Fake is Futile! plus funny family stories

Dear Reader,

I'm going to tell you a little secret, and it is this:  no matter where life leads you, you always have the choice to be happy. Moreover, I'm going to tell you another little secret:  happiness isn't always the right choice. I think we have an obsession with having a good time, trying to have a good time, appearing to have a good time, and that's a little whack. If you try to be present, (rather than trying to have a good time), you'll ultimately feel more at peace. 

What do I mean by that? 

Well, as with adrenaline before a performance, your body adjusts to suit the situation. You have inert responses to your environment, and you perform differently as a result. Adrenaline is a natural response to high-stress situations, but ultimately gives you super powers. 

That's right, stress gives you super powers.

Now there have been times when I've kicked myself for not getting out of bed with urgency, or not getting my butt to that class, or eating one-too-many pieces of cheesecake (this is an ultimate low, next to too many golden gaytimes), and at the end of the day, I realize that these troughs are combatted with a series of highs too. I'm like a rollercoaster. That makes me exciting.

The Alternative

When going through a depressive slump, I think we also have the perpetual impetus to choose sadness. Choose distress, anxiety, languish at every turn. When in this mood, I remember choosing sadness simply because I wanted to feel sad for longer. When an opportunity passed in which I could choose happiness, guess what I chose?

I want to stress that grabbing these opportunities - to be sad, to be happy, to be stressed, or whatever it may be - is living a well-balanced lifestyle. Allowing yourself to feel sad (happy, stressed, whatever) when the situation calls for it means you're listening to your surroundings and responding in real time. So you're happy, and a sad song starts playing. Don't turn it off, belt it out! When you're sad but then you see a puppy trying to catch his own tail, smile, for God's sakes. And when you're about to give a presentation to your supervisors, allow the adrenaline to guide you. It's all okay. It's all necessary. It's all good.

How many of you felt you've met someone fake in your life? They constantly deny themselves the range of their full human emotion, just to come across as "put-together" or "happy" or, God forbid, "intelligent".

By denying yourself the capacity to expand your emotional intelligence, you are not achieving a thing. This is my perspective; you are welcome to disagree. Maybe even get angry? I don't know. I won't deny you that opportunity. And likewise, I will be glad if you get angry. Say YES to your emotions!

Latest News on the London Streets

I've been a ball of stress lately, and it might be heavily tied to the fact that my parents arrived in London yesterday (to celebrate my 25th :0). As with most things, they're "here to see me" and are "fine with whatever" and then I say, "great, I've planned to go to this cafe that's renowned for their full English breakfasts" and my pops is like, "10 minute walk? Anything closer? I just want a bowl of fruit."

Sigh.

I'm not going to tell Dad to be complacent, but I am going to take him to the cafe anyway. All of a sudden it's "wow, this is really good" followed by plates licked clean. I've done my daughterly duty. 

My parents are amazing in the fact that they truly are yin and yan. As my father needs a 2hr nap to rejuvenate, my mother needs a trip to mass, confession, exposition to the Blessed Sacrament, oh and there's another mass scheduled, might as well. As my father talks fencing and gardens with Rick, my mother and I are literally laughing at our own little joke at the opposite corners of the table.  

Oh goodness me, I love my parents. As we're sitting in their hotel room, posing on the bed as my dad puts on the camera's timer, I'm reminded of so many times when he finds this important; that we all gather and get photographed, no one must be missing from the photo. Even when at a restaurant, he places the timer on and sets the camera on a counter somewhere, denying the waiter's offers to take the photo. The photos come out sub-par, with weird lighting adjustments, awkward angles, and my dad's signature grimace of a smile. He is a one-in-a-bajillion man, cranky pants and all. 

When the night is through, my ma tries to gift me their unopened jar of mixed nuts. Of course pops starts eating them voraciously as though this would be his last opportunity to eat on this earth.

Legend.

Well, after a short consultation with Ma via text, they like Rick because "he puts up with us and laughs at our corny remarks". Turns out I'll have to be the discerning one after all. Parents are useless on this front. 

I'll be accepting pre-birthday treats, pressies and messages from here on out. 25 is a doozy. 

Ciao