I just don’t get it. For the better part of my life I feel that I’ve leaned towards the glass half full-look at the bright side-I’d like I don’t know.
I just don’t get it. For the better part of my life I feel that I’ve leaned towards the glass half full-look at the bright side-I’d like to teach the world to sing-make lemonade-happy happy joy joy side of things.
Reading this book made me feel doomed. I snorted and harrumphed and tsk’d a lot at her observations and her truths and it made me Unhappy. I don’t much care for books that do that. Okay, let’s back up. I wasn’t expecting a life changer here. I thought it would be anecdotal, humorous, like maybe Amy Sedaris-ish or at least kitschy Erma Bombeck-y… I thought I might find a like-minded soul.
I did not.
I will take the blame for this. High expectations and crap. I should know better. Plus, I really don’t do well with the self-helpy kind of books. They tend to read like ‘all or nothing’ and ‘I am the expert’. This book didn’t do that but it did feel a little preachy. However… and here is where I am not liking myself and feeling sort of hypocritical and Debbie downerish….I’m not sure that she quite… she doesn’t… It’s not…
Ugh. Okay.
1. She is kind of privileged. She lives in Manhattan with a sane, functioning, providing, husband and two gifted little girls and getting to ‘work’ from home (I use quotes because she gets to write and stuff all day and she loves that and I’m not downplaying people who achieve their work nirvana or anything, but I don’t think she thinks it’s work either)
2. She has this awesome support system and lots and lots of friends. She goes to parties. I don’t think I’ve ever been to a party. Certainly not as a grown up.
3. I kind of feel like she’s throwing it in my face.
I know, I own this. She is just trying to get a little appreciation and warm fuzzies out of her day to day life (which is already pretty toasty). I am a major proponent in finding your happy place. Your gleemonex (if you are a Kids in the Hall fan). I just don’t like the way she tells it because she makes it feel like so much work. Become clutter free, don’t expect retribution, exercise more, sleep more, meet new friends, write a novel in a month, indulge yourself (modestly), lighten up, be serious about play, aim higher, stop nagging, don’t gossip, find a spiritual master.
Wow. I have 18 marked pages of issues that I wanted to counteract. That’s not good. I shouldn’t be judging like that. But, scoring your virtues? And taking this cue from Benjamin Franklin? I don’t know. That seems sketchy to me.
Pg. 18. “Was it supremely self-centered to spend so much effort on my own happiness?”
Hell yes. I mean, I’m sure others benefited, but if you started talking about having a play date to clutter free my closet, I’m going to want to punch you in the face.
Pg. 153 “I tried to remember not to judge people harshly, especially on the first or second encounter. Their actions might not reveal their enduring character but instead reflect some situation they find themselves in. Forbearance is a form of generosity.”
Doesn’t that sound snotty? I’m not saying she’s wrong.. I guess I’m just pointing out that her little realizations made me annoyed. I don’t want to be THAT person.
Pg. 215: "It took me a long time to accept this perverse fact—many people don’t want to be happy or at least don’t want to seem happy (and if they act as if they’re not happy, they’re not going to feel happy).”
Ugh. She makes me feel like one of those people and I started this book thinking I’d find kin! Now I’m a frowning, furrowed, huffy, lip biter who sees the bad instead of the good.
Yes, it’s my bad. I said that already. Why does she have to make happiness sound so exhausting? I get it, we need to be more aware of our blessings or what have you. Gratitude journals are big right now, daily truths, calm blue oceans, yoga and colored skies and Meyers Briggs, and parachutes and all that.
I came across a site that offered Positive Affirmations! (for a price) ‘Reminder: You can still grab The Positive Affirmations for Life program (The Positive Affirmation for Life program is a 4-hour audio program, spanning 7 important life series (see below). Each series contains three 12-minute tracks in MP3 format to play virtually anywhere. Plus you get an instructional guide and the complete audio transcripts in PDF format. You get immediate access to the entire product upon purchase.) With more than 4 hours of audio affirmations for 7 life situations that impact your happiness and success the most. You can buy your very own positive affirmation with a 30 day money back guarantee.
See, I’m a cynic. I’m grumpy and I want to argue with all her observations. I want to keep butting in saying ‘but, what about’, ‘and if you aren’t able to…’, ‘really?’. Crud. I hate myself.
Things I did learn from this book:
3 second hugs release oxytocin or dopamine or something that induces calmness (I wish I were a better hugger).
Studies DO show that instant gratification is just that. Can you imagine a study where people went and put like coins in a pay phone for other people to find to make their day? Weird.
I can’t start my own happiness project because I will just make myself miserable. ...more
I know that this is nothing new. An invisible wall of despondency surrounds me. I could rival any teenager with a slew of Gothic poetry. (BrI am sad.
I know that this is nothing new. An invisible wall of despondency surrounds me. I could rival any teenager with a slew of Gothic poetry. (Bring it on, Bella… I can take you.)
Anyway, this wall… it keeps people at bay. There are certain words that they will not use around me. (Like saying to a blind man ‘But, don’t you see?’) Mostly I am okay with this. It saves me from thinking, I can play a role, it eases people, and I feel safe. The problem is that other stuff, the stuff that I want to get through, is also kept at bay. Like that feeling you get when you are reading and a certain passage makes you shudder (people say ‘someone is walking on your grave’.) I miss having words bring tears to my eyes. This will come back, I hope. It‘s just that sometimes, it’s not soon enough.
Take for instance, Francesca Lia Block. When I was 20, I devoured her Dangerous Angels: The Weetzie Bat Books series. I sat on subway platforms and saw the Hollywood Hills; I imagined that the broken girls sitting under weeping willows had guardian angels. I saw my future self, with children who wore taffeta gowns and combat boots to school because they wanted to, whose innocence and genuine trust would take on the big bad world and win. What’s this called? Hope? Inspiration? I can’t remember. (Instead, I have My Chemical Romance Tees and 10-year-old daughters who haven’t believed in Santa in years, but just decided to fill me in.)
Anyway, Francesca used to give me this. I poured through her work, I felt the wonder and to use the cliché, had a spring in my step. Oh, to be so young. I guess I was hoping that this still rang true, I realize that I’m a lifetime away from that girl that used to see Harry Houdini’s mansion when she thought of Hollywood. I’m jaded, guarded, I believe in the Miracle Mile now.
However, these are just words strung haplessly together and I’m evading the review… per usual. If you’ve stuck with me this far, you might as well continue.
Francesca decides to take on the V word. I’m sure she’s written about it before. Before Bella and Edward, when it was still just a flighty subject written by women in long flowing gowns. I just can’t recall a whole book on the subject. She is still in the Hollywood Hills, her girls are still broken and looking for rapture, her boys are still beautiful and lost. The words still flow and I can still see the desperation in their dancing and their sunset on the beaches. L.A. is still the wonderland that it was in 1990. (But, I’m different.) I wish I could still be that girl, I wish that I could still feel that awe. I wish that it only took a book, taffeta and combat boots to make me believe.
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