Should We Live Without Expectations?

Dear lovelies:

I slept forever last night--yay!--to make up for the three nights of bad sleep I had the rest of the week. I'm feeling a million times better but also rather somnambulistic. I've been trying to write this post forever and have been making absolutely NO sense. So forgive me if I'm kind of rambling today.


I'm really touched that yesterday's post inspired so many comments (most of which went up on my Fbook fan page, here).

One reader, Ljudmila (hello!), was concerned that I didn't feel comfortable telling the shrink that I wanted to end things; and I wanted to mention that I have been talking to her about wanting to do that, on and off, for the last year. (!) Whenever I mention it, though, my shrink makes me think that my wanting to break it off is a signed of my effed-up-ness. She says she thinks the problem is that I don't like feeling dependent on her--because I'm scared she's going to die or leave me, like all the other significant older women in my life have (including the approximately 16 housekeepers that we had after my mother died), and so I don't want to get too close to her, just like I don't want to get too close to anyone.

She has also pointed out to me that since my mother was only alive for eight years, there may be some significance to my inclination to break up with her NOW, at the eight-year mark. And it's like, okay, if my life were a novel, that would be a cool detail: a nice way to emphasize the similarity between one relationship and the other, how the second has become a stand-in for the first.

However ... my life is NOT a novel! And I am trying to get my head shrunk, not trying to do a literary critique of my existence!

I guess I do fear that breaking up with her will be some big horrible mistake. But I'm pretty sure that if I ask her if we can resume, she'll take me. (Hasini, maybe that answers your question--posed on the Fbook page.)


Part of the reason I'm so interested in breaking up with my shrink

is because I'm feeling very committed to the whole Maura Kelly

Happiness Project--I want to take charge and make life happier for

myself, instead of waiting for my shrink to "fix" me. I also want to get out of this mindset of thinking someone else will come along and

transform my existence with a wave of his magic wand. *


One step I've been thinking about taking is moving to a cooler

neighborhood. Not that I haven't had a great experience in this area. And not that I don't love my neighbors--especially good old Kabir, who is from Pakistan, and looks like an elf with the little green pointy knit hat he likes to wear, and his salt-and-pepper cone-shaped beard. He speaks almost no English--except the phrases "Where your man? Where your baby?" (At least, that seems to be what he is always asking me, with a good-natured smile.) I wish I could take a picture of him because he's just so cute, but I think it would be very difficult to explain this whole blog thing to him.

Anyway, the only problem with where I live is that I'm QUITE far out in the boondocks of Brooklyn. And I think getting closer to the action would make me happier.


Another thing I've been thinking about lately is how I should live without hope.

Now, I know that might sound weird--especially to the positive thinkers out in L.A. (Hi guys!) But so much of my life consists of hoping that certain things--like a book deal, a lover-boy, a sudden wind-fall--will come along and change everything for me that I'm in a constant of anxiety. (Wishin' and Hopin, as Dusty Springfield might put it.) I feel like I set myself up for vicious disappointments with all this.

So I guess the question becomes: How do I live without hope while also holding on to certain goals (like that of becoming a better writer and that of publishing a book)? Does anyone have any thoughts on the matter?


As part of the Happiness Project, I seem to have agreed to go salsa-dancing with Daisy Milliner tonight. I have to admit--and please, salsa-lovers out there, don't hate me--the whole thing sounds a bit dorky to me: too organized and official. I'm half-expecting to run into all the Student Council members from my high school. (Oh, wait: I was Student Council Vice President. But ... )

I mean, I'm up for shaking my groove things with strangers under the disco ball, but ... I'm skeptical about salsa. However, part of the MK Happiness Project should be trying new things.

I think?

Anyway, this is the outfit I may wear ... although I realize it doesn't look very good in the very blurry picture of myself that I took this morning, with the

mirror propped up on the rocking chair that I sit in when I'm at my computere. I don't really understand why one thigh looks so

much bigger than the other; in real life, they're both the same size.

The shirt is a bright tomato red, with a nice gathered sexy V-neck. Also: Tomato? And salsa? I don't know about you, but I see the connection! Also, the leggings have these awesome zippers up the side that make me feel like a rock star.



*Immanuel Kant, a philosopher whose thinking is pretty beautiful,

says we should never treat other people as a means to end; we should

never use a person to get us something we want. And it's funny, but it

occurs to me that maybe I've been using myself as a means to an end,

rather than an end in myself. Anyway, I'm kind of babbling here, so I'm

going to stop.

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