Why do we bother?


Every year we make these grandiose lists and spend all this time planning, determined to stick to the resolutions we’ve made.  Why?

Wouldn’t it be a better use of our time and energy if we didn’t need to make them in the first place.  If we did all of the things we wanted to do throughout the year to better ourselves and our lives all year long instead of waiting to make a huge impact at the beginning of each new year as if its suppose to mean so much more?  Nobody gives a shit if we start a new diet every year and never last more than two weeks or make that resolution to go back to the gym every morning before work and last 3 days because damn, its too friggin cold at 6:00 am.  The effort is wasted and the energy would be better used paint the living room or work on organizing the basement.  I made a resolution a long time ago not to make any more resolutions because they were stupid.  I never stuck to them and then when I didn’t I felt like shit because the guilt made me feel like I had committed some terrible crime.  Why keep doing that to myself when I would much rather sleep in, in the mornings, watch what I eat all year long and work all year on doing my best so I don’t have to feel guilty.

We have enough in our lives to feel guilty about and enough pressures, we certainly don’t need to add resolutions to the list that we aren’t going to stick to.  They’re a waste of paper and brain power. Go have fun and let go. 

On Feminism, Anti-Feminism, and the Things That Mystify Me

I love this blog posted from Kelly Barnhill. I believe the only people who fear feminism are the ones who don’t know what it means.

Kelly Barnhill

I am ten years old. I am riding a banana seat bike through the alleys. I am allowed to go as far as 31st Street, and then I have to turn back. Words cannot describe how much I love this bike. It is turquoise with sparkly flower decals and I ride back and forth through blocks of alleys singing the entire “Mary Poppins” soundtrack at the top of my lungs. My knees are scratched. My hair needs a comb. I probably haven’t brushed my teeth.

A man in a car pulls up. He opens the window. He asks my name. I have been well-trained. I have learned about good touches and bad touches in school. I know that good people don’t drive up to children on bikes. My teachers have been very clear. I take a good look at his face. I notice his red hair. I take…

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