Twenty-Nine

Just shy of two weeks ago, I turned 29. I'm still trying to process this. I guess over the years I've come to see my birthday as my personal New Year's Day or, at the very least, a kind of clean slate for new dreams. It doesn't always work, but I keep trying. 

For my birthday, I decided to stop messing with one area of my life that consistently screws me over: guys. I'm not trying to sound bitter, but my track record is painful. I really can't take any more rejection at this point. I've decided that until I run across a guy who feels like home, I'm done trying to win guys over or charm them. It's not worth the stress when I'm not even feeling real hope. 

The other thing I'm trying out is going to be a renewed effort to learn to play piano. I recently came into possession of one and I'm hoping to get it tuned this week. It's beautiful and all the keys work. Good things shall follow. 

Twenty-nine may not be a pivotal year that changes everything, but it will be a good year. I have faith in this. 

Gold Guns Girls

(This picture was taken by my friend Pauline Hauling while she was in Dubai.)

Oh, Metric...sometimes you have all the words.

Today I was listening to Metric's song "Gold Guns Girls," and I started to question it. I'm sure you've all sat and thought to yourself, "How can I look at these lyrics? Surely they can be deep and meaningful or have meaning from more than one angle..." Yeah, so maybe I'm alone in my thoughts, but this is what I think.

She sings, "I remembers when we were gambling to win/Everybody else said better luck next time/I don't wanna bend like the bad girls bend/I just wanna be your friend, is it ever gonna be enough?"

As I was listening to this tonight, for whatever reason, I realized this could be me. I think the original intention was probably that the question was directed to the guy she's supposed to be singing to, but I started thinking...maybe she's asking herself that question.

If she is, that could be me.

I remember when I was gambling to win. Everybody else said better luck next time. I don't want to bend like the bad girls bend. I just want to be your friend. Is it ever gonna be enough?

Can I deal with the fact I'm probably going to lose? Will I be able to handle people knowing that I lost yet again? And I don't want to be a "bad girl" just to get what I want. I don't want to be a "bad girl" at all actually. I definitely don't want to "bend" as they do. I want to be wanted and liked for what I am already.

And will being their friend ever really be enough?

Is that enough?

No.

Why Being One of the Guys is Not Always a Good Thing

Favorite things of this very moment (1:50 pm CST):

• Hearing "A Little Less Conversation" sung by Elvis blaring over the loudspeakers in a Chinese stadium
• Ice tea (I don't think I can mention this enough)
• Fresh pineapple
• Knowing I get to see Jenna in just a couple of hours
• Seeing Paxton at church this morning
• Watching all the little ones dance through the service today
• The tall one (he makes me happy)
• That Ben is loving the Twilight series (oh yes, another convert to my convoluted, beloved obsession)
• Pink handled scissors
• Hearing Mom say, "The man is the head of the household," and Joel responding with, "But the woman is the neck and she can turn the head whichever way she wants it."
• Perfect golden, beautiful sunshine highlighting the green and gorgeous trees and the wonderful cool weather

Jay and I went to Rockford this evening to visit Jenna. Met up at Starbucks, and after collecting a few humorous books, we sat down in the "cafe" and enjoyed our time.

The conversations that I have on these kind of visits are my favorite. Jay was a great addition to the mini-group. It was beautiful. So much awkward, so many topics, so many bad accents, so much shared humor, ridiculous insults, strange comments, and laughter. It needs to happen more often. Truly.

The question that most sticks in my mind was when Jay asked why it's so bad to be one of the guys. We had established that I am not a "normal" girl. That I am better capable to deal with and understand guys than girls in a lot of ways. They just make me feel more understood and comfortable. Jay didn't understand how it could be a pain for me to be one of the boys.

Let me explain. It's not that I don't enjoy being one of the guys. In a lot of ways it's great. I enjoy being able to spend huge amounts of time with large quantities of testosterone. I feel at ease there and I can hold my own. I make great friends who are loyal, protective, and wonderful this way. The problem is that you don't ever get to be anything more.

I am the girl every guy wants around. They "need" me. But they don't really. I'm a substitute person when they aren't in relationships, I am the best friend.

The problem is...I still haven't found anyone who really wants me. Who really needs me. Who sees me as a women, not just a best friend. That's why being one of the guys isn't the best. It's great, but until I find a guy who can see me for all that I am...it won't be completely awesome.

Someday. Maybe someday soon...

Well, I'll keep dreaming.

Twenty-Two

Favorite things of this very moment (3:29 pm CST):

• Multiple emails from Jay
• Getting birthday wishes
• Being able to use my sunglasses
• Being able to see more than 10 ft
• Coffee with vanilla soy milk, sugar, and cinnamon in it
• John Mayer (in all his various forms)
• Talking to Nikky and having her help me decide on which kind of Milano cookies would work best for my pie-ish-thing recipe
• Justin Masterman putting together a benefit concert for the Callaways (he is a wonder)
• New music
• Sweet/Sappy birthday cards
• Knowing Josh, Jen, Kyle, Angie, and Nathan will be here tomorrow night
• Creating bracelets out of pieces of yarn that are so pretty I can't find a reason to throw them away
• Contacts
• Pride & Prejudice by Jane Austin (in all it's print and media and take-off forms)
• Collin Firth
• Graph paper notebooks
• The "Twilight" movie trailer (http://www.imdb.com/video/trailer/vi2380464409/)

Today I am 22 years old. I do not feel 22. I feel about 13. I'm still awkward, I'm still socially inept, I'm still single, and I'm still living with my parents.

Perhaps I'm the female version of Wayne Campbell. It's too bad Nikky and I don't live next door to each other, we'd make a great Wayne & Garth pair. (Well, we do anyway, but having the entire state of Indiana between us makes it a little hard to function normally.)

Birthdays are a fickle thing. I like birthdays is some ways. I enjoy being surprised by people's thoughtfulness. I love cake (or pie or whatever substitute we use and stick candles in). I enjoy the well-wishes and the emails and the notes, but they still lack something.

I'm not good with the attention. I don't know what it is, maybe I feel I don't deserve it, or maybe I'm trying hard not to care about it because they never seem that special to me. I've had to share my birthday with a great deal of traveling, weddings, and tragedy over the past several years, not to mention having one of my best friends repeatedly forget my birthday and then always try to buy me off with some gift.

I just wish there was a nice balance. I don't like being fussed over, but I do like feeling special. I don't need anything extravagant, but it is nice to be remembered.

I guess in a lot of ways the attention I've always received on my birthday always seemed kind of fake, and fake is not something I'm real thrilled with.

Meh.

I feel guilty for even caring it's my birthday this year. I've got several close friends dealing with funerals for close family members this week, and one of my best friends is trying to recover from a broken heart. What is a birthday in comparison to their tragedies?

Again, I say unto you, meh.

And so, I appreciate that kindness of my friends, the gifts, the cards, the notes, and just how generally sweet everyone is. It means a lot, even if I sound like a grouch today. I'm not really, I've been having good things happen and indulging myself a little. Bought myself a little John Mayer Trio and got my eyes checked so I can use my contacts again. Sometimes I forget that I really do have lovely eyes. Muahaha.

Now, if only I could receive the magical powers to play match maker and to heal broken hearts for my birthday. Wouldn't that be lovely? Best birthday gifts ever if I could make everyone around me happy. I think that would make me happy too.

Maybe somewhere, deep down, I am growing up. I guess this is just the beginning of another year for me and we'll have to wait and see...

Good night.

To Reinvent

Favorite things of this very moment (6:45 pm):

• My laptop
• My long-sleeved white knit shirt that I wear under everything
• Tall, blond me with glasses who make life incredibly awkward while discussing the swimsuit competition of beauty pageants ("Oh, they'll know...")
• The fact that no matter what stage we are in or point we are at in our lives, we can always change or reinvent ourselves
• My covenant ring because it keeps me grounded and reminds me of all that I look forward to and long for (see prior note about tall, blond...)
• The kindness of strangers (but completely not in the Scarlett O'Hara way)
• Blowing bubbles with my gum
• Facebook Virtual Bookshelf
  

I decided to delete all the books of my facebook virtual bookshelf expect for the ones that I'd read recently. I've already decided that in January, I'm going to delete all the books I have listed and start over. I figure that will show much what I'm reading and make life a little more interesting for me. It's silly and small, but it will keep me entertained. I've always wondered how many books I read in a year, and I figure it's time I check this out. *shrugs*

Bizarrely enough, Kimmieboo and Jereme may be coming up this weekend for AOP. I am strangely nervous about seeing Jereme for the first time in over a year. I get so dumb sometimes. So self-conscious.

Whatever happens, this weekend should be interesting. AOP always is. A lot of people that have grown up here hate it. Mostly guys. It's a craft weekend, so I don't really blame them, but I like AOP for reasons far beyond the crafts. To start there's the Renaissance fair up at the castle and there's the rendezvous out at LOMC. There's GREAT food. Funnel cakes, gyros, walking tacos, cookies. But, my favorite part is the fact that I can walk through this huge group of people and either be invisible or find someone to say hi to every couple steps. I feel safe in this giant surge of people. It's a very strange feeling, but I really enjoy it.

I wish you could legitimately give surveys to people who fascinate you without it seeming creepy. There are so many things I would love to know about people, but I never feel like I have a good way of asking. Simple things like favorite colors, movies, books, foods...I always feel silly asking. But I want to know. I always want to know. There's always something more to learn about others and I'd love to know it.

And how often are we asked questions like this and we completely blow them off? Or we try to answer them and then realize that they really don't care? That they just wanted a way to bring up a topic so they could tell you all about what they think without ever actually listening to your answer...

I don't want to be like that either. I want to learn and to be learned about. I want to be sought out, fascinating to someone else.

Eh, eventually. Well, enough of my rambles!
Good night.