A Mid Week Thought

One of the most annoying things that married people say is that you will find love when you stop looking for it. And yet, every single time I have ever been hit on (for lack of a better phrase) it has happened at a time when men and/or my own attractiveness was the absolute last thing on my mind.

There's probably a lesson to be learned there, but I mostly just find it irritating. When I'm caught off guard, I do one of two things:

1. I say nothing but look slightly cross.

2. I say stupid things. Honest things..... but stupid things.

The former is just awkward. The latter is entertaining for those that know me well, but just confusing for anyone else.

(And if the situation is really extreme....the two get combined. I say stupid, honest things and look mad about it. And you wondered why I make a bad first impression.....)

Could YOU say no to this face?

I Hate To Quote Garth Brooks

I had a short but interesting conversation the other day with two friends while we were in a mall food court, of all places. The gist of it was that God has really saved us from ourselves more times than we probably even realize. But we were all able to quickly bring to mind past situations and relationships that we were so sure of at the time-- and yet in retrospect were the last thing we needed.

And it's such an obvious thing for someone who has faith-- but for some reason, I've never spent a lot of time thinking about the fact that I have a God who knows me far, far better than I know myself. I think maybe it is because I pride myself on being rather aware (for lack of a better word) of my own thoughts and feelings and the motivations behind what I do and say. I like to think I can anticipate most eventualities....but the fact is, I can't.

That's what this conversation brought home to me. There have been times in my life where I could have told you without a doubt what I wanted, what I needed. But, to paraphrase a dear friend, I was an idiot. Thankfully, God was there protecting me from myself.

But it makes me wonder-- was there a still, soft voice I was ignoring? Was there a niggling at my heart that I just refused to acknowledge? I think there have been times where I've heard that voice and let it guide me. But how many times have I ignored it because it wasn't what my heart wanted me to hear? How much pain and confusion could have been avoided?

I've always been someone who tried to follow my heart. But I've realized that there's no point in following your heart unless you've given it over to the One that created it.

In Case You Didn't Believe Me

It's Tornado Night! The Weathermen are very excited!!






I'm having trouble picking my favorite quote of the night. But for right now, I think it would have to be "Oh Boy!".

And if the house is wiped away tonight, you will know that :

a) Tornados do have access to the world wide web and
b) Tornados don't have much of a sense of humor

Will keep you updated as time and electricity allow......


Oh, and before I forget: for anyone who ever doubted, there IS a Xerox plant in this town and all storm positioning must be done around this very important land mark.

Frustration of the Day:

There's no real effective way to honk at the car behind you.

Early Morning Thought

I wore a (borrowed) watch earlier this week for the first time in about 5 years for reasons that don't merit explanation. And even though I only had it on for an hour and a half, it was enough to convince me I wouldn't mind going another 5 years without. I have no idea why it annoyed me so much, but it did. And even though I have at least one if not two perfectly functional watches, and my day would go easier today if I wore one, I'm not going to.

So there you go.

Oops

I didn't realize how long it had actually been since I posted. And even now, I'm not sure I have anything that interesting to say. The only thing of note I can point out at the moment is that I sat near a Scottish family last night. In fact, I spoke to a few members of that family--- but it was so loud I completely missed the best part of meeting someone from Scotland-- their accent. Someone else had to point it out to me. So you wouldn't think I would have had much of a reaction to it.

But....no.

I honestly don't know why-- but it made me giddy....almost hyper. Just ask my roomate who made the mistake of trying to take me through the Taco Bueno drive-thru afterwards. I was completely discombobulated by the mere presence of someone from the British Isles. It's not the first time, and I'm sure it won't be the last. And I have no idea why it happens.

And Here Comes 30

I didn't have a lot of expectations for my 29th birthday. But here's one thing I didn't expect:

Snow!



Color me unimpressed.

Tis The Season

Now, I know what you must be wondering.... what season? The Spring Season? The Easter Season? The March Madness Season? And to all of these, I answer.....maybe, but that's not what I am talking about.

it is now rapidly approaching what I like to call the "meteorological Freak Out Season".

Yes, it is that fine time of year when -- if you are lucky enough to live in "Tornado Alley"-- you are subjected to the hyperactive rantings of over stimulated weather men. If there is a "dustnato" anywhere in the state, they will interrupt programming to let you know. And if there is a wall cloud in sight, you can hear the drool dripping off of their chins as they talk about it on every radio station for 100 miles.

Having seen the devastation the Spring storms can bring, you would think they would be happy when no weather materializes....when a storm blows itself out without turning into more....when a funnel cloud forms but never touches down. But what never ceases to amaze me is how poorly they mask their disappointment when there is no damage. Don't get me wrong-- I appreciate what they do and would want their warning if it was just a drop of hail headed my way. What I object to is that absolutely unhinged lust they have for these storms. You can see the glint in the eyes of the weather vultures-- the adrenaline rush they get that nicely compliments the inflated self-importance.

And yes...Gary England, I'm talking to you.

A Question For the Ages

I think there must be two completely different sets of single people in the world.

I keep hearing about people who are unmarried because they are "selfish" and "self absorbed". Apparently there are entire books about people who haven't married because they can't meet anyone who lives up to some grand standard they have created in their mind....people who are so stuck on some romantic ideal that they look right past the people they see every day. And I hear about it so often, I suppose it must be true. I know there are likely a great many people who may have these issues. But you know what? I also know that a great number of them are not single. I would wager that there are just as many disatisfied married people out there who suffer the same fate. They are selfish and self-absorbed. Their spouse can't live up to the grand standard they have created in their mind. And they are so focused on a romantic ideal, they look right past the hundred of kind and thoughtful things their spouse might do for them every day.

But there's another kind of single person out there-- one that includes the vast majority of single people in their 20s or 30s that I know. These people aren't unmarried because they are picky. They aren't single because they have unrealistic expectations. And if they are a little selfish sometimes, it's mainly because they've lived on their own for a long time and it's one of the privileges. The bottom line is that they are simply looking for a connection that they just haven't found yet. That's it. No more, no less. Some people are lucky-- they find it early. And while it takes strength of character to make a marriage work, the sheer existence of it isn't some mark of worthiness. And that's what I find so tiring. There are thousands (who knows-- probably millions) of unmarried people out there who deserve more than an assumption of dysfunction. They deserve respect for the strength of character it takes to be alone in a world made for couples. As my mother taught me: the worst case of loneliness is better than the best bad marriage.

I used to waffle back and forth in my mind over whether or not friendship should be a simple thing. I guess it was kind of a silly thing to ponder-- since no matter what it should be, friendships both young and old are never simple.

When I was in grade school, the big decision was about who was going to be your "best friend". It was kind of a sacred thing, really-- an exchange of trust. And in the 80s, it was even about an exchange of jewelry in the form of the best friend necklaces that were halves of a heart. My first best friend was an interesting lesson. She wore "our" necklace around me. She wore her other best friend necklaces around her other friends. I still wonder how many she had. And even at 10, I wondered why she didn't just bother to tell me she wasn't my best friend....why she swapped half a heart with me in the first place. Even then, I would have preferred the truth.

In middle school, true friendship became a rare thing. I ate lunch in the bathroom just so I didn't have to sit by myself. It sounds pathetic, I realize--but I can laugh about quite easily now because even at the time I wasn't a tortured soul. I was kind of impressed with myself for finding a way around eating by myself in the lunch room. I didn't think of myself as someone without friends-- but looking back I felt it. I know now that what I felt was an absence of trust. I think for many, many people-- that is the ultimate lesson of junior high: trust no one. At least, no one your own age.

High school and college were different. There were many friends and there were many trusts created. Some have stood the test of time, many have not. But none of them were ever simple. And yet, the best relationships are the ones that are the easiest....the ones that don't make you try hard.....the people you don't have to constantly please. I try to reconcile those two thoughts. Isn't something easy because it's simple?

But really, I've come to believe that the converse is true. That my best relationships are easy because they are far from simple. They are complex in emotion and in thought. They are creative and impulsive and shape shifting as the years go by. They are occasionally challenging, always educational, and never silent.

The truth of the matter is, a simple friendship cannot last because it cannot change.

I've once again been reprimanded for my lack of updates. I guess we can chalk this up to a lack of things I feel compelled to comment on lately.

I'm going to see Coldplay on Monday night-- but the primary reason I bought the tickets is because Fiona Apple is opening for them. It's hard to explain why I like her music so much. Really, I can sum it up in one word: lyrics. In fact, there are lots of the songs that I love in spite of the melody. But for people who don't pay attention to the lyrics of songs, that makes no sense.

My favorite line of the week?

"I think he let me down when he didn't disappoint me"

I've always had a thing for song lyrics. When I was 12 I had a notebook that I wrote down all of the lyrics that I thought were deep and meaningful. Of course, they were mostly Bon Jovi and Billy Joel songs, but work with me. I was 12. And since this was before the days of the internet, it meant I had to listen to the songs over and over until I could get all the words down. Even then, I'm sure more than a few were wrong. But I was proud of that notebook. I never showed anyone, but I was proud of it nonetheless.

So I'm looking forward to Monday night. It will be interesting to see if the live experience enhances the meaning or distracts from it.

Griffin Reid Thomas: My New Favorite Baby

As of one hour ago, I have a new nephew.

I'm laying here in bed listening to the rain and thunder, and I can't go back to sleep because there's a new little person in the world that I love.

You have joined a crazy, wonderful family little guy, and I think I can safely promise that you will always have way more love than you know what to do with.

Griffin, I want to hold you rather badly-- but as your are way too far away for that, I will simply be content with thanking God that you are here.

January 28 just became an amazing day.

Glamour Girl Morning

So today I decided to bless you all with, uhm.....not my every thought. But I did bring my lovely camera (thanks mom! thanks dad!) along with me today to document the glamerous life a career gal.

Step one: Get up before the sun decides to





Step two: Convince myself that I am wide awake and ready to face the day by abusing the flash function on my camera










Step three: Admire the pretty sunrise and try to ignore the sight/aroma of the fabulous Purina factory











Step four: Do not yell at the struggle of a driver who does not realize he should make his truck go higher than 50 on the TURNPIKE so that your 30 minute drive to work doesn't become your 50 minute drive to work!









Step five: Remember that the entire state is one giant fire hazard and not be alarmed by the CAUTION signs that are flashing over every interstate.











Step six: Enjoy the all imporant caffeine fix that Sonic kindly provides










There now..... wasn't that interesting? Aren't you glad you spent the morning with me? Just wait for the day Susan and I document our lunch hour! That will leave you breathless.

A Little of Nothing

I've been terrible about updating lately. Even my last post was more about me finally figuring out how to post a picture than anything else, really. But every time I think about posting something, I start the same interior dialogue I have before writing anything that will be semi public-- and that's how is this going to be interpreted? That constant, nagging thought is one of the hazards of actually sharing something like this with friends/family.

It's weird to write something that you know your parents will be overanalyzing (I had to inherit the gift from somewhere!) at the same time your friends are trying decide if you are talking about them or not. I have a hard time shutting that inner voice off. A close friend (who shall remain nameless but is no doubt smirking) once told me to quit analyzing everything so much. My only response was "Uhm, yeah-- do you know me at all? Of course he did, and that's why he was saying that in the first place.

Turning your brain off and just going with the flow can be a strange problem to have. I don't have that problem in all areas....but in writing it definately poses its hazards. A good writing teacher would probably just tell me, well, actually--- I don't know what a good writing teacher would tell me. In 6 years of studying literature, I never took a writing class. Never even thought about it, actually. But that's something to analyze another day.

Maybe I missed my calling as a therapist.

So when I was driving home for Christmas I got so distracted by the horizon that I literally had to pull my car over. On one side was one of the coolest sunsets I've ever seen. On the other side was a complete rainbow (though I have no evidence of that, so you'll just have to take my word for it).

10 Things Not To Get Me For Christmas

10. A fur coat. (It's not so much an animal rights thing as it is a I've never seen anyone wear one and not look like they are trying to be an German Countess thing)

9. A personalized license plate. (If you have to ask why-- then you probably don't know me well enough to buy me a present in the first place)

8. Wonder Woman Underoos (Any member of my family would be thrilled to explain this one to you as it's almost a Christmas tradition in our household. First we have the hershey kiss countdown and then we have the telling of the time Sarah cried)

7. Cabbage Patch Kid Bunk Beds (I know you wouldn't want to duplicate something I already have! Of course, I never got to use them as my parents broke them on Christmas Day only to never get them fixed, but the ensuing 18 years or so have clearly erased the bitterness from my mind)

6. A Nose Flute (Sadly, I already have one of these as well. What can I say? Even "santa" gets a little desperate every now and then)

5. "A.L.F." on DVD

4. Any movie or books about fiesty old people. (I don't know who decided that making up stories involving cranky people past their prime was a great method for entertaning the masses, but you owe me 2 hours of my life back for "Driving Miss Daisy"-- and even though I never saw "Grumpy Old Men" or the classic, "Grumpier Old Men" I feel you owe me something for them as well....mostly just for the fact that they exist.)

3. No theme purses. (The rare person other than me can pull it off. However, I am not one of those people-- nor do I have any interest in being one of those people)

2. An ice cream scoop (OK, this one isn't really true. At this stage in my life, it would be great to get a new ice cream scoop. But I mostly just brought it up to point out that someone gave me an Ice Cream Scoop for my HIGH SCHOOL GRADUATION. What kind of thought process went into this? "OK, let's see.....she's 18, she's going off to college, what can we get her that will really send her on her way towards success?" Unless of course the goal was to send me on to success in gaining the "freshman 15" -- then I will have to say: Job well done, sir!)

1. Dating/Relationship Manuals of any kind. (I don't care if it's "Sole-Searching: The Art of Judging Men by Their Shoes" or "Almost Three Decades Alone! Do You Feel Like a Failure Yet?" or even "He's Just Not That Into You-- Yeah You. Hey! You! I Really Do Mean YOU!", do us all a favor and leave it on the shelf)

drabbles

I have a million different notebooks with a million different scribbles in them. I'm always finding old ones whose existence I've completely forgotten about shoved under my bed, stuffed into a drawer or crammed in between two books on my book shelf. And just for good measure, there are usually loose pages scattered in the mix as well.

I love finding these notebooks-- because it almost always means I'm going to find a "ramble" that I've completely forgotten that I'd written. It has occurred to me more than once in the past that if I died in the near future (and my preoccupation since childhood with planning my funeral is another topic for another day), whoever cleans out my room is going to get an eyeful-- especially if they don't know that not everything they read is fact. Rants about frustrations lay side by side with abandoned stories. It's the muddle of my brain.

For example, here's something I found on a scrap of paper in my desk today:


When I was 10, I couldn't wait to be a grown up. Being a grown up meant wearing clicky shoes whenever you wanted, wearing your Sunday dress all day because you were old enough not to mess it up. It meant my brother and sister not bossing me around anymore. At least that's what I thought it would be about. The funny thing is, now when I wear clicky shoes at work I wish they wouldn't make so much noise in the hall. I can't wait to get my "Sunday" clothes off when I get home, and my brother and sister still occasionally boss me around.

It's funny how we don't even know what the right things to look forward to are.


I don't remember what even prompted those thoughts....or why they are on a random slip of paper. Chances are I scribbled them while waiting for Bobby at IHOP one night or sitting in the courtyard during my lunch hour when Susan and Jessie weren't there.

They are the random thoughts that anyone has a million of as the day goes by. Don't ask me why I feel the need to record the snapshots of opinion that appear in my brain. But I'm sure I've written about it somewhere.

All I Want For Christmas

Ah, Christmas.

There are many, many glamorous aspects to the Christmas season if you are a career gal like myself. I've been really into lists lately, so inspired by a truly fabulous episode of The Office and a personal office that is perhaps unparalleled in holiday cheer-- I've decided to make a list of my favorite things about work during Christmas

*First on my list has got to be seasonal clothing of any kind.
Now, there are some amateurs out there who may think they are being festive with their red sweaters and green slacks. But to those people I pose these questions: Where is your battery operated sweatshirt? Where are your jingle bell socks? Did you honestly think that winter boots would suffice when there are Santa slippers out there to be had? And what are those gold bead earrings in your ears? A true aficionado would know where to find her Christmas light earrings that play "Have a Holly Jolly Christmas". Who do you think you are fooling? Until your office literally has a seasonal clothing swap meet, I defy you to prove your holiday dressing credentials.

*Dirty Santa.
I'm not sure which memory I prefer. The gangland-like enforcement of the $15 spending rule, or the middle school peer pressure involved in helping people trade out of presents they don't want. I mean, on the one hand you have an astonishing ability to track down "secret" gift givers and demand receipts to prove that they stayed within the limits of "enough to impress people but not enough to make them jealous and petty". But on the other hand, you have the beautiful subtlety involved in middle aged women attempting to engage in reverse psychology and/or emotional manipulation in order to keep the crystal special-edition Hallmark ornament they just opened, or to try and rid themselves of the stigma of having opened the weird candle someone (who shall remain nameless and can be a little scatterbrained occasionally but is still highly lovable) brought.

*Office Party Entertainment
Now don't get me wrong, I enjoy famous people's siblings who may or may not be able to sing as much as the next gal, but when they tell us funny stories about their unwed, pregnant, teenage daughter and find a way to use it as a transition into Oh Holy Night.....well, you just have to admire craftsmanship. But if pitchy, never famous country singers aren't your bag of tea-- there are always insane musicians who can not only play the piano while clearly possessed-- but also chuck food at audience members. If that doesn't get your holiday going, I'm not sure what will.

Hm........

Seer


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