Connections

I was thinking today how everything is connected: in our bodies, and in our lives. As I did a light workout after putting a kid on the bus, I thought about how first one hip gets injured, so I go easy on it, and then the other hip starts complaining and feeling out of joint too. When one part of our bodies stops being used, the others all have to compensate. 

Okay, it was a medium workout. My back is still feeling it.

When I injured my hip/pelvis three years ago, it blew my mind at how sore my back was. I didn’t even realize it. Our backs bear so much of our burdens. I think a lot of us forget just how much the back connects the rest of the body, and then wonder why we end up with back problems. Like me, many people might forget that the abdominal muscles are there to support the back and spine, and fall into the trap of thinking that wanting a lean or muscled stomach is merely a vanity issue.

It’s not. We need to be strong. 

After stretching from growing three kids, I’m trying to care less about how flat my stomach is and more about how ready it is to bear the burdens of life. As I tensed and breathed and lifted very light weights, I tried to pull all those abdominal and pelvic muscles in, and I could feel them being used in every exercise. I try to work my whole body lightly and fairly quickly these days, because I don’t know when I’ll remember/be able to workout next, and I don’t want to neglect any vital part, which includes just about all of them! At the risk of going all hippie on you, I think workouts should be holistic: involving the whole mind and body. Awareness and peacefulness, focusing on control, letting in tension and releasing it, all of this should be a celebration of what your body can do.  

I don’t know what today will hold, so I tried to warm up everything. I tried to stretch long enough (even though it’s so very, very, boring) to avoid injury, and I tried to wrap it up in time to write this before my teething baby woke up (she just did. But she’s not crying yet. I have time). 

I just noticed today that just like everything in our bodies are connected, things in our lives are too. I think every good thing we do affects the rest of the things. If I work out in the morning (and don’t overdo it), I’m more ready and more happy for the day. If I pray and read scriptures first, I’m more focused on what matters. If I clean one thing, the whole house looks better. If I take care of scheduling that parent-teacher conference finally, I will stop stressing about it. If I'm kinder, that helps others be kind, because all people are connected too. With a more holistic view, hopefully I won’t be neglecting anything vital. But I’m going to do one good thing at a time, and then another, if I can. I heard somewhere that if there’s more water in the bay, all the boats rise. The more good things I do will hopefully make the rest of the things better, not just for me, but for my family too. Aaaaand I've gotta go now. She's crying.

I wish you success in your endeavors today. Be strong, and take care of yourself.

When Gratitude Makes You Grumpy

 So, it's that time of year when everyone is posting about how they are so blessed and how grateful they are. Maybe you are seeing their happy pictures and thinking as you roll your eyes, "Oh, good for you! I'm glad everything is so hunky-dory and perfect in your life!" And maybe you are annoyed because Thanksgiving is coming up, and you are not feeling thankful, and you are annoyed that people are telling you to be grateful. I've certainly felt like that. 

Well, to myself as much as to you, stop it. 

You know these people. Don't think for a second that they don't have problems. Everyone you know, at any given time, will have something that they're struggling with. Celebrating a good thing does not mean that's all there is to the story. Being grateful for something isn't lying about having no problems at all. Gratitude does not betray your sorrow.

Or does it? If someone asks you how things are going, it's probably a lie to say that it's all good, and that everything is fine. Usually when we say that, I think we're saying that we're handling our struggles. It may be a desire to look capable or pride in not wanting to admit things are not fine. It's a quick exchange, usually. We don't want to go into the complexities of our issues or sound like a bitter, complaining soul (that we feel like we are sometimes), especially if the person asking can't help us. You may not even want help. You may find that your struggles are chronic and view them as unsolvable. 

So, what then? Shall we just be grumpy this entire holiday season, feeling inadequate and un-festive while our communities throw jolly plans and decor at us? Shall we isolate ourselves further in this time of cold, dark, and viral infections? Am I just going to turn into Ebeneezer Scrooge a little more every year?!

Here's the thing which I'm sure you've heard before: it's all about perspective. Aaand that's probably annoying to hear again, but I think it's true. Two people can go through the very same circumstances and have vastly different versions of the story without lying at all. Two brothers and their families for example (See 1 Nephi 17:1-3; 20-21), suffered for eight years in the wild. One was grateful for their blessings, strength, and experience gained, and the other was mourning what could have been, counting their sufferings, and saying that it would have been better to die. That's a bit of a downer. It all depends on what they focused on. Look at any situation, like where you are now. There are bad and uncomfortable things, but I'll bet there are good things too, even if it's only a joke that still makes you smile. For me, there's the insomnia I still struggle with (which is not as bad as it was), and there was the kind lady who offered me her own umbrella when I were walking in the rain. What am I going to focus on? And you?

As I see it, there are always reasons to be unhappy, and the reverse is also true. There are just two ways we can go about it. Our memories are like a dinner we attend where the host gave us two drinks and we sampled both: one left a horribly bitter taste in our mouths, and the other is sweet. Drinking one won't make the other disappear. But which one will we decide to focus on?

Life is also like a blank page in a coloring book. It has harsh black lines that state the facts, and we didn't get to choose what the picture was. Maybe it was an octopus. Maybe you don't like octopuses. You didn't ask for it. But there it is. And here's the thing: you get to choose how to color it. My 4-year-old daughter decided her octopus would be a rainbow, so she and I colored a downright magnificent rainbow octopus with our markers. 

You color your world. I'm telling you that you are not helpless. If you're too tired, maybe just fill in the polka dots today. Even if you only have a pen or pencil in your life's drawing, you can get creative and draw mustaches and glasses. You can color with friends. The people you let in your life can add things with their different perspective that you'd never think of, in good ways and bad. My brother once took a Thumbelina coloring book and changed her eyes that were too close together into one eye, and renamed her "Cyclopsina." That still gets me.

This time of year is hard when you aren't happy and you feel like you should be somehow. And when you feel like things aren't getting better, when your goals are astronomically far away instead of just down the street like they used to be, and you wonder if you will ever be okay. When you feel like that, STOP. Things will get better. You WILL be okay. I care about you, and I do not want you to believe something so slimy and false that will destroy your happiness. Don't ever think that you'll never be okay. You will be okay. Even if you have to wait until the long, dark night is over. It will end.

The first Thanksgiving, as I learned it in school, was celebrated by Pilgrims and Indians--fine--Native Americans. The pilgrims had left everything behind in their old world and almost died their first year in the new one. The Native Americans helped them survive, a kind example of friendship that is not common. Were they celebrating perfect lives? Hecks to the no! They were celebrating having an actual harvest. Friendship. Survival. Improvement. They took those gloriously orange pumpkins with the bland squash flavor and turned them into pies. I mean, eventually they did. Probably not at the first feast, but you get the picture. Life can always be better, but you can still color yourself a mean rainbow octopus. You can taste the sweet drink instead. You can count the good things instead of the bad things. The choice is yours, every minute of the day. 

So, fine. I'm grateful for quiet time to write this morning, my own laptop, and WiFi. For that kind lady who offered me her umbrella. For you, since you're probably one of my friends if you're reading this.

Thank you for helping me color my world.

And if you want cheering up, Strongbad's kid's book. This still gets me too. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=bT4SGdq0ZyU

And another fun thing: the fantastic Poets of the Fall song "Choice Millionaire." The video is odd, so read the lyrics if you don't fancy it: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=biZpPNzt3II 

The inspiring and relatable scripture story of the two brothers that I referenced as well: https://abn.churchofjesuschrist.org/study/scriptures/bofm/1-ne/17?lang=eng&abVersion=V04&abName=GLOB88

When Change is Somehow for the Better, or Two Wise Suzannes

So, when Ron and I finally bought our first house, where I went to church changed because of where the borders were drawn for each congregation, or ward as we call it. I was just barely starting to feel comfortable where we were going, and this was a bummer. But when I was discussing this change with a friend from that ward--Suzanne, was her name--she told me that sometimes change is for the better. I didn't believe her. But sure, I accepted that it was a possibility.

It's a long name, but I'm a member of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, which I truly do believe was restored by the Lord through Joseph Smith, and has all the priesthood authority and saving ordinances necessary to change our lives for better now, and to enable us to return to live with God in heaven. That's why I've kept going to buildings full of strangers even though it's been uncomfortable. Our congregations meet in units called wards, and for the last 7 or 8 years now, mine has been the Eastmont Ward. 

I wish everyone had the chance to live in the Eastmont Ward at some point in their lives. I mean, it was awkward at first. It was slightly comforting to be greeted by a young, bald father when we came, since there was a young, bald father who'd been our friend in our previous ward. The bishop warmly welcomed us at a Christmas activity, and that was nice to be noticed and befriended so soon. For a while, I felt like I just kind of floated along without getting to know anyone well, but I was determined to get involved this time. As I sat next to people and talked to them, I got invited to activities and get-togethers, and I could barely tell the lifelong friends apart from the new move-ins like me. That was unusual. 

The change of wards was actually for the better! Sorry, old wards, but Eastmont is simply my favorite. It is where I've found acceptance. It's where I was entrusted with things that were difficult, and was lovingly and patiently encouraged to keep trying. I was praised even when I thought I'd flunked the whole thing. Is it entirely peopled with saintly grandparents? No, but the more I've gotten to know people there, the more they feel like family, and like true saints: sinners who keep on trying. I was asked to teach children in Primary and play the organ for the whole congregation, things that I had barely any talent or ability for. These things forced me to work hard to keep up with and get better, which has brought me more satisfaction than if I'd just gotten to sit still and listen. Working hard in the gospel is a good thing.

When my husband stopped coming due to his changed beliefs, I had to decide if I was going to go alone and sit by myself or not. By divine inspiration, they gave me reasons to come (and to come on time!). This strengthened my faith when it might have shriveled up entirely. Any anxiety that I felt with an upcoming lesson for a chaotic class of 7 and 8 year-olds and/or playing the organ badly in front of everyone--and I did feel anxiety--was overcome by the desire I felt to serve the Lord and these good people I was getting to know. Not because I'm so unselfish, but because I was needed. I just sang pleading hymns in the car while I drove there to keep from breaking down from nervousness. It helped. And then I sang thankful hymns on the way back. Lots of singing in the car.

One time I played the organ so, so, SO badly that I went to the women's bathroom to cry about it instead of going to Primary to sit with my class. I think it was another Suzanne, the one who showed me how to play the organ, that inadvertently found me, and instead of agreeing that I'd done badly, she just said something like, "Oh, there you are! Come on, we need you."

And that's what it's been like with pretty much everyone! You show up and try your feeble best, and they love you for it. They seem to accept that everyone has made mistakes, and through Jesus Christ's Atonement, you are forgiven. They accept that everyone still makes mistakes, and everyone is in a growing and learning process. And it's not like everyone who lives in the borders of this ward is the same. We all have widely different circumstances, hobbies, favorite sports teams, and political preferences, but two things unite us: the mere location of our homes, and more importantly, our faith in Jesus Christ. That's why we all go. Not because we're a tight group of friends, or that we need to pretend that we're perfect. What I've experienced there is solidarity, sympathy, and encouragement. With that atmosphere, I've been able to grow, learn, and contribute.

I don't know why this ward is different. Many people have come and gone, some of whom I'd call the backbone of our ward, and the borders have been changed at least twice. I still feel like it's a place of faith, acceptance, and love. I feel that everyone there is needed, even someone as bad at helping people as I am (seriously, my piano skills are not the best). I feel like it's a place where people actually, actively live the gospel of Jesus Christ. Where they accept you as you are, but encourage you to grow, and help you along the way. I couldn't even begin to list the people that have helped me. That list grew astronomically when I had a baby and I needed someone to hold her while I played the organ. She did not like being held by other people, either, so that was especially kind of them. So many of them have moved away, or are in another ward now, and it's so sad. I do know that where they are now is so much the better for their presence. Their new wards and communities are downright fortunate to have them. And you guys had better appreciate them! 

I still don't like change; it's scary and unfamiliar. It tears holes in our friendships and comforts. It can make our struggles--our needs--overwhelming. But I've learned that yes, sometimes it can be good, and even better than before. I've learned that our needs in life bring us closer to people we never would have gotten to know, and I wouldn't trade knowing them for any level of mundane comfort. The harder we try to serve and help others even while we are struggling has, oddly enough, made us stronger and better able to endure or overcome our struggles. The sweet overcomes the bitter somehow. Somehow. It's kind of a miracle. But then, we believe in Jesus Christ, who was born of a virgin, performed countless miracles in his life, and then rose from the dead. Our God is a God of Miracles, so I guess I shouldn't be surprised.

Ice Cream Categories

 So, my daughter woke me up at 4:30 this morning because she had a bad dream. She didn't want to talk about it, apparently, so we just cuddled on the couch until she agreed to go back to bed. I wanted to lie down and snooze on the couch so bad! But I changed her diaper and got her a drink, and after using the bathroom myself, I got to back to bed, because she did not wake up her brother! In fact, he is still asleep. That's awesome. But me? I laid down and immediately my brain began cataloging various flavors and brands of ice cream. It's been a half hour already, and I'm still awake, so rather than being angry, I'm just going to go with it. We have five categories this morning! We'll go least favorite, meh, most disappointing, absolute favorite, and favorite chocolate flavor. Because chocolate is kind of a different category than fruit or other kinds of candy.

1. Least Favorite

Coffee ice cream was never on the table, because coffee is disgusting, so forget that. The worst ice cream I've ever had is Winco Brand Vanilla Bean. It was an awful, strong flavor that I unfortunately purchased in a gallon tub, and rather than waste the precious cold dessert, I just tried to drown it out with condiments and fruit. Blech. I even wrote a song about how I regretted buying it. Never again. You gotta be careful with vanilla flavors. French, bean, Farr's brand, etc. I've had vanilla beans flavors that I've liked, but I don't remember the brands they were, so it's just not worth it to me to keep wasting freezer space. Plain vanilla, Winco brand is a staple, though. There is pretty much always a gallon tub in my freezer. It's good by itself, but bland enough that I can add anything to it and the flavors get along nicely. 

Funnily enough, my mom's least favorite is Neopolitan. She says they just do a bad job on all three flavors and won't even bother to eat it, even if it's the only option. Makes me giggle, but I can't blame her, even if I actually like cheap Neopolitan.

2. Meh

I didn't think they existed for me, but there are kinds of ice cream that just aren't good. I think I'd still eat them if they were offered, though. Just to be polite. Or if it was a really hot day. First that comes to mind is Umpqua strawberry. Just not what I want, because the flavor seems off. Next up is Rocky Road. Ice cream with nuts used to be a type where I'd eat it and try not to grimace at the nuts, but... I'll actually crave those a little bit sometimes. I like a little salty with my sweets now that I'm older and have a lower sugar tolerance. Rocky Road was a flavor that as a kid I would avoid the nuts as much as possible, while mentally cheering "MARSHMALLOW!" but the last time I had it, it was a "meh."

3. Absolute Favorite

Right now? Keeping chocolate ice cream as it's own separate category? Orange-Vanilla Swirl: orange sherbet meets that plain vanilla in an amazing blend of tart and smooth. I don't know why it's better than just a scoop of sherbet and a scoop of vanilla, but they are my favorite combination, hands down. They are practically a match made in heaven, like Emmett and Wild Style--or Lucy, I guess--from The Lego Movie. They don't sell it very often, sadly. But any season, it's an all-time, absolute favorite. They sell orange creamsicles, and when I first had them, I deemed that they tasted like true love's kiss.  At least, how I imagined that would taste like, haha.

4. Most Disappointing

Tillamook is one of the best brands out there, which I did not know until I moved to Washington State and my husband got an amazing albeit miserable job so we can afford the tastiest brand. Usually they swirl delectable flavors into rich, creamy ice cream that has me digging for more from the carton when I really should have portioned out a modest serving into a bowl. I'm getting a little better about that, but anyway: Chocolate Peanut Butter. They dropped the ball on that one! I don't know what was going on. The chocolate wasn't rich and the peanut butter wasn't very salty. They just missed it on both counts! I guess I was expecting something as good as a Reese's peanut butter up, and this was just nothing close. It was especially disappointing because I was craving it a lot that night when my one-year-old was just not going to sleep.

5. Favorite Chocolate

Any brand of Chocolate Moose Tracks is amazing, but hands down, my all time favorite of choco, the one that satisfies the craving and makes me feel like a fat cat purring over my late-night snack when all the kids have gone to bed is... (drumroll, please) Tillamook Mudslide!

(The crowd of the imaginary audience cheers) It's an amazingly rich, dark chocolate ice cream that gets even better with this hard, fudgy swirl in the middle. The swirl is almost salty but so amazing. Even though it's tough to break it into manageable pieces with your spoon, it's so worth it because it just melts in your mouth and satisfies every last chocolate craving with ultimate success. I just love it so much. It's not even fair. How does anything taste that good?!

So there you have it. My brain just needed to get that out there so I could go back to sleep. We live in troubled times, my friends. It's the little things that we take joy in that make a difference. Finding our favorites out of these things is a worthy pursuit, especially if we can proudly say that we controlled our appetites for them last night and only got a modest bowl full. Find your version of a Tillamook Mudslide and treat yourself! Or even just the actual Tillamook Mudslide. Umpqua Chocolate Brownie Thunder is also amazing, because BROWNIES! 

I'm not even hungry right now, so I don't know why my brain had to go through this process. Yeesh. Okay, I actually am getting hungry now that it's after 5 a.m., but not even for ice cream. What the heck, brain?

Love vs Fear

I love people, but I'm also afraid of them.

They can be so fragile. Clumsy words hurt them, and they don't always say so. Honest feelings hurt them, and not even opinions, just feelings. Most of the time they forgive my clumsy words because they know I mean well, so I have to mean well all of the time. This is exhausting. 

Sometimes I long for the comfort of close friendship where you don't have to worry about what you say because you already know them well enough and they know you well enough not to misunderstand an offhand remark. I long for the comfort of knowing they know me and like me anyway. It is hard to take the risk, however. Being acquaintances or casual friends that don't intentionally spend a lot of time together seems safer. With the difficulty of scheduling around kids and such, it is more natural now than becoming close friends, but this is because I am a coward. The more frequent interactions we have, the more I worry that once they get to know me, my clumsy words will annoy them, or they'll find my laugh grating.

Do you ever feel like that? I have been on the other side of that where I thought I would like to be actual friends with someone, only to find that certain negative aspects about them were stronger than I thought. It is hard to describe without sounding petty, but perhaps because it is petty. There are behaviors that I do not like in other people, such as gossiping, or lengthy, repetitive lists of health problems, chronic complaining, or looking at life as if no one could understand how much more they suffer than anyone else. Some others include inconsistent honesty, one-way conversations, (long ones, too) and always needing something instead of ever wanting to just spend time together. These are tolerable in short doses, but not in close friendship. I value my free time too much to want those things to suck it all away, and sadly, would prefer to be alone instead of friends with these people. I don't want to behave like that, and I'm worried that I will become like that if I'm not careful. A while ago, I realized that what I dislike most about other people are aspects that I dislike about myself and have been trying to downplay. I don't like them because they're like me.

In short, I realize that I'm afraid that other people won't like me because they'll be too much like me.

Maybe that is why I am drawn to people who seem different, who are cheerful, energetic, loving, and enthusiastic. People who love to learn and grow, who are trying new things. People who know what they want, and accomplish their goals instead of giving up before their small project is finished. I want to be more like people who take care of themselves and their families and their lives without my failings--though I do take relief that my failings are not uncommon. I love having things in common. But perhaps I secretly hope they have solutions to these problems that I haven't thought of yet.

I want to be friends, but that includes taking the risk of coming out of my shell long enough to say, "I like you. Will you give up your free time and spend it with me?" and hope that they do not say yes just to be kind. It's as hard as dating used to be. It makes me nervous because I have to guess if the other person is liking or just tolerating me. There are many people out there that I would like to be closer to, especially when my closest friends are states away. I miss them, and it makes me sad to see others form close friendships around me so easily. They just call each other and decide to hang out on a whim, without any fear of rejection! How do they do that? Man, I want to be like you! I want to be less afraid.

I want to walk down the street to the park and let go of my fear that the other moms will think what I say is stupid or offensive, or that I'm judging everything they do. I promise, I'm not. If anything, I'm looking for tips on how to be a better mom. I want to tell the women wearing hijabs that I think they look neat and beautiful without worrying that they think I look wanton for showing my hair and my arms. I want to tell them that I admire that they live what they believe in. I want to feel comfortable around black people without worrying that they look at me and think that I can't understand them because I'm white. I want to tell them I love their Afros or neat, tight braids (my hair is always so messy, so I guess I'm a fan of neat hairstyles, haha). 

It's a pandemic right now, so socializing has taken a back seat in priorities, and I guess this gives me time to work up my courage. I don't know why I've become so closed-off and afraid of people. Probably 98% of all the people I've ever met have been kind to me, even if that kindness was just ignoring me instead of being unkind. This is the world I've grown up in, where you can't trust strangers, but most of them have been basically good. Where they don't know you, but they are still kind to your children, and will chase after you to give you back something you've dropped. I know it is not like that for everyone everywhere, but for me, 98% of them have, and I know that 100% are capable of it.

I love and believe in the scriptural phrase "I fear not what man can do; for perfect love casteth out all fear." (The Book of Mormon, Moroni 8:16) This is the sort of love I long to have, where I am no longer afraid of reaching out and loving others. The kind of love that is what it is, no matter what judgments, secret opinions, or prejudices other people might have. I want to be the kind of person who smiles at strangers everyday instead of just when I'm strong and gives compliments instead of just thinking them. One friend can make such a difference. One friend can make the world beautiful. One friend can be inspiring enough to cause positive change in another's life. Ah, I want to be that friend. 

I want to take the risk of admitting that I like someone and would like to know them better and take up some of their free time if they don't mind. But in order to do that, I have to become better at scheduling and asking people over to my house for a movie night, or on walks, or to go out for ice cream or pizza or pho when it's no longer frowned upon to socialize. With that perfect love in my heart, there would no longer be room for fear of rejection. Fear is about me. Love is about other people. If I truly love, then I am free from fear. Well, I'm not there yet. But if I reach out in love, I have nothing to lose; only something to gain, and there's nothing they can do to me that will change who I am. Well, strangers can't, but friends can change you, for the better, or for the worse. That's why they're so scary. And every interaction does have an effect on us. They can all change us, and be long remembered as bright spots or scars. 

Again, I tell myself, fear is about me. Love is about other people. Just choose to love. That's all you have to do.

Your Balancing Act in the Circus of Life

I always think of Qui Gon Jinn in Star Wars: Episode I when I hear the word 'balance.' https://youtu.be/ojXpHwhIqO8?t=89 "He is the Chosen One. He will bring balance." Did Qui Gon want Anakin to kill all those poor little Jedi? Was that a good kind of balance? He was dying, give him a break.

So how are we supposed to live balanced lives? The minute we start to do something that we need to do, something else clamors for our attention! The minute I feel like I've made progress in one area, something happens as a reminder that I've neglected another important area, and usually with all the gentleness of a swift kick to the pants. WHY?!

It occurred to me the other day that the best metaphor for balancing our lives isn't standing still while juggling. During my day, I have to move a lot from thing to thing, sprinting, stopping, changing direction, being delayed, and so on. I realized that in our lives we're mostly moving. And when you're balancing physical movement, even for something as commonplace as walking, you're constantly adjusting in order to stay upright. In order not to fall while doing yoga, you make frequent, if not constant adjustments to keep your balance. 

In Rachel Hollis's book "Girl, Stop Apologizing," she said that "Work-life balance is a myth." She followed up with,"the scale is never balanced; it constantly shifts back and forth based on what needs my attention right this second." That there was no answer to working toward your goals and having a perfect balance between your work life and home life seemed weird to me, but I think she was right. I think that there's no one setting that you can set and forget when it comes to balancing your life with all the responsibilities you take on. With all the people you have to take care of, and all the changes you have to make now and then or everyday, you're moving. So while you move, you evaluate. You write down what's working and what's not. You consult your confidants and respected ones. 

Ultimately, you adjust as you go. Like standing on one foot while you lift the other in the air and spread your arms out hopefully like some kind of wise, centered monk, you adjust yourself to keep upright. Frequently, if not constantly, you tweak things here and there. As long as you're watchful and humble enough to give consideration to warnings or advice you get, I think you'll be okay. I pray an awful lot that I'll receive guidance, and I need to work on listening afterward to get that inspiration from God, but a glimmer of understanding has percolated into my tired brain lately. I need to move forward, and once I'm moving, I can see what's working and what's not. Ears and eyes open, priorities set and reset, day by day, we can make little bits of progress that will accumulate like the soft, white cotton seeds that are floating in the air right now. Well, hopefully more like rain. But not too much rain. Haha, we want balance, not a flood. I hope you have the energy you need today, and that this helps a little! Now I need to get off my duff and start moving again because this chair is no longer comfortable. ^_^

"Netflix and Chill?!?!" Warning: Rant Concerning a Sexual Innuendo

I super hate that phrase: "Netflix and Chill." I thought it was exactly what it sounded like. As a date, it sounds like something a couple who's been together for a while would want to do at the end of a long, tiring day. A boring date when you have low energy and no good ideas. Just sit on the couch while cuddling, perhaps, watch something mindless, and maybe eat some snacks. Chill.

So, what, it means sex?!

Sex is not bad. I'm not against sex between two consenting adults, especially if they are married to each other. It's part of a biologically healthy relationship. BUT WHAT THE HECK?! Sex is NOT chill! It's a physical activity that requires cardiovascular endurance. At some points, every muscle in the body is tense. My husband has told me that it's the best full-body exercise for humans (and he would say that). So in what way is that chilling?

Worst metaphor ever! Not a good innuendo! How did it come to mean that?!?! I would be super-duper annoyed if a man suggested we watch a movie and chill when he really intended to make me work hard. It's really rude to say "Let's relax and not worry about anything," if you really mean "Now work really hard and please me to the point where you will want a shower."

Like, if a man (or woman) asked you on a hiking trip, and told you it was a mild hike of one or two miles with no elevation gain. And then you find out after you're on the trail that he or she lied to you, and the trail is really TEN miles, straight uphill, and when you say you didn't dress for that, or that you're not feeling up to it, they look at you like a wounded puppy, a soldier betrayed, or worse, leave you alone, in the middle of the woods, stomping off in a huff. Wouldn't you be mad? That example is extreme, but drastically different expectations can have the same bad emotional effect in a relationship.

It's selfish and dishonest to suggest doing one thing and mean the complete opposite. Sure, most people probably know what that is supposed to mean, but still! If my coworkers had not explained it to me, I would not have figured it out, because sex is the exact opposite of chilling. Maybe that's the whole point and it's supposed to be ironic. I don't know. I don't even care at this point.

In short, GOOD GRIEF, PEOPLE! JUST SAY WHAT YOU MEAN AND STOP BEING ALL COY AND DISHONEST WITH YOUR LANGUAGE!

Okay, rant over. It just makes me super mad.