Anticipation Anxiety

For as long as I can remember I’ve had anticipation anxiety resulting in disastrous disappointment. I would get excited about a birthday party, school play or family vacation. Only to be let down. Now, these weren’t awful occasions, it’s just that the real thing never achieved the glorious heights my imagination had projected. The no longer hopeful me would sit poolside with her big fat pouty lip hanging out. Harumfing out my candles. And taking a curtain call with tears in my eyes. Now, looking back, I can see just how much I was missing by being a disappointed Dolly. Hindsight is 20/20, at least that’s what they say. But I think my mind’s eye is more like 50/20 and maybe even clairvoyant.

Now, I am not saying I am a psychic…well, at least not entirely. There are gaps of missing information, certain facts I don’t posses. I mean c’mon! How, could I know what I don’t know…ya know? But I am learning how to logically and clinically project possible outcomes for each experience, both new and familiar. Since, I know how I react to knowing; how the knowledge breeds expectation. I’ve altered my approach. Lately, I’ve been trying to keep myself in the dark. Flying without strict plans toward an anticipated end goal. Going with the flow. Hubby’s not a big fan of No Plan, but BFF’s easy going enthusiasm compensates for that. Also, Hubby’s plans typically involve food, a threatening resurgence of the Commish and walking Jilly, each of these situations arise daily. They aren’t much to anticipate, not to say they aren’t Amazing! (Oh, I hope the Commish isn’t reading this) Fun, however…planning straight up, no holes barred fun, makes me anxious. There in lies the rub. I am so focused on making each outing a memorable and momentous one, I am missing the mini-wins and letting my mega-mind interrupt.

Anxiety has become a clinical affliction. The heart pounding, chest tightening, pressured feeling that waves over the body. A dizzy, darkness closing in, forcing us to self-medicate. Anticipating the worst. Hey! Most things at their worst are still good, maybe even great. What me worry? I know I do. But, everyday I remind myself that all we have is today. I breathe deeply through yoga poses. I stretch and challenge myself. I sing. I snuggle Boots and the Bean. I kiss the Commish- against my better judgement. And I laugh, hard. Please remember that just because something is not what you hoped, dreamed and planned doesn’t mean it’s not perfect. That goes for me too. Until I practice what I blog, I’ll wish on all the stars for inner peace. HA! The closest I’ve come to peace is acceptance. But I’m pretty sure that’s the first step.

Anticipation Anxiety

20 Things Everyone Should Know About A Smile:)

1. People take them very seriously.

2. Nobody thinks you’re listening cuz you look happy.  And apparently happy people don’t listen.

3. Endorphins baby. I finally get what Carrie Fisher means in Drop Dead Fred.

4. There are songs written about them that don’t make you feel like smiling.

5. Sometimes when a smile feels furthest away we can’t help but laugh.

6.  There are studies that exist proving it’s fun.

7.  Why the heck wouldn’t ya?

8.  If smiles were a colour they would be that bright orange flicker behind closed eyes on a sunny day.

9. Smiles are used by both Heroes and Villains.

10. Secret smiles can be dangerous.

11. A dog wags it’s tail and a cat purrs. I think they are trying to communicate something and it sounds smiley.

12. Pictures are always better with a smile.

13. We don’t really have to grin and bear it. Sometimes it’s okay to cry.

14. It’s a great gift for anyone, anytime.

15.  Smashed, broken and crooked a smile always works.

16. It stands to reason that stretching and strengthening the face would be just as important as the rump.

17. You’re never fully dressed without one.

18. They are an international language.

19. It is a frown upside down.

20. They are contagious and should be spread.

Hope you find many, many times to smile today.

~With a wink and a smile.


20 Things Everyone Should Know About A Smile:)

I’m a Dog Person Who’s More Like a Cat

After a full day of laundry I realized I had cleaned out the lint trap 5 times. That doesn’t include the many times I cleaned out the ceiling vent trap and/or vacuumed the screens. The fur could’ve been crocheted into one of those creepy life-sized fur dolls. Which I will say again is creepy and every-time I see one makes me itchy. This borderline OC-De-furing did however spark the thought. Living with Hubby, Jilly and Lucy means dealing with many hair-brained personality types. How do I fit into this family puzzle? Who am I?

Cats rule and dogs drool. That statement is both opinion and fact, tough to argue against. The kitty in me loves everything on my terms. A big fan of falling asleep in a sun spot. Stretching. The high standard to which they primp themselves takes dedication and constant maintenance. The puss really knows how to spend time whiling away the hours. Plus they can tuck themselves into hidden nooks for some much-needed alone time. On the other hand it’s a Dog’s life. Everything about Jilly drives me equal parts crazy and deeper in love with her. Our shared enthusiasm for seeing people we love. The way we both hate the sharp stinging rain. The way we can both fall asleep anywhere, anytime if conditions are right…and even when they’re not. Then there is our shared enthusiasm for solving a mystery, though her mysteries typically deal with things quite low to the ground. Somehow, though neither seems like a perfect fit.

Throughout my life I have had people try to figure me out. Teachers, babysitters, boyfriends and bosses, though none of them ever wanted to put the effort forward to actually get to know me. Sure, There are kitty and puppy parts for sure, but there is also meerkat, lemur, pig, monkey, badger and baby hippopotamus. But, no one was interested in how all these animals fit together. Hubby was one of the first people, besides my ‘Rents who wanted me to be all the beasts that are a part of me. Who I am doesn’t scare him, or make him want to change me into something else. Adopting bravery as a mantra. I stopped hiding myselves. As soon as that happened, I started attracting other hybrids. People who were figuring out that being a little bit of the things they love was better than being a lot of something they didn’t. So, my chimera, hippocamp, griffin, and mermaid friends, we are more than the sum of our parts. Even if some people don’t believe we exist.

I’m a Dog Person Who’s More Like a Cat

Happy is as Happy Does

Alone on the streetcar last night, I initiated conversation with the lovely lady driver. Our conversation was short but stimulating. We had started talking about the weather, innocuous enough. Then how global warming was throwing the whole world out of whack. How difficult it was to regulate yourself when the world around us was in such chaos. Then she confessed something to me, in the way one can only confess something to a stranger. She wasn’t happy. She could recall how happy her Grandmother had been and that she worried she would never be that happy. This short conversation lingered with me long after I had gotten off the streetcar and trudged the last few drippy feet to my door. Turning my key and closing the door behind me I realized what it was that had worked me up. She was so quick to admit she wasn’t happy. It seems like most people I know feel the same and that makes me unhappy.

Happiness is intangible. It cannot be held, except in the form of a baby bunny. It cannot be trapped. Most people expect happiness in bunches and typically it clusters together, but you can’t stock pile it or save it for later. Happiness has to be used right away. The concept of Happiness was patented by Hallmark at the same time as Valentine’s and Secretary’s Days. That’s not to say that happiness doesn’t exist. It does. There is a physiological chemical reaction that occurs within the brain, heart and body when we are “happy”. But it isn’t that dream job, the ideal apartment or the perfect partner that makes us happy. Striving for that and expecting happiness to follow limits your capacity for the experiences that bring true Happiness. Happiness is the pink sky before the sun sets. It’s also that special smell your pets have, which is sometimes kinda yucky. The spinning contest you have with your BFF. It’s way you feel waking up in Sunday morning without an alarm. These little things are where we should focus our search for happiness.

People we are fighting too hard for happiness. Our expectation for fiscal happiness is greater than any other time in history. Never before have there been 25-year-old billionaires. Which can also create unhappiness, as being a 30-year-old $50 dollar-naire those standards seem impossible, and yet somehow expected. Our consumer driven North American market tempts us to seek happiness in the things we buy. The car we drive. But it’s not. Those are just things. Working towards being happy can be a full-time job. But what I hope is that even just once a day, for just a few minutes the people I love were happy. Taking tiny baby steps towards remembering Happiness is attainable if you are willing to let yourself be happy. As for my lovely lady streetcar driver, I hope she found a few moments of happiness in our conversation, but knowing the TTC, she probably didn’t.

Happy is as Happy Does

Help! They are Lost in the Archives

While trying to switch over my blog from one platform to the next I am in the techno process of figuring this twitchy glitch out.  Already, I have lost a year’s worth of FB likes and Tweets, Retweets and Favourites… though the good vibes and great feelings will live on in me.

So, for now WordPress Dearies.  Try this on for size.  Instead of uploading them one by one…This link houses my first year of published writing.  Minus a few for long weekends and mental health days.  I hope you love them just as much the second time around. Mwah! – Melicious Manners.

Help! They are Lost in the Archives

The Soap Dish that Changed Everything

Okay, okay, so this is gonna sound crazy, but it’s a true story. Two Novembers ago I found myself shopping for no reason in a store that was way too expensive. Sometimes the urge to soothe the self-loathing Sundays with retail therapy overtakes and I am powerless against her demands. So, recognizing I wasn’t purchasing something of purpose, I was merely filling the gap, I took it down a notch. After perusing the mounted deer head painted white and the ironically scratchy sweaters, I stumbled across a teeny $12 motivational soap dish. Huh, it was the cheapest thing in the whole store so I bought it. Proudly purchasing my soap dish I was happy also extremely happy I had put make-up on and was wearing my vintage glasses since unwittingly, I’d landed smack-bang in hipster haven. Swinging my brown paper bag out of this teeny boutique, I remember forgetting what I’d even bought until I unwrapped it at home. A motivational moment each time I wash my hands. A single solitary action and meditation matched in the single serving size of washing your hands. Didn’t seem like anything so special, until I realized it was.

Having a motto, a plan, a strategy, a safe word. Affirming yourself. Every self help Schmoe hosting a weekend seminar is spewing catch phrases to live happily. People are begging to be happy. People are blogging to be happy. There are groups of people who don’t know how to be happy. People fighting for the joy they were banking on. Multitudes of folks who don’t know how to be themselves and need to be taught by a stranger. When will we understand why these people wanting so badly to be happy can’t be? When does sadness become a national health concern? The one thing they’ve got going for them is they know they can be better, happier and they hope to be saner. Ah, hope, happiness and sanity: the trifecta.

There’s a reason that self help is so popular. You are just the right self to help you out. But flip a coin and I agree the mumbo jumbo is no bull. Knowing that each time I wash my hands I affirm myself. I pledge to lead by example. To be brave and true. That’s a big assignment. That’s a lot to ask of myself but the soap dish commands it. It continues to demand excellence. Every day my soap dish holds me accountable. My superficial purchase that was to be devoid of meaning actually became the mantra behind my initiative to change. Of course there were other factors: thank you Momma, Papa B, Hubby, BFF, Bucy & Bean for all your support and snuggles. But honestly, I think it really was the soap dish:)

The Soap Dish that Changed Everything