Saying What I Need to Say

So I wrote something else that I would like to call eloquent and full of nuance.  It had a sweet metaphor involving me as roadkill and talked about the deep meaning I feel in music from Mindy Smith, Harry Chapin and the Indigo Girls.  But I'm not posting it.  I know, it's killing you not to read this complex and layered piece but you'll just have to make due with this one.  

Here's the thing.  As I was writing it, I really felt every word.  I believed what I was writing.  Then, a couple days later I read it again and didn't feel that way as much anymore.  I was giving too much away...throwing pearls to swine as Jesus would say.

So I'm starting over.

One song I have loved forever is Carly Simon's "You're so Vain."  I absolutely love that she held on to the secret of its inspiration for so many years but made it oh-so clear in the song that if that person was listening they were self-absorbed enough to know it was about them.  It's such a lyrical screw-job that I can't help but love it.

In that spirit...you're so self-absorbed you already know this is about you before I even go on.  Damn.  You smart.

There was a time when I "made your day without even trying" and sharing a small smile with you during the day was enough to make me forget where we are.  And now I expend extraneous amounts of energy pretending that the person I was falling in love with doesn't exist.  Frankly, it's exhausting.

You still sneak your way into my dreams and it makes me feel like my sub-conscience has betrayed me at my most vulnerable because I don't want to think about you.  

I think I have a right to be mad at you for leading me on and I'm certainly mad at myself for believing you and giving you the benefit of the doubt.  But when I try to take apart the layers of what happened, mixed with what I feel and felt at the time it feels a little like those concoctions we used to make in middle school at lunch.  We took a mostly empty milk container and added whatever we could find on the table -- liquid, chunky, condiments, crusts -- anything.  It gets all kind of grey and lumpy but devoid of any individuality.  We can no longer identify the ingredients that we added, it's too jumbled up. I can't dissect it properly so I come to two really scary conclusions:

I regret what we had.

I didn't learn anything from our time together except that I shouldn't trust my instincts.  

Something that's always been important to me is that I don't live life with regrets -- even the really losery guys taught me something about life and myself and what I need in a relationship.  I think it's an important aspect of life to learn from your mistakes and the pain that ensues.  And moving through life not being able to trust my instincts makes me feel panicky and I return to the concoction, desperate to find SOMETHING that makes sense, something I can take away that is positive.  Unfortunately, it's just overwhelming and lumpy and sad and I all I can think about are the wonderful and scandalously delicious things you said to me because when you said them, they made sense, they masqueraded successfully as truth and I'm right back to the beginning.  

Of course I want to know what happened.  What flipped the switch in two days time? I have ideas and they make you melt together in my mind to be exactly like the ones that came before you.  Foolishly, I thought you were different but you aren't.  You weren't.

It sucks to feel this way, to acknowledge the grey, sludgy concoction that is my heart but I am finding ways to heal a little more every day.  

That's all you'll get of me and that said, I hope you find ways to become less of a coward and stop being a poster child for the arrogant and self-centered.  You can start by stop acting like you were straight with me all along and dig deep for some humility and repentance.

total eclipse of the heart

This summer I got my first [and only] flat screen TV.  It was a pretty big deal at my house because I had been using a giant TV that was gifted to me by a friend when I moved to my new condo.  He was upgrading to a flat screen and gave me his as hand-me-down gift that I appreciated very much.  [Later that first day in my new condo a friend [who didn’t know where the TV came from] said “that TV looks like a dude’s TV.”  Oh well, it was free.]

So I consulted with my Tech Counselor and made the big purchase.  It’s a little bigger than I expected [maybe it still looks like I have a “dude’s TV”] but I have to say that I love it.

With the new TV came new channels and, of course, HD.  I’ve also been privy to multiple viewings of the “Sex and the City” Movie.

I saw this movie in the theatre with [albeit random] girl friends and had very mixed feelings at the time.  I loved the fashion, the city as a 5^th main character, the cheesy jokes and even SJP’s voiceovers. 

But I hated the ending.

I thought it was just ludicrous that after Mr. Big drove away from their wedding without talking to Carrie and after her subsequent [and understandable!] devastation she took him back and married him.

I held onto the belief that I would never do this, nor would I support a friend who chose to do this for a long time.  To be perfectly honest, I’m not sure why this mattered to me so much, maybe just because it seemed like The Smart Girl’s Response…the girl who is/would be in control.  Maybe it’s because heartbreak is so devastating and watching her pain felt like it deserved rejection as its only retribution.

However, after watching the movie all these years later I have changed my mind.

I like that they end up together.  I like that she says just before she runs to him, “It wasn’t logic, it was love.”  I like that they get married at the Justice of the Peace in her label-less dress and those to-die-for blue Manolo’s.  I like that they have a casual lunch with their friends to celebrate.

I was wrong.  I take it back.

Maybe in the past few years I have been able to appreciate the humanness of relationships a little more.  Maybe I appreciate my own humanness in relationships more than I used to.  Maybe I see the devastation of Carrie’s break up and can feel the trepidacious hope she has when she sees his emails. And, of course, I feel the abandonment she does when she drops her purse and runs into his arms in the gorgeous new closet. 

I don’t know if I can call this change of heart an evolution of my emotions, growing up, or even just changing my mind but admitting you’re wrong or even recently deciding you were wrong is a big step.

Mostly, I hope, though that it doesn’t mean I’ve lowered my standards. 

characters

Have you ever noticed how many different kinds of people there are out there?  I mean, it's truly astounding how God thought to have so many unique faces and personalities.

I'll be honest:  I don't always appreciate every personality.  But I am often amused by them.

This past weekend I organized a yard sale for my friends and the people in my building.  It was a large undertaking but I was heavily motivated by the need for extra cash and to be free of so many superfluous items taking up space I don't have.  If you've ever held your own yard or garage sale you know that all kinds of characters will show up and, hopefully, hilarity will ensue.  And ensue it did.

It was only 7:45 on Friday morning but I was already feeling like this endeavor had been a mistake.  There was just so much stuff to take outside and get set up and I only had 2 people helping me -- who were total lifesavers, by the way.  On one of my trips outside I see my friend, Judy, talking to an early-bird customer.  He was an older man and, at this point, I don't know what they are talking about when I hear Judy say, "What if I sold it to you for $1?"  And then he says loudly:  "No, not even for $1!  Computers are ruining America!  Why doesn't anybody realize this?!"

And he walked away with his righteous indignation in tact and I knew I was in for an interesting [and long] day.

Later, in the height of our busiest time a woman arrived with her 2 grand kids.  I learned quickly that she was a professional bargainer and would only take the most rock-bottom and ridiculous prices.  I actually sold her a DVD/VCR combo for $6.50!  It was a moment of weakness for me, luck for her.  Then she took one of the folding chairs we were using for yard sale workers and set up shop at the teacher section and started building up a huge stack of teacher manuals and resources for what she said was homeschooling for her grand kids.   She wanted deals on all of them and the bartering went something like this:

Me:  "Well, each of these is listed for $3 so I can give them to you for $2 since you have so many."
Her:  "How about $1?"
Me:  "$1?  You can see right here that they were each $17.99 new and they are barely used.  If I sold you these for $1 each my friend who is selling them wouldn't thank me."
Her:  "Well, if they were new, maybe, but this is a rummage sale."
[I paused trying not to correct her verbiage.  Rummage sale?!  Hardly.]

I decided to cut my losses and give her the stack for a flat price which came in at 50% of the total [reduced] value.  She accepted that deal but then also wanted the bread maker, her grand kids wanted picture books and DVD's and her granddaughter wanted a toy microphone.  However, she didn't have enough cash on her for all these treasures so she had to strike, yet another, deal with me.  She would pay cash for some items and write a check for the rest.  She would take the items paid for with cash and when the check cleared ["after Tuesday"] then I could call her and she would pick up the rest.  While you absorb the ramifications of that I interject this anecdote:

When the granddaughter [about 6] realized that the money would be short she graciously offered to put back the microphone but the grand mother insisted that she keep that.  "You need that," she said with conviction, "for your singing."  I couldn't help but wonder if she was buying the microphone as a sort of insurance policy for the future.  She was picturing herself on American Idol tracing it all back to the $1 microphone she was smart enough to pay for on a cash-n-carry deal.

Anyway, I agreed to the absurd deal and took her check.  As she walked away my friend Katy says these wise words:  "You will never see that woman again in your life."  I fear she's right and I'll be driving around with a bread maker in my trunk for weeks.

Finally, in the cleaning stages of Saturday afternoon when I was exhausted and covered in sweat when a guy pulls up and gets out of his car.  He was clearly too late for the party but that wasn't stopping him.  He was on a mission.

Remember Rocky's trainer, Paulie?


Now you know what the guy looked like as he began this conversation with me [seriously, he even had the cigar]:

Paulie:  "You have a sale here?"
Me [as I carry heavy boxes back and forth in 85 degree heat]:  "Yes, we're cleaning up, sorry you missed it."
Paulie:  "You live here?"
Me:  "Yes" [I'd had a ton of questions about the building so this wasn't a suspicious question.  Yet.]
Paulie:  "You married?"
Me:  [Trying to remain calm and looking at my friend, Megan, in panic] "Not yet."
Paulie:  "Not yet, huh?"
Me:  "I'm about to be -- thanks for coming!"

Paulie turns and leaves, probably heading to the bowling alley to troll for his next conquest.

Megan was shocked but I told her calmly:  "I'm very big with creepy old men; it's always been true."  [I'm serious and the bowling alley and fake boyfriend/fiance thing is not arbitrary.  A disgusting old man asked me to go home with him once when I was 17 after I told him I was waiting for my [fake] boyfriend.]

So, with about $325 [about $1000 total!] in my pocket I put a wrap on this yard sale and all the characters that came with it!

silence

As a Jesus-follower this week is significant for me.  This is the beginning of Holy Week when we anticipate the crucifixion and resurrection of Christ.  It also marks the end of Lent; a time of giving up, a time of depravity if you so desire.

Growing up this meant I was a vegetarian on Fridays but I could eat as much fish as I wanted.  In recent years it meant giving up something I leaned too heavily on like laziness when it comes to certain things like working out or writing.

This year I decided to put the irons to the fire and give up something I thoroughly enjoy:  talking and over-thinking.  Of course, I didn't give up talking all together, I gave up talking about something specific, something so close to my heart I barely remember a time when it wasn't there, nestled in and quietly keeping me company.

In my community it's common to ask if you have given something up for Lent and what it was you gave up.  Many people I know give up some kind of food item:  bread, sweets, alcohol, meat, etc.  I have a friend who, for the past couple of years, has given up shoes and, in her act of solidarity with Jesus, only wears sandals during Lent.  However, because I gave up talking about something I was occasionally put in an awkward position when asked how I was honoring Lent.  I would just say that I did give something up but that I wasn't talking about it and people seemed to respect that.

The problem was I wanted to. Of course I did.  I wanted to spill my guts like a light-sabered Ton-Ton.  I wanted to tell everyone the long story, the good parts, the hard things, and the way my heart hurts, but I didn't.  I sat quietly and recited Psalm 121 in my head and tried to tell myself if would get better.

When I first made the decision to give up talking I knew it also meant day dreaming and stewing and all the pit falls of the type of deeply internal life I lead.  I knew I needed a weapon, something to soothe the panic and  unanswerable questions so I would say the Lord's Prayer.  After the first few days it would start with a sigh and like I had received a slap on the wrist, I dutifully recited the prayer.

After the first week, however, I knew, despite its holy  breadth, this prayer was not going to cut it.  This was going to be a long 40 days and I needed something more meaty to quell what was going on under the surface.  I easily found Psalm 121 and after a few days of self discipline, I memorized it.  I said it at work in meetings when my mind began to wander.  I said it in the car when a song made me want to scream and cry and ask unanswerable questions.  I said it on long walks past places filled with memories.  I said it as I lay awake in the middle of the night.  And I said it when I seemed happy and you saw me laughing.

What I've found now, though, is that I recite Psalm 121 less and less frequently in a given 24 hour period.  It's also said with much less resignation than it was in the beginning of Lent and it feels more like the comfort of a blanket of peace and familiarity. I know that it's true, that my help comes from the Maker of Heaven and Earth and if He can tackle that, my problem should be no problem.  I know that "He who watches over me will neither slumber nor sleep" and that "the LORD watches over my comings and goings both now and forevermore."  Thank God.

Silence has taught me a precious lesson that seemed trite and holier-than-thou before this season:  that over-processing with the people in my life and even inside my own head won't get me closer to solving my problem or feeling better about it.  But reminding myself of God's faithfulness over and over and over again will.  Every time.

Easter is coming and it should be said that I will not likely speak of this time outside of my journal.  But despite the relief that comes with the knowledge of the Risen Christ I am keeping this time, what I've learned about who I am and where I'm going close to my heart...

where it was all along.

chivalry, the myth

I'll be honest, I have high expectations of the general public and it sets me up for failure and disappointment again and again.  I should lower them but I can't ever seem to get around to it.  So what happens?  I'm bummed out over and over again about things like horrific customer service and ridiculous drivers.

The other day I was faced with these expectations and they slapped me in the face.  Hard.

I was driving to meet the lovely women of my writing group and because I was coming straight from work I was hungry, not to mention low on cash flow.  McDonald's drive thru it is.

I order my small fries and hamburger, pay and pull up to wait for my turn at the little magic window that produces your food when It happened.

I get rear ended.  Not a full blow to the bumper but a hit to be sure.

I look in my rear view mirror, aghast, and throw my hands up in the traditional "what the hell?" gesture and the guy has the nerve to look back at me like he doesn't know what my problem is.  What's a girl to do?

I get out of the car.  That's right.  I get out to see if there is any damage to The Emperor.

I go to the back of my car and I'm not joking, the guy was still right up against my bumper.  I ask him to move back and his response is, "I can't, there's a car behind me."  I laugh in shock and say "I promise you it's not nearly as close to your car as you are to mine."  His response?

"You could move forward."

Just soak that in for a second and search for your favorite, derogatory word to describe this guy while I continue.

"You hit me!", I say.  "There is plenty of room for you to move back, just please do it so I can see if there is any damage.  I'm sure it's fine, just please do it."  Now, I'm reassuring him?  What a load of total crap this is.

He rolls his eyes and very begrudgingly does it.  He moves back about 6 inches [amazingly, he didn't hit the person behind him!  It's a miracle!] to reveal that there was no damage, thank the Lord.

I say in a tone reserved for a petulant child, "See, everything's fine.  It didn't have to be a big deal." and I get in my car.

I don't know why this kind of behavior surprises me but it does.  Chivalry is something we're told existed a long time ago when there were Knights and Ladies and round tables and such.  But sometimes, we're told today that "chivalry isn't dead."

Really?  Are you sure?

Did feminism kill chivalry?

Did equal rights take chivalry and kick it in the balls?

Is it that perhaps, as women, we really do want it all?  And we should have it.  It's not just the glass ceiling we want removed, we want the guys walking to it before us to hold it open while we walk through it.

We do want you do walk on the outside part of the sidewalk, closer to the street so we don't get splashed.  We do want you to pay the check and pull over to help us if our tire blows out on the highway.  And, God forbid, we also want you to be sorry and accommodating when you rear end someone in the drive thru -- or anywhere else for that matter.

It doesn't seem to happen as much anymore.  I know there are a few lone soldiers out there trying to fight the good chivalry fight and I thank you. It's not unnoticed that you pay attention to the details and I hope you continue to do so.

Everyone else:  please step it up.  I think we deserve it.

we can't go back

I read this story this morning about a petition to ask the E! Network to remove all programming related to the Kardashian Family.

I find this laughable and I'll tell you why.

The collective masses and group-think we call "society" demand more of nearly everything every day.  We want more money, more noteriety, more advanced technology, more avenues to entertain us, more people to disagree with, more power, more influence and it's never enough.  And now they want to go backwards and it just can't happen. 

You got what you asked for.

Being born in the 70's and growing up in the 80's I have seen the "coming about" of many modern appliances and early technological advances that it's difficult to imagine life without -- but, apparently, at one time, we did.  I remember being called home from a friends house to see the new microwave.  It seemed cool.  Huge, but cool.  I also remember taking the drive out to my Dad's office to see his new Fax Machine.  I didn't get that one at all...still not sure I do, actually.  I fought [physically] with my brother to change the channel on the TV.  [You see, we had to get up from the couch and turn the dial on the box.  Getting up and heading towards the TV was an invitation for a beat-down.]  My mom had a car phone that was drilled into the center console of her Oldsmobile and I had a bag phone under my drivers seat as I travelled to spring break senior year and all the way through college.  I told people my freshman year that "no, I didn't get your E - mail" I wasn't doing that, it was a fad and I remember exactly where I was the first time I heard the word "blog" and thought it was both hilarious and ridiculous at the same time.

Now everyone, including elementary students, have their own cell phones complete with cameras [BTW, what parent of a junior high student thinks that is a good idea?!], text messaging, laptops with cameras [again, HELLO?!], the ability to see and talk to whomever you want, anywhere in the world for free and the ability to purchase anything in the world, any time of the night or day.  We have it all.

And although it's what we asked for [read:  demanded] we seem to want less but don't want to admit it outloud.

I remember hearing that a suburb near my hometown was discussing a potential new law regarding distracted driving.  Essentially, the law would prohibit any activity other than driving when behind the wheel:  drivers couldn't drink coffee, apply makeup [probably reasonable], talk on cell phones, text [also reasonable] or even eat your drive-through treasures.  It's like no one noticed that we fought and fought for the invention of all of these things and celebrated their arrivals by spending our money but now we want to go backwards and ban them.  It's too late.  We all got what we asked for.

Which brings me back to the Kardashians.  First of all, if you're willing to sign a petition I'm guessing you don't want a lot of E! to begin with, you just want to be known for taking a stand against something popular.  Secondly, if you do watch a lot of E! you are, undoubtedly watching a lot of shows featuring the Kardashians because it's about 85% of their programming.

Third and finally, change your channel if you don't like it because they are not going away and even if they did another outspoken family would take their place.  As a society we told TV producers that we loved this new genre, "Reality TV" the minute the original Real World aired, and for that matter, Survivor.  We jacked up the ratings every time a new Reality TV show aired and TV executives everywhere fell to their knees and thanked whatever god they worshipped because producing it is so drastically cheap in comparison to shows with real actors and salaries, eleborate sets and production costs.  It's easy to dress up a house with 16 twin beds, toss some desperate-to-be-famous 20-somethings in it and call it a show.  Why would they go back?

They won't and it's because we demanded it.

So, petition signers, I urge you to do something else with your time.  Stop blaming the executives at E! for doing what we've asked and just change the channel.  Or better yet, turn off your TV all together if you don't like what you see.

taking classes

Yesterday I had the beginnings of a fascinating conversation with one of our interns at work.  [I say 'beginnings' because she had to go to a meeting long before either of us felt done with the conversation!]

She is a senior at a small, local college working hard at getting her degree and wants to be a pastor or, at the very least, she wants to teach as much as she can in a church setting.

Apparently, she is required to take a class entitled "Marriage and Family".  I couldn't possibly comprehend what a class like this was meant to teach until she told me some of the subjects they've covered so far:  would you change your last name when you get married?, would you ask a guy out on a date? and a more unspoken topic:  have you landed your man yet?

After the initial shock wore off that this "education" exists, we started getting into the nitty-gritty of the topics at hand.  She told me that the professor [is that even a fair title??] always goes to her for the dissenting opinion.

When the class was asked if they would consider changing their names upon their, apparently inevitable marriage, they responded zombie-like, "yes, of course."  My friend responded:  "Not if their last name was stupid."  She was shunned.

When the class was asked if they would ever ask a guy out on a date they were appalled, shocked and resoundingly said "no"!  My friend's reply was:  "sure!".  They all turned around and gave her the death-stare, undoubtedly crossing her name off their wedding invitation list.

In 2011 it's hard for me to imagine that this passes as education.  The "lessons" being taught here are the exact reason I want to go back to my 19 year old self, grab her by the shoulders, shake some sense into her and say, "Stop wondering if you'll marry any of these guys!  You won't!  You'll find your own way and accomplish things you can't even imagine!  You'll have amazing friends, you'll travel, buy your own home at 25, have opinions and ideas you came to on your own and although sometimes you wish you had a partner, it turns out -- you won't need one!"  That girl lived in the late 90's and I'm sorry to say it doesn't seem like these 19 or 20 year olds have much of a fighting chance either despite the many years that have since passed.

They don't know yet that God has gifted them and maybe even called them to continue studying, teach [and not just children [gasp!  maybe adult men!], be engineers, artists, doctors, graphic designers, movie, TV or theatre producers, diplomats, protesters or business owners.  Honestly, I not only resent the way this school and our adults continue to pass on this mentality for keeping our women home and pigeon-holed but I also resent these young women for allowing it.  I resent them for depriving us of their God-given talents or gifts, they way they might affect change in the world because they're busy man-hunting because no one told them they didn't have to -- that they'd be ok, even great, if they waited or didn't do it at all.

I look forward to the day when girls grow up looking forward to being able to do it all:  work because they love it, work because they are following God's call, love their partners well and without selfishness and, even care for and raise their children too.