Get the Best of Being Miserable

Misery is the cold wind that keeps the covers up too long, the flow of tears dripping on your broken heart. It lurks through the lives of the rich and the poor. Moving slowly, creeping and crawling to the weak and unsuspecting. The battle is not a hard one. It usually succeeds with silent attacks, and stays beyond the treaty. Consuming, depressing, and addicting it feeds on us. The chefs that prepare this hearty feast are me, you, him, and her.

Her life is perfect because she was born with a silver spoon in her mouth, and I with a tarnished one stuck to my nose. He has a dream house, car, and wife in his perfect life, but mine is shrouded with misfortune. My dreams will never come true. You can’t tell me they will, and yours won’t come true either. We can’t rely on anything because it never works as intended. Take marriage for instance, it fail 50 % of the time. What’s the point?

The bottom line of it is, that silver-spooned girl got shipped around to boarding schools, and never really saw her parents or felt their love. That guy living the perfect life, well, his perfect wife is having an affair, and he unknowingly foots the bill. Oh, and about dreams not coming true, just ask Martin Luther King Jr., Nancy Kerrigan, or Walt Disney what they think, and I am sure you will find other opinions. Look at the marital statistic upside down; that means 50% of marriages succeed.

As you can see, I used extreme examples. He or she may have a wonderful life, but he or she may have worked hard to achieve it.

Don’t sweat the small stuff, don’t judge a book by its cover, and sure maybe the grass is always greener. Can I throw anymore clichés at you to prove my point? Sweating less saves shirts, you might actually read a fantastic book, and maybe your grass just needs a little fertilizer.
The next time you find yourself plagued with poor me syndrome, take three steps back. Inhale for five seconds, and think (or say out loud depending where you are), "such is the way things are." Then exhale for five seconds; do this three times (it may require 9, 12, or 15 times in extreme cases).You should notice that each time you will say it a little slower; a little calmer. Now you will subconsciously accept that there is nothing you can do to reverse the situation, and handle it accordingly, maybe even pleasantly.

As soon as possible, grab a piece of paper and a pen (if you’re in the middle of a battle with the produce manager or your boss, this can wait until you get home). Write down five positive things you have in your life currently. EVERYONE has them! These items can be as small your dog that excitedly greets you at the door every night, to your health having never failed you. I’m willing to bet that once you get going, you will fill an entire page. Once this is done, the next time you encounter those gifts, they will be more meaningful, last a few minutes longer, and become your security.

The next step is to be genuinely happy for other people! He gets a promotion; assume he deserves it. She gets engaged; assume she is marrying for love. This world is stuffed with gigantic, yet sensitive egos, which love a little stroke every now and again. Come on…admit it…yours does too. Well, you get what you give. If you haven’t called them, then why should they have called you?

Listen to your friends, remember important events in their lives, and then TELL them how happy you are for them, or that you just happened to be thinking of them. Run through the open doors of sincere love and valued friendship; slam the doors to accidently losing touch and unnecessary loneliness.

Quick tips to banish misery:

Abolish negative thoughts.
Never say can’t; that’s just code for won’t.
Don’t take yourself so seriously.
Search for positive quotes that motivate you, and post them wherever you can see them.
Exercise! It releases natural happy chemicals, called endorphins.
Surround yourself with positive people; avoid becoming misery’s company.
Smile at him, her, and everyone!
Build a bridge and get over it! (Sometimes we need a little tough love. You are the enforcer. )

Please keep in mind these are not techniques for severe or clinical depression. Only a doctor can be the judge of that course of treatment. However, in combination with the doctor’s orders, these tips can certainly boost your success.

Follow these rules, and I promise you, you will see a difference. Life will seem easier, color will be brighter, and the cool crisp wind will make you sit up and breathe deeper ready for a new day.

Highly Recommended.....

Spoiler warning....I do talk about some things in the book below, so if you have read it, read on, if not, maybe come back after you have. It's an amazing book!

My reaction to “When the Emperor was Devine” leaves me with more questions than anything else. To start, I picked up the book with the intention of reading a little every night. After the first 5 pages, I knew that wasn’t going to be the case. Three hours later I was putting it back down, finished, and sat for 5 minutes in silence and awe. I never knew. How could I have not known these things happened within the walls of our own country whose very foundation was built for freedom? How could these actions have happened in direct violation of almost every section of our own “Bill of Rights” that was signed 253 years earlier? Habeas Corpus anyone? I couldn’t help but to peak around at some of the statistics surrounding these camps and found some numbers; 120,000 Japanese descendents, some citizens and some not taken with what they could carry and forced to live in inhumane camps on U.S. soil. Imagine what would have happened in this country if September 12th, 2001, our government rounded up all the Middle Eastern members of our communities and placed them in those barracks. It would have been mayhem!
One of the main themes I saw was fear. Fear that does not discriminate any race, culture, or religion. The fear that there is imminent danger; the fear for life. America was afraid; it had never seen such an attack. They were terrified of a repeat or worse. The Japanese (in America) were scared to be themselves. Scared to practice their religion, have “slanted eyes” that could not be hidden and scared to die for crimes they did not commit. Our soldiers were scared they would be the next to lie bleeding in a field, watch their comrades die and never be able to return to American soil. If we take away sides (of the War), reasons, morals, race, religion and belief, we have 2 groups of people directly affected. We have our American POW’s (and soldiers) sent to fight a heroic battle. They laid on cots, floors, or maybe even nothing for days, months, years. They prayed to God to return home, to stay alive, and to have peace. Then we have the Japanese members sent to these camps that lay on iron cots in barracks for days, months, years. They prayed to God to return home, to stay alive, and to have peace. Then their prayers are answered. They go home. Parades ensued for our troops (and rightfully so, please note, that I believe in harming no one and am in no way, shape or form underplaying the torture that POW’s and other service men endured), welcome arms, and the safety of American grounds. The members of the “internment camps” sent home, the ones who had them left. What remained for them? FEAR. Fear that their house would be burned while they slept, fear that they would never have a job and fear that life was over even though they still took breath.
Our world has committed this act before (and I’m sure known to us or not it is still done in parts of this sorted world). We have seen it in Germany with the mass murdering of the Jews, in the witch hunts throughout Europe and the early colonies (most famously Salem, MA), and as far back as enslaving the Hebrews in Egypt. It is part of our history, but it is stories like this that have inspired me to become an attorney. To be the voice for the people who don’t have one in a forum that was otherwise unavailable to them be they black, white, Japanese, Dutch, Islam, Christian, housewives, business men, soldiers, children, or animals. We can never stand up and be a great nation if we become what we fight against or react on fear alone.

I've been a bad girl....

I have not been posting much, and I am missing it! I hope you have enjoyed what I have been able to come up with. Thanks for your patience. Let's see, with me, there is tons of homework. Then there's running back and forth to the bus stop, which I know doesn't sound very hard, but it really is. I spend more time waiting for the bus than anything else. Then Haley gets off the bus with her little friend Olivia. Separating these two is like separating Cheech and Chong. (Sorry, first thing that came to my mind, I don't even know if I spelled it right. I've never actually seen one of their movies.) Haley has homework now which is great fun. What the hell happened to simple things? I hope with all these weird ways of teaching we end up with a better generation than whats running us now. I will not go political. OK, just one thing.....WHAT THE HELL?

So, I hope these thoughts are coming out in some form of semblance because I am very tired, and have no idea what I'm talking about. I guess that's a warning if you want to keep reading. I have two papers due this week, so I may jump by the end of the week. I think I may have started one, I'll have to check into that. The Golden Girls always make me feel better, and they are right now. I really can't help myself, I just friggin love this show!!!!!! Even Andy was standing in the bedroom doorway (after saying he was going to bed because they weren't funny), and giggled for about 10 minutes before I busted him watching. Too funny. Wow, I feel like I am just typing and I don't even know what I was talking about the sentence before. No really, I don't. I am that tired, and really need to go to bed, but my mind won't shut up so now you have to hear all about it. Maybe it will help me sleep if it all comes out.

I wish I could find a magic lantern, similar to Aladdin's, so I could solve a few problems around here, and I don't just mean in my house. I mean I would use at least one of the wishes to help the world as a whole. Shouldn't that count for something? A lucky stroke maybe?

So McElwain family challenge update....it's been a while. Andy is down 17lbs, looking good Baby! Roxy (the dog) was down 3lbs, but she was desperate last week, and got into the trash one too many times, and gained a half a pound. I weigh out in the morning, so I can update that then. It will give me a reason to post, well maybe, if it's good news, LOL. I don't know how though, unless Red Bull really has made me a speed freak and the running around like a chicken with it's head cut off is working (why do we say that? It doesn't paint a very pretty picture...). We shall see I suppose.

Okey dokey, well I'm off to watch G.G. and laugh some more calories off. I have been quite negative lately, so I will end on a positive note because I need to get back into that, and learn how to relax.....

"Stress is nothing more than a socially acceptable form of mental illness." ~Richard Carlson
Quote from www.quotegarden.com

Is that true?

I warn you, I was too tired to re-read this, so I have no idea what it says. I will bless you with a spell check as not to annoy the people like me who those sort of things annoy. Peace.

Walden Pond (Concord, MA)

“I went to the woods to live deliberately, to front only the essential facts of life. And see if I could not learn what it had to teach. And not, when I came to die, discover that I had not lived.” This may be Henry David Thoreau’s inspiration for coming here, but I went to the woods in flip flops, and then got lost with my two year old daughter in tow. As we went deeper and deeper through the roads less traveled, I still didn’t know where we were going, but I stopped wondering or even caring.
Walden Pond itself is a still, calm openness. A tranquil intermission amidst a world in constant battle with Father Time; protected in a bubble of woods that are thick enough to block out the sounds of trucks, sirens, and horns. It is open to guests all year to enjoy picnicking, hiking, swimming, canoeing, and cross-country skiing. Imagine this hidden treasure less than 20 miles out of Boston, right off Rt. 2, but what you experience is innocence, peace, and time. What water park can offer that with parking at just $5 a day?
On the path in front of you are thousands of footprints, each one erasing the last, but in the forbidden nature to the right and left are woods and banks that haven’t been impeded by a heavy foot or disturbed by shoe treads in hundreds of years. Trees have fallen, yet no one knows if they made a sound. A couple of small beaches line the pond, and I noticed the remnants of a sandcastle from a very talented upcoming builder that included half a mote and a guest house in the back. Drifting mid-pond is a lone fisherman in his canoe with his lure cast, and patiently waiting for a tug. An older couple strolls by holding hands, talking, laughing, enjoying the finer side of life, and each other. Passing faces greet you with a friendly smile. The paths wind and turn and every new bend brings a new image of light, color, and perspective. With the rest of the world silenced, you are free to hear the birds chirping, chipmunks scurrying, and distant laughter as children create the purest memories.
The biggest draw to this sight is the exact location in which Thoreau spent his time. A pile of rocks sits beside the buried foundation on which Thoreau’s one room cabin stood. People have left painted rocks, written notes on them (One read, “In memory of the truth that rests inside you, Thank you.”), and there in the middle of the rubble lay an old leather bound book which was now only the tattered and worn cover and the unattached bindings. “Go thou my incense upward from this hearth” reads the stone where his chimney had smoked 163 years earlier, and you could almost feel his spirit whirl as the wind managed to slip through the thick wood and pass by the nape of your neck.
Before realizing that we had been out there for hours, and my daughter had given up on walking, I stood where his front door had been and saw what he saw upon waking in the morning, “Simplicity! Simplicity! Simplicity!” Then as I drove back onto to the bustling Rt. 2 and someone was nice enough to cut me off, I wondered if I should just turn around and go back in.

Memories....

Within minutes of my mom dropping me off for the night, my Gramps and I were out the door to get some Brigham’s Mint Chocolate Chip Ice Cream and him a Vanilla Frappe (always vanilla!). We would take the dog to Oakley Country Club to run around and chase the squirrels. On the way home, my task was always to get the jimmies that had fallen off my ice cream unstuck from the leather seat before he saw them (he has a thing for clean vehicles). It was about 7pm, so that meant off to “bed” for Gramps, a.k.a. he would watch a game if it’s on, but Court TV if there wasn’t; all the while the dog at the bottom of the bed. When you’re little, nothing beat jumping onto the bed with a 250lb 6’3” man and wrestling around knowing he was the gentlest giant. It always started the same, we’d wrestle and then he would sing, “The three of us, the three of us, It’s a good thing there isn’t anymoooooooore of us!” in his big booming voice. Me, him and the dog, that’s all that mattered to him at that moment. Then when he’d get tired he would turn serious. “You know, Jackie, I want you to always remember what side of the family your bread is buttered on; who has always taken care of you.” I always responded the same, “I know Grampa.” And I did, he wasn’t being mean, he was being honest. Then he would politely kick me out of the room. On my way out I was sure to grab my Grandmother’s make-up kit, combs, brushes, and hairspray. It was makeover time for Grammie! The chair she sat in by the fireplace was perfect, I fit right behind it. She read her millionth book and sipped her wine as I combed, teased, and sprayed enough hairspray in to seal cement (She always managed to get a hair appointment the next day). I would put on her blush, eye shadow, and lipstick; layer after layer after layer, she never missed a sentence in her book. We didn’t talk much, we didn’t have to. That was our time and then it was bed time. In other words, my time to hide so I didn’t have to go to bed! I remember one night it took her a half hour to find me. I was getting better at hiding, in the shower I sat for what seemed like forever, but a half hour passed bed time none the less. After that off I went, you don’t argue with Grandma, you won’t win, but I never had trouble falling asleep.

The look girls wait a lifetime for...

Very handsom Mr. Nick and Lil' Miss Ashley

My (very short and to the point) VMA Review

In the way of performers...

Britney Spears...I know she didn't, but she just should have!

Rihanna...simply phenomenal!!! Both performances, sexy yet classy.....very good!!!

Kid Rock...I love him. I love his voice, his attitude (but don't get me wrong - he would make and awful husband, but to grab a beer with...hell ya!!!)

Jonas Brothers...I just feel awkward, they are like 12. They put on a good show? (I was just thankful they kept Miley Cyrus to a minimum!!)

Paramore....they were good. The lead singer is cute! Brave girl to wear bright yellow pants, but at least they weren't spandex!

Katy Perry...she is just Adorable! I love her spirit and that as he made her own outfit from finds at a thrift store.

Christina Aguilera...WORST OF THE NIGHT! She looked awful, you could tell she was
lip synching, and shiny spandex....and no effort....I seriously don't know why
she isn't being compared to Britney from last year....gross!!!!!!!

Pink...BEST OF THE NIGHT!!!!!!!! She was FABULOUS and FIERCE!! She is my alter ego, if I could only find a way to set that free...hmmmmmmmmm. BEST BEST BEST!!!!!!!!!!

I know there were more, but that's all I can remember.......