaper cable bill, would now be made up in our electricity bill.
During the new cable set-up day, I texted friends complaints throughout the day. We came up with a brilliant plan to light a fire under future cable guys’ butts. We decided that whenever you are having cable/internet/phone service (or any of the like) set up, you should invite over your most annoying, know-it-all, relative or neighbor. We all know the guy (sorry, but it IS usually a guy) who I’m talking about. He’s the guy who knows more about, and how to do everybody’s jobs, than they do. He is the guy standing behind “the cable guy” holding a coffee cup, filled with high octane coffee, barking out tips and suggestions and platitudes on how to get the job done right. My friends and I figured that would at least shave off a few hours from the job, as long as things didn’t escalate to murder, hence involving police and ambulance workers.
Reality is though, I won’t be having a cable guy out to our house any time soon. I will complain to friends and neighbors about outages and prices and the ridiculousness of having 879 TV channels, of which, only about three of those channels interest me. Then, decades down the road, I will finally get fed up with, “Sorry, but you just don’t qualify for any of our fantastic discounts as this point in time.” (once they get you hooked in with inertia and fear of a day spent with an angry “cable guy”, discounts no longer apply – ever.) I will call a new provider. They will tell me the change will take only a few minutes (this is decades down the road, remember). At this juncture, I will invite “that guy” over to make sure that “the cable guy” stays in his allotted time frame, for rigging and wiring my media to the price gouging setting. I have a plan in place.
Here’s to all of the good guys out there and there is a lot more of them out there, then the media wants to portray. Here’s to all of the good guys who are devoted to their families, who love their wives and provide for their kids. Here’s to all of the good guys who make sure that their families are safe, protected and warm. Here’s to all of the good guys who lovingly keep up their homes and always offer a helping hand to their friends and neighbors. Here’s to all of the good guys who serve our communities, our countries, and our God. Here’s to all of the good guys who attend yet another little sluggers game that their child or grandchild is playing in, versus playing another round of golf. Here’s to all of the good guys who have devoted their lives to a bigger cause (their families, their purposeful work, their duties and responsibilities) than just their own personal wants and needs. Here’s to all of the good guys out there! There are a ton of you! I am married to one. We see you all every day. We don’t say thank you. We take you for granted until one jerk messes up and then we lump you in with the “jerks.” But I know that there are a lot more good guys out there than there are jerks. Good guys just quietly, graciously, go about doing their thing – being strong, silent, devoted men without crying out for attention or gratitude. Good guys don’t finish last. Good guys last. Good guys are solid. They last through turmoil, upheaval, all of the highs and lows of life, and they do this all stably, with strong, firm chins and a vision for the future. Here’s to all of the good guys! We see you. We appreciate you and everything that you do for us.
Lately I have noticed that I am a little obsessed with time. I feel like I am always buying more clocks. I own dozens of watches. For my husband’s last birthday, I bought him not one watch, but actually two watches. I recently purchased a nice little desk clock for our spare bedroom and I am pondering buying another, exact same one, for the little alcove desk right outside of that bedroom. On my desk right now, I have two clocks. One works and the other is just an antique clock that looks pretty. I am also currently wearing a watch and both our home phone and my cell phone are in an arm’s reach, with the first thing showing on their faces, of course, is the time of day.
I’m not sure if I have always been so time conscious or if this is a sign of aging. Time is precious. Time is so easily wasted. Time is of the essence . . . . tick tock. tick tock. tick tock.
I understand the theory that time isn’t real, in the sense that we understand it. Technically, we are always in the present moment. We are always in the Now. Still, I think it is good that we came up with a unit to measure our present, precious moments, if for nothing else, than to truly understand the fleeting nature of our lives.
Hello friends and readers!!! Happy Friday!! Happy Favorite Things Friday!!! On Fridays, we keep it light and crispy here at Adulting – Second Half. On Fridays, I list three “favorites” – things, songs, TV shows, books, etc. These favorite things make my material world all the better! Please check out previous Friday posts for other favorites and please, please share you favorites, as well. Because like Madonna says, “We are living in a material world . . . . ” Here goes – today’s favorites:
HBO’s Chernobyl – Amazing TV series! Captivating, awful, excruciating, yet hopeful. The acting in this series is absolutely exquisite. This production came in right under Game of Thrones as one of HBO’s best productions, in my mind. It is definitely worth some of your weekend to start to watch this show and ponder its magnanimity.
Should I Answer? App – I have been on the pointless “no-call list” (HA!) for a long time, but now my cell phone seems like it is THE hot number for anyone selling anything, to call. I want to kiss this app’s feet. So many pointless, ridiculous, aggravating calls have been blocked since I downloaded it. I have proof from the list of blocked calls that it keeps every day. Numbers that are known to be telemarketer/spoof dialers have angry red faces on them, and they cannot get through. Love it!
“Things Are As Big As You Make Them” – This was the best piece of advice I received as a young mother, by another young mother, when we were embroiled in neighborhood drama that was probably rooted in the lack of sleep and the lack of solitude, young mothers get, when they are raising their children. I never forgot this piece of advice and it has helped me, many, many times, keep things in perspective. Now, some things actually do need to be made BIG (to make a point), but most things do not. This little mantra is an excellent reminder of this.
Let’s end Friday, with these “wise” thoughts:
“For Children: You will need to know the difference between Friday and a fried egg. It’s quite a simple difference, but an important one. Friday comes at the end of the week, whereas a fried egg comes out of a chicken. Like most things, of course, it isn’t quite that simple. The fried egg isn’t properly a fried egg until it’s been put in a frying pan and fried. This is something you wouldn’t do to a Friday, of course, though you might do it on a Friday. You can also fry eggs on a Thursday, if you like, or on a cooker. It’s all rather complicated, but it makes a kind of sense if you think about it for a while.” ― Douglas Adams, The Salmon of Doubt
Before I left for my getaway, I was having trouble sleeping at night. This is not because I am worried about anything or because I am in any pain. It all had to do with a horrible, loud, annoying noise that kept me tossing and turning and seriously thinking about purchasing ear plugs or a white noise machine or a straight jacket. This loud noise wasn’t anything man made. It was coming from a creature of Mother Nature.
Our backyard butts up to a small lake and behind the lake is a relatively untouched nature preserve. Normally I love living like Snow White. The diverse nature we observe here is truly stunning and fascinating. We get rafters of turkeys (that is the correct term for a group of turkeys, btw) walking through our backyard all of the time. We get all sorts of birds – herons, eagles, hawks, ducks and woodpeckers. We see deer, rabbits, armadillos, possums, raccoons and alligators, on a frequent basis. Normally, these lovely critters act just as fun eye candy and we have a mutual respect for our respective places as creatures on this beautiful Earth. We all keep a healthy distance from each other and we live in happy symbiosis.
Mating season can get quite loud here, though. I thought mating season would be over by now, but for a few days before I left on my getaway, there was a very insistent, loud, demanding, horny as hell creature who just wouldn’t shut up. Whoever, whatever it was, sounded like he was right outside of our bedroom window. My frustrated, exhausted husband got up once, in the middle of the night, looking to see if it were squirrels or alligators or a new species of bird whose call we hadn’t heard before, sitting right outside of our window, insistently calling out for a mate. I got up to help him, but we just couldn’t find the sneaky source. We rustled in the bushes, our fears of finding something dangerous, with sharp, gnash-y teeth, being abated by our desperate need for sleep. We turned on all of our spotlights, so bright, you would have thought we were a prison, looking desperately for a fugitive prisoner. The noisemaker continued through all of this fuss, mocking us, as he carried on with his insistent screeches and howls.
I had forgotten about this annoyance when I was on my trip. I kept remarking about how well I had slept on my trip, attributing it to the mattress pads or the hotel pillows, not realizing that it was really the serene silence that I had been missing, that was helping me get such sound sleep. As I eagerly turned in last night, excited to be in my own surroundings, in my own familiar bed, as I shut my eyes, ready for sweet, dreamy slumber, my noisy, aggravating nemesis starting his siren song AGAIN. UGH! I had completely forgotten about this pest, on my sweet escape. Last night I got spotty sleep at best.
This morning, as I was grumpily making up our bed, the noise started up again. This was unusual. It had been mostly a night thing . . . a nightmare, for sure. Once again, it sounded like it was coming from our window sliders. In desperation, I got my phone’s flashlight and I looked all over the window, trying to follow the sound. I finally found my nemesis. He wasn’t large. He wasn’t scary. He wasn’t feathered and he didn’t have sharp teeth. He was actually kind of cute and innocent. He reminded me of Kermit . . . Kermit the frog. I set him free. I set us both free, I hope. Tonight will tell if he decides to come back. . . . I guess it isn’t easy being green.
This is travel day, friends. So I am going to call it a “light write” day, so that I don’t miss my flight. I feel very lulled, refreshed, revitalized, yet relaxed. I like how I feel right now. I like my energy. I hope that I can carry my good vibe into my home life and keep it there for a while. If I like me and how I feel right now, I suppose that my family and friends will appreciate a more chill me, as well. I am filled with peace and gratitude.
Whatever you wanna be, just, at the end of the day, if you’re being a good person, which is not hard to be, and you’re putting positive energy into the world, and you’re appreciative and loving to the people around you that care about you and everybody in general, then it’ll work out. Gnash
I absolutely love to read. I figured that I have hours of uninterrupted read time on this getaway, if I want it, so I snagged a book yesterday . . . . a book, it turns out that I have already read. Ugh. Is this part of aging?
I have been wanting to watch the series Big Little Lies for a while now, but I was still finishing out some other shows that my husband and I had been watching, first. My husband seemed to have a lukewarm response to the idea that this should be our next series to watch. He is not a big fan of Meryl Streep. (I am.) So, when I saw the Big Little Lies book with Nicole Kidman and Reese Witherspoon and Zoe Kravitz on the cover, I thought to myself, “Cha-ching!” I usually like books better than the movie or show versions that are based on the books, anyway. I thought to myself that I’ll just luxuriate and read to my heart’s content, with no interruptions, like kids or dogs wondering what is for dinner, or the doorbell ringing, reminding me of yet another package from Amazon to unpack and put away. Wonderful!
About 20 pages in, it dawned on me that I had already read the book. I turned to the copyright page. It said that Big Little Lies was published in 2014. That was only five years ago. My memory is getting that bad that I couldn’t remember that I had read a book that I read probably less than five years ago! Oh my.
I am going to continue to read the book. Obviously, I have forgotten a lot about it, although I vaguely remember the ending. I know who the guilty party is . . . . don’t worry, no spoilers. I even think that I still want to watch the show. By the time we get around to watching the series based on the book, I may have even forgotten that I have read the book . . . . twice. I suppose the big little lie that I am telling myself is that if I turn this all into a big joke and others can laugh along with it and relate to it, this aging thing won’t scare me . . . at all. Big little lie.
