I'm sitting at my practicum office, just waiting. Waiting for the phone to ring. Again. I have things to do but nowhere to be for another hour and a half, so it's not a total waste of time to just browse webcomics and write on my blog and sit and wait. And it's a good time reflect on where I am.
I'm waiting for another internship site to call me back. I applied to 16 different sites, have interviews with 9 of them, was rejected by 2 of them, and am still waiting to hear from 5 of them - which will happen by the end of this week. It's that crazy time when if I sleep past 8am on a weekday, the first thing I do is check my email because there could be an invitation for an interview in my inbox (and last week one morning there was). I answer my phone at unknown numbers now because it's usually an internship site (though on Saturday it was actually a wrong number). I've been playing phone tag with this one site since Friday, and that's the call that I'm waiting for. The receptionist said that she was just finishing with a client and would call me soon so that I can schedule an interview with this site, and that's what I'm waiting on.
It's a nervewracking and exciting time for me, but mostly exciting. It's kinda stressful looking for low-cost plane tickets and figuring out all the scheduling and travel arrangements, but mostly it's exciting. In January, I will be traveling to at least 5 different states, 2 of which I've never been to before. And one of them could be my new home for a year. Having never lived outside of Texas, this is all kinda crazy for me, but also exciting. I want to move away, at least for a year. I want to experience life somewhere else, with people who think and act different from me, surrounded by a landscape and maybe a climate that is nothing like what I'm used to. I crave this change.
Fortunately, right now this excitement is overshadowing my sadness of leaving, but the sadness peeks out sometimes too. Like last night when I placed my left hand on her shoulder at church, my dear friend of 2 and 1/2 years who is graduating and moving. We spoke a long, beautiful blessing over her and tears filled my eyes. Mostly it was sadness to be saying good-bye to my friend, but it was also sadness for myself as I realized that in five months people who love me will be speaking this same blessing over me as I leave.
Even crazier is this relationship that I'm in with a man that I'm starting to fall for. I told myself that I didn't care if I dated or not this year because I'm moving next year, and maybe I'll meet someone when I move away to a new place, a bigger city maybe, with new faces and other fish. And I really believed that, but I was still open to romance, I'm not going to close any doors because of my impending move. I'm happy and feel such peace that if this relationship is "meant to be", that it won't matter if I move across the country. Yet the timing of it is weird. It's kind of weird of God to put two anxious personalities together in a relationship right when one of those personalities is about to move. But maybe that's the point.
Even crazier about this relationship is that if things do pan out, if we do decide to spend our lives together, my life is going to change drastically. How I imagined my future, my career and the life that I envisioned, will be completely different. I don't know if I'll be able to make that choice and make that change, but now is not the time to decide. Long before meeting him, I've continued to surrender my desires and plans recognize that God could have something different in store for me than what I could dream up, and that is good and exciting and great. But now that I'm faced with this possibility, I'd be a liar if I don't admit that it freaks me out sometimes.
Ok, no call yet. It's time for me to pack up and go. The phone will ring when it will ring, and all of this will work out somehow.
Showing posts with label romance. Show all posts
Showing posts with label romance. Show all posts
Monday, December 13, 2010
Tuesday, November 23, 2010
I don't miss you
This evening, while driving home on my bicycle, I thought about one of my best friends, a classmate, who went home early last week for Thanksgiving. I wished that she were still in town. I wished that I could see her before this upcoming Monday. I missed her. So I sent her a text message telling her that I missed her.
Which made me realize, I don't miss a lot of people. I don't miss my dad. I don't often miss my friends who live in other cities and states. Worst of all, I don't miss the guy I recently started dating who lives in another city. And all of these people, at some time or another, tell me that they miss me.
Am I cold and heartless? Am a horrible daughter, friend, significant other? Am I too selfish and absorbed in my current life that I fail to think about the people I care about who are far away?
Maybe. Probably not. I think the key is that the amount I miss people is almost directly related to how often I see them. My friends who live in town, who I'm used to seeing on a regular basis, those are the people I miss the most when I notice their absence. On Sunday, I saw a friend at church who had been out of town for a few weeks. I had missed her. Things happened that I wanted to include her in, but I couldn't. I wanted to talk to her at times, but I knew she was busy. I missed her and I was excited to see her return. My classmate I mentioned above? I see her 2-3 times a week, so after 6 days without seeing her, I miss her. Whenever I move or someone else moves? For a time, I miss those people a lot.
This applies to the friends and family who live in other cities. How much I miss them is related to how often I see them. The friends I see almost every two months? After 3 or 4 months, I start to miss them. The friends I only see every 6 months? Sometimes sooner, but by 9 months I start missing them. I'm used to these people not being a regular part of my life. I don't expect to see them more often than I do. So, how much I miss a person has less to do with how much I care about them but rather how often I expect to see or talk to them.
And the guy I'm dating? He says, "I miss you," and I say, "I'm excited to see you again." I don't miss him that often. I think this is two-fold. First, we've never lived in the same city and I don't expect to see him more often than we see each other. If we continue dating and I move to another state (which I hope to do next year), then I'd miss him. I imagine that if we were to go a day without talking, then I would miss him. Second, this relationship is so new and I'm not diving in headfirst like I usually do with relationships, so I'm still not quite used to him being a regular part of my life. In the past year and a half since my last serious romantic relationship, I've become quite happy and content with the single life I've been given here. Back in the spring, I recognized that I was happy and though I wanted to date, I don't want a guy coming in and messing with all the good things I'm enjoying now. I realized that any guy I let into my life in a significant manner better really be worth it to let him in and let him start messing up my daily routines and future plans.
But isn't this horrible not to miss the guy I'm dating? Shouldn't romantic love be all-consuming? Shouldn't I be swept off my feet and can't stand to be away from him? Maybe. Probably not.
Which made me realize, I don't miss a lot of people. I don't miss my dad. I don't often miss my friends who live in other cities and states. Worst of all, I don't miss the guy I recently started dating who lives in another city. And all of these people, at some time or another, tell me that they miss me.
Am I cold and heartless? Am a horrible daughter, friend, significant other? Am I too selfish and absorbed in my current life that I fail to think about the people I care about who are far away?
Maybe. Probably not. I think the key is that the amount I miss people is almost directly related to how often I see them. My friends who live in town, who I'm used to seeing on a regular basis, those are the people I miss the most when I notice their absence. On Sunday, I saw a friend at church who had been out of town for a few weeks. I had missed her. Things happened that I wanted to include her in, but I couldn't. I wanted to talk to her at times, but I knew she was busy. I missed her and I was excited to see her return. My classmate I mentioned above? I see her 2-3 times a week, so after 6 days without seeing her, I miss her. Whenever I move or someone else moves? For a time, I miss those people a lot.
This applies to the friends and family who live in other cities. How much I miss them is related to how often I see them. The friends I see almost every two months? After 3 or 4 months, I start to miss them. The friends I only see every 6 months? Sometimes sooner, but by 9 months I start missing them. I'm used to these people not being a regular part of my life. I don't expect to see them more often than I do. So, how much I miss a person has less to do with how much I care about them but rather how often I expect to see or talk to them.
And the guy I'm dating? He says, "I miss you," and I say, "I'm excited to see you again." I don't miss him that often. I think this is two-fold. First, we've never lived in the same city and I don't expect to see him more often than we see each other. If we continue dating and I move to another state (which I hope to do next year), then I'd miss him. I imagine that if we were to go a day without talking, then I would miss him. Second, this relationship is so new and I'm not diving in headfirst like I usually do with relationships, so I'm still not quite used to him being a regular part of my life. In the past year and a half since my last serious romantic relationship, I've become quite happy and content with the single life I've been given here. Back in the spring, I recognized that I was happy and though I wanted to date, I don't want a guy coming in and messing with all the good things I'm enjoying now. I realized that any guy I let into my life in a significant manner better really be worth it to let him in and let him start messing up my daily routines and future plans.
But isn't this horrible not to miss the guy I'm dating? Shouldn't romantic love be all-consuming? Shouldn't I be swept off my feet and can't stand to be away from him? Maybe. Probably not.
Thursday, May 13, 2010
other people's love stories
I often feel like I just keep playing a weird part in other people's love stories, over, and over again. I'm that girl the hero thinks he's in love with, and then he meets someone else, or he realizes he's still in love with that other girl he thought he wasn't in love with anymore. Or I'm the quirky friend urging the heroine to follow her heart or stay careful or chase her dreams. Except in this rom-com, the quirky female friend doesn't fall in love with the awkward male friend. Not yet at least.
And likely someday I'll have a love story of my own, where I get to play the heroine and I get to share romantic adventures with the hero. And those who's parts I've played in their love stories? They will be the strange characters in my love story, the boys who didn't love me enough or who lost my love, the boys I fell for but who weren't meant to stick around. They will be Sally's Joe, or Prince Humperdink (ha!) or Kathleen Kelly's Frank Navasky. Some of them will be Franks, the dutiful boys who would have stayed with me had I not let them go, but more of them are Joe's.
But for now I'll be Parker Posey or Judy Greer or (worse) James Marsden before 27 Dresses.
This is the story of the boys who loved you
Who love you now and loved you then
And some were sweet, some were cold and snuffed you
And some just laid around in bed.
Some had crumbled you straight to your knees
Did it cruel, did it tenderly
Some had crawled their way into your heart
To rend your ventricles apart
This is the story of the boys who loved you
This is the story of your red right ankle.
But wait, why does my story have to revolve around love and romance and relationships? Who said that the only story worth telling is about a man and a woman falling in love? Ok, everyone says that, it's all over our culture, everywhere you turn around. But do I have to buy that, hook, line, and sinker? Why should I write my story around someone else? What kind of a frail human actually holds that kind of power in my life, that I would want to write my story around him? Why should I believe that my biggest desire, my greatest source of fulfillment is in falling in love?
The first few paragraphs of this blog are sadly easier for me to feel and believe at times, but despite all the confusion I feel, I really do believe that the above paragraph is more true. That I have a life to live, and purpose to pursue and it's happening NOW, whether I'm single, engaged, married, a mother, a daughter, a student, a psychologist, a sister, whoever I am, I am me and I have so much to give and offer to those around me. I'm just as much me now as I would be me if I were married or with a Ph.D. in my hand. Why do we keep believing that single people are just married people who haven't found their "better half" yet? Why do I swallow these lies again and again?
Sometimes, I'm freed from those lies. I spent most of this semester remarkably happy to be single, loving my life and my relationships, and not even really desiring to be in a relationship, because having a dude around would just mess up all the good things I've got going on, and he's got to be really worth it for me to mess my life up for him. I wish I felt that happy and content this consistently now, but lately it still comes in moments and waves. It comes in moments when I'm surrounded by my family that loves me, when they wrap themselves around me with love and support. And it comes in quiet moments, when I sit on my bed and type and contemplate these things and when I stretch back onto my pillow and pray and remember that I have all that I need, that my Father doesn't withhold any good gifts from me, and that this is good. That it's good to be me, a student, a counselor, a friend, a sister, and I don't need to be anyone else right now. It's good. And those boys that loved me or who didn't love me? Well, it's good for them to be themselves, they're not some pawns in mine or anyone else's story, they're valuable humans created by God, just as I am. If I'm just a character in someone else's story, it's not a silly human fable, it's a divine story, a sacred story.
Besides, Parker Freakin' Posey is pretty freakin' fabulous.
And likely someday I'll have a love story of my own, where I get to play the heroine and I get to share romantic adventures with the hero. And those who's parts I've played in their love stories? They will be the strange characters in my love story, the boys who didn't love me enough or who lost my love, the boys I fell for but who weren't meant to stick around. They will be Sally's Joe, or Prince Humperdink (ha!) or Kathleen Kelly's Frank Navasky. Some of them will be Franks, the dutiful boys who would have stayed with me had I not let them go, but more of them are Joe's.
But for now I'll be Parker Posey or Judy Greer or (worse) James Marsden before 27 Dresses.
This is the story of the boys who loved you
Who love you now and loved you then
And some were sweet, some were cold and snuffed you
And some just laid around in bed.
Some had crumbled you straight to your knees
Did it cruel, did it tenderly
Some had crawled their way into your heart
To rend your ventricles apart
This is the story of the boys who loved you
This is the story of your red right ankle.
But wait, why does my story have to revolve around love and romance and relationships? Who said that the only story worth telling is about a man and a woman falling in love? Ok, everyone says that, it's all over our culture, everywhere you turn around. But do I have to buy that, hook, line, and sinker? Why should I write my story around someone else? What kind of a frail human actually holds that kind of power in my life, that I would want to write my story around him? Why should I believe that my biggest desire, my greatest source of fulfillment is in falling in love?
The first few paragraphs of this blog are sadly easier for me to feel and believe at times, but despite all the confusion I feel, I really do believe that the above paragraph is more true. That I have a life to live, and purpose to pursue and it's happening NOW, whether I'm single, engaged, married, a mother, a daughter, a student, a psychologist, a sister, whoever I am, I am me and I have so much to give and offer to those around me. I'm just as much me now as I would be me if I were married or with a Ph.D. in my hand. Why do we keep believing that single people are just married people who haven't found their "better half" yet? Why do I swallow these lies again and again?
Sometimes, I'm freed from those lies. I spent most of this semester remarkably happy to be single, loving my life and my relationships, and not even really desiring to be in a relationship, because having a dude around would just mess up all the good things I've got going on, and he's got to be really worth it for me to mess my life up for him. I wish I felt that happy and content this consistently now, but lately it still comes in moments and waves. It comes in moments when I'm surrounded by my family that loves me, when they wrap themselves around me with love and support. And it comes in quiet moments, when I sit on my bed and type and contemplate these things and when I stretch back onto my pillow and pray and remember that I have all that I need, that my Father doesn't withhold any good gifts from me, and that this is good. That it's good to be me, a student, a counselor, a friend, a sister, and I don't need to be anyone else right now. It's good. And those boys that loved me or who didn't love me? Well, it's good for them to be themselves, they're not some pawns in mine or anyone else's story, they're valuable humans created by God, just as I am. If I'm just a character in someone else's story, it's not a silly human fable, it's a divine story, a sacred story.
Besides, Parker Freakin' Posey is pretty freakin' fabulous.
Friday, January 15, 2010
Rubber and canvas
After working up my courage for three or four songs, I finally approached the attractive young man also looking out of place sporting Converse sneakers at a country and western dance hall. With a tap on the shoulder and a, "I like your shoes," our very brief conversation began. Immediately, I got a gay vibe from him. He didn't ask me to dance and I didn't ask him, and our conversation soon halted. He turned a smidge back towards his friends, and I quickly turned out and walked back to mine without even saying good-bye. Which I guess wasn't too rude considering that we had never said hello.
I don't know how guys do it. Err, at least sober guys. The drunk ones seem to have no trouble flirting, as they forget or mishear my name and call me "Debbie" and "Casey." Just the idea of asking someone to dance, not expecting more than a dance, makes me nervous. Sometimes I wish I were a guy and had the opportunity to be more forward with the opposite sex, but often I realize that it's harder than it looks, taking a certain gutsy vulnerability that I sometimes possess.
Looking back, I wished that I'd stayed and introduced myself to him and his friends. They seemed like a good bunch, just a group of friends having fun together, like my friends and I were. We probably would have found some things in common. Oh well, I'll keep dancing and keep my eye out for other fellow Converse souls and keep myself open to more possibilities of friendship and romance.
I don't know how guys do it. Err, at least sober guys. The drunk ones seem to have no trouble flirting, as they forget or mishear my name and call me "Debbie" and "Casey." Just the idea of asking someone to dance, not expecting more than a dance, makes me nervous. Sometimes I wish I were a guy and had the opportunity to be more forward with the opposite sex, but often I realize that it's harder than it looks, taking a certain gutsy vulnerability that I sometimes possess.
Looking back, I wished that I'd stayed and introduced myself to him and his friends. They seemed like a good bunch, just a group of friends having fun together, like my friends and I were. We probably would have found some things in common. Oh well, I'll keep dancing and keep my eye out for other fellow Converse souls and keep myself open to more possibilities of friendship and romance.
Monday, November 09, 2009
ooh, it, feels good to be free
I should have known today was going to be an eventful day as I drove into Huntsville, listening to the BBC radio coverage of the 20th anniversary celebrations of the fall of the Berlin wall, my eyes filled with tears. This is the second time I've cried this past month while listening to public radio news, the first being while listening to the speech of a female member of the Afghan's parliament's speech criticizing the parliament's relationship with warlords, that resulted in her removal from parliament and threats against her life and safety. I knew today was a special day being celebrated in a city that I recently visited, but I had no idea what a personal impact this Monday was going to much hold for me.
For starters, the most difficult client I've had thus far in my training abruptly terminated therapy with me in an entirely frustrating manner, but what else would I expect from someone whom myself and the staff suspect suffers from a personality disorder, who has caused us numerous frustrations over the past two months? I was downright pissed off this afternoon, but thankfully I have a wonderful staff to process it with and I'm thankful for the training opportunity that has challenged me and will provide fascinating answers to the internship interview question, "What has been your most challenging experience with a client and how did you handle it?" Though at this site we sarcastically use the term "training opportunity" for anything difficult that we don't want to do, I genuinely am thankful for this experience.
Then, I received freedom from all romantic involvements for the first time in over a year, and incredibly, by God's grace, it happened in the most positive way one could hope for - with clarity, kindness, understanding, gratitude, and forgiveness, without hurt, shame, anger, or regret. I'm so thankful for this. It feels good to be free, to be grateful for my current state, to be open to whatever or whomever will come into my life next. I know a time is likely to come soon when I will experience loneliness or long for a man's attention, but for now, I'm surprisingly downright euphoric about this new found freedom.
Finally, this evening I booked a 13 day tour over spring break in this country:
Home of the city no longer called Constantinople, the 7 churches of Revelation, the Byzantine Empire, the Ottoman Empire, Troy, Pergamum, seascapes that rival Greece's in beauty, incredibly hospitable people, and the furthest East I will have ever traveled. As you can imagine, I'm pretty incredibly stoked. Somehow, four months away, this trip doesn't even seem real to me yet, but I'm excited, and I'm sure it will sink in soon. Just last week, I also booked a trip to New Orleans with a good friend and then on to Oklahoma to visit other friends in January.
There's just something incredible about freedom, that people around the world will risk their lives and safety for it, that young women in Texas will dance joyfully and shamelessly to a favorite song when they receive it, that a god would send his son to death to secure it for his people.
For starters, the most difficult client I've had thus far in my training abruptly terminated therapy with me in an entirely frustrating manner, but what else would I expect from someone whom myself and the staff suspect suffers from a personality disorder, who has caused us numerous frustrations over the past two months? I was downright pissed off this afternoon, but thankfully I have a wonderful staff to process it with and I'm thankful for the training opportunity that has challenged me and will provide fascinating answers to the internship interview question, "What has been your most challenging experience with a client and how did you handle it?" Though at this site we sarcastically use the term "training opportunity" for anything difficult that we don't want to do, I genuinely am thankful for this experience.
Then, I received freedom from all romantic involvements for the first time in over a year, and incredibly, by God's grace, it happened in the most positive way one could hope for - with clarity, kindness, understanding, gratitude, and forgiveness, without hurt, shame, anger, or regret. I'm so thankful for this. It feels good to be free, to be grateful for my current state, to be open to whatever or whomever will come into my life next. I know a time is likely to come soon when I will experience loneliness or long for a man's attention, but for now, I'm surprisingly downright euphoric about this new found freedom.
Finally, this evening I booked a 13 day tour over spring break in this country:
Home of the city no longer called Constantinople, the 7 churches of Revelation, the Byzantine Empire, the Ottoman Empire, Troy, Pergamum, seascapes that rival Greece's in beauty, incredibly hospitable people, and the furthest East I will have ever traveled. As you can imagine, I'm pretty incredibly stoked. Somehow, four months away, this trip doesn't even seem real to me yet, but I'm excited, and I'm sure it will sink in soon. Just last week, I also booked a trip to New Orleans with a good friend and then on to Oklahoma to visit other friends in January.There's just something incredible about freedom, that people around the world will risk their lives and safety for it, that young women in Texas will dance joyfully and shamelessly to a favorite song when they receive it, that a god would send his son to death to secure it for his people.
Sunday, January 25, 2009
it is written
I've been back for over a week now, and wondering how to restart this blog thing again. Whenever I go away from it, it's always a little hard to know how to return. I've gotten out of the groove, and I lack inspiration. I know that you would probably enjoy reading about my trip, and I'd like to write more about it, but it's hard to know what to write without it becoming a list of my itinerary, and Ben has already written some great posts about Amsterdam, that what could my writings add? My perspective, I suppose, but a lot of my perspective from the trip is best shared one-on-one, and not through a blog. Instead, I found other inspiration this morning.
Last night, I saw Slumdog Millionaire. If you haven't seen it, please see it as soon as possible! I'm going to do my best to talk vaguely about plots points and avoid giving any spoilers, but if you'd prefer to wait to read this until you've seen it, then wait. One of the friends I'd seen it with had already seen it before, and she told me about things that she hadn't noticed the first time, like the depth and complexity of one of the main characters, and how even from childhood, you see the changes that this character undergoes.
This morning, I found myself thinking about the female character from Slumdog, Latika. This movie is many things, and it is most definitely a rescuing the damsel in distress story. When I reflected on that this morning, at first it irked my quasi-feministic side. Why couldn't Latika rescue herself? Why was she so dang submissive toward the men in her life? Why couldn't she have been a more dynamic character, like the boys in the film? But the more I thought about it, she was indeed a complex character. I believe that feminism is about choice, and at a key point in the movie, Latika makes a difficult choice, a choice that probably saves someone else's life, and a choice that leads her to continue her life of submission and degradation by men.
I continued to reflect on this damsel in distress aspect of the plot more, and thought that really, it was a beautiful love story. In our heart of hearts, all women (and probably men too) want this kind of love, of a man who never forgets her. Years may pass, but she is still the love of his life, and he continues searching for her, and will never be satisfied until his love is safe in his arms. He's willing to put himself through danger, and do whatever it takes to be with her. A couple of times in the film, someone asks, "What? Not her again," and encourages the main character to give up on chasing after her. Yes, her, who else but her? No one will compare, and he will continue after her, never giving up hope that they will be together again. Gosh, who doesn't want that?
And I've never been one to get a lot out of the imagery of Christ as the bridegroom, and the church as the bride, but thinking about this film this morning, that image clicked with me. I saw the gospel in this film. I saw a woman, so defiled, so degraded, living with the enemy, first being forced into this awful lifestyle, and then choosing to stay in it. And I saw a man, who loves her infinitely, and more than that, he looks at her and doesn't see her lifestyle, doesn't see the ugliness of her actions and the actions against her, but he sees her for who she is, he sees her as beautiful and pure, and because he does, that is how us, the audience sees her. She's radiant and gorgeous.
Last night, I saw Slumdog Millionaire. If you haven't seen it, please see it as soon as possible! I'm going to do my best to talk vaguely about plots points and avoid giving any spoilers, but if you'd prefer to wait to read this until you've seen it, then wait. One of the friends I'd seen it with had already seen it before, and she told me about things that she hadn't noticed the first time, like the depth and complexity of one of the main characters, and how even from childhood, you see the changes that this character undergoes.
This morning, I found myself thinking about the female character from Slumdog, Latika. This movie is many things, and it is most definitely a rescuing the damsel in distress story. When I reflected on that this morning, at first it irked my quasi-feministic side. Why couldn't Latika rescue herself? Why was she so dang submissive toward the men in her life? Why couldn't she have been a more dynamic character, like the boys in the film? But the more I thought about it, she was indeed a complex character. I believe that feminism is about choice, and at a key point in the movie, Latika makes a difficult choice, a choice that probably saves someone else's life, and a choice that leads her to continue her life of submission and degradation by men.
I continued to reflect on this damsel in distress aspect of the plot more, and thought that really, it was a beautiful love story. In our heart of hearts, all women (and probably men too) want this kind of love, of a man who never forgets her. Years may pass, but she is still the love of his life, and he continues searching for her, and will never be satisfied until his love is safe in his arms. He's willing to put himself through danger, and do whatever it takes to be with her. A couple of times in the film, someone asks, "What? Not her again," and encourages the main character to give up on chasing after her. Yes, her, who else but her? No one will compare, and he will continue after her, never giving up hope that they will be together again. Gosh, who doesn't want that?
And I've never been one to get a lot out of the imagery of Christ as the bridegroom, and the church as the bride, but thinking about this film this morning, that image clicked with me. I saw the gospel in this film. I saw a woman, so defiled, so degraded, living with the enemy, first being forced into this awful lifestyle, and then choosing to stay in it. And I saw a man, who loves her infinitely, and more than that, he looks at her and doesn't see her lifestyle, doesn't see the ugliness of her actions and the actions against her, but he sees her for who she is, he sees her as beautiful and pure, and because he does, that is how us, the audience sees her. She's radiant and gorgeous.
Tuesday, July 22, 2008
cappucinos and Kierkegaard, in which our heroine falls for a philosophizing fellow
Once again, Cara said this was good blogging material, so here goes . . .
This past April, on the heels of a breakup, a new guy, erm man, actually, moved into town and started working at the coffee shop that I frequent. At the sight of his baby blue eyes behind those black plastic-rimmed glasses, paired with a big bright smile, I knew that I had to find out more about this pearl-snap wearing hipster. Turns out this hipster-looking dude is also a huge nerd, trying to get into a doctorate program here to study philosophy. We talked a little Freud, existentialism, Nietzsche, Kierkegaard, and theology, and I was licking my intellectual-loving lips. Could it be? An intellectual who writes papers and smokes cigars who actually has a personality and sense of humor and fashion sense and loves Jesus and plays Guitar Hero, and he's working at my coffee shop? How could I not be swooning?
Fortunately for my poor confused heart at the time, I didn't see him again until June, but I still remembered the impression that he made on me. Over the past month, we've continued to have more conversations, mostly about philosophy, theology, religion, or psychology, but also about coffee, music, movies, fashion, the fourth of july, television, education, and sometimes about things from our personal life, our family, or friends. I learned that he was living on his sister's couch, frequently awoken by his two year old niece, and is waiting to find his own place until he gets officially accepted into this doctoral program. I learned that he has a younger brother who was previously a meth addict, whom he cared for over several years, starting when he was 23, which quickly matured him. In this same conversation, I learned that he was significantly older than I realized, when he mentioned that he just moved here from living in Abilene for 12 years, where he spent "almost a third," of his life. I learned that his parents were divorced when he told me that his dad and stepmom came to visit for the fourth of July.
Most of the time, these conversations occurred with him on the other side of the counter, but often he would come approach me at my table where I sat and studied, and twice he sat down with me before or after his shift and talked to me for almost an hour. Mostly he talked about his latest philosophical revelation and I questioned and listened and tried to relate it to my experiences. Not gonna lie, a lot of it went over my head, and a lot of the conversations were rather one sided, but he would get so happy and animated about these things, that I just got sucked right in. One time during one of these conversations, his sister came up and I met her.
We soon built a friendly rapport with one another, and frequently joked and made one another laugh. I wasn't getting strong signals of interest from him, but occasionally he would do things that could border on flirtation, like last week when he came over to my couch, complimented my shirt, made me origami out of a napkin, which made me laugh, then returned to his counter saying, "Well, if you have any questions about Heidegger, you know where to find me!" Friendly? Very. Flirty? Meh, possibly. A few of my friends observed our interactions together, and agreed that he was very friendly with me, possibly flirty, possibly interested in me, but maybe just being friendly.
I was crushing on him, but definitely had my reservations. The biggest problem I had was how much he talks about his own ideas versus how little he asks me about my life and my thoughts. Not only was this a sign that he wasn't interested in me, but also not a quality that I admire nor want in a relationship. Because of this, I had a hard time actually picturing myself in a relationship with him, but crushes can be pleasant distractions, and I was enjoying the attention, so I continued the interactions, with several prayers throughout.
This past Friday, I was planning on going to a concert on Saturday, but hadn't found anyone to go with me yet. I'd told several friends about it, so he was discussing a concert, so I told him about it and asked if he wanted to go. "Actually," he replied, "I sort of have a concert of my own Saturday evening." "Oh really?" "Yeah, my sister just got the Aerosmith version of Guitar Hero, so she's having some friends over, and it's my duty to unlock all of the songs for them." That was it, and I was frustrated. Does he not realize that I had just asked him out? The cute smart blond customer who he's been talking and laughing with for the past month just asked him to go to a concert, and it didn't even phase him? Believe it or not, but it takes a lot for me to ask a guy to do something with me. I always prefer the man to make the first move, but based on a recent conversation with a friend, I decided that it was ok to make the first move, if he picked up the ball and ran with it. If he didn't grab the ball, then I'd know that he either wasn't interested or wasn't worth bothering with. I decided that I better accept what I'd felt all along in my gut - he really just isn't interested in me as more than a customer to chat with. He doesn't like me, he just likes having someone to talk with. But throughout the weekend, he was there when I arrived, and we continued having nice, fun, interesting conversations, and his friendliness continued, and the crushing continued.
Last night I arrived to work on a paper, and he was there, as friendly as ever, "Hey, I have to tell you something that I realized today!" and he began discussing Fear and Trembling across the cash register. At the end of his thoughts, smile stretching ear to ear, he stated, "I'm so glad I could share that with you!" I just laughed and said, "Yeah, I can tell that you really love this and really enjoy these conversations, you're in the right field for you!" A little later in the evening, I told him more about the case presentation I was working on, and we hypothesized a little about one of my clients. Some Mormon missionaries came in, and he told me that they witnessed to him. "Oh, are you converted now?" I asked. "No, I decided I don't want to have more than one wife." "Me neither. Actually, I don't want to have a wife at all." He laughed, "Yeah, I was wondering." "Actually, I wouldn't mind having a wife, someone to do my cooking and cleaning for me would be nice." "Yeah, it seems that in my relationships, we've always joked that I was the wife because I wound up doing most of the cooking and cleaning." My classmate Keisha came in, and sat at a table next to me, "How are things with the cowboy?" (He sometimes wears a straw cowboy hat). "Oh, I don't know, we've still been chatting, but I asked him to go to this concert, but he had other plans." "Did he tell you what those plans were?" "Yeah." "Well, that's better than just saying, 'Oh, I have plans,' and being vague about it. I say you ask him to hang out one more time, and if he doesn't respond well, that's it, you drop him." Yes mam.
The shop closes at 11, and around 10:20 I walked out the door to go grab a book from my car. He was having a conversation with another guy, but he stopped to ask me, "Are you leaving?" "No, not yet, I've just got to grab something from my car." "Ok, good. You're not allowed to leave yet. I won't let you." I smiled, "I'm just going to get a big scary book called the DSM-IV-TR." "Oh yeah, I've read it." "You've read it?" Why would anyone but a mental health professional read the diagnostic and statistical of mental disorders? This confused me, but in no way did I anticipate his response, "Yeah, my wife was a psychology major."
My wife. Was a psychology major. I can think of dozens of things he could have said that would have shocked me less than that statement. "I was committed to a psychiatric ward once," "I'm a convicted felon," "I think I'm gay," "I sacrifice lambs," or "Let's have a threesome," would have shocked me less. "My wife." I wonder if I looked like a deer in headlights. He continued talking but I didn't hear a word he said because my thoughts were spinning. He has a wife. No wedding ring. Sleeps on his sister's couch. Never mentioned her. He has a wife. I finally snapped out of the whirlwind of cognitions to ask, "So, your wife was a psych major, what does she do now?" "Actually, haha, she works at Wal-Mart. That's what happens when you switch from psychology to English without finishing either."
I soon found myself outside, trying to process all of this. All of our conversations, and no mention of the wife until now? There would be plenty of appropriate times for him to have mentioned it. "Oh, you study counseling psychology. My wife studied psychology." "Yeah, it seems that in my relationships, we've always joked that I was the wife because I wound up doing most of the cooking and cleaning. Now my wife and I take turns cleaning." "Yes, I had a great Fourth of July! I stayed here, but my dad and stepmom came down to visit. My wife had the day off too." "So, I can't come to the concert, I actually have other plans. My wife and I are playing Guitar Hero with my sister and her friends." "Yeah, this band plays there every Thursday night. It's also ladies' night, which means that ladies get in free. My wife loves it when she can get in free." "No, the Mormons didn't convert me, I've got one wife and that's enough for me!" "I can't wait to have my own place, have my own privacy again so I can throw wild parties and have wild sex with my wife." Ok, that last one wasn't such appropriate coffee shop talk, but you get the picture.
I paced around the parking lot, feeling a disappointed, but mostly shocked, confused, and angry. Have I just been stupid, completely misreading him? Did I bring this upon myself? Was he leading me on? Why didn't the little bugger tell me he was married? Why doesn't he wear a ring? Why has he been so friendly toward me? I texted Keisha. She was shocked, I wanted to say something to him, but she assured me this was a bad idea. I finally went back inside, and sat next to Keisha, who told me, "That is wack! This dude is really suspect. Even when you walked out, he was checking you up and down!" "I don't know, this is crazy, but I used to work at a coffee shop, and all the time guys would mistake my friendliness for something else. Maybe that's what I've done. I've just misinterpretted him. He's just friendly to his customers, and I took it too far." "No, listen, he's friendly to me, ok? But he's really friendly with you. He doesn't come over here and have little chats with me." And sure enough, he soon came over, and wanted to look at my DSM. He thumbed through it, and told me a story about how his wife had diagnosed a character from a novel, though he couldn't remember the diagnosis. When he first walked up, I wished he would walk away, but there he started, smiling, telling his story, and I got into it and wanted to listen to him. It was nauseating. After he left, Keisha started off again, "See? He has a wife and he does not need to be coming over here."
This was so distracting, I left soon afterward. I said by to him and the other dude behind the counter. "Alright," he told, "You can leave now, I wasn't going to let you leave before 10:45." Part of me thought that was really cute, but a bigger part of me was screaming, "You perv!" So, this is weird. I definitely don't have a crush on him anymore, and I'm not even that sad or disappointed, more just confused, feel stupid, and feel really annoyed at him. I definitely need to change my interactions with him, and probably should stay away from this coffee shop for a little while. When I do return, I can talk to him at the counter, but that's it. No more wandering over to the counter to continue our conversations, and if he comes to my table, I can ask him about his wife or something. Boundaries need to be set up, if not for him, definitely for me.
I can be appropriately friendly with married men, but only when I know the boundaries in my head and in my heart. The owner of this coffee shop is married, but I knew this from the beginning, and I know his wife too, so we talk, we laugh, he invited me to go see the Dark Knight with them, but none of this is weird because I knew all along that he was married. He is attractive, but I've never once felt attracted to him because knowing that he was married created boundaries for me. I think about and act differently toward men that I assume to be single than toward men that I know to be married. But when a married man presents himself as single, or at least doesn't present himself as married, I treated him like a single man, which involved being attracted to him and flirting with him. Ugh, the whole thing just leaves a sour taste in my mouth.
So there we go, another little glimpse inside my romantic universe that some of my friends like to live vicariously through (why? it's so weird in this section of the cosmos!). Apparently I'm no better at judging the relationship status of men than I am at judging their ages. Worst crush ever? Yes. Worse than crushing on an ex-boyfriend, or crushing on an ex-boyfriend's best friend or roommate, or crushing on the boy that then tells me he wants to date my best friend, or crushing on the pot-smoking atheist in my high school stats class, or crushing on the skater guy who dropped out of a college and has family issues, who also probably smoked weed. Crushing on the married 30-something year old tops them all. And because it's probably my worst crush ever, and because Cara told me that this would be good blog material, and that it would help me feel better about things, I've just written a ridiculously long post about it. I feel like my blog could become some sort of Sex and the City-esque column. Minus the sex, unfortunately. I hope you found this entertaining, because in the midst of the weirdness of it all, I find myself very entertained at the absurdity. I hope you don't think I'm a silly pathetic girl, because I kind of am, but I sure don't want to be. I hope you feel annoyed at this dude and want to grab his adorable plastic-framed glasses, and smash them between his copies of Time and Being and What Would Jesus Deconstruct, and then pour espresso all over the mess, and then run over it with his ugly truck with the "Don't Mess with Texas" bumper sticker on the back window, because I sorta do, but I'd rather someone else do it for me.
This past April, on the heels of a breakup, a new guy, erm man, actually, moved into town and started working at the coffee shop that I frequent. At the sight of his baby blue eyes behind those black plastic-rimmed glasses, paired with a big bright smile, I knew that I had to find out more about this pearl-snap wearing hipster. Turns out this hipster-looking dude is also a huge nerd, trying to get into a doctorate program here to study philosophy. We talked a little Freud, existentialism, Nietzsche, Kierkegaard, and theology, and I was licking my intellectual-loving lips. Could it be? An intellectual who writes papers and smokes cigars who actually has a personality and sense of humor and fashion sense and loves Jesus and plays Guitar Hero, and he's working at my coffee shop? How could I not be swooning?
Fortunately for my poor confused heart at the time, I didn't see him again until June, but I still remembered the impression that he made on me. Over the past month, we've continued to have more conversations, mostly about philosophy, theology, religion, or psychology, but also about coffee, music, movies, fashion, the fourth of july, television, education, and sometimes about things from our personal life, our family, or friends. I learned that he was living on his sister's couch, frequently awoken by his two year old niece, and is waiting to find his own place until he gets officially accepted into this doctoral program. I learned that he has a younger brother who was previously a meth addict, whom he cared for over several years, starting when he was 23, which quickly matured him. In this same conversation, I learned that he was significantly older than I realized, when he mentioned that he just moved here from living in Abilene for 12 years, where he spent "almost a third," of his life. I learned that his parents were divorced when he told me that his dad and stepmom came to visit for the fourth of July.
Most of the time, these conversations occurred with him on the other side of the counter, but often he would come approach me at my table where I sat and studied, and twice he sat down with me before or after his shift and talked to me for almost an hour. Mostly he talked about his latest philosophical revelation and I questioned and listened and tried to relate it to my experiences. Not gonna lie, a lot of it went over my head, and a lot of the conversations were rather one sided, but he would get so happy and animated about these things, that I just got sucked right in. One time during one of these conversations, his sister came up and I met her.
We soon built a friendly rapport with one another, and frequently joked and made one another laugh. I wasn't getting strong signals of interest from him, but occasionally he would do things that could border on flirtation, like last week when he came over to my couch, complimented my shirt, made me origami out of a napkin, which made me laugh, then returned to his counter saying, "Well, if you have any questions about Heidegger, you know where to find me!" Friendly? Very. Flirty? Meh, possibly. A few of my friends observed our interactions together, and agreed that he was very friendly with me, possibly flirty, possibly interested in me, but maybe just being friendly.
I was crushing on him, but definitely had my reservations. The biggest problem I had was how much he talks about his own ideas versus how little he asks me about my life and my thoughts. Not only was this a sign that he wasn't interested in me, but also not a quality that I admire nor want in a relationship. Because of this, I had a hard time actually picturing myself in a relationship with him, but crushes can be pleasant distractions, and I was enjoying the attention, so I continued the interactions, with several prayers throughout.
This past Friday, I was planning on going to a concert on Saturday, but hadn't found anyone to go with me yet. I'd told several friends about it, so he was discussing a concert, so I told him about it and asked if he wanted to go. "Actually," he replied, "I sort of have a concert of my own Saturday evening." "Oh really?" "Yeah, my sister just got the Aerosmith version of Guitar Hero, so she's having some friends over, and it's my duty to unlock all of the songs for them." That was it, and I was frustrated. Does he not realize that I had just asked him out? The cute smart blond customer who he's been talking and laughing with for the past month just asked him to go to a concert, and it didn't even phase him? Believe it or not, but it takes a lot for me to ask a guy to do something with me. I always prefer the man to make the first move, but based on a recent conversation with a friend, I decided that it was ok to make the first move, if he picked up the ball and ran with it. If he didn't grab the ball, then I'd know that he either wasn't interested or wasn't worth bothering with. I decided that I better accept what I'd felt all along in my gut - he really just isn't interested in me as more than a customer to chat with. He doesn't like me, he just likes having someone to talk with. But throughout the weekend, he was there when I arrived, and we continued having nice, fun, interesting conversations, and his friendliness continued, and the crushing continued.
Last night I arrived to work on a paper, and he was there, as friendly as ever, "Hey, I have to tell you something that I realized today!" and he began discussing Fear and Trembling across the cash register. At the end of his thoughts, smile stretching ear to ear, he stated, "I'm so glad I could share that with you!" I just laughed and said, "Yeah, I can tell that you really love this and really enjoy these conversations, you're in the right field for you!" A little later in the evening, I told him more about the case presentation I was working on, and we hypothesized a little about one of my clients. Some Mormon missionaries came in, and he told me that they witnessed to him. "Oh, are you converted now?" I asked. "No, I decided I don't want to have more than one wife." "Me neither. Actually, I don't want to have a wife at all." He laughed, "Yeah, I was wondering." "Actually, I wouldn't mind having a wife, someone to do my cooking and cleaning for me would be nice." "Yeah, it seems that in my relationships, we've always joked that I was the wife because I wound up doing most of the cooking and cleaning." My classmate Keisha came in, and sat at a table next to me, "How are things with the cowboy?" (He sometimes wears a straw cowboy hat). "Oh, I don't know, we've still been chatting, but I asked him to go to this concert, but he had other plans." "Did he tell you what those plans were?" "Yeah." "Well, that's better than just saying, 'Oh, I have plans,' and being vague about it. I say you ask him to hang out one more time, and if he doesn't respond well, that's it, you drop him." Yes mam.
The shop closes at 11, and around 10:20 I walked out the door to go grab a book from my car. He was having a conversation with another guy, but he stopped to ask me, "Are you leaving?" "No, not yet, I've just got to grab something from my car." "Ok, good. You're not allowed to leave yet. I won't let you." I smiled, "I'm just going to get a big scary book called the DSM-IV-TR." "Oh yeah, I've read it." "You've read it?" Why would anyone but a mental health professional read the diagnostic and statistical of mental disorders? This confused me, but in no way did I anticipate his response, "Yeah, my wife was a psychology major."
My wife. Was a psychology major. I can think of dozens of things he could have said that would have shocked me less than that statement. "I was committed to a psychiatric ward once," "I'm a convicted felon," "I think I'm gay," "I sacrifice lambs," or "Let's have a threesome," would have shocked me less. "My wife." I wonder if I looked like a deer in headlights. He continued talking but I didn't hear a word he said because my thoughts were spinning. He has a wife. No wedding ring. Sleeps on his sister's couch. Never mentioned her. He has a wife. I finally snapped out of the whirlwind of cognitions to ask, "So, your wife was a psych major, what does she do now?" "Actually, haha, she works at Wal-Mart. That's what happens when you switch from psychology to English without finishing either."
I soon found myself outside, trying to process all of this. All of our conversations, and no mention of the wife until now? There would be plenty of appropriate times for him to have mentioned it. "Oh, you study counseling psychology. My wife studied psychology." "Yeah, it seems that in my relationships, we've always joked that I was the wife because I wound up doing most of the cooking and cleaning. Now my wife and I take turns cleaning." "Yes, I had a great Fourth of July! I stayed here, but my dad and stepmom came down to visit. My wife had the day off too." "So, I can't come to the concert, I actually have other plans. My wife and I are playing Guitar Hero with my sister and her friends." "Yeah, this band plays there every Thursday night. It's also ladies' night, which means that ladies get in free. My wife loves it when she can get in free." "No, the Mormons didn't convert me, I've got one wife and that's enough for me!" "I can't wait to have my own place, have my own privacy again so I can throw wild parties and have wild sex with my wife." Ok, that last one wasn't such appropriate coffee shop talk, but you get the picture.
I paced around the parking lot, feeling a disappointed, but mostly shocked, confused, and angry. Have I just been stupid, completely misreading him? Did I bring this upon myself? Was he leading me on? Why didn't the little bugger tell me he was married? Why doesn't he wear a ring? Why has he been so friendly toward me? I texted Keisha. She was shocked, I wanted to say something to him, but she assured me this was a bad idea. I finally went back inside, and sat next to Keisha, who told me, "That is wack! This dude is really suspect. Even when you walked out, he was checking you up and down!" "I don't know, this is crazy, but I used to work at a coffee shop, and all the time guys would mistake my friendliness for something else. Maybe that's what I've done. I've just misinterpretted him. He's just friendly to his customers, and I took it too far." "No, listen, he's friendly to me, ok? But he's really friendly with you. He doesn't come over here and have little chats with me." And sure enough, he soon came over, and wanted to look at my DSM. He thumbed through it, and told me a story about how his wife had diagnosed a character from a novel, though he couldn't remember the diagnosis. When he first walked up, I wished he would walk away, but there he started, smiling, telling his story, and I got into it and wanted to listen to him. It was nauseating. After he left, Keisha started off again, "See? He has a wife and he does not need to be coming over here."
This was so distracting, I left soon afterward. I said by to him and the other dude behind the counter. "Alright," he told, "You can leave now, I wasn't going to let you leave before 10:45." Part of me thought that was really cute, but a bigger part of me was screaming, "You perv!" So, this is weird. I definitely don't have a crush on him anymore, and I'm not even that sad or disappointed, more just confused, feel stupid, and feel really annoyed at him. I definitely need to change my interactions with him, and probably should stay away from this coffee shop for a little while. When I do return, I can talk to him at the counter, but that's it. No more wandering over to the counter to continue our conversations, and if he comes to my table, I can ask him about his wife or something. Boundaries need to be set up, if not for him, definitely for me.
I can be appropriately friendly with married men, but only when I know the boundaries in my head and in my heart. The owner of this coffee shop is married, but I knew this from the beginning, and I know his wife too, so we talk, we laugh, he invited me to go see the Dark Knight with them, but none of this is weird because I knew all along that he was married. He is attractive, but I've never once felt attracted to him because knowing that he was married created boundaries for me. I think about and act differently toward men that I assume to be single than toward men that I know to be married. But when a married man presents himself as single, or at least doesn't present himself as married, I treated him like a single man, which involved being attracted to him and flirting with him. Ugh, the whole thing just leaves a sour taste in my mouth.
So there we go, another little glimpse inside my romantic universe that some of my friends like to live vicariously through (why? it's so weird in this section of the cosmos!). Apparently I'm no better at judging the relationship status of men than I am at judging their ages. Worst crush ever? Yes. Worse than crushing on an ex-boyfriend, or crushing on an ex-boyfriend's best friend or roommate, or crushing on the boy that then tells me he wants to date my best friend, or crushing on the pot-smoking atheist in my high school stats class, or crushing on the skater guy who dropped out of a college and has family issues, who also probably smoked weed. Crushing on the married 30-something year old tops them all. And because it's probably my worst crush ever, and because Cara told me that this would be good blog material, and that it would help me feel better about things, I've just written a ridiculously long post about it. I feel like my blog could become some sort of Sex and the City-esque column. Minus the sex, unfortunately. I hope you found this entertaining, because in the midst of the weirdness of it all, I find myself very entertained at the absurdity. I hope you don't think I'm a silly pathetic girl, because I kind of am, but I sure don't want to be. I hope you feel annoyed at this dude and want to grab his adorable plastic-framed glasses, and smash them between his copies of Time and Being and What Would Jesus Deconstruct, and then pour espresso all over the mess, and then run over it with his ugly truck with the "Don't Mess with Texas" bumper sticker on the back window, because I sorta do, but I'd rather someone else do it for me.
Sunday, June 15, 2008
Fathers in Film: My Fantasy?
Sorta a Dads in Media follow up.
Two days ago, my friend and I were walking around Target, when we got on the conversation of Jack Black. She mentioned his role in The Holiday, so I had to ask,
Me: Who would you have preferred, Jude Law's character, or Jack Black's character?
Her: Oh, Jack Black's, definitely!
Me: Good, me too!
Her: Jude Law's character really did nothing for me. Well, except when he was with his daughters. That was kind of appealing.
Me: Yeah, but even with that, I definitely would have picked Jack Black over him.
Her: So, what movie character would you most want to be with?
Hmm, this was a tough question. I started thinking through my favorite movies, especially romantic movies. Lloyd Dobbler from Say Anything first came to mind, and as much as I love that fillm, I would never ever want that relationship. Then I thought of Glen Hansard's character from Once, but once again, I felt no strong draw toward him. All these young, romantic guys, but none of them seemed to have much depth or maturity to make me actually want to be in a relationship with them. After two strikes, I had an answer.
Me: Maybe Steve Carrell's character from Dan in Real Life?
Her: Really? I could see that.
Me: Yeah, he's funny and romantic, but he's also a great father and really loves his family.
I began thinking through more of my favorite movies . . .
Me: And maybe Mel Gibson's character from Signs, but at the end of the movie, not before then.
Her: Huh, interesting that you picked two fathers. Is your biological clock ticking?
Me: Haha, no, I don't think so. It's just that when I think of younger men from movies I like, none of them seem to have much depth or maturity. These characters are mature*, and have depth, and life experience, and because they're fathers and love their children, you know that they're responsible and capable of being in a loving, committed relationship.
Her: True, you're right. Even Ewan McGregor's character from Moulin Rouge, he's so great, but I wouldn't actually want to be in a relationship with him. He'd be too emotional for me.
Interesting that both these characters I mentioned were widows, and even the one aspect of Jude Law's character that we liked was him being a widowed father. I saw The Holiday in the dollar theatre with this same friend, and I remember the scene where Cameron Diaz discovers about his children, she asks, "Divorced?" He replied, "Widowed," and my friend immediately said, "That's hot!"
It's interesting that whenever Hollywood portrays a father as a romantic lead, he's almost always widowed, not divorced. Can you think of any divorced fathers as romantic characters? Harry from When Harry Met Sally was divorced, but had no children. This probably isn't true to our society, there are probably many more divorced fathers than widowed fathers, but perhaps widowed fathers are more likely to actually be raising their children, whereas in most divorces, mom has the custody. But I think it's more than that, I don't think Hollywood likes the idea of divorced parents with children as romantic leads. There's just too much baggage, the heroine would have to worry about the ex-wife and the kids' mom, just make the mom dead, and all is fair game! Don't worry about whether or not the father and his children have resolved their grief, she's not in the picture, he's a safe and appealing romantic lead. When I try to think of a movie about a divorced dad, I first think of Robin Williams in Mrs. Doubtfire, but I don't think he had any romance in the film. Let's face it, widowers hot, divorcees not.
Still, it's interesting to me that the most appealing men in cinema are fathers. Sure, almost every film has some sort of attractive male lead with desirable qualities. But despite how attractive they may be to me, these young, single men always have some deadly flaw: they're too cocky, too emotional, too needy, too scared, too immature etc. But add some children to that hollywood picture, and those flaws are instantly balanced with responsibility, love, trust, and (gasp!) maturity. Even the most noble and heroic men in film (Wesley from the Princess Bride, Aragon from LOTR, etc), exist in worlds so different from my own, while I can easily fantasize about being Buttercup or Arwen (I actually do fantasize about being Arwen, but for spiritual, not romantic reasons), I just can't imagine one of these men here in my world, with me. Seriously, what would Aragon be to me here in College Station, TX? He wouldn't be the rightful king, saving hobbits, racing his horse, wielding his sword. Seriously, what would he be doing? Would he be in the Corps? Heaven help me, please no! Anything that was appealing about him is completely lost in translation.
Same goes with action heroes. Does any girl really have an actual crush on James Bond? Action heroes are made to fulfill men's fantasies, not women's. Though I have to admit, Indiana Jones wouldn't make such a bad partner. Were Indy just a whip wielding treasure hunter adventurer, he wouldn't hold much appeal for me. But no, Indy is also Dr. Jones, the professor. So there we go, my desire for adventure, danger, confidence, excitement, fun, humor, romance, and sex appeal, balanced with intelligence, a little nerdiness, depth, responsibility, making a difference in other's lives, etc. I'm feeling pretty good about this choice, especially if Dr. Jones brought his whip to the honeymoon ;)
*Thinking about it now, I'm not sure that all of Steve Carrell's actions in Dan in Real Life could be described as "mature," though he was a pretty swell father and a loving man.
Two days ago, my friend and I were walking around Target, when we got on the conversation of Jack Black. She mentioned his role in The Holiday, so I had to ask,Me: Who would you have preferred, Jude Law's character, or Jack Black's character?
Her: Oh, Jack Black's, definitely!
Me: Good, me too!
Her: Jude Law's character really did nothing for me. Well, except when he was with his daughters. That was kind of appealing.
Me: Yeah, but even with that, I definitely would have picked Jack Black over him.
Her: So, what movie character would you most want to be with?
Hmm, this was a tough question. I started thinking through my favorite movies, especially romantic movies. Lloyd Dobbler from Say Anything first came to mind, and as much as I love that fillm, I would never ever want that relationship. Then I thought of Glen Hansard's character from Once, but once again, I felt no strong draw toward him. All these young, romantic guys, but none of them seemed to have much depth or maturity to make me actually want to be in a relationship with them. After two strikes, I had an answer.
Me: Maybe Steve Carrell's character from Dan in Real Life?
Her: Really? I could see that.
Me: Yeah, he's funny and romantic, but he's also a great father and really loves his family.
I began thinking through more of my favorite movies . . .
Me: And maybe Mel Gibson's character from Signs, but at the end of the movie, not before then.Her: Huh, interesting that you picked two fathers. Is your biological clock ticking?
Me: Haha, no, I don't think so. It's just that when I think of younger men from movies I like, none of them seem to have much depth or maturity. These characters are mature*, and have depth, and life experience, and because they're fathers and love their children, you know that they're responsible and capable of being in a loving, committed relationship.
Her: True, you're right. Even Ewan McGregor's character from Moulin Rouge, he's so great, but I wouldn't actually want to be in a relationship with him. He'd be too emotional for me.
Interesting that both these characters I mentioned were widows, and even the one aspect of Jude Law's character that we liked was him being a widowed father. I saw The Holiday in the dollar theatre with this same friend, and I remember the scene where Cameron Diaz discovers about his children, she asks, "Divorced?" He replied, "Widowed," and my friend immediately said, "That's hot!"
It's interesting that whenever Hollywood portrays a father as a romantic lead, he's almost always widowed, not divorced. Can you think of any divorced fathers as romantic characters? Harry from When Harry Met Sally was divorced, but had no children. This probably isn't true to our society, there are probably many more divorced fathers than widowed fathers, but perhaps widowed fathers are more likely to actually be raising their children, whereas in most divorces, mom has the custody. But I think it's more than that, I don't think Hollywood likes the idea of divorced parents with children as romantic leads. There's just too much baggage, the heroine would have to worry about the ex-wife and the kids' mom, just make the mom dead, and all is fair game! Don't worry about whether or not the father and his children have resolved their grief, she's not in the picture, he's a safe and appealing romantic lead. When I try to think of a movie about a divorced dad, I first think of Robin Williams in Mrs. Doubtfire, but I don't think he had any romance in the film. Let's face it, widowers hot, divorcees not.
Still, it's interesting to me that the most appealing men in cinema are fathers. Sure, almost every film has some sort of attractive male lead with desirable qualities. But despite how attractive they may be to me, these young, single men always have some deadly flaw: they're too cocky, too emotional, too needy, too scared, too immature etc. But add some children to that hollywood picture, and those flaws are instantly balanced with responsibility, love, trust, and (gasp!) maturity. Even the most noble and heroic men in film (Wesley from the Princess Bride, Aragon from LOTR, etc), exist in worlds so different from my own, while I can easily fantasize about being Buttercup or Arwen (I actually do fantasize about being Arwen, but for spiritual, not romantic reasons), I just can't imagine one of these men here in my world, with me. Seriously, what would Aragon be to me here in College Station, TX? He wouldn't be the rightful king, saving hobbits, racing his horse, wielding his sword. Seriously, what would he be doing? Would he be in the Corps? Heaven help me, please no! Anything that was appealing about him is completely lost in translation.
Same goes with action heroes. Does any girl really have an actual crush on James Bond? Action heroes are made to fulfill men's fantasies, not women's. Though I have to admit, Indiana Jones wouldn't make such a bad partner. Were Indy just a whip wielding treasure hunter adventurer, he wouldn't hold much appeal for me. But no, Indy is also Dr. Jones, the professor. So there we go, my desire for adventure, danger, confidence, excitement, fun, humor, romance, and sex appeal, balanced with intelligence, a little nerdiness, depth, responsibility, making a difference in other's lives, etc. I'm feeling pretty good about this choice, especially if Dr. Jones brought his whip to the honeymoon ;)*Thinking about it now, I'm not sure that all of Steve Carrell's actions in Dan in Real Life could be described as "mature," though he was a pretty swell father and a loving man.
Tuesday, April 15, 2008
He will rejoice over you with singing
"Sing, O Daughter of Zion;
shout aloud, O Israel!
Be glad and rejoice with all your heart,
O Daughter of Jerusalem!
The LORD has taken away your punishment,
The LORD has taken away your punishment,
he has turned back your enemy.
The LORD, the King of Israel, is with you;
never again will you fear any harm.
On that day they will say to Jerusalem,
'Do not fear, O Zion;
do not let your hands hang limp.
The LORD your God is with you,
The LORD your God is with you,
he is mighty to save.
He will take great delight in you,
he will quiet you with his love,
he will rejoice over you with singing.' "
Zephaniah 3:14-17
Monday at a women's meeting with my church, those words were poured out over my friend Natalie. She described feeling oppressed by shame and fear, by lies that her family had told her, that were keeping her from experiencing God's love and affection from others. Praying over her, praying for freedom, praying against this oppression, was a truly beautiful experience. We prayed, we cried, we laughed, words of truth were spoken, metaphors were described, images were imagined, scripture was read, song lyrics were quoted. There's really no way to describe it. Just imagine, one small blonde girl sitting on her knees, crying, blowing her nose, and at least 20 other women, Arwens, unwilling to let our friend, our sister, be bound by darkness, as we prayed and spoke over Natalie about 20 minutes.
Through this experience of speaking healing and freedom into Natalie's life, I also found that freedom and life is being given to me as well. I suppose it's true, as one part suffers, all parts suffer, and as one part rejoices, all parts rejoice. I imagine that I wasn't the only one suffering, and the only one who left that meeting rejoicing. I woke Tuesday morning truly happy and full of life. This was the first day since the breakup that I was actually excited to wake up. I'd had pleasant dreams, dreams that were hopeful, and Andrew was in them, but I didn't miss him. He was there, but he didn't matter, and I woke up feeling like that could be possible, that exciting things are in store for me and that I will be free from missing him and feeling lonely.
Tuesday continued to be a great day. My classmate and I went down to Austin to see Feist in concert. The concert was incredible, and the whole afternoon/evening was a great escape. Even though it was a Tuesday night, it felt like a weekend, like a true vacation, and we were able to escape our school obligations for a few hours and really relax and enjoy ourselves.
My classmate also recently went through a breakup, and we dreamed about places we wanted to travel too and things that we wanted to do, and it got me really excited. I hadn't dreamed that way since I'd been dating Andrew. I had lots of dreams and excitement, but they all centered around him and how he could fit into my future. A lady at the women's meeting described how before she was married, she imagined taking all of her dreams and goals and placing them in a box and wrapping them as a gift. She knew that when she was married that she wouldn't have to throw away this box, but it would a gift that she could trust to her husband. She knew that God would provide her with someone who would take care of her dreams and goals. I really like that imagery. It's easy for me to be extreme and get caught up in the idea of being single and doing only what I want or of being married and surrendered to a husband and possibly giving up dreams, but I trust that God has someone for me who will cherish my dreams and help me fulfill them, and I don't have to fear giving them up because I'll be giving them over to someone I can trust.
In addition to the great concert and good time with friends, I came home from Austin with a bike! A couple of years ago, my mom gave me her old bike, but it was stolen. Lately, I've been thinking that I wanted a bike again, to ride for fun, and also I'm hoping to live closer to campus next year so I could possibly commute with it. My birthday's coming up, and I had even thought about asking for a bike for my birthday. My classmate and I picked up her friend Emily for the concert. Emily started talking about how she was getting a new bike, I mentioned wanting a bike, and she offered me her old one! It's a Hercules, made in England, and it's purple! It's such a girly bike - I absolutely love it! It needs some work, but I asked the men in my church small group about it, and there's a guy who really loves working on bikes, so he's excited to work on it! I'm really thrilled about it, it'll be great to start riding again. And did I mention it's purple? Remind me to post some pictures when we get it into shape.
Overall, it's been a really incredible week, but I've still had some hard times. I've been trying to figure out where to live and who to live with. I was considering buying a house, but a couple of weeks ago I decided against that. Last week, talking with a woman from my church about the breakup, I also started talking about housing, and we decided that it would be really good for me to live with some fellow church members. My roommates right now are ok, but we just don't connect, and I've never felt completely at home living where I live now. Like I've mentioned, I really want to connect with more women from my church and build female friendships, and I want to live somewhere that feels like a home. I think this would be really good for me, and I think it's what I need right now. I've talked with a couple of different sets of girls about it, but I'm still waiting for things to work out. Today, I got really frustrated, because things didn't work out with the first group of girls, and it may not work out with this second group. Both times, I got really emotional about it. I realize that I'm probably over reacting, but I'm hurt and lonely and I want so desperately for connect with others and I want something really good to look forward to! I've also realized that these feel a little like rejections. I just got a big rejection from Andrew, and then I felt rejected again when things didn't work out with the first group of girls. But they've assured me that it really just came down to the logistics and they want to continue to get to know me better and stay connected. I believe them, but I still have fear. I fear that because I'm no longer dating Andrew, that I'm going to lose these friendships I've started to build these past few months and just become distanced from these people. I know this isn't true, and people keep approaching me and telling me how they want to hang out, they want to stay connected to me, but I still have that fear. I fear being rejected again.
So, please pray for me about all of this. Pray that things will work out for me to live with some girls from church, pray that I'll really feel at home in my next place. Pray that I'll feel peace about this and be able to trust it to God without getting so emotional about it and without putting such high stakes on everything. Pray that I'll be free from these fears, pray that I'll continue to connect with others, and trust them. Pray that I won't be lonely, but that I will find good women to connect with during this time. And I have so much school work to do in the next three weeks, pray that I won't be distracted from that, but that I'll be diligent and get a lot done soon! My mom came to visit last weekend and that was really good, but I'm worried about this weekend. I have dinner plans on Friday and Saturday night, but most of the time I need to work on a big paper. I'm afraid that I'm going to get lonely, that I'm going to start thinking about Andrew and wondering what he's doing. Pray that I'll be free from that, that I'll just get absorbed in my paper and not worry about those things. I really am dreading this weekend, but I know that I shouldn't. It'll be a good time for me to be productive and to spend some time with the people here who I care about.
I started writing this post a couple of days ago, and there was more that I wanted to say, but I think this is enough for now.
Through this experience of speaking healing and freedom into Natalie's life, I also found that freedom and life is being given to me as well. I suppose it's true, as one part suffers, all parts suffer, and as one part rejoices, all parts rejoice. I imagine that I wasn't the only one suffering, and the only one who left that meeting rejoicing. I woke Tuesday morning truly happy and full of life. This was the first day since the breakup that I was actually excited to wake up. I'd had pleasant dreams, dreams that were hopeful, and Andrew was in them, but I didn't miss him. He was there, but he didn't matter, and I woke up feeling like that could be possible, that exciting things are in store for me and that I will be free from missing him and feeling lonely.
Tuesday continued to be a great day. My classmate and I went down to Austin to see Feist in concert. The concert was incredible, and the whole afternoon/evening was a great escape. Even though it was a Tuesday night, it felt like a weekend, like a true vacation, and we were able to escape our school obligations for a few hours and really relax and enjoy ourselves.
My classmate also recently went through a breakup, and we dreamed about places we wanted to travel too and things that we wanted to do, and it got me really excited. I hadn't dreamed that way since I'd been dating Andrew. I had lots of dreams and excitement, but they all centered around him and how he could fit into my future. A lady at the women's meeting described how before she was married, she imagined taking all of her dreams and goals and placing them in a box and wrapping them as a gift. She knew that when she was married that she wouldn't have to throw away this box, but it would a gift that she could trust to her husband. She knew that God would provide her with someone who would take care of her dreams and goals. I really like that imagery. It's easy for me to be extreme and get caught up in the idea of being single and doing only what I want or of being married and surrendered to a husband and possibly giving up dreams, but I trust that God has someone for me who will cherish my dreams and help me fulfill them, and I don't have to fear giving them up because I'll be giving them over to someone I can trust.
In addition to the great concert and good time with friends, I came home from Austin with a bike! A couple of years ago, my mom gave me her old bike, but it was stolen. Lately, I've been thinking that I wanted a bike again, to ride for fun, and also I'm hoping to live closer to campus next year so I could possibly commute with it. My birthday's coming up, and I had even thought about asking for a bike for my birthday. My classmate and I picked up her friend Emily for the concert. Emily started talking about how she was getting a new bike, I mentioned wanting a bike, and she offered me her old one! It's a Hercules, made in England, and it's purple! It's such a girly bike - I absolutely love it! It needs some work, but I asked the men in my church small group about it, and there's a guy who really loves working on bikes, so he's excited to work on it! I'm really thrilled about it, it'll be great to start riding again. And did I mention it's purple? Remind me to post some pictures when we get it into shape.
Overall, it's been a really incredible week, but I've still had some hard times. I've been trying to figure out where to live and who to live with. I was considering buying a house, but a couple of weeks ago I decided against that. Last week, talking with a woman from my church about the breakup, I also started talking about housing, and we decided that it would be really good for me to live with some fellow church members. My roommates right now are ok, but we just don't connect, and I've never felt completely at home living where I live now. Like I've mentioned, I really want to connect with more women from my church and build female friendships, and I want to live somewhere that feels like a home. I think this would be really good for me, and I think it's what I need right now. I've talked with a couple of different sets of girls about it, but I'm still waiting for things to work out. Today, I got really frustrated, because things didn't work out with the first group of girls, and it may not work out with this second group. Both times, I got really emotional about it. I realize that I'm probably over reacting, but I'm hurt and lonely and I want so desperately for connect with others and I want something really good to look forward to! I've also realized that these feel a little like rejections. I just got a big rejection from Andrew, and then I felt rejected again when things didn't work out with the first group of girls. But they've assured me that it really just came down to the logistics and they want to continue to get to know me better and stay connected. I believe them, but I still have fear. I fear that because I'm no longer dating Andrew, that I'm going to lose these friendships I've started to build these past few months and just become distanced from these people. I know this isn't true, and people keep approaching me and telling me how they want to hang out, they want to stay connected to me, but I still have that fear. I fear being rejected again.
So, please pray for me about all of this. Pray that things will work out for me to live with some girls from church, pray that I'll really feel at home in my next place. Pray that I'll feel peace about this and be able to trust it to God without getting so emotional about it and without putting such high stakes on everything. Pray that I'll be free from these fears, pray that I'll continue to connect with others, and trust them. Pray that I won't be lonely, but that I will find good women to connect with during this time. And I have so much school work to do in the next three weeks, pray that I won't be distracted from that, but that I'll be diligent and get a lot done soon! My mom came to visit last weekend and that was really good, but I'm worried about this weekend. I have dinner plans on Friday and Saturday night, but most of the time I need to work on a big paper. I'm afraid that I'm going to get lonely, that I'm going to start thinking about Andrew and wondering what he's doing. Pray that I'll be free from that, that I'll just get absorbed in my paper and not worry about those things. I really am dreading this weekend, but I know that I shouldn't. It'll be a good time for me to be productive and to spend some time with the people here who I care about.
I started writing this post a couple of days ago, and there was more that I wanted to say, but I think this is enough for now.
Monday, April 07, 2008
24 hours: the aftermath
- Screamed, cussed, threw pillows, and slammed doors. Check.
- Called a church friend who saved me from destoying my house by letting me come over to cry on her shoulder and not be alone. Check.
- Called my best friend. Check.
- Texted my best friend because she never checks her messages, and she actually called me back. Check.
- Went to church, cried while singing "I need you Jesus, come to my rescue . . . this world has nothing for me." Check.
- Ran past one of his roommates while going to the bathroom to get tissues. Check.
- Skipped out on my pastor's dating sermon to help same church friend with the kids in the back. Check.
- Went to a departmental meeting, faked being fine, and left as soon as I could. Check.
- Called my mom. Check.
- Drove to another church family's house, and talked with them. Check.
- Drove back to first church family's house to borrow a Francine Rivers book. Check.
- Came home, realized my keys were missing, called every place I'd been that day. Check.
- Went back to church family's house because our pastor was over. Pastor, husband of friend, and I drove to the church where we didn't find my keys. Pastor asked how I was doing and I asked him to pray for me. Check.
- Came home and successfully avoided my roommates. Check.
- Stuffed cards and pictures of him in a drawer. Check.
- Changed my background picture from a picture of us in a field of bluebonnets to an empty field of dandelions. Check.
- Texted best friend and asked her to pray for a good night's sleep for me and for me to feel better in the morning. Check.
- Read scripture from our women's retreat and prayed that I'd believe it. Check.
- Went to sleep fairly easily, but woke up at 3:30 and repeatedly woke up tossing and turning for the rest of the night. Check.
- Woke up feeling numb and started going through the motions of getting ready. Check.
- Coughed up green mucuous in the sink. Check.
- Cried and prayed in the shower. Check.
- Felt nauseous, but made myself breakfast anyway. Check.
- Explained to my roommate that the dog hadn't gotten lose, but I was the reason for the mess in the bathroom yesterday. Check.
- Called my boss to tell him my keys were missing and told him I was having a terrible day. Check.
- Called best friend again crying on the way to work. Check.
- Arrived at work, found substitute key. Check.
- Wrote him an email, asking him a question that maybe will give me more closure. Check.
- Emailed other close girlfriends, explaining situation, and asking for prayers. Check.
- Emailed friends about going to Feist concert next Tuesday in Austin with me since I was going to go with him and his roommate and he kindly still offered to pay for their tickets. Check.
- Wrote a silly but extremely honest blog post about what I've done the past 22 hours. Check.
What can I say? Love's a bitch that needs to be slapped around, though it feels like I'm love's bitch and she's the one giving me a beating. I'm sure these next 24 hours will be better, but please say a prayer for me.
Tuesday, April 01, 2008
belonging
Happy April Fool's Day! March has past, and I only wrote one blog entry that entire month. I guess spring break was pretty busy, and then things have stayed busy since I've been back at school. I'd like to write about what's been on my mind a lot, the ministry my church is starting with women at a strip club, me looking to buy a house and all of the uncertainty and excitement that goes along with that, my romantic relationship and how that's going, and all the things that my pastor is preaching about dating and what I'm learning through all of this.
But the truth is, I could probably start a post about one of those topics, and wouldn't finish it today. Maybe I'd finish it tomorrow, or maybe it would sit as a draft for weeks and those weeks would turn into months and suddenly it wouldn't seem relevant to post at all. Looking today, I have 6 posts drafts just from the past 4 months. 6 posts that were started, never completed, and all but abandoned. Maybe instead of starting something entirely new, I should resurrect these posts from the past few months. I've chosen the most complete one to breath some life into. It was written January 25th, 2008. This was just a couple of weeks into this spring semester. Here it is:
Belonging
A couple of days ago, I wanted to write about how I was feeling more at home here, and how good that's been. But since then, I've found some more loneliness creeping in. I'll give writing about good things a shot, and maybe I can recapture how I felt two days ago.
When I came to TCU as a freshmen, I dove in headfirst, meeting people, getting involved in organizations, even serving as a welcome-type person for one organization! In some ways I was your typical college freshmen, eager to do anything and everything. In other ways, I was atypical. I was confident in my eagerness, confident that I belonged here and would feel at home, confident that I could hang out with seniors and be accepted. I think because of this confidence, I was frequently mistaken for an upperclassman. I don't really remember feeling insecure that first semester. Another freshmen that year (who is know one of my closest friends) later told me that she was intimidated by me when we first met. "Wow," she thought, "This girl already knows so many people and has so many friends, why would she ever want to be my friend?" Fortunately, her assumption was wrong. Sometime halfway through that semester I realized that despite all the activities I was involved in, despite all of the people I had to hang out with, I didn't have a close friend. Realizing that I was missing this and that the seniors I had been hanging out with would soon be graduating, I started praying for a close friend that I could spend college with. God soon answered that prayer, and that girl who had first been intimidated by me became the friend that I can't imagine spending college without. My second year, I developed close friendships with other young women who I still try to remain close to.
In addition to these close friendships, I also valued all of my other friends and acquaintances at TCU. I've never been one to put myself in a bubble, and I knew lots of people on that small campus, and lots of people knew me. Walking from my dorm to class, I'd probably say "Hi" to at least 5 or 6 people I passed that I knew. One friend walking with me one day was really surprised by this, "Dang!" he exclaimed, "You know everybody here!" For my first three years especially, I loved this atmosphere. I felt right at home and felt a deep sense of belonging to this campus. Perhaps I'm idealizing this time, because I do remember individuals and groups of people that I wanted to feel more at home with, and that I wanted to get to know better, but never did. I did experience rejection during that time, and it hurt, but I always I had friends to fall back on and I never felt like I didn't belong.
When I first arrived at this new campus, with over 45,000 students, I doubted that I ever feel that same sense of belonging. The first few weeks were very strange, walking to work and class from my parking lot and only being met by strange faces. Finally, I'd arrive at work and be greeted by a familiar face. I would often think that I saw someone from TCU. Not close friends, just once of those acquaintances that I always enjoyed saying "Hello," to. On this campus, strangers often say, "Howdy," to one another when they make eye contact. At first I timidly responded if I responded at all, but now I respond with a smile and an enthusiastic, "Howdy!" or "Hello!" It's not the same as seeing a familiar friend, but just making a brief connection with another human is satisfying.
That was January 25th, this is April 1st. I was beginning to feel hopeful, beginning to feel like I could connect with others in this new place, beginning to feel at home. At that point, my friends from church, Travis and Amanda, and just started to invite me to hang out with them more, something they hadn't done at all last semester. I was beginning to feel more included, and meeting more people through my church. January 25th was the night of Travis' birthday party, when I first connected with Andrew, and saw a lot of life in him and wanted to get to know him better. Since that time, we've started dating, I've hung out a lot more with church friends and made lots of friends, mostly through Andrew, but I've also deepened relationships with people in my small group, gotten involved in a ministries that have led to more connection with women in my church, and have gotten to know more 2nd and 3rd years in my program better. Overall, I feel much more myself, much more comfortable, and feel like I belong both in my program and in my church. Even on campus, I see more familiar faces. Last week, there was one day when I saw three people I knew. Three people! This was huge, because usually it was exciting if I saw one person on campus that I knew. And to see three people, at different times, wow!
I'm feeling more at home here, and this is a really good thing. Still though, I spent a lot of Christmas break praying for a good Christian girl friend here. And, surprise! I got Andrew, which is great and wonderful and every day I'm thankful for what we have, but where's that girl friend I was praying for? I've met lots of girls through church, and couple of them I felt like I could really connect with, and maybe something more will happen with one of those friendships. It really does take time. I guess I could be more proactive, ask some of these girls to hang out instead of just waiting to see them at church events. I'm pretty proactive with spending time with families in my small group. Why is it easier to invite myself over to a family's house for dinner than to invite a girl to coffee or lunch? Maybe I'm used to friendships happening more naturally. Maybe I'm slightly prideful and want them to be asking me to do things. Maybe I'm complacent and stay busy and forget that I could use another person in my life. Part of me wonders if I need to a find a good close girlfriend here. I have Andrew, though I've never been one to substitute a boyfriend for friends. I do have lots of friends to hang out with, I'm never bored on the weekends, I have adults that I can turn to for good advice, and I keep in touch with a few of my close girl friends from back home and still turn to them and they rely on me too. Some of these close friends are going to come visit me over the summer, which will be awesome. Who knows. Maybe in three months I'll look back on this post and write a post that begins something like this:
"That was April 1st, this is July 1st. Back then, I felt like I was missing having a good girl friend, now I feel . . . "
But the truth is, I could probably start a post about one of those topics, and wouldn't finish it today. Maybe I'd finish it tomorrow, or maybe it would sit as a draft for weeks and those weeks would turn into months and suddenly it wouldn't seem relevant to post at all. Looking today, I have 6 posts drafts just from the past 4 months. 6 posts that were started, never completed, and all but abandoned. Maybe instead of starting something entirely new, I should resurrect these posts from the past few months. I've chosen the most complete one to breath some life into. It was written January 25th, 2008. This was just a couple of weeks into this spring semester. Here it is:
Belonging
A couple of days ago, I wanted to write about how I was feeling more at home here, and how good that's been. But since then, I've found some more loneliness creeping in. I'll give writing about good things a shot, and maybe I can recapture how I felt two days ago.
When I came to TCU as a freshmen, I dove in headfirst, meeting people, getting involved in organizations, even serving as a welcome-type person for one organization! In some ways I was your typical college freshmen, eager to do anything and everything. In other ways, I was atypical. I was confident in my eagerness, confident that I belonged here and would feel at home, confident that I could hang out with seniors and be accepted. I think because of this confidence, I was frequently mistaken for an upperclassman. I don't really remember feeling insecure that first semester. Another freshmen that year (who is know one of my closest friends) later told me that she was intimidated by me when we first met. "Wow," she thought, "This girl already knows so many people and has so many friends, why would she ever want to be my friend?" Fortunately, her assumption was wrong. Sometime halfway through that semester I realized that despite all the activities I was involved in, despite all of the people I had to hang out with, I didn't have a close friend. Realizing that I was missing this and that the seniors I had been hanging out with would soon be graduating, I started praying for a close friend that I could spend college with. God soon answered that prayer, and that girl who had first been intimidated by me became the friend that I can't imagine spending college without. My second year, I developed close friendships with other young women who I still try to remain close to.
In addition to these close friendships, I also valued all of my other friends and acquaintances at TCU. I've never been one to put myself in a bubble, and I knew lots of people on that small campus, and lots of people knew me. Walking from my dorm to class, I'd probably say "Hi" to at least 5 or 6 people I passed that I knew. One friend walking with me one day was really surprised by this, "Dang!" he exclaimed, "You know everybody here!" For my first three years especially, I loved this atmosphere. I felt right at home and felt a deep sense of belonging to this campus. Perhaps I'm idealizing this time, because I do remember individuals and groups of people that I wanted to feel more at home with, and that I wanted to get to know better, but never did. I did experience rejection during that time, and it hurt, but I always I had friends to fall back on and I never felt like I didn't belong.
When I first arrived at this new campus, with over 45,000 students, I doubted that I ever feel that same sense of belonging. The first few weeks were very strange, walking to work and class from my parking lot and only being met by strange faces. Finally, I'd arrive at work and be greeted by a familiar face. I would often think that I saw someone from TCU. Not close friends, just once of those acquaintances that I always enjoyed saying "Hello," to. On this campus, strangers often say, "Howdy," to one another when they make eye contact. At first I timidly responded if I responded at all, but now I respond with a smile and an enthusiastic, "Howdy!" or "Hello!" It's not the same as seeing a familiar friend, but just making a brief connection with another human is satisfying.
That was January 25th, this is April 1st. I was beginning to feel hopeful, beginning to feel like I could connect with others in this new place, beginning to feel at home. At that point, my friends from church, Travis and Amanda, and just started to invite me to hang out with them more, something they hadn't done at all last semester. I was beginning to feel more included, and meeting more people through my church. January 25th was the night of Travis' birthday party, when I first connected with Andrew, and saw a lot of life in him and wanted to get to know him better. Since that time, we've started dating, I've hung out a lot more with church friends and made lots of friends, mostly through Andrew, but I've also deepened relationships with people in my small group, gotten involved in a ministries that have led to more connection with women in my church, and have gotten to know more 2nd and 3rd years in my program better. Overall, I feel much more myself, much more comfortable, and feel like I belong both in my program and in my church. Even on campus, I see more familiar faces. Last week, there was one day when I saw three people I knew. Three people! This was huge, because usually it was exciting if I saw one person on campus that I knew. And to see three people, at different times, wow!
I'm feeling more at home here, and this is a really good thing. Still though, I spent a lot of Christmas break praying for a good Christian girl friend here. And, surprise! I got Andrew, which is great and wonderful and every day I'm thankful for what we have, but where's that girl friend I was praying for? I've met lots of girls through church, and couple of them I felt like I could really connect with, and maybe something more will happen with one of those friendships. It really does take time. I guess I could be more proactive, ask some of these girls to hang out instead of just waiting to see them at church events. I'm pretty proactive with spending time with families in my small group. Why is it easier to invite myself over to a family's house for dinner than to invite a girl to coffee or lunch? Maybe I'm used to friendships happening more naturally. Maybe I'm slightly prideful and want them to be asking me to do things. Maybe I'm complacent and stay busy and forget that I could use another person in my life. Part of me wonders if I need to a find a good close girlfriend here. I have Andrew, though I've never been one to substitute a boyfriend for friends. I do have lots of friends to hang out with, I'm never bored on the weekends, I have adults that I can turn to for good advice, and I keep in touch with a few of my close girl friends from back home and still turn to them and they rely on me too. Some of these close friends are going to come visit me over the summer, which will be awesome. Who knows. Maybe in three months I'll look back on this post and write a post that begins something like this:
"That was April 1st, this is July 1st. Back then, I felt like I was missing having a good girl friend, now I feel . . . "
Friday, June 15, 2007
Just Another Typical Love Story
Five years ago, Boy meets Girl. Boy likes Girl. Boy makes mix tape and asks Girl out. Girl says yes. Three weeks later, Girl breaks up with Boy. Boy and Girl stay friends. Boy wants to get back together with Girl, but Girl says no. Girl is friends with Girl 2. Girl 2 asks out Boy. Boy says yes. Girl says, "Rebound." Boy really likes Girl 2. Boy and Girl 2 fall in love. Girl, Boy, and Girl 2 all stay friends. Four years later, Boy buys ring and asks Girl 2 to marry him. Girl 2 says yes.
Today, Girl receives card -
"Thank you for being part of our special day and thank you for the Battle of the Sexes. We remember how it was really all your fault that we're together! Of course it's a fault in a good way :)
[Man and Wife]"
Girl smiles. A lot.
The End
PS - Girl still has mix tape somewhere.
Today, Girl receives card -
"Thank you for being part of our special day and thank you for the Battle of the Sexes. We remember how it was really all your fault that we're together! Of course it's a fault in a good way :)
[Man and Wife]"
Girl smiles. A lot.
The End
PS - Girl still has mix tape somewhere.
Wednesday, June 13, 2007
My Mr. Blue
I wrote this poem on January 24th of this year. I can't believe that it's been that long and I still haven't posted it. I wrote this shortly after meeting Martha. She gave us all a mix cd, and one of the songs on it was "Mr. Blue" by Catherine Feeny, which inspired this poem. (It's not plaguerism if you acknowledge where the inspiration came from). I made a revised version in an attempt to make it more organized. I read both versions to a friend, and she enjoyed the original version better. What I'm posting is pretty close to the original, with just a couple of minor revisions. I'm reluctant to post it because I don't think it's very creative, but it's mine, and at the time I needed to write it, and a couple of you have urged me to share it.
I promise the next poem I post won't need such a long preface.
My Mr. Blue
I’m sorry, Mr. Blue,
But today I’m leaving you.
No matter that you left first
In my mind, I can still leave you
Like you left me
Those years ago,
Madame Blue.
Don’t cry, Mr. Blue,
Not this time.
(If you really did before)
Take the hand of grace
And break free
To become Mr. New.
Then you will love again.
Mr. New, where are your tears?
Still behind your eyes.
So, it’s still you, Mr. Blue
Sitting in prison to your fears
Not yet ready
To become someone new.
I’m sorry, Mr. Blue
I truly am,
That I had to leave you
But I needed something new.
Don’t you know?
You need it too.
I promise the next poem I post won't need such a long preface.
My Mr. Blue
I’m sorry, Mr. Blue,
But today I’m leaving you.
No matter that you left first
In my mind, I can still leave you
Like you left me
Those years ago,
Madame Blue.
Don’t cry, Mr. Blue,
Not this time.
(If you really did before)
Take the hand of grace
And break free
To become Mr. New.
Then you will love again.
Mr. New, where are your tears?
Still behind your eyes.
So, it’s still you, Mr. Blue
Sitting in prison to your fears
Not yet ready
To become someone new.
I’m sorry, Mr. Blue
I truly am,
That I had to leave you
But I needed something new.
Don’t you know?
You need it too.
Friday, January 26, 2007
venti nonfat no whip white mocha for michelle
This morning we had a customer come into our Starbucks with a card. He told us about a woman, Michelle, who always came through between 8:30am and 9am, and got a Venti Nonfat, no whip, White Mocha. He paid for her drink, and gave us the card to give to Michelle with instructions to tell her that a "handsome, distinguished gentleman" had already paid for her drink. Plus, he handed us a five dollar tip for our efforts :) Well, around 8:30 when I was taking orders, I started asking everyone who ordered a nonfat white mocha, whether it was no whip or grande or whatever, if she was Michelle, but no luck! He came back around 11 and told us that he'd talked to her, and she had come into the cafe with a friend. Woops! At first I thought he was pursuing someone he was interested in, but now I think it may have been his wife, since he talks to her and knows her well enough to know her habits. Either way, isn't that sweet? I thought it was a good idea for a surprise, like something special you could do for someone on their birthday. He said he'd try to do it again next week, since he already paid for the drink, but I sure hope it wasn't her birthday today! I just thought I'd share. Romance is alive and well in the twenty-first century - at least for a handsome, distinguished gentleman and a woman named Michelle.
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