Make a list of everything that everyone has ever done to piss you off. Be specific. Make your list of grievances. Hold yrself hostage. Promise to kill yourself unless the Universe meets your demands. The Universe, or your parents, or your friends, or the bullies you knew in high school, or the guy you think is hot but won't go out with you, whoever it is that you think should be held accountable. So write it all down, or organize it in your head in list form.
Then, burn the list.
I know that righteous indignation feels, y'know, righteous, but letting it go leaves room for feeling all sorts of different things, including better. I feel productive for measuring the exact length of my temper and discovering each time that I have a bit more rope than I used to. No ceiling-swinger. No chair-kicker.
But I've discovered enough rope to play double-dutch. I think. Let's call the rest of the girls.
What I mean to say is: when I discover that there's enough patience and goodwill and "get-over-it"-ness, as I am discovering now, I want to share it with you. Let's play double-dutch, and you're invited.
These. Pants. Are. Mine. I had a huge crush on them in January when they were prohibitively expensive but I found them on sale at Barney's and for some reason the Barney's downtown had them in my size and they fit and they look cute and they are my dream and I am happy that I will have to eat only beans and rice (meaning I should have gotten them in a smaller size? a-m-b-i-t-i-o-n). The point is: it's okay to feel like you want something and deserve what you want. Sometimes.
Okay. Last night I was with Missa, Bobo, and Jiddy walking to a very fine dinner on the Upper East Side. We had just been bonding on Cedar Hill. And we were walking behind this glamoroous woman and I wanted to remember the look ('MEMBER THE LUKE) but my camera phone sucks so I dared Jiddy to take a photo with hers and Jiddy ALWAYS SUCCEEDS AT DARES. Check out this gorgeousness:
OKAY OKAY LET ME SAY:
This BRAID mixed with this T-SHIRT that says LIONS on it.
Mixed with (you can't see this in the photo) her busy, busy, post-workout, on-my-way-home-to-snuggle-with-my-pet HUSTLE that this woman was doing down the street. As her braid came ever so slightly undone.
I LOVE THIS.