They say a lady doesn't tell her age or her weight. I've already told you how old I am, so you may as well just know: I weigh 155.
One hundred and fifty-five pounds. I've never weighed this much in my life. I got married in a size 4 wedding dress that not only had to be shortened, it also had to be taken up in the bazoom. That was 23 years and about 40 pounds ago, when I wasn't concerned with weight. I vowed I would never be one of those people obsessed with her weight.
Now, 23 years later . . . I wouldn't say I'm obsessed with my weight, but I do think about it. It's hard not to think about it when you pull out last year's summer linen slacks and they don't fit anymore. It's hard not to think about it when you go through your old stuff for the Goodwill and toss out a bunch of S labels because they make you look like an overstuffed sausage, if you can get them on at all. It's hard not to think about when you buy a size L t-shirt and the damn thing is TOO SMALL. Granted, the women's t-shirts now are cut pretty tiny, but still. I'm not LARGE.
Larger than I used to be, yes, like a lot of women my age, but I don't think anyone would say I was LARGE. However, I have a few size 12s in my closet, and 12 is considered a plus size.
Really? Do any of you who have seen me in person really think I'm a PLUS SIZE? I mean, come ON.
Yes, I have done the diet & exercise thing. The truth is, though, I love to eat and I hate to exercise much. I go for walks, I lift a few weights, I practice a little yoga. Sometimes I dance. I try not to eat too much junk. That's about it. I've held pretty steady at 155 for awhile now, so this may be where I stay. I don't particularly like it, because I don't care for the womanly squishiness 155 pounds has brought me, but it ain't going away overnight. Heck, it may not go away at all, which means I better just get used to the idea.
I'm trying. It's a struggle, when I consider my tiny 21 year-old self, but I'm trying.
I remind myself there's quite a bit of muscle under the squish. I can lift & carry a 52-pound box of copy paper, which always leaves the delivery guys stunned. I can tote a giant bag of dog food on my shoulder. I'm also pretty bendy for an old broad. My last physical therapist called me Gumby. (I thought everybody could bend over at the waist and put their palms on the floor.) And I can still do the splits - not as effortlessly as I once did, but I can still do it. My cholesterol is "beautiful" (doctor's exact words) and my vital organs all still work, so I reckon that's all good. It's going to have to be.
Acceptance is a bitch, but she forces you to be honest. I hate her and I love her at the same time.
Till next time --- accept yourself.
Friday, April 12, 2013
Monday, April 8, 2013
Best. Weekend. Ever.
Well, one of them, anyway. How can it not be a fantastic weekend when you go to see Richard Thompson?
Most of you know that I am absolutely crazy about Richard Thompson. I have to admit, though, I am late to the game. I mean, I always was aware of him - heck, I had a Rolling Stone subscription for most of the 80s - but beyond hearing him on the radio here & there, I didn't pay much attention. And then, one evening, I was driving up to Hendersonville and I heard this piece on Fresh Air: Richard Thompson - Looking Back. By the time the show was over, I was completely gobsmacked. Why did I not know about this before??? What rock had I been living under?
I got out of the car to meet Mister and our friends to set up for an event, and I was babbling like an idiot. "OhmyGAWDyouguys, I was just listening to this Richard Thompson interview, and it's like, HOLY CRAP, he sounds like 4 people playing the guitar! And the songs. SWEET FANCY MOSES, THE SONGS."
Mister said, "Yeah, my old roommate and I used to listen to RT a lot back in the day."
I may or may not have accused him of holding out on me. "We've been married 20 years and YOU NEVER TOLD ME???" He just shrugged. The next week I commenced to buying up RT downloads on iTunes. He came to town just a few weeks after my Great Revelation, but we were too broke and too busy to go that time. We finally did get to see him at the Belcourt in an acoustic solo show, which I wrote about in an earlier blog post. Saying that it was magical doesn't even do it justice. The fact that I'm still talking about it two years later should be a clue.
This time, RT had a band with him: drummer Michael Jerome and bassist Taras Prodaniuk, both incredible musicians themselves. He joked about them being a power trio, but that's definitely what they were. Now, I'm not a guitar player, and I don't have any desire to be one, but I'm always amazed by people who make it look effortless. It's like magic. Logically I know it takes work and practice, but still . . . magic, as far as I'm concerned.
I imagine that when you have as large a body of work as RT does, it's hard to choose what songs to put into a 2 hour show. Of course he did several songs from his new album, Electric (just go buy a copy; you'll thank me later), but there were a few surprises, too. I didn't really expect to hear "Did She Jump or Was She Pushed?" or "Wall of Death," but there they were. And if that wasn't enough of a surprise, the power trio launched into "Hey Joe." Yes, that "Hey Joe." It was nothing short of magnificent. A couple of my favorites were missing, but I was pretty content nonetheless. He ended with "Tear Stained Letter" and had the whole house singing along.
The ultimate in geekery for me, though, was "Sidney Wells," a murder ballad (of course!) in 9/8. I love murder ballads, and I love 9/8, so to get both in the same package is pretty darn exciting. And how often do you hear a slip jig played on a red Fender?
So. Richard Thompson on Saturday night, followed up on Sunday afternoon with an Irish singing class at McNamara's with the lovely and charming Michelle Burke. Yeah. Best. Weekend. Ever.
Till next time --- may your weekends be glorious.
Most of you know that I am absolutely crazy about Richard Thompson. I have to admit, though, I am late to the game. I mean, I always was aware of him - heck, I had a Rolling Stone subscription for most of the 80s - but beyond hearing him on the radio here & there, I didn't pay much attention. And then, one evening, I was driving up to Hendersonville and I heard this piece on Fresh Air: Richard Thompson - Looking Back. By the time the show was over, I was completely gobsmacked. Why did I not know about this before??? What rock had I been living under?
I got out of the car to meet Mister and our friends to set up for an event, and I was babbling like an idiot. "OhmyGAWDyouguys, I was just listening to this Richard Thompson interview, and it's like, HOLY CRAP, he sounds like 4 people playing the guitar! And the songs. SWEET FANCY MOSES, THE SONGS."
Mister said, "Yeah, my old roommate and I used to listen to RT a lot back in the day."
I may or may not have accused him of holding out on me. "We've been married 20 years and YOU NEVER TOLD ME???" He just shrugged. The next week I commenced to buying up RT downloads on iTunes. He came to town just a few weeks after my Great Revelation, but we were too broke and too busy to go that time. We finally did get to see him at the Belcourt in an acoustic solo show, which I wrote about in an earlier blog post. Saying that it was magical doesn't even do it justice. The fact that I'm still talking about it two years later should be a clue.
This time, RT had a band with him: drummer Michael Jerome and bassist Taras Prodaniuk, both incredible musicians themselves. He joked about them being a power trio, but that's definitely what they were. Now, I'm not a guitar player, and I don't have any desire to be one, but I'm always amazed by people who make it look effortless. It's like magic. Logically I know it takes work and practice, but still . . . magic, as far as I'm concerned.
I imagine that when you have as large a body of work as RT does, it's hard to choose what songs to put into a 2 hour show. Of course he did several songs from his new album, Electric (just go buy a copy; you'll thank me later), but there were a few surprises, too. I didn't really expect to hear "Did She Jump or Was She Pushed?" or "Wall of Death," but there they were. And if that wasn't enough of a surprise, the power trio launched into "Hey Joe." Yes, that "Hey Joe." It was nothing short of magnificent. A couple of my favorites were missing, but I was pretty content nonetheless. He ended with "Tear Stained Letter" and had the whole house singing along.
The ultimate in geekery for me, though, was "Sidney Wells," a murder ballad (of course!) in 9/8. I love murder ballads, and I love 9/8, so to get both in the same package is pretty darn exciting. And how often do you hear a slip jig played on a red Fender?
So. Richard Thompson on Saturday night, followed up on Sunday afternoon with an Irish singing class at McNamara's with the lovely and charming Michelle Burke. Yeah. Best. Weekend. Ever.
Till next time --- may your weekends be glorious.
Saturday, March 30, 2013
Thoughts on resurrection & rebirth.
Once again it is Easter, when millions of Christians worldwide celebrate the resurrection of Jesus Christ. As a child, this meant little more to me than putting on a frilly dress with white gloves and having a tiny cracker and some grape juice at church. Since then, though, I've come to realize that the resurrection story makes some important points for believers and non-believers alike. To wit:
1. Jesus was willing to die for a cause. Are you? Do you know anyone who is? The world is full of people who talk a big game about a great number of things, but when it comes down to it, talking is all they know how to do. If you want anything to change, you have to do more than talk. You have to take action.You may even have to risk death. Are you up for the challenge?
2. Selling out your friends isn't worth it. Judas was so wracked with guilt over the 30-pieces-of-silver incident that he returned the money and then hanged himself. What sounds like a good idea in the short term may come back to haunt you later, with drastic circumstances. Choose wisely and consider how your choice might affect others.
3. If you want to resurrect something, sometimes you have to let it die first. This was something I heard many years ago from a Baptist minister, but it came back to me later when I read Pema Chodron's book When Things Fall Apart. The minister said that Jesus couldn't bring Lazarus back to life until he was actually dead; Pema Chodron writes that in order to rebuild, sometimes you have to let things fall completely apart. Now, this is hard for us to understand, and even harder to put into action. We want to save things. We want to keep them alive as long as we can. We don't want to let anything die or fall apart because it represents failure. I get that. (Oh, believe me how much I get that.) But an end is an opportunity for a new start, and when you let things fall apart, you're free to put the pieces back together in a new configuration. Consider the phoenix rising from the ashes, or Bill Compton rising from a pile of vampire goo. (Sorry, but I just couldn't resist that one. My True Blood friends will understand.)
Easter comes at a time of year when the earth emerges from its dormancy. Whether you celebrate in a religious manner or not, it's hard to miss the omnipresent reminders of death & rebirth. What can you resurrect in your life?
Till next time --- rise from the ashes.
1. Jesus was willing to die for a cause. Are you? Do you know anyone who is? The world is full of people who talk a big game about a great number of things, but when it comes down to it, talking is all they know how to do. If you want anything to change, you have to do more than talk. You have to take action.You may even have to risk death. Are you up for the challenge?
2. Selling out your friends isn't worth it. Judas was so wracked with guilt over the 30-pieces-of-silver incident that he returned the money and then hanged himself. What sounds like a good idea in the short term may come back to haunt you later, with drastic circumstances. Choose wisely and consider how your choice might affect others.
3. If you want to resurrect something, sometimes you have to let it die first. This was something I heard many years ago from a Baptist minister, but it came back to me later when I read Pema Chodron's book When Things Fall Apart. The minister said that Jesus couldn't bring Lazarus back to life until he was actually dead; Pema Chodron writes that in order to rebuild, sometimes you have to let things fall completely apart. Now, this is hard for us to understand, and even harder to put into action. We want to save things. We want to keep them alive as long as we can. We don't want to let anything die or fall apart because it represents failure. I get that. (Oh, believe me how much I get that.) But an end is an opportunity for a new start, and when you let things fall apart, you're free to put the pieces back together in a new configuration. Consider the phoenix rising from the ashes, or Bill Compton rising from a pile of vampire goo. (Sorry, but I just couldn't resist that one. My True Blood friends will understand.)
Easter comes at a time of year when the earth emerges from its dormancy. Whether you celebrate in a religious manner or not, it's hard to miss the omnipresent reminders of death & rebirth. What can you resurrect in your life?
Till next time --- rise from the ashes.
Monday, March 25, 2013
Wonder what would happen . . .
. . . if we stopped assuming and judging each other?
Because y'all, I'm downright tired. Tired of people tearing each other down for no good reason other than that they're on "the other side." Tired of people judging the lady on welfare who has a nice manicure. (How do you know she doesn't do her own damn nails?) Tired of people perpetually spreading half-assed information on the Interwebs. Tired of alla y'all having these arguments that are never going to change anyone's minds. Tired of people assuming they know what's going on in a random stranger's life. WHY DON'T YOU KNOCK IT OFF WITH THEM NEGATIVE WAVES?
And I admit it, I'm guilty too, especially when I'm feeling extra cranky. I'll argue with a brick wall during those times, although I'm not nearly as bad as I used to be. (Shut up.) I've been known to harsh on such venerated public figures as Taylor Swift and Nicki Minaj. I complain about some of the students at the Big University. I can get flat get my snark on. But the truth is, I fight it - a lot - because it's not really helpful. Sure, it seems like a good idea at the time, but later on? Not so much. I don't particularly relish adding to the negative waves, but it just happens sometimes. I hope I crank out enough positives to make up for my transgressions.
So I'm asking you: what would happen if you stopped assuming? Stopped judging? We never know what battle someone else may be fighting. We can choose to make it worse, or we can choose to make it better somehow.
Till next time - what will you choose?
Because y'all, I'm downright tired. Tired of people tearing each other down for no good reason other than that they're on "the other side." Tired of people judging the lady on welfare who has a nice manicure. (How do you know she doesn't do her own damn nails?) Tired of people perpetually spreading half-assed information on the Interwebs. Tired of alla y'all having these arguments that are never going to change anyone's minds. Tired of people assuming they know what's going on in a random stranger's life. WHY DON'T YOU KNOCK IT OFF WITH THEM NEGATIVE WAVES?
And I admit it, I'm guilty too, especially when I'm feeling extra cranky. I'll argue with a brick wall during those times, although I'm not nearly as bad as I used to be. (Shut up.) I've been known to harsh on such venerated public figures as Taylor Swift and Nicki Minaj. I complain about some of the students at the Big University. I can get flat get my snark on. But the truth is, I fight it - a lot - because it's not really helpful. Sure, it seems like a good idea at the time, but later on? Not so much. I don't particularly relish adding to the negative waves, but it just happens sometimes. I hope I crank out enough positives to make up for my transgressions.
So I'm asking you: what would happen if you stopped assuming? Stopped judging? We never know what battle someone else may be fighting. We can choose to make it worse, or we can choose to make it better somehow.
Till next time - what will you choose?
Wednesday, February 20, 2013
Why I changed my mind about the Kindle.
In my first-ever blog post, I talked about how I made friends with the bread machine after initially resisting it. Well, friends, technology has won me over yet again, and I am not ashamed to say so. I bought myself a Kindle Fire for Christmas and I love it.
Now, don't get me wrong - an electronical gadget will never replace real books for me. Some books are just better and more useful in real paper form, especially books involving detailed photographs of historical clothing or musical instruments. They're typically oversized anyway to accommodate the graphics. Plus, there is something innately satisfying about cradling a book in your hands and feeling the paper. I can't quite describe it, but I think most of you know what I mean. And sheet music? The Kindle is way too small for that. (Note: I know "electronical" isn't a real word. I just happen to find it amusing, like "strategery" or "misunderestimate.")
The Kindle's greatest attribute, for me, is its mobility. I can take it anywhere. If there's a wireless connection, I can get on the Interwebs. Heck, since I don't have a teevee at home in the bedroom, I can take the Kindle upstairs and stream "Twilight Zone" episodes from Netflix all night long. (what???) I watched the first two seasons of "Walking Dead" entirely on the Kindle. (I don't recommend watching that at lunchtime, though. "Fawlty Towers" is a much better choice.)
And Sweet Fancy Moses, the music. Right now I have about 40 full-length albums on the Kindle, mostly Irish stuff. (Richard Thompson is all on the iPod, along with the Beatles, in case anyone was wondering.) I've had to give myself an Amazon 1-Click budget so I don't go broke. Imagine hauling 40 CDs around with you - not that I've ever done that, of course. Now imagine hauling 40 CDs and about 40 books. That's what I've got on this gadget and the gadget fits right in my handbag. How could a book & music nerd NOT love that? I can read anydamnwhere I want!
To be fair, though, e-books aren't always cheap, and sometimes it's still more feasible to buy a used hard copy. One thing I've really enjoyed about books on the Kindle is the ability to highlight key passages. It saves them all on a Notes page so you don't have to worry about remembering what you highlighted where. This is great for me because I always seem to find myself without Post-It flags when I'm reading a hard copy book. Kindle highlighter? No problem!
And so, this 19th-century girl goes kicking and screaming again into the present, but it's really not so bad. I still don't have The Cable, though.
Till next time --- remember, if you don't change your mind about something once in awhile, you may be dead.
Now, don't get me wrong - an electronical gadget will never replace real books for me. Some books are just better and more useful in real paper form, especially books involving detailed photographs of historical clothing or musical instruments. They're typically oversized anyway to accommodate the graphics. Plus, there is something innately satisfying about cradling a book in your hands and feeling the paper. I can't quite describe it, but I think most of you know what I mean. And sheet music? The Kindle is way too small for that. (Note: I know "electronical" isn't a real word. I just happen to find it amusing, like "strategery" or "misunderestimate.")
The Kindle's greatest attribute, for me, is its mobility. I can take it anywhere. If there's a wireless connection, I can get on the Interwebs. Heck, since I don't have a teevee at home in the bedroom, I can take the Kindle upstairs and stream "Twilight Zone" episodes from Netflix all night long. (what???) I watched the first two seasons of "Walking Dead" entirely on the Kindle. (I don't recommend watching that at lunchtime, though. "Fawlty Towers" is a much better choice.)
And Sweet Fancy Moses, the music. Right now I have about 40 full-length albums on the Kindle, mostly Irish stuff. (Richard Thompson is all on the iPod, along with the Beatles, in case anyone was wondering.) I've had to give myself an Amazon 1-Click budget so I don't go broke. Imagine hauling 40 CDs around with you - not that I've ever done that, of course. Now imagine hauling 40 CDs and about 40 books. That's what I've got on this gadget and the gadget fits right in my handbag. How could a book & music nerd NOT love that? I can read anydamnwhere I want!
To be fair, though, e-books aren't always cheap, and sometimes it's still more feasible to buy a used hard copy. One thing I've really enjoyed about books on the Kindle is the ability to highlight key passages. It saves them all on a Notes page so you don't have to worry about remembering what you highlighted where. This is great for me because I always seem to find myself without Post-It flags when I'm reading a hard copy book. Kindle highlighter? No problem!
And so, this 19th-century girl goes kicking and screaming again into the present, but it's really not so bad. I still don't have The Cable, though.
Till next time --- remember, if you don't change your mind about something once in awhile, you may be dead.
Tuesday, February 5, 2013
Showing my age.
The other morning, I caught part of an informercial for an anti-wrinkle product. Said infomercial was hosted by actress Minnie Driver, age 40, extolling the virtues of this product and how it made her look so much younger.
Really? You need to look younger at 40? Exactly how much younger are we talking? It ain't like 40 is ancient. When did it become a crime to actually look your age?
They say a lady doesn't tell her age, but I'll just tell alla y'all right now, I'm 45. FORTY-FIVE. I'm not ashamed of it. I'm thrilled that I've lived long enough to experience all the joys of being a middle-aged woman: weight gain, crazy hormones, gray hair, tiny wrinkles. I earned all that stuff, as inconvenient as some of it may be. And it's all MINE. I plan on keeping my hair red as long as I can, and when I can't anymore, it's going gray. End of story.
Now, granted, I don't look what most people think 45 looks like. I'm fortunate to come from a family of fairly young-looking people, so I do have genetics on my side a little. I also have better science on my side than my parents and grandparents did. Because of that, I think many of us in my age group do look younger at 45 than our parents probably did. I mean, we have sunscreen now that will actually keep you from getting a sunburn (unless you're in Jamaica, but that's another story).
Why the fascination with youth? It pains me to see women like Joan Rivers and Priscilla Presley go under the knife so many times they look freakish. What's wrong with owning those wrinkles, like Helen Mirren or Judi Dench or Maggie Smith? The Dowager Countess would look ridiculous if she were all young and smooth-faced.
I have to admit, when I had my last birthday, I did have a little bit of a quandary. It was like, "oh shit, I'm 45, I guess I have to start acting like an adult now." This lasted all of about a week, if that long. I already gave up ultra-short skirts and bikinis awhile back (although it nearly killed me to admit I just wasn't shaped properly for them anymore), but I ain't turning in my collection of skulls, or my quirky t-shirts, or my crazy shoes, or my outrageous eyeglasses. Nope. Not happening. I may be getting older, but I still plan on having fun, even when my hair goes all gray. Heck, when that happens, I may just shave my head and wear turbans all the time.
Till next time --- be proud of your age. Namaste.
Really? You need to look younger at 40? Exactly how much younger are we talking? It ain't like 40 is ancient. When did it become a crime to actually look your age?
They say a lady doesn't tell her age, but I'll just tell alla y'all right now, I'm 45. FORTY-FIVE. I'm not ashamed of it. I'm thrilled that I've lived long enough to experience all the joys of being a middle-aged woman: weight gain, crazy hormones, gray hair, tiny wrinkles. I earned all that stuff, as inconvenient as some of it may be. And it's all MINE. I plan on keeping my hair red as long as I can, and when I can't anymore, it's going gray. End of story.
Now, granted, I don't look what most people think 45 looks like. I'm fortunate to come from a family of fairly young-looking people, so I do have genetics on my side a little. I also have better science on my side than my parents and grandparents did. Because of that, I think many of us in my age group do look younger at 45 than our parents probably did. I mean, we have sunscreen now that will actually keep you from getting a sunburn (unless you're in Jamaica, but that's another story).
Why the fascination with youth? It pains me to see women like Joan Rivers and Priscilla Presley go under the knife so many times they look freakish. What's wrong with owning those wrinkles, like Helen Mirren or Judi Dench or Maggie Smith? The Dowager Countess would look ridiculous if she were all young and smooth-faced.
I have to admit, when I had my last birthday, I did have a little bit of a quandary. It was like, "oh shit, I'm 45, I guess I have to start acting like an adult now." This lasted all of about a week, if that long. I already gave up ultra-short skirts and bikinis awhile back (although it nearly killed me to admit I just wasn't shaped properly for them anymore), but I ain't turning in my collection of skulls, or my quirky t-shirts, or my crazy shoes, or my outrageous eyeglasses. Nope. Not happening. I may be getting older, but I still plan on having fun, even when my hair goes all gray. Heck, when that happens, I may just shave my head and wear turbans all the time.
Till next time --- be proud of your age. Namaste.
Monday, January 21, 2013
Come on, people now. . .
Smile on your brother, everybody get together, try to love one another right now.
How hard is that, really? Well, it certainly isn't EASY or there wouldn't be so many people struggling with it, or songs sung about it,or books written about it. It's not easy. That's why you have to try.
Yeah, I know, some of you are shaking your heads at me, calling me a commie pinko leftist hippie or something similar, but I am none of those. (Okay, maybe a little bit hippie.) I'm just a human being, like you. And lately, I've been giving this concept of loving everybody a lot of thought. We have a limited time on this earth, and I don't know about you, but I don't want to waste time being angry or hating anyone.
I'm not talking about being BFFs with everybody. I'm not talking about insisting the sun is out when it's obvious it's raining. I'm talking about not bearing grudges or resentment over things that don't matter. Because really, guess who feels it most when you hold a grudge? YOU. And those things that do matter? Don't hold grudges. Talk about it instead, then let it go, or else be dragged. Maybe you'll come to a solution, maybe you won't, but at least you will have tried, and that's all you can do.
And then there's forgiveness, a concept too many people don't seem to fully understand. Heck, I'm not sure I understand it altogether myself, if you want to know the truth. But here's what I think: forgiveness has to do with letting go of your own destructive feelings. It doesn't mean you have to let the person who hurt you back into your good graces if you don't want to. I mean, let's face it - there are good and valid reasons why some relationships shouldn't be repaired, but there's no reason for you to harbor bitterness over it for the rest of your life. Because I'll guarantee you, the other person doesn't care.
I have a large circle of friends who all have varied opinions on different issues. They're not my friends because we agree on everything - trust me, we don't. Even a few of my oldest, closest friends have opinions spectacularly opposite of mine. They're my friends because we bonded over something that was way more important than who we voted for in the last election. If I based friendships on political opinions . . . well, that would just be a complete fiasco, wouldn't it?
I know sometimes it's hard to love humanity, but I think there are more reasons to love it than not. You'll find them if you give it a good honest look.
Till next time --- quit your meanness and go to lovin' folks.
How hard is that, really? Well, it certainly isn't EASY or there wouldn't be so many people struggling with it, or songs sung about it,or books written about it. It's not easy. That's why you have to try.
Yeah, I know, some of you are shaking your heads at me, calling me a commie pinko leftist hippie or something similar, but I am none of those. (Okay, maybe a little bit hippie.) I'm just a human being, like you. And lately, I've been giving this concept of loving everybody a lot of thought. We have a limited time on this earth, and I don't know about you, but I don't want to waste time being angry or hating anyone.
I'm not talking about being BFFs with everybody. I'm not talking about insisting the sun is out when it's obvious it's raining. I'm talking about not bearing grudges or resentment over things that don't matter. Because really, guess who feels it most when you hold a grudge? YOU. And those things that do matter? Don't hold grudges. Talk about it instead, then let it go, or else be dragged. Maybe you'll come to a solution, maybe you won't, but at least you will have tried, and that's all you can do.
And then there's forgiveness, a concept too many people don't seem to fully understand. Heck, I'm not sure I understand it altogether myself, if you want to know the truth. But here's what I think: forgiveness has to do with letting go of your own destructive feelings. It doesn't mean you have to let the person who hurt you back into your good graces if you don't want to. I mean, let's face it - there are good and valid reasons why some relationships shouldn't be repaired, but there's no reason for you to harbor bitterness over it for the rest of your life. Because I'll guarantee you, the other person doesn't care.
I have a large circle of friends who all have varied opinions on different issues. They're not my friends because we agree on everything - trust me, we don't. Even a few of my oldest, closest friends have opinions spectacularly opposite of mine. They're my friends because we bonded over something that was way more important than who we voted for in the last election. If I based friendships on political opinions . . . well, that would just be a complete fiasco, wouldn't it?
I know sometimes it's hard to love humanity, but I think there are more reasons to love it than not. You'll find them if you give it a good honest look.
Till next time --- quit your meanness and go to lovin' folks.
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