great read: “I Don’t Know What’s Best for You”

These are not my feet. I am not on vacation.
These are not my feet. I am not on vacation.

Courtney Carver of the minimalist blog Be More With Less recently had a lovely post titled “I Don’t Know What’s Best for You.” It really struck a chord.

I (like a lot of people, I’m guessing) was not taught to trust my own judgment or intuition as a child. Growing up in a hyper-conservative Christian environment, my gut instincts were “bad” and “sinful” and could not be trusted. Thankfully, there were plenty of straight white dudes I was taught to trust instead: my pastor, the principal at my evangelical Christian school, my dad, etc.

This mindset of “other people know what’s best for you” followed me well into adulthood. To some extent, that’s necessary–I wouldn’t presume to know more about my car than an actual mechanic, or try to DIY a colonoscopy. But I shouldn’t be afraid to question the experts, especially if my gut says they’re wrong.

Relying on authority figures to tell me how to live my life–from therapists to the woman who cuts my hair–just isn’t so helpful anymore. It’s a crutch. It became a habit born out of the discomfort of indecision and ambiguity. It’s really hard not to know the answer, not to know what to do next, to feel out of control and lost and alone. Solution? Find someone to tell me how to live my life! (No wonder cults are so appealing.)

That’s why Courtney Carver’s post was so freaking refreshing. SO RARELY do people actually say “I don’t know what you should do. Trust your gut. What do YOU think you should do?” I’m totally guilty of this–I’ve been more than happy to dish out unsolicited advice about just about anything. (Working on it.)

Instead of rushing to find someone to tell me what to do, hopefully I can do things like take time for meditation/mindfulness, or journal, or just give myself permission not to make a decision yet. It’s OK to not know the answer or next step. Hopefully, in time, it will come. ❤



Where my basic bitchez at?


Confession: I am listening to Dolly Parton and reading a Harlequin romance novel about a librarian titled Love Overdue.


(Yes, moooost of my blog post ideas of late are just retreads of the same theme: “OMG I just realized I can stop hating XYZ and repressing myself and just like what I like and stop trying to be a hipster! MIND BLOWN!” Yes, this is another in that vein. I WARNED YOU.)

You know what else I like, other than cheeseball books and the Gilmore Girls soundtrack? PUMPKIN SPICE LATTES. WEARING FLUFFY SLIPPERS. GREY’S ANATOMY. YOU’VE GOT MAIL. LIFETIME MOVIES. TOP 40 CHRISTMAS SONGS.*

All of which makes me want to stab myself in the face.

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how to be less judgmental

(tldr I WISH I KNEW.)

feeling judgmental

I’m naturally a pretty judgmental person. But sometimes I hate that. I wish I were a Carefree Girl (maybe a cousin of the cool girl?):

Cool Girls never get angry; they only smile in a chagrined, loving manner and let their men do whatever they want. Go ahead, shit on me, I don’t mind, I’m the Cool Girl…[Cool Girl] doesn’t ever complain.

Carefree Girl Woman has windswept hair and tilts her chin to the sky to blow out a puff of weed smoke and drawls in a Matthew McConaughey surfer voice, “You do you, man! Whatevs! It’s all good!”

That is so not me.

I went to a new book club last night and met someone who raised all my stingy judgmental hackles. A huge fangirl of the chosen book and its author, she disagreed with anyone who was less than complimentary. I made a comment I thought was a neutral observation, and she took it as a criticism she had to correct (based on her assumption that she read more YA than I do). Judgy thoughts sprang up:

Ohhh, so you’re 22 and just graduated from an expensive women’s college? RIGHT. Call me when you have some actual real-life experience.

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rumi: the guesthouse


Turns out Rumi was one cool cat. Evidence: this poem my therapist read me. (Basically everything good in my life comes from my therapist. BOW DOWN, BITCHEZ!)

(Sadly my therapist is not Beyoncé.)

Anyway, take it away, ole Roomz:

The Guest House

This being human is a guest house.
Every morning a new arrival.

A joy, a depression, a meanness,
some momentary awareness comes
as an unexpected visitor.

Welcome and entertain them all!
Even if they are a crowd of sorrows,
who violently sweep your house
empty of its furniture,
still, treat each guest honorably.
He may be clearing you out
for some new delight.

The dark thought, the shame, the malice.
meet them at the door laughing and invite them in.

Be grateful for whatever comes.
because each has been sent
as a guide from beyond.

– – –

Sigh. Thanks for being a tough chewy bite of gristle, fall 2016.


breakup survival kit

everything you need to survive a breakup

Everything you I need, post-breakup. Don your pajamas, close the curtains, and GIT READY 2 WALLOW with the help of…

Clarissa Explains It All

Streaming on Hulu and oddly calming. Remember when life was simple and all your problems were resolved by dinnertime? AND MORE IMPORTANTLY everyone wore floral dresses over polka-dot leggings and neon sideways baseball caps? Inspires fashion experimentation and harebrained schemes designed to torment nonexistent little brother! Plus the theme song is just barely on the “cheesy and endearing” side of annoying. YAY ’90s. (Possible substitutions: Hannah Montana or Lizzy McGuire, although those are untested by our researchers. Proceed with caution.)

Postmates (or Seamless or whatever food delivery)

For sustenance. Do not get addicted. Optional: listening to “All By Myself,” Bridget Jones-style, while you creepily track your delivery person’s progress on the app before meeting them in the driveway wearing your slippers.

Fresh flowers

They don’t have to be fancy. Buy cheap ones at the grocery store. Put them in a vase. Bam, someone loves you! STILL COUNTS IF IT’S YOU.

An art project

To do while you binge-watch Clarissa Explains It All. Recommended: decoupaging random wooden furniture or making a rag rug out of old sheets.

Special Effects hair dye

For personal reinvention. Recommended: Cupcake Pink.

Obvious grocery necessities

Wine, kleenex, gummi worms, chips.


Your trashiest, most guilt-inducing comfort read (Mine is Christian romance novels. As Trina asked, “So it’s after they get married?” No, there is no sex AT ALL. It’s just emotional porn!) slash viewing material. I am currently on an Olson twins movie kick and, upon discovering you can get FOUR of their critically acclaimed films together on DVD for a mere $10, have no intention of slowing down.

Your pet

Intuitively knows when to hop on your lap and start purring comfortingly. Never gets tired of hearing about your breakup. Good for reminders that you Are Not Alone in the World before you’ve mustered the strength to resume usual routines of hygiene and socialization.

With the help of this survival kit, someday you will be ready to bathe again and emerge from your home fully dressed and ready to face the world. ❤

tina turner what's love got to do with it