Saturday, October 8, 2011

privilege of happy being

A Very Short Guide to Life
Rule 1: If you're too busy to go to daily mass, you're too busy.
God gave us 24 hours a day, 7 days a week that's 168 hours in a week. If you go to daily mass 6 days a week, and Sunday mass, that adds up to a total of 4 hours per week. That's 2% of your week. You can spend 2% of your week at daily mass. 
I defs don't live up to this rule as I should --still a work in progress.

Rule 2: Don't do homework Friday night.
Just don't do it.
Do it Thursday, Saturday, Sunday through Thursday, Friday afternoon, whenever. But don't do it Friday night. You you can sit in your room all evening by yourself and just watch TV or read a book, or stare at a crack in the ceiling, but please, please don't do homework. You'll be a happier person.

Rule 3: If you can't wear heels without looking miserable, don't wear them.
High heels were invented so that you could glide across a room feeling graceful, 2-6 inches taller, beautiful, happy, and feminine. They were not invented so that you could look:
A) Like a lady of the night. 
and/or
B) Miserable.
If your six inch wedge heels are sending your beautiful good posture to hell, then don't wear them. They'll make you look uncomfortable and pitiful, not sassy and snazzy.

Rule 4: Don't drink to make yourself feel better; drink to feel even better.
A subtle distinction between the two, but it makes all the difference between ending the night in your cozy bed and ending the night in a pile of your own throw-up on your friend's sofa. I speak truth.

Rule 5: Sing loud, sing proud, sing often.
Preferably Disney.
When singing in the shower the other day, I found myself alternating between Palestrina and Parry's I Was Glad. And in between songs, I would break down that Nicki Minaj rap that I'm currently memorizing.

Rule 6: Make your mother proud.
Sometimes you're in social situations that call upon those classic rules that your mother pounded into your head: never show up to a party empty-handed, thank your host/hostess when you're leaving, phrase brutal truths diplomatically, and never eat the last of anything off a plate. Warm fuzzy feelings appear, and you think: "My mother raised me so well." And all the people around you think: "His mother raised him so well." And the mother thinks: "I raised him so well." 
These are the social interactions we love. Everyone's winning.

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