Should I delete Facebook? A personal essay (or Facebook post, rather…)

I actually posted this on Facebook.  :)

I’m highly considering deleting Facebook… for personal reasons, nothing dramatic. It has more to do with simplicity and reality.

If you are reading this, then you are still using this mode of communication; therefore, you may not understand nor agree with my reasons. If you are not reading this, it’s very possible that you have already deleted me, hidden my posts, simply missed this post, or have quit Facebook…or possibly, …gasp… never started.

Facebook usage is like most decisions in our lives: personal. I thank you for respecting my request for privacy at this time. Haha, that last part was a joke (kind of like celebrities’ divorce announcements on their amicable splits), which I must clarify, because sarcasm is nearly impossible to convey in written form like this, at least for me, but probably for most of us, as uncited scientific studies show: only 10% of communication is verbal, and 100% of Facebook usage is verbal, aside from still photos and video shares. Of course, now that I think about it, few people get my sarcasm anyhow, anywhere, which is part of my point.

My disenchantment stems from the disdain this social channel exudes when people share real personal struggles and frustrations. Facebook Friends don’t want to hear the gritty details, but rather, see a picture of my cat or my Christmas tree or something else cheerful.

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Friend Boy with Lionel, pretending to like cats.

I know this is what people think because it’s all in the Metrics. People Like things they Like. They don’t Like things they don’t like or didn’t see. They didn’t see them because they’ve chosen to ignore your posts or because they chose to focus on other Friends. Either way, this drives home the point that each human being, no matter how connected and hip, can only focus (in a regular and meaningful way) on a limited number of relationships.

But, really, this should be of no surprise to me, as Facebook reflects real life, on some convoluted level.

The expectations of social pleasantries here are no different than the social pleasantries we, as a society, expect in the grocery store, at church, in the break room. When someone asks how you are doing in an off-handed, common way, s/he expects an off-handed common answer, like “Fine. You?” Anything too specifically difficult or sad qualifies as strange, rude, complaining, dramatic, depressing, a “cry for help”, inconsiderate.

Recently, I came to the conclusion that Facebook has become yet another social arena, where I must “pretend.” If we actually talk about real stuff in real life, then you know me, and know that I require deep connections nurtured by deep friendships, in which I can express incomplete thoughts without fear of judgement or retaliation or gossip.

I think the word Friend confused me.

I’m looking to limit the amount of social interactions I have that are shallow, the kind that only want to hear about my cat, but get uncomfortable or irritated hearing about anxiety at being an almost 30-something with a great sense of uncertainty, the kind that likes pretending s/he is confident and put-together and prefers that I pretend the same.

If this sounds enticing, or at the very least, appealing, to you….being close friends, …then I hope we connect, somehow, someway. Please make sure I have your phone number, email, mailing address (so we can be pen pals)… I’ll make sure I have yours. After all, Facebook may not be around forever. Maybe, just maybe, after this, we could meet for coffee, and be friends. And if neither of us makes a move, then maybe, just maybe, it wasn’t meant to be.

Love,
Rebecca

When should I quit?: Killing your dream, so it can live

I think I’m going to retire from Music.  By retire, I mean, relinquish all hope of being known and financially rewarded for it.  I want to return to the year 2008, when I had wonder at learning Bob Dylan and Alison Krauss songs.  I still want to record songs in the studio and be in contests and play in market places and festivals.  But trying to market myself is exhausting and detracts from my joy.  I want to return to my natural state of doing things that are fun and natural expressions of my creative mind, not because I “should” and “have” to do in order to be successful… and successful to me meant making enough money that I could do “that” and nothing else.  But the reality is that, in order to do “that and nothing else,” I have had to do a lot of things that I am not gifted at doing, so that I actually end up not doing what I love doing, which is the thing that inspires me.  Inspiration is a state of being and if I have to give up a dream to maintain my inspiration, then I will do that.  Success without inspiration is prostitution. I’m back… and I’m still me… I always will be.  If I’m meant to have the desires of my heart, then nothing can deter them from becoming a reality, not even my abandonment of them.

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What I really want to show you... is this... me, in my room, that is really messy, and the painted portrait of my Great Aunt Avis, hanging next to my handmade tulle skirts, with all the excitement of trying on new outfits and hats, that seemed like a good idea at the time, and my total involvement in the peak expression of singing or trying something new. Isn't this what all expressionists try to do... express what they experienced and disocovered to a larger, engaged audience? Whether you're a teacher, actor or Mommy, don't we all just want to share our poignant thoughts, feelings, and knowledge with people who care? Total narcissists may not apply. Partial ones, yes.

The Time-Space Theory and My Bikini: Questioning Existence

Brian Greene’s The Fabric of the Cosmos blew my mind last.  I didn’t go to sleep until about 7 this morning. It brought tears to my eyes to consider the complexity of something as seemingly simple as Space and Time, which can lead us to ask if time travel is possible, based on the theories of the connectedness of Space and Time.  I never knew other people thought about these things (besides my Dad, who was the first person in my life to challenge me to define time).

I’d ask myself more practical questions, like, “Why does it matter if I show up 10 minutes late because WHAT is time anyway?  Why should I feel so pressured by the “tick” of a few minutes?”  Of course, time is just a way to prioritize choices and events.  But I also don’t agree with the strict time keeping in America… other cultures don’t find it rude to show up a little “late.” I think I might be in the wrong culture… or maybe… the wrong Universe!

Yes, it would be totally possible (not yet provable or disprovable) that there is not only a UNI-verse, but a MULTI-verse.  It’s fairly possible since the Creation continues to expand.

I find that amazing and really uncomfortable to think of this possibility.

I don’t even think, most importantly, this Science disproves God, but rather reinforces His existence and the idea the all things are made by Christ, through Christ, and for Christ.  I find this overwhelming to consider His complexity as I see the complexity of the Creation.

Also, the Scientists on the show so easily said they “didn’t know” things… it reminded me that I don’t need to feel defensive when someone doesn’t agree with me or when someone tried to make me feel foolish for asserting an idea they disagree with.  ALL of the Scientists who made these mind-blowing contributions to the Science community, endured YEARS of their colleagues thinking they were CRAZY for asserting these ridiculous notions, like “Space isn’t just space… it’s got stuff in it.

Again, I think I’ve forgotten that it’s okay and preferable to ask questions, to ask “why.”  This isn’t rude in and of itself to ask why, this is necessary to learn and to not be blinded to reality.  You COULD ask “why” rudely, with condescension and disrespect, but simply asking the question is not disrespectful.  I think I feel like the outcast so much because, I challenge the status quo, without even meaning to… I’m really just quite curious.  But at the same time, I struggle with wanting to be a polite lady… and in our culture, polite ladies don’t ask questions, they don’t wonder “why,” and they don’t seek out the deeper truth in reality because someone might get their feelings hurt.

It’s quite a terrible state to be in.

I think this might be one reason I never feel accepted by Christians in large quantities because I ask WHY are we doing this…. which, for me, comes from WHAT the Bible says about God and man…WHY are we taking the Lord’s supper, WHY do I HAVE to be here on Wednesday, too… WHY do I HAVE to give 10% tithing, WHY can I not wear a two-piece bathing suit (when modesty is an issue of the heart, and the manifestation of this outward expression of an inward expression, shows itself quite differently among many different Christians, who live in different cultures), while boys from the same group, can how off their abs by running around without shirts. And maybe, just maybe, I don’t “have” to do any of these things to be pleasing to and obey God… and if this is the case, don’t you think I ought to find that out.  People who want to control what you know, want to control the situation and you.  I don’t take these kinds of people very seriously.  Asking “why” doesn’t indicate a hard heart of disobedience and pride, but the heart behind it canI ask WHY so that I don’t fall into legalism.

When you are not free to ask WHY, you are not free.

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I might wear a bikini like this in a Multi-verse. Actually, my friend suggested that this was a victory for me to wear this 2-piece for multiple reasons. 1) Body image issues/Eating Disorder 2) Wasn't allowed to wear bikinis growing up 3) Went to church camps that made girls wear shirts OVER bathing suits, while boys got to run around shirtless. .... Okay, I'll take responsibility for this one. This isn't a picture from a Multi-verse of my imagination. This is real. I chose to wear this and unwittingly, challenged myself internally, and externally, too, knowing I wouldn't be approved of by certain religious influences I idolize having. My 1st bikini at age 27 (with the exception of one I might've worn when I was under 5). Clarksville, TN, July 2013

Why is the motivation for action…. without it, you just have meaningless action.  Action is only meaningful with motivation.

If Nate gives me flowers, it’s because he’s trying to show me he loves me.  If he gives me flowers but he doesn’t mean anything by it, then the gift of flowers is sort of meaningless on some level.  I still love the flowers, they are one of my preferences, but the deeper meaning behind it means nothing.  WHY does he give me flowers… because he loves me and wants to show me this.  Without this element, they are just pretty flowers.  Oh, and by the way, his love for me exists outside of the flowers, not because of them.

This is the same thing as logic and science and laws, they show what is, but don’t answer the why.  You need the what and the why.  The why is implication of the what! And for me, this WHY is epitomized in our glorification of Christ. He is the reason all of these questions mean anything. Knowing that, I feel so free and happy to explore this life!

Here’s the documentary, if you’re interested.  If you read this far, it’s just possible you’re as crazy as I am, and are willing to explore the Unknown. Go, it’s really a lot of fun!

http://topdocumentaryfilms.com/the-fabric-of-th e-cosmos/

Until next time.

Love,
Rebecca

How Teddy Ruxpin helps me glorify God

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It’s so nice to live with a theologian and philosopher, my brother, Tommy.

A few minutes ago, I said to him, “Tommy, I’ve started sleeping with Teddy Ruxpin again. Is that weird?”

He responded, “Yeah, a little.”

I said back,”Well, there’s a reason little kids cuddle with stuffed animals. It’s comforting.”

Then he said, “Well, as long as you’re doing it for the glory of God.”

Astonished and curious as to how this glory might manifest itself, I asked, “How could I cuddle Teddy Ruxpin to the glory of God?”

Tommy told me,”The comfort Teddy Ruxpin gives you, could remind you of God’s love for you. Receiving all gifts with gratitude can glorify God, too.”

So, there you have it guys… I’m 27 and recently started snuggling stuffed animals again. Normally, I feel very self-conscious about most things because people have often labeled me as “weird.”

But after this discussion with my brother today, I just began to care a little less about that label. In good conscience, I can cuddle a stuffed animal, even if society thinks it’s weird, because I am receiving it with gratitude as a gift of comfort and pleasure from God.

All the “weird” things about which I am enthusiastic, can bring God glory, so it doesn’t matter if someone judges me as strange.

Until next time.

Love,
Rebecca

Zombies, Night Owls, Early Birds and a Good Night’s Sleep: 90-Minute Sleep Cycle

I woke up this morning around 10:30, after wrestling with myself to fall asleep last night.  Finally, around 3:30 A.M., my eyes started drooping and forcing themselves shut as I added several of Target’s basic cardigans to my Wish List.  Even though I’ll probably not buy all these things on my Wish List, going through the process of collecting pieces of clothing Iike, forces me to decide what I like and don’t like, which primes ny mind to be more aware of these characteristics in clothes I might run across in the future, that could be cheaper.  Who knows?  But, really I was just trying to kill time until I finally felt sleepy.  It’s curse…. I’m a Night Owl, relegated to a world of Morning People.

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These Love Birds are like Morning Birds... they're cute when you're in happily in love, too, but annoying when you're not. Same way with Early Birds... they're happiness is infectious when you're well-rested, but like nails-on-a-chalkboard when they're talking and smiling before Noon.

Honestly, I don’t care what your preference is for sleeping schedules.  But I do resent the labels that Morning Birds give me, like “Lazy” or the accusations that I’m so tired in the morning because I’m out “Partying.”  I’m just asking for equal representation.

But because the reality of my world does not line up with my vision of how it ought to be, I still try to fit in and figure.out how to live peaceably in it.  So I decided to figure out how to fall asleep earlier by Googling, of course!  It’s modern day research.

That’s when I discovered the apex of a good night’s sleep:  It’s not how long, necessarily you sleep, but when you wake up during your sleep cycle.

Apparently, we sleep cycle for 90-minute intervals.  So this explains why sometimes you wake up like an hour earlier than your alarm and feel rested.  Then you think,”Oh, this is great.  I still have another hour.”  DON’T go back to sleep.  If you have less than 90-minutes to sleep, then try to get up.  Okay, this is what I’ve heard, I’m not actually sure if its true, but it makes sense.

Then I thought about the advice about sleeping for a full 8 hours each night seems off-base.  It seems more beneficial to sleep for 7.5 or 9 hours.

So of course, I made a chart to help me determine the “prime” bed time.  Never mind that I can’t actually fall asleep at a fixed time.  I have insomnia.  But it helps to understand the principle.

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Actually, I’ve noticed this validity in my own sleep schedule throughout my life.  I’d feel markedly more rested when I sleep about 7 or 9 hours, in comparison to 8 hours, which made me feel more exhausted.

And never mind that it doesn’t matter if 5:30 in the A.M. is not the prime time for someone like me, a night owl, to wake up for work… because I just cannot fall asleep earlier enough to get enough sleep.  But… it does give me internal.ammunition against all those annoyingly chipper Morning Birds, who like to insinuate I’m out drinking and partying, when the reality is much less cool.  I’m actually up late making stuff, writing songs, or philosophizing, and alternately crying because I’m so frustrated I have to be awake in 6 hours and I just cannot seem to fall asleep.  But, alas…

So this morning, when I woke up around 10:30 after fighting against Zombies in the Apocalypse that finally reached our world through my nightmares, I felt exhausted.  When I do sleep, I most often have terrifying nightmares, so pardon me for not wanting to be “up and at ‘em”… I’ve been fighting Zombies in my sleep… and not the original, slow ones, these were the CRAZY ZOMBIES, the kind in World War Z or La Guerra Mundial Z, depending on the country you’re in.

In case you’re curious, I survived, by finding safety with a group of people, including Halle Berry, in a mansion in the country with a tiny fence around it (in reality, it would have provided no protection, but rather provoked the Zombies as though it were a challenge to trample over the delicate, Pickett fence).  The whole dream I was so terrified and exhausted, that several times, particularly the time I was hiding in the Pharmacy, I contemplated throwing myself to the Zombies.

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I heard Zombies don't like sunlight, .... oh, no... that's Vampires. THAT would've been a bad idea.

The terror was not worth my safety.

Ah, but isn’t that life and not only a dream:

You have to question when the pain is worth the gain, when the terror is worth the fight, and when you should just give up.

I was so terrified of the Zombies, that when a group of Middle Earth Knights stormed the “castle,” I wasn’t even afraid of their armour and lances.  No matter how brutal, a live human being could be, it could not surpass my terror of the Living Dead.  And perhaps it was my ambivalence towards them, that led to my safety.

Needless to say, when I awakened this morning, I was terrified and exhausted.  I didn’t want to get out of bed.  But when I saw the time, I realized I had slept for about 7 hours.  Suddenly, my sleep chart came back to my memory.  If I had any hope of surviving, not only my Zombie Apocalypse nightmare, but also my waking world this Sunday, then I needed to get up.  If I fell back asleep, not only could the Zombies get me again, but I’d also sleep far too long in the day, exacerbating my insomnia tonight.

Yes… the only way to survive… was to wake up… now.

Overcoming Stage Fright: It’s not what you think

I always get this sense of nervousness and anxiety about performing.  Will I do well?  Will people like it?  Will I feel the same sense of peace and confidence I feel in my bedroom when I practice and no one’s listening?  Will I mess it up?

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Rebecca Lynn Forehand, Spring 2013, Clarksville, TN

But I feel this same sense of anxiety and nervousness when I do any number of other things, like going on a job interview, going on a blind date, meeting someone I haven’t had a good experience with in the past, telling my parents I’m going out of the country, asking my boss for a raise (haha, I’ve never actually done that)…

So the only conclusion I can come to about Stage Fright is that it is social.  All of these things that make me nervous or uncomfortable involve other people and how they will perceive me and what that perception will lead them to do about me in their lives.

They could judge me, ignore me, berate me, love me, encourage me, praise me, criticize me, give me something, take away something.

I feel Stage Fright all the time when I play at the nursing home… I want them to be entertained by my music and not think I’m a waste of space there.  Yeah, this can have the appearance of being concerned about others’ happiness, but on a core level, it’s me being concerned about my feelings of acceptance.

I care about them being entertained, but if I dig deeper down to the pit of my motivations, I’ll tell you that I’m actually worried that they won’t find me entertaining and then that would be embarassing because then I’d be playing my heart out, not knowing that no one actually liked it, and then the joke’s on me, I feel really foolish.

Friend Boy always tell me that the Old Folks love my music, especially the song about the vegetarian vampire… but it actually doesn’t matter if they liked it or didn’t like it.  If I go in with the fear of what people think of me (if they like me, my music, my personality, my dress, my lipstick, my ridiculously large flower, my jokes, my thoughts l, my beliefs) as my driving force for performing well, then I’ve already lost.

When I’m controlled by my self-consciousness awareness, I can’t really be aware of other people.

This is a classic example of:  You can’t actually love someone when you’re afraid of them.

If I need or want something from you, and I’m afraid I’ll get it or not get it, then my interactions with you are always going to be based on me getting my needs met through our relationship.  I can’t love you, when I am expecting something from you.

Stage Fright is frightening because it reminds us very openly of our dependence on others’ acceptance of us, maybe when we never even realized that we were dependent… that’s really frightening, when you recognize that you’re actually highly dependent on the world’s perception of you.

But generally, we don’t want to go that deep and so we gloss over the “real” problem in favor of a cute, little euphemism, like Stage Fright.

When I can overcome my need to have your acceptance of my life, then I can be free to love you… and this includes performing a song for you with the intention to share something valuable with you, not to get you to like me or start buying my merchandise.

I feel the need to caveat here that I know that wanting to be accepted by each other is very normal and human.  I’m not denigrating that.  But I don’t feel like clarifying the issue further.  That’s a whole other post and I’m trying to set borders and limitations for myself and say “no” and prioritize my projects and manage my time.

Surely, you understand this and will let me move on.  I actually need to get ready for a music thing with Musicians On-Call.  I am very nervous.  I’ve done it before, but it was so scary, the whole thing.  So I hope that I can remember everything I’ve just told you about Stage Fright.

I hope I can love the patients enough to simply share a song to make them smile, not to make them like me.

Oh, if only I could do this each moment of my life.

Until next time.

Love,
Rebecca

Online shopping has helped me be more decisive!

I’ve really gotten into online shopping lately.  America Apparel.  Ebay.  Amazon.  Target.  Whatever.

Part of it started when my Friend Boy invited me to be his date for a military ball in May 2013.  Of course… I needed a dress.  Immediately, I thought of the Two Birds brand of Bride’s Maids dresses that I saw on David Tutera’s My Fair Wedding. You can wear it about 50 different ways because the straps are so long they can be wrapped around you endlessly, strapless, one shoulder, halter, blah blah… But the name brand is like $300, so… I kept searching for a “similar” version.  Finally Von Vonni…VV makes a comparable  version of the same style of dress, but they call it the Transformer.  I found one on eBay for 1/3 of the cost of the Two Birds version.  And I got it… well Friend Boy got it… I am his lady and he likes to contribute to my happiness and feminine appeal, so he bid on it.

He also didn’t mind doing this because he knew that I was sure I wanted that particular dress.  He knows because he listens to what I like.  I’m always raving about convertible dresses and clothing that can be transformed into a different piece, like the American Apparel Le Sac Dress and their Bandeaux Stretchy Dress… ah, heaven for a girl like me who strives for an integrated life of simplicity.  The three weeks before the ball, I spent every weekend trying on the dress… trying it this way, or that… Ironically, like always, I ended up going with a version I didn’t even think I’d like all that much.  But it just seemed right… the most comfortable.

 

All dressed up with somewhere to go, Ft. Campbell, KY Military Ball with Friend Boy, May 2013

All dressed up with somewhere to go, Ft. Campbell, KY Military Ball with Friend Boy, May 2013

 

Generally, that’s how I make decisions lately… no more second-guessing, just peace and preference.  I’m famous around my friends for “over-analyzing.”  It’s a cute way to say I’m neurotic.  :)

I’ll say, “Susie, I was thinking of wearing this, but then I thought, ‘It might rain’ so now I think I might wear something else because I won’t have enough room to carry my umbrella and if this outfit gets wet, it might get ruined and I won’t have time to figure out how to fix it.  I’ve got such a busy week coming up.  But then again, it might not rain and then I would have missed out on wearing what I really want to wear because of rain that never fell…. maybe I’ll just chance it and wear it anyway.  I just don’t know… what do you think I should do, Susie?”

My friends are often as indecisive as I am and often they say, “Well, I don’t want to tell you what to do… just do what you think is best.  I don’t know.”  Actually, that’s usually how I respond to friends who ask me for advice, too… I don’t know.

Actually, let’s just all admit that we don’t know anything… and then move on.  I’ve talked about this all the time… we can’t possibly know how the future will turn out or what the “best” plan of action is that would account for all possible outcomes and intricacies.  I think part of my stress about making decisions in the past stems from a false belief that I could, in fact, predict the way things would turn out if only I gathered enough information… this information gathering phase was disguised under the burden of being responsible and determining the best course of action… only, I never got around to making the decision and if I did, I always second-guessed it.

If it did rain, in this aforementioned scenario of an outing with my pretend friend, Susie, then I would berate myself, “Ah, it DID rain.  I knew it would rain.  Why did I wear this outfit?  Now it’s ruined.  Well, it’s my fault.  I knew it would rain.  I am so mad at myself.  I knew better.”  Of course, I never actually KNEW for sure it would rain….I only actually knew it would rain AFTER it actually started to rain!  DUH!  It might very well have NOT rained and everything would have gone on like normal.

Making decisions forces us to realize that we cannot possibly determine or even fully guess the future, and so we never know for sure, until afterwards, if the decision was the “best” one for the situation.  Usually best means we got everything we wanted and nothing inconvenient or bad happened.  But what if instead of saying this was a “perfect decision” or a “stupid decision”, if we instead said, “I’m making the decision that seems reasonable right now… and I WILL have mental resources to deal with any of the consequences of this in the future.”

Online shopping has helped me get over my fear of making the “wrong decision.”  Online shopping forces you to make an educated decision without having all the facts.  You can read all the clothing chart sizes, materials used, and read all the customer reviews, but you never actually know if it was the “right decision” until you get the item.  Even then, you could try it on and it fits fine at first, but the first time you wear it, you realize it’s not that comfortable.

In Argentina, I did some online shopping… I wanted to have some fun, cute items to look forward to upon my return, so I became obsessed with ModCloth!  I found this perfect pair of  Navy Lace-Up Pumps.  Navy is my new color scheme, as of the last year or so…. by 2014, I’d like to have all black removed from my wardrobe.  It’s part of my simplistic approach to fashion and my life, part of my Clothing Capsule (Google it).  But the shoe came in European shoe sizes, which I’ve never worn.  Someone in Argentina told  me just to add 30 to my shoe size, which would make me a 38.  But then some of the charts on line told me that my Euro shoe size would be a 39.  Then I read that the Chelsea Crew brand of shoes I wanted ran small, but I have skinny feet so it should be fine.  OKAY!  I was soooo uncertain about what size to get.  I took a break and came back to it the next day.  I decided to:  BUY the shoes!

What is the worst thing that could happen?  They are shoes.  I can return them.  Yes, I’ll be disappointed if they don’t fit right.  Yes, I’ll be inconvenienced to go to the post office to mail them back.  Yes, I’ll be out some money for re-shipping costs.  Yes, it’s possible, the next size I get may not fit right, either… then the above inconveniences will re-emerge.  But this is all possible, not for sure… I won’t know for sure until AFTER it happens.  But what I do remember in this moment is that I WILL have the mental resources to deal with these consequences in the future.  I will handle things as they come, not before they come.

God gives us the grace we need for the moments we need it.

Even for something as simple as buying shoes online, I can trust God to provide me with not only the shoes I need, but also the strength to handle my present reality, whether it be a reality of convenience or inconvenience.  All things work together for good for those who love Him… right?

With this in mind, I can buy shoes online with confidence, instead of anxiety!  With this in mind, I can boldly go forth with my decision to simplify my wardrobe by buying fewer/better items in the same color scheme of navy (pink, green and red look so good with navy!) With this in mind, I can love my enemies without fear because I know who holds the future…no need to prove myself or demand respect from someone.

It turned out that, in fact, the shoes were the WRONG size.  I was sad.  But I handled it one moment at a time.  I called the customer service and asked what size I should get.  She said 39, not a 40 (which is what I thought because the shoes supposedly ran really small).  But unfortunately, they didn’t have the size I needed in the color and style I wanted.  Long story short, I found a similar style in the same brand and color that I ordered from the same company.  I haven’t gotten them, yet, so I don’t know if they fit.  But with all the research I’d done in the past, coupled with my previous experience of the 38 not fitting properly, along with the advice of someone with specific knowledge, I made the best decision I could and decided to order the 39, instead of the 40.  We’ll see… what’s the worst that could happen?

That’s part of the reason that Friend Boy knew I was serious about this Navy Transformer dress that I wore to his ball.  I’ve done research, I’ve excluded things, I’ve watched David Tutera enough to know I think this style of dress is amazing, I’ve bought other styles of convertible dresses from American Apparel… and navy IS my new color scheme.

My decisions and troubles with fashion merely represent my deeper life decisions.  Some people might think it is shallow to be concerned with a clothing capsule or color schemes, but to me it represents being able to decisively decide what is important to me and to clarify what I want.  They might think it’s shallow, but I think they might be shallow thinkers, who can’t see the bigger life picture that everyday moments and trials represent.

Being willing to make decisions that may result in an inconvenience is a necessary part of making decisions.  There will be times we make decisions that end up being everything we’d hoped, but then there will be times we make decisions that cause more inconvenience than we wanted.  But experiencing the inconveniences, remembering that we can learn from this new experience, and moving forward to make a new decisions, is called being flexible… and to me, that is successful.  Flexibility to make decisions based off of new evidences and experiences and advice is the crux of good decision-making, not getting it “right” every time.

But still, I hope those shoes fit… they’re so cute and they’re navy… :)