Popcorn Jellybeans

This summer has been unusual.  To be real honest, I'm extremely grateful it's finally coming to a close.  I got quite a bit of traveling in, saw first hand what the benefit of having a grief counselor at camp is, brought home a new kitten, junked my car, resigned from my dream job, and moved back in with my parents.  I've developed new scars on my ankles, feet, and hands; given away about a third of what I own; and finally started reading the copy of Catch-22 that my brother gave me; and I've tried to be more honest with people about my feelings.  I've read more books and watched less NetFlix.  I got to spend some time playing with my nieces and nephews (though there's never enough time) and learned to write cover letters.  I toyed with recipes, hung out with friends, continued a long-standing word game, and even vacuumed behind my bed.  It's been a different kind of summer.

The past couple of weeks I've felt like I was losing hope, and I've been spending more time awake worrying and overthinking than I'd like to admit.  There's nothing better than trying to do math at 4 in the morning because you're trying to figure out what you have left in your account and if you're going to be able to make it till you find a new job or (which should just happen) someone finally pays you what they owe you for work you did earlier in the summer/spring.

But God shows up.  In my depression and doubt, I've been struggling to pray because I just didn't feel like I had anything to say that would be any different than anything I've said before.  I've dealt with depression before, but usually I find comfort drawing closer to God.  This time I just felt like I was in O'Hare where they keep moving my gate and delaying my flight with no end in sight.  Thankfully, even though I've been feeling like everything is pointless and my life is starting to crumble about the edges, my friends and family stepped up.  Someone was always there to remind me that they loved me and had my back, and just as important, they were praying for me.  My friends, my family, my church...they kept praying.  They kept reminding me that someone good was on it's way.

Today, after getting stung by a bee, bit by a beetle, not being able to find job postings, and being told there was no longer a job opening at one of the places I was trying to apply to, I finally got a call back about a position that I really was hoping for.  I go in this coming Wednesday to go over the details of the offer and start the hiring process.  I could not be more grateful for this opportunity.  It's going to make me have to learn to flip my sleep schedule completely since I will be going to work extremely early in the morning, but I will be able to walk the 3 blocks to work from my house and by November I will have real health insurance.  This answers so many prayers and I am so grateful.

God showed up.  I need to start remembering that just because I don't think it's possible or am feeling like things are a lost cause, I am not the final say.  God can make it happen, and He's not going to abandon me when I need him most.  He will show up and He will come through for me.  I hope you can see that too and find your own popcorn jellybeans.


ps.  Favorite Things of This Very Moment (1:45 AM CST):

• John Mayer
• The Cat Who book series
• My Hawaiian Breeze fan
• The fact that the temperature seems to be dropping
• Knowing I get to go to Rockford with my family in the morning
• Major League (the movie)
• Handheld Tetris
• My large and wonderful hospital water bottle that keeps things cold for ages and ages
• That I'm actually tired and should be able to fall asleep pretty close to instantly after I get off this thing
• Recycling

A Lot of Words I was Desperately Needing to Hear

I initially thought to myself: I want to title this post as "I'm Mad as Hell and I'm Not Going to Take it Anymore!" but then I thought...that really doesn't apply to what I want to say.

I'm not really sure all of what I want to say, but I can say this: He's Just Not That Into You by Greg Behrendt and Liz Tuccillo is like a smack upside the head tonight. The movie was excellent, but the other day I realized Amber had a copy of this fantastical book, and as she's disappeared on me for the weekend, I decided to commandeer the book and read it. I don't think I'll regret this.

In fact, with any luck, I'll actually think before I act. Miraculously, the first thing they try to impress on their readers is that if a guy likes you, he'll find a way to get to you. He'll do whatever it takes to call or get to know you. I already know this. I've learned this over the years. The guy needs to make the first move. Maybe you meet them somewhere and you really like them, but until they ask for your number or ask you out or find a way to get in touch with you...there's no point.

Don't get me wrong, I've heavily advocated making the first move over the years. For crying out loud, I've been the one making the first move for years. I meant no disrespect and I certainly didn't mean to throw off the groove of the guy I liked, but I also am not good at sitting around and waiting for a guy to pursue me. The thing I've learned though is that if I make the first move, the relationship never really works. Something always falls apart. Part of that is probably the fact that I never felt desired, but it also seemed like the guy was even less likely to do anything. He seemed almost lazy about everything between us.

I deserve better than that.

So do you.

I just finished reading Chapter 3 "he's just not that into you if he's not dating you: 'Hanging out' is not dating," and it really hits home. This sums up...everything. I can't deny that I like having guy friends. They're great, and I don't want to change that, but this chapter also pointed out that it's not worth waiting forever for a guy that says you're his "best friend."

This is when it hit me: I am the rule. Dang.

I realized that I've grown up with the belief that I am exactly like my mom. That my fairy tale relationship would probably be born under the same circumstances. That I would be some guy's "best friend" and that I'd spend all my time with him and he'd probably date other girls and confide in me, and then suddenly --like lightning!-- he'd realize I was the only one for him. This is what happened to my parents. They dated for a week, broke up, were best friends for about a year, and then my dad suddenly realized that he couldn't handle the idea of being apart from my mom. They were married 4 months later.

My mom was the exception. I on the other hand...I am the rule.

Dang.

Again, I'm not going to stop being friends with guys, but I am going to try to stop allowing myself this crazed fantasy that if I just hang around long enough that a guy will change his mind about me. It doesn't work that way. If a guy actually wanted me, he'd pursue me.

I have to believe I'm worth that though. That I am valuable and worthy of love and, just as important, that I am desirable. The last one will be the hardest for me to really wrap my head around, but I think if I could do that...I could actually do this waiting thing.

I am worth it. I am serious business, and someday soon someone else will realize that, and then I'll be glad I didn't waste my time with the rest of these jokers.

Just so you know, you're gorgeous and worth it too. Someone out there is madly in love with you, and you'll know it when they find you. I will too.

Yes, Yes I Will.

by Andre Jordan, http://www.abeautifulrevolution.com/blog/absurd/index.html

Oh Let Me Tell You a Story

“But I know about art and love, if only because I long for it with every fiber of my being.”
- Toulouse-Lautrec, Moulin Rouge

Some nights all I can do is wonder. A lot of it comes from the simple fact that I am tired, but also is partially because I can feel the loneliness trying to knock me down again.
Solitude seems to be something I slink back into far too often lately. I’ll spend half my evening with my family only to retreat to the sanctuary of my bedroom to play songs that only make the situation more obvious.

“She’s hiding.”
“No, she said she was writing something. You know, working on one of those projects of her’s.”
“I still think she’s hiding. Something is wrong.”
“Oh, you worry too much. She needs the quiet to think.”

My bedroom door is right off the living room and it does nothing to dispel the noise coming from the TV. This is why music can often be heard blaring from my room at any one point in the day. It’s all I can do to keep myself sane and finish a thought.
Now, there’s nothing wrong with my family watching TV and hanging out in the living room. On the contrary, it’s comforting to hear them out there. It means that I’m not alone…

I am tired. All I can do is think of him. I’m so tired of thinking only about him. Sometimes the music subdues the thoughts, but usually, as it’s doing tonight, it just elevates the issue.
He’s a musician. In each song, I can hear him singing, and in each song, I am singing to him. I can make anything become a song from me to him.
We sang together once. At a camp. He had been asked to lead the songs during the nightly campfire, and I knew the songs all by heart. Our voices blend so beautifully. He has a gorgeous tenor voice that is smooth as silk, but can drop down low to make each word stick in your mind. It makes me want to melt. I know if it ever is directed at me, I won’t be able to resist it.
Did I mention he plays guitar? That he writes his own music? He does. Right now he’s waiting for the mastered cd to be completely finished. All the artwork, the copies, everything…I get one of the first copies of the cd. He seemed surprised that I would want one, and I was surprised he didn’t know that I would want one.
I hang on his every word. Tell him how much I enjoy his music, his voice, everything. What more do I need to say?

Nights like this tend to break my heart. One more night without a phone call.
I asked him if he wanted to hang out with me sometime this weekend. Alright, so I sent this invitation via email, but still…
But if he called…what would I do?
I would instantly agree to any plan he would want to make. A movie? Great. Walk around town? Wonderful. Midnight trip to Walmart? My favorite. Tap dancing on BBQ’s? Splendid, I couldn’t love anything more.
And then the panic would start.

I’ve never had much experience in the arena of dating. To me, it seems a lot like being thrown to the lions, and if, by the grace of God, you are lucky enough to find an angel…you are the lucky one.
How does it all work? How am I supposed to keep up a conversation for the entirety of a date? Do you hold hands? As the woman, am I supposed to allow him to initiate any form of affection? Or do I reach for his hand during the movie?
And how do you know if it’s a date anyway? Any more, he could just want some company because he’s bored. Do I need to have him flat-out tell me that we’re on a date? Or is it simply implied because I personally need a flat-out explanation.

I’m ashamed to do it, but I have to quote Dr. Meredith Grey of Grey’s Anatomy because I find this quote to pretty much exactly sum it up:
Intimacy is a four syllable word for, "Here's my heart and soul, please grind them into hamburger, and enjoy." It's both desired, and feared. Difficult to live with, and impossible to live without.

I can’t decide what I am more scared of: him wanting me or him rejecting me.

I want him to want me. I need him to need me. I’d love him to love me…err. Sorry, it’s just that Cheaptrick really perfect sometimes. Those words totally apply right now. I do want him. And more than almost anything else, I want him to want me too.
Like I said before, I’m scared of him too. Let me try to better explain: he’s fricking perfect. Alright, that’s not true, but he does fascinate me and I’m just afraid that he’s going to realize, I’m really not. I’m just a girl who loves bright colors, but only wants to wear black. Who constantly fights with her weight, but never seems to win. A girl who loves to read books, but has yet to successfully finish any of her writing projects. Who aspires to be something great, but still hasn’t decided what avenue is necessary to attain greatness. I am still discovering me. Could I actually create a curiosity in him?

On the other hand, rejection is what I am expecting. I realize a defeatist attitude is not a healthy one to carry in life, but my luck in love has been slim. I am nothing like the girls he has dated before. They’ve all been beautiful, petite, skinny women. I am not them.
The last girl he liked, well, she is my best friend. Another gorgeous, skinny girl with a spectacular sense of humor, strong beliefs, and an incredibly generous nature. He started calling her every night just to talk. He is incredibly shy. We knew he liked her. He never had a chance to actually ask her out, she was already seeing someone else. He just hadn’t found out yet.
He doesn’t call me.
Okay, so he does call me. But only when he’s not going to make it to something. Then I am like his version of a sick note or an excuse slip. I guess I can’t complain, he calls me first, but I could really use a phone call of another sort.
With this lack of any real evidence towards the contrary, I believe there is a good chance I am headed straight for heartbreak yet again.

I don’t care anymore.
That may not exactly be the right way to characterize it. I guess what I’m really trying to say is that, well, if heartbreak is on the way, so be it. He’s amazing. I enjoy spending time with him, and as long as I have that opportunity, I’m going to take it. Who knows, maybe attitudes will change.
Besides, every time I pray about it, God sends me word: WAIT. I don’t know what I’m waiting for, but I know that I’m to wait. Which is fine. I’ve got time. I need to be praying for God to keep me strong and patient. These lonely nights are the hard part because I’m still not sure what I’m waiting for.
But hey, it can only get better. Right?