41. Life advice.

I'm sure everyone's read that one article about wearing sunscreen and various other inspirational texts written by people with varying amounts of life experience. I like those texts, especially the ones that show kindness, sympathy, understanding, and a hint of insanity make for happy elderly people free of bitterness. I'd like to be an old lady like that one day.

As an experiment, I am writing out a list of advice that comes to my head right now, at the weakling age of 24. I wish to write out a similar list ten, twenty, fifty years from now and see what's changed.

1. Don't worry so much.
2. Study less when it comes to things that don't matter. Focus your energies more.
3. Eat less chocolate.
4. Start using anti-aging creams when you're 18. When you're 24, it'll be too late.
5. Learn to say things like "No", "I don't agree", "That really hurt me", and "We need to talk about this".
6. Learn to say "I'm sorry". Say it whenever it's due, but mean it. Expect others to say it, too.
7. Take self-indulgient photos often and in great quantities. As Brad Pitt says, you will never be as lovely as you are right now - regardless of what you think.
8. Read more, spend less time on the Internet.
9. Take time to figure out what you want, and then go after it in an organized manner.
10. Say "yes" more often. Don't fear so much.
11. Think "What's the worst that could happen?", then laugh it off and do it. Laugh at your own embarrassments, and realize others probably aren't laughing half as much or remembering it half as long.
12. Don't flagellate people. Clearly voice your opinion, let them know exactly how and why their actions hurt you, and walk away or forgive them. No one deserves to be punished forever.
13. Tell that guy you think he's cute. If he's anything but flattered, he's a jerk.
14. Make lists of things that make you happy. Observe the random acts of kindness of strangers.
15. Take vitamins.
16. Always aim a bit higher than you think you can reach.
17. Read life advice by people like Mary Schmich and Kurt Vonnegut. Write them fanmail while they're still alive to read it.

Mary Schmich's article: http://www.davidpbrown.co.uk/poetry/mary-schmich.html

40. Holding hands.

"We're here to help each other get through this thing, whatever it is."
-Mark Vonnegut

39. Alvin Ailey American Dance Theater

"What I like is the line and technical range that classical ballet gives to the body. But I still want to project to the audience the expressiveness that only modern dance offers, especially for the inner kinds of things."
-Alvin Ailey

I have always enjoyed dancing more than watching others dance, and as a result don't go to see dance performances very often. I made an exception for the Alvin Ailey American Dance Theater and boy am I glad I did.

The performance was flawless. I am finicky and snobbish about detail. Even in professional troupes, someone is always three inches off - it's only human. These dancers had such perfect lines, such perfect timing it was eerie. One of the more glorious - and more difficult - things about dancing is working in unison and feeling rather than seeing where everyone is on the stage. You need to trust your partner will pick you up when you go flying through the air (or at least trust the fall won't kill you!); I'm pretty sure the choreographers had invented a new lift or ten for the numbers. The dancers had the technique and all the tools needed to be taken seriously, while still managing to be entertaining: the last number was performed in 19th-century dresses, sunhats, and flapping fans. They really did fulfill the goals set in the quote above of combining a classical technique with flexibility and expression. It's all too rare for a dancer to fluently combine jazz, ballet, contemporary modern and African, and all the more admirable for that.

In short: stunning. Go see them. It'll give you goosebumps.

http://www.alvinailey.org

38. Costumes.

Spotted on the bus: one alligator and one fox. Both were man-sized and had a stubbly face. Both were wearing t-shirts saying "Jackknive Mavericks - Chuck Norris Approved". It may have been the most amazing thing ever.

Just saying.

37. Converse.

Every day is Casual Friday in my world, and actual Casual Fridays tend towards the positively ratty:

I'm not big on promoting massive corporations selling over-priced goods, especially since there are alternatives like No Sweat Shoes (http://www.nosweatstuff.com.au/index.html), but I have a soft spot for chucks that I just can't shake. I bought this pair five years ago before going trekking across the Mediterranean. Since then, they have seen me through rock-climbing, wading through shrubbery, many nights of dancing and, of course, several hundreds of kilometres of walking. They look hideous, but are still the comfiest, lightest shoes I have alongside with my Ecco sandals (which have saved me from limping on particularly long walks).

Protect your feet: those stilettos might make your feet look amazing now, but bunions will not do so twenty years from now.

36. Compliments.

Note: The above picture has little to do with this post apart from being a fairly accurate depiction of the grin I've been wearing all afternoon.

I was on a Saturday morning stroll when a young man stopped right as he was walking past me. "What a beautiful woman You are," he said. (Yes, in the polite form of address.) "Thank You, thank You," I said and continued walking. And grinned the entire afternoon.

To me, there are two types of compliments. There are the ones you get from people trying to hit on you ("You seem like such a smart lady - can I touch your boobs?") or after wheedling them out of your friends or partners ("No honey, you don't look fat in that dress.") or in return for complimenting someone ("Thanks, I enjoyed your presentation as well."). These can be lovely, but they tend to leave you wondering how earnest they are. Then there are extra-special compliments. These come when you least expect them, and when the people giving them don't expect to get anything in return. You pass someone at a nightclub in your swankiest top and will accidentally overhear them whisper "Wow, did you see that redhead?" to their friend. Your friend will get hilariously drunk and tell you they think you're the nicest person they know (and not remember any of it the next day). A random stranger will stop you to say they think you have a cool style. Someone whose respect you've worked hard to earn finally and reluctantly gives it to you.

I challenge myself and you to give a compliment to a random stranger. It just might make their day.

35. Mothers.

Last Sunday was Mother's Day here. I know it's not a happy holiday for all; giving birth does not entitle you to call yourself a mother, and some people never learn to be worthy of that title. I am extremely fortunate to have a mother who is easy to love and who loves me back even more.

Whenever I talk about my mother, I end up talking about myself. This is fitting in many ways. My mother is not a perfect person; some might argue she's very flawed. She is, however, a perfect mother, to the point where the idea of motherhood terrifies me a lot of the time. How could I ever devote my life to someone as selflessly as my mother has done? She was a a typical middle child; I was an only child and always spoiled with attention. I have always been the centre of my mother's life. Will I ever be able to move from the centre of gravity into a planet circling it? I don't know.

I do know, however, that my mother has taught me many things. She's taught me to always put others' needs before your own. (I have mostly unlearnt this one.) She's taught me there is no shame in embarrassing yourself to save someone else's face. She's taught me making stupid faces will never stop being funny - as a matter of fact, it gets exponentially funnier the more wrinkles you have. She's taught me to always pay my taxes and like it. She's taught me all people are equal, no exceptions allowed. She's taught me it's okay to make mistakes as long as you don't hurt others. She's taught me chocolate and dancing by yourself makes everything better. She's taught me to always wear sensible shoes and bring tissues. She's taught me I'm great but no better than anyone else, and that I don't need to be the best to be good. She's taught me to stand up for things I believe in and to shut up when I have nothing constructive to say. (Okay, I'm working on this one as well.) She's taught me women can fix the plumbing better than most men. She's taught me that family will stick by you, no matter how messed up you are, what colour your hair or skin is, how many times you've been institutionalized, what your fetishes are, how many times you lose at this game called life. You're ours, and we'll be damned if we ever let you go.

She's mine, and I'll be damned if I ever let her go.