“If you have too much expectation, you may come away disappointed.” -The Dalai Lama
Let’s get this straight: expectations are different than goals. Goals are things you strive for, expectations are the way you want things to go. It’s one thing to plan for the future, and have a 401K, and put some money away. Those are good things. But it is another thing completely to then say, “this boyfriend better buy me flowers, and remember my birthday”. Those, are expectations. Expectations are always sadly forlorn. Truly.
The truth is, what I always say: who cares. Life is so short. Too short. We live such a short life on earth to be preoccupied with ideas that we and the media and our community put on us. You know? It’s like SARK says in one of her books: when going out some place, instead of saying, “I’m going out, and I’m going to have a GREAT time! Just say, “I’m going out to have a time”. Or something like that. You know what I’m trying to say?
Most of our disappointments in people and things have to do with what we expect from the said people or things. It’s not about raising or lowering your expectations. It’s about not having expectations in the first place.
Today, I worked with Adela, my sewing machine. I named her that because when I work with fiber art, it reminds me of my grandmother, who was an amazing crochet queen, and original domestic goddess. I miss her a lot.
I made this bag, from these AWESOME blank canvas bags from DMC Threads! Very cool.
I love this fabric. I got it from a swap I had recently!
Does this not look awesome as heck? The nice thing about the DMC Canvas bags is that they are quite sturdy, and roomy! I had bought some a while back, and they were not sturdy at all, although they were rather cheap. AND the DMC Canvas bags have the embroidery canvas in the front middle, for those of you who do cross stitch. Cool, right? Enough commercials, though.
Something weird happened the other day. I was on the train, waiting for the eternal A train, to go uptown, when I saw one of my old bosses walking the other way. He had what I call a very “generic white boy” look, which just means blond with blue eyes. So I had to do a double take to be sure it was him. And then, he must have thought I was peeking at his (non exsistent) cuteness! He not only did NOT remember me, but also looked at me like he thought I’m cute! It was a weird moment one because I’ve gained a little weight, and my daughter was with me, also. Normally men don’t look at me so much when she’s with me. I mean, you know. I’m married. You know? But one thing about New York City, is that men here could care less. Wedding ring or no wedding ring, they still love those archaic cat calls.