Sunday, March 14, 2010

I used to have this journal...

...well, I still have it in a stack with the rest of my old pre-internet journals, filled with very girlish, loopy handwriting and lots of exclamation points...

...that had a cover that said, "Just for happy."

I feel like that's something I have to keep reminding myself to do...not so much the "be happy" part, but the "just for today" half.

I had a professor in was my Communication Law course (I think that's what it called...towards the end, I was taking all of these legal and political courses...not sure why. My friend asked me if I was prepping myself to be the next Jackie Kennedy.) I remember him telling us how important it is to be happy...and if happiness to you is watching Wheel of Fortune and eating Cheezdoodles all day, then so be it.

Just be happy.

Who cares?

Just be happy.

I've been worrying a lot...maybe it's my upcoming birthday, which is making me feel like I haven't accomplished nearly as much as I wanted to by this point in my life (I've been talking about Apolo Anton Ohno a lot lately, and he's exactly two months younger than me! And look at what everything he's done! And those Jonas Brothers are young enough to be my sons! Kinda.)...I'm surrounded by girls my own age getting married and having babies and I feel so far away from all of that...I worry that it won't ever happen for me...I worry that I'll end-up being not a Crazy Cat Lady (I am dreadfully allergic to cats) but like the Crazy Westie Lady (Westies are hyperallergenic) I always see walking her four a baby carriage...wearing Burberry coats. I worry about something happening to my mom the way that something happened to my dad...I have friends getting MBAs at Ivy League schools and will soon be making four times my salary (or something like that.) I worry that I'll never have a good idea for a story or a play ever again...I worry about my mother selling our family home...I worry about my train breaking down tomorrow, another 9/11 happening, becoming sick, walking into a pole and knocking-out my teeth.

Some of these things seem so ridiculous that it is like I look for things to worry about when there is nothing to worry about.

I know I can probably come-off quite "footloose and fancy-free" to others, but I'm really not.

It's really quite the opposite.

I am a complete, utter bundle-of-nerves.

But I really want to stop being one of those and writing it all down and announcing it to the four people that READ this blog is probably the first step...nobody is forcing me to feel this way, so why am I doing it to myself? What exactly is the point?

People always tell me great stuff about myself...I'm apparently hilariously funny, kind, talented, a fantastic writer, smart, a generous friend, lovely with children, and the word "adorable" is used frequently. If people are always telling me stuff like that, it must be, why don't I feel a little better about myself? How come I'm not going through life with this unstoppable "CAN DO" attitude? (a la Apolo Anton Ohno. I think I just wanted an excuse to say "a la Apolo Anton Ohno.")

How come I devote so much time to worrying about things I have no control over?

What good does that do? What on earth does it accomplish?

Seriously? As cliche as it might sound, this could be my very last day on earth, and why should I spend it worrying about anything?

In two weeks, I start a new year...and I'm going to get a two-week headstart on a new start. Maybe 28 will be the best year ever.

Maybe I'll approach every day with a "just for happy" attitude.

And then maybe everything else will take care of itself.

Diana Rissetto

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