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.