1. Someone adopted Gracie. So I am not yet getting a dog. And that's ok, because...
2. I am not yet moving. I felt very rushed and not incredibly at ease so have decided to wait until March to move. So I still remain...
3. The Girl in 3 G. For about a month and a half. Then A gets married and I become The Girl in 2 G.
But you know what? Chris will STILL not make my lattes. Ever.
Wednesday, December 23, 2009
Thursday, December 17, 2009
What's new in the life of C you ask?
1. This blog is called The Girl In 3 G because I live in a house with two other girls. (3 Girls... 3 G... get it?) Pretty soon I won't be The Girl in 3 G anymore because...
2. since A's getting married and her and her husband to be won't just live downstairs while my happy little self stays upstairs, I just got a new apartment. I will be moving in about 17 days. By myself. I've never lived by myself before. I'm a little nervous and scared that I will be lonely. So...
3. I'm getting a dog. She's a red and gold basset hound mama that I have dubbed Gracie. She just had puppies not too long ago and was dropped at the pound almost 10 days ago. No one else has come to look at her, which means she's likely to be put down. :( Dad's going to keep her until I move. :) So, the dog is the first great thing about moving, and the second is...
4. I will be significantly closer to Tina & Co. and church. Whoo hoo! What's not so great about where I'm moving is that the closest Starbucks is the one that I do NOT frequent. (It's all your fault, Chris! All your fault! You'll never make my lattes again!)
4.
2. since A's getting married and her and her husband to be won't just live downstairs while my happy little self stays upstairs, I just got a new apartment. I will be moving in about 17 days. By myself. I've never lived by myself before. I'm a little nervous and scared that I will be lonely. So...
3. I'm getting a dog. She's a red and gold basset hound mama that I have dubbed Gracie. She just had puppies not too long ago and was dropped at the pound almost 10 days ago. No one else has come to look at her, which means she's likely to be put down. :( Dad's going to keep her until I move. :) So, the dog is the first great thing about moving, and the second is...
4. I will be significantly closer to Tina & Co. and church. Whoo hoo! What's not so great about where I'm moving is that the closest Starbucks is the one that I do NOT frequent. (It's all your fault, Chris! All your fault! You'll never make my lattes again!)
4.
Tuesday, December 1, 2009
If I were to get married this Friday...
1. I'd be missing the most precious Christmas with my roommates ever.
2. I wouldn't have gotten to spend all of Sunday decorating the tree and having roommate Thanksgiving.
3. I would be sleeping in a bedroom with colors I hate.
4. I wouldn't get to spend Christmas Eve night and Christmas Day with my family.
5. I wouldn't feel this relaxed right now.
6. I would be stressing over so many things: how on earth are we going to go on a honeymoon? did he pay rent? does he actually have a job to come back to? when is he going to leave me?
7. I would be in very real danger of bringing a child into a life that would most likely include a single mother.
8. I would miss out on what actually IS God's best... a man that will actually love me, not just be content with the knowledge that I'm around somewhere when he's bored, needs transportation, someone to blame things on, someone to pay for things, etc.
Joey was right. There's a difference between Mr. Right and Mr. Close Enough. I was so incredibly deceived into thinking that he was Mr. Right when he was actually neither.
Ric said that he wouldn't approve of any boyfriend I brought home untiil I found one that loves me like he loves Tina. I'm really bored with men talking about marriage. 9 proposals, 3 broken engagements, 1 purchased and returned wedding dress...
Whoever you are, don't you dare ask me to marry you or even bring up the "M" word until you've talked to God, my Daddy and Ric and bought a ring. Otherwise I'm going to assume that you're just blowing sunshine up an orifice that ladies simply don't mention.
2. I wouldn't have gotten to spend all of Sunday decorating the tree and having roommate Thanksgiving.
3. I would be sleeping in a bedroom with colors I hate.
4. I wouldn't get to spend Christmas Eve night and Christmas Day with my family.
5. I wouldn't feel this relaxed right now.
6. I would be stressing over so many things: how on earth are we going to go on a honeymoon? did he pay rent? does he actually have a job to come back to? when is he going to leave me?
7. I would be in very real danger of bringing a child into a life that would most likely include a single mother.
8. I would miss out on what actually IS God's best... a man that will actually love me, not just be content with the knowledge that I'm around somewhere when he's bored, needs transportation, someone to blame things on, someone to pay for things, etc.
Joey was right. There's a difference between Mr. Right and Mr. Close Enough. I was so incredibly deceived into thinking that he was Mr. Right when he was actually neither.
Ric said that he wouldn't approve of any boyfriend I brought home untiil I found one that loves me like he loves Tina. I'm really bored with men talking about marriage. 9 proposals, 3 broken engagements, 1 purchased and returned wedding dress...
Whoever you are, don't you dare ask me to marry you or even bring up the "M" word until you've talked to God, my Daddy and Ric and bought a ring. Otherwise I'm going to assume that you're just blowing sunshine up an orifice that ladies simply don't mention.
Saturday, November 28, 2009
6 more days...
6 days until December 4th.
6 days until what would have been my wedding.
6 days until it will no longer be looming in the future, begging me to wonder "what if."
6 days until I for sure stop receiving emails from wedding vendors shoving their services down my throat.
6 days until Joey will no longer be connected to any future date in my life.
They ground our initials off of the vase I made for our wedding. It was a horrible, screeching sound that was an oddly satisfying mix sadness, peace, and jubilation.
I painted over it. There's a very obvious mark where our intials were painted, ground away and painted over, but that seems only appropriate. I can no more erase that mark from existence than I can erase every mark on my heart and mind that he left. I so wish I could. I wish that whenever he came to mind it didn't cause a twinge - whether or sadness, anger, or anything else.
I wish I could keep every benefit of our relationship (the friendships I made through him) while forgetting he exists.
I am sad, but I'm ok. I'm not sad over Joey as much as I'm sad for the way that he made me feel broken and defective - again.If you talk to me about weddings between now and then, you do so at your own peril.
6 days until what would have been my wedding.
6 days until it will no longer be looming in the future, begging me to wonder "what if."
6 days until I for sure stop receiving emails from wedding vendors shoving their services down my throat.
6 days until Joey will no longer be connected to any future date in my life.
They ground our initials off of the vase I made for our wedding. It was a horrible, screeching sound that was an oddly satisfying mix sadness, peace, and jubilation.
I painted over it. There's a very obvious mark where our intials were painted, ground away and painted over, but that seems only appropriate. I can no more erase that mark from existence than I can erase every mark on my heart and mind that he left. I so wish I could. I wish that whenever he came to mind it didn't cause a twinge - whether or sadness, anger, or anything else.
I wish I could keep every benefit of our relationship (the friendships I made through him) while forgetting he exists.
I am sad, but I'm ok. I'm not sad over Joey as much as I'm sad for the way that he made me feel broken and defective - again.If you talk to me about weddings between now and then, you do so at your own peril.
Monday, November 9, 2009
Girls' Night In... keeping it for posterity.
So, my roommates (Rubyred and MelindaJ) and I typically hang out on Monday nights. Increasingly, our nights together have invovled sci-fi in some way. Here is our Facebook summary of the evening's activities.
Andrea Fisher Christian Bale, Gerard Butler, and Matthew McConaughey, all in one movie. A favorite actor for each roommate. Oh, and dragons. Don't forget the dragons. Good times!
Patty Collins likes this.
Crystal Stone
You mean, favorite naked chest, favorite actor and favorite accent, right? I'll let you play mix and match with roommate and descriptive term.
Joy Kaczmarek
I = Gerard Butler +all three descriptions.
Crystal Stone
Matthew McConaughey, one of the three... he's no Will Smith, but Will and I do have an open relationship. Oh, and I guess I get Christian Bale too since you're engaged.
Crystal Stone
Who's your favorite MW?
Andrea Fisher
I'm sorry to say it, Crystal, but your man's voice doesn't match his bad boy vibe in this movie.
Crystal Stone
Oh Matthew. Lose the beard, grow back the hair. Continue to talk please.
Joy Kaczmarek
meh... why listen to southern when you can listen to SCOTTISH!!!!!
Andrea Fisher
Ok, I do agree with Joy on this one. But I do still prefer a man who can sing, dance, and wear a newsboy cap or bat cape with equal panache.
Crystal Stone
Hey, they're not talking at the same time. Neither is detracting from the enjoyment of the other.
Crystal Stone
Mama can keep the bad boy in line.
Joy Kaczmarek
so, Andrea... can Daniel sing, dance, and wear a newsboy cap or a bat cape with equal panache??
Crystal Stone
Top hat and cane, girls. Top hat and cane.
Andrea Fisher
He can sing and dance and always has panache. I don't know about the accessories.
Joy Kaczmarek
hhmmm....
Crystal Stone
After all, Miss, this is France.
Andrea Fisher
Oh no! A dragon just flew by!
Crystal Stone
Don't worry. My man will kill it.
Tina Rorabaugh
LOL! Oh my Crystal I am getting more and more worried about this Will Smith issue. ;) Hmmm all my single ladies, I love ya!
Joy Kaczmarek
I can't help it if Gerard is o-so-dreamy!!!
Crystal Stone
Hey, gotta be open relationship. If he liked it he shoulda put a ring on it. He just put one on Jada first.
Andrea Fisher
Tina, Tina, I'm gonna let you finish ... really, I am ... but I just gotta say ... the best video of ALL TIME!
Crystal Stone
Stupid Kanye.
Joy Kaczmarek
22 comments to Kanye. We could have done better then that, ladies!
Andrea Fisher
Go, Christian, Go! You've got 30 seconds!
Crystal Stone
Way to kill the party sweetie. Need a backrub?
Daniel Brame
I would, in fact, wear a cape... why? Because I'm ... Batman...
Crystal Stone
Awww they're fighting over me.
Andrea Fisher
Well, look! I got the newsboy cap covered. :)
Joy Kaczmarek
we didn't ask if YOU could wear a newsboy cap with panache...
Crystal Stone
Please, Daniel, post a picture of yourself with a newsboy cap. And a cape, please. The cape is quite important.
Crystal Stone
woh oh oh, ohohoh, woh oh oh, woh oh oh oh.
Wednesday, November 4, 2009
Runaway train...
...of thought.
Maggie Moo's is gone. It used to be just down the street from work, but it's gone. Not that I ever went there - I forgot about it. That little shopping center is in such an odd location. Even when I was planning the wedding that won't happen I never went to the bridal shop over there and I went to every bridal shop in Murfreesboro, or at least attempted to.
Location, location, location, I thought to myself as I drove by it yesterday. Location is such a big factor in the decision for a new business.
Then I thought about how often I've made decisions about lunch or dinner based on what side of the interstate that it was on, whether or not I'd have to turn left without a light on to a major highway when I leave the restaurant, and whether or not they're near that intersection that I detest.
The I went on to think about how I make decisions in general. Yes, there are many decisions that I make based on my belief in Christ, but it's less about what would please the One who loves me than it's about what would fulfill all the rules that I've memorized as though I'm checking off a list. Other decisions are based on what I want, what I feel I deserve, what I feel like doing, what I prefer, what I think is best, what I think is easiest, what I, what I, what I. Whose approval am I seeking? Who am I trying to impress?
Legalistic, imaginary checklists. Complete and utter selfishness. Seeking approval from men and women. Trying to impress men and women. This is how I make decisions in general. And typically, my decisions have failed in many ways, and I never get done all that I know needs to be done. Mainly because I don't feel like doing it so I decide to do what I DO feel like doing.
Who am I deciding is more worthy of being pleased than the Lover of my soul? Apparently myself and every other created being. That the first decision that I'm reworking.
Maggie Moo's is gone. It used to be just down the street from work, but it's gone. Not that I ever went there - I forgot about it. That little shopping center is in such an odd location. Even when I was planning the wedding that won't happen I never went to the bridal shop over there and I went to every bridal shop in Murfreesboro, or at least attempted to.
Location, location, location, I thought to myself as I drove by it yesterday. Location is such a big factor in the decision for a new business.
Then I thought about how often I've made decisions about lunch or dinner based on what side of the interstate that it was on, whether or not I'd have to turn left without a light on to a major highway when I leave the restaurant, and whether or not they're near that intersection that I detest.
The I went on to think about how I make decisions in general. Yes, there are many decisions that I make based on my belief in Christ, but it's less about what would please the One who loves me than it's about what would fulfill all the rules that I've memorized as though I'm checking off a list. Other decisions are based on what I want, what I feel I deserve, what I feel like doing, what I prefer, what I think is best, what I think is easiest, what I, what I, what I. Whose approval am I seeking? Who am I trying to impress?
Legalistic, imaginary checklists. Complete and utter selfishness. Seeking approval from men and women. Trying to impress men and women. This is how I make decisions in general. And typically, my decisions have failed in many ways, and I never get done all that I know needs to be done. Mainly because I don't feel like doing it so I decide to do what I DO feel like doing.
Who am I deciding is more worthy of being pleased than the Lover of my soul? Apparently myself and every other created being. That the first decision that I'm reworking.
Tuesday, November 3, 2009
Change. Grr,
If you know me, you know I'm not a huge fan of change. In some things, I know it has to happen. That doesn't mean that I have to like it.
1. Hair dressers. I still haven't found one that I love like I loved Renee. I haven't been to Renee since I was 19, but I have been to an endless parade of hair dressers over the years that I've been disappointed with. Harmony, although fabulous, is definitely a special occasion hairdresser. I can't afford her too often.
2. Restaurant menus. Stupid J.J. Bring back my Lobster Bisque.
3. Moving and roommates. I move A LOT.
4. BARISTAS. There was one precious, precious girl at the old Starbucks that I loved. If she was working, she would see me come in and start making my drink. If the tall not nice girl was there, I'd turn around and walk out. I don't have a new favorite barista, but I definitely have a new least favorite. Chris, you will never make my latte again.
1. Hair dressers. I still haven't found one that I love like I loved Renee. I haven't been to Renee since I was 19, but I have been to an endless parade of hair dressers over the years that I've been disappointed with. Harmony, although fabulous, is definitely a special occasion hairdresser. I can't afford her too often.
2. Restaurant menus. Stupid J.J. Bring back my Lobster Bisque.
3. Moving and roommates. I move A LOT.
4. BARISTAS. There was one precious, precious girl at the old Starbucks that I loved. If she was working, she would see me come in and start making my drink. If the tall not nice girl was there, I'd turn around and walk out. I don't have a new favorite barista, but I definitely have a new least favorite. Chris, you will never make my latte again.
Friday, October 23, 2009
Review of Ted Dekker's Green
I read Green because it was the recommended starting point in the Circle series and because I loved Three. My expectations were high when the author compared his work in this series to Chronicles of Narnia and Lord of the Rings. I was expecting poignant, touching, thrilling, encouraging, even funny in places.
I was sorely disappointed. I found the characters annoying, and in Janae and Billy's case, cliche. Do we really need yet another vampire story? The dialog was high handed in many places, and the only characters I could care about were Chelise, Qurong and Patricia. There was such a focus on evil, gore, violence and sin that at the end of the book I felt hopeless and like I needed to take a shower. I feel something is wrong when a Christian author focuses more on these things than God's goodness and love.
I did think it was clever that Billy's name kept changing as he lost more and more of himself, and I was able to see many Biblical parallels, but these didn't redeem Green. I won't be reading the rest of the series.
I was sorely disappointed. I found the characters annoying, and in Janae and Billy's case, cliche. Do we really need yet another vampire story? The dialog was high handed in many places, and the only characters I could care about were Chelise, Qurong and Patricia. There was such a focus on evil, gore, violence and sin that at the end of the book I felt hopeless and like I needed to take a shower. I feel something is wrong when a Christian author focuses more on these things than God's goodness and love.
I did think it was clever that Billy's name kept changing as he lost more and more of himself, and I was able to see many Biblical parallels, but these didn't redeem Green. I won't be reading the rest of the series.
Monday, October 19, 2009
Musings...
Last night I spent hours talking to T about things that we're currently going through in our walks with the Lord and our relationships with others, and so much that I've been dealing with has finally been put into words although barely any of it makes sense to me. We've talked many times over the years about the "perceiver" gift that both her husband, R, and I share, but it's coming out in ways right now that I don't necessarily know how to respond to all the time. God nudging me to pray for someone? Got it. God nudging me to encourage someone? Got it. That someone being a single man that I don't have a close personal friendship with? WHOA baby. Tread carefully. Or not at all. How to proceed with any sort of propriety, with no underlying motive, with no appearance of anything selfish? I have no idea. So I've remained quiet. I notice, I wonder, I pray, and I keep quiet because I don't know what to say.
Today I was walking through B&N looking at the Denise Hunter books. (Another writer of Christian chick-lit that I always expect to be light and fluffy, but instead is using a relationship to show aspects of God's love for us. She's not light and fluffy. She's entertaining, funny, touching, and has a gift for using an approachable genre to teach spiritual truths.) My favorite author of this genre is Denise Hildreth, who is to blame for my somewhat recent vacation to Savannah, Georgia. While walking around with my triple grande nonfat caramel latte, light whip please, I felt God nudging me to pray for Denise Hildreth, so I did. I used to be accustomed to these nudgings, but they'd been gone a while... probably because God knew that He couldn't trust me to actually pray when He told me to.
Tomorrow I'm going to pick out yarn. There is an incredibly sweet little lady at church that I need to make a scarf for. I don't know why she needs a scarf, but she does.
This is what I mean by having a hard time reconciling things with me right now: I want to get married sometime. I want children. The only people that I really want to be around are married couples, old women that I go to church with that have no idea who I am, and books. And I want new dining room chairs so that I can have the pastor and his wife over for dinner without worrying that the chair will disentigrate from underneath them.
I've also come into contact with so many old friends, which has been wonderful. What's crazy to me is that all the people that I keep connecting with are people that I've always considered as being superior to me somehow, but the needs that I'm sensing are similar and I feel there's a reason that we're reconnecting. Why would God use me to touch any of their lives? Why would He use me at all? I am inferior, unworthy, broken, splintered, confused and feel more than a little overwhelmed and lost.
I so struggle with practical things that I always feel that "real" grown ups have under control. Good example - I'm still up and I have to be at work at 6 a.m. I swear I fight sleep like a 2 year old at naptime that has a No-Doz addiction.
Today I was walking through B&N looking at the Denise Hunter books. (Another writer of Christian chick-lit that I always expect to be light and fluffy, but instead is using a relationship to show aspects of God's love for us. She's not light and fluffy. She's entertaining, funny, touching, and has a gift for using an approachable genre to teach spiritual truths.) My favorite author of this genre is Denise Hildreth, who is to blame for my somewhat recent vacation to Savannah, Georgia. While walking around with my triple grande nonfat caramel latte, light whip please, I felt God nudging me to pray for Denise Hildreth, so I did. I used to be accustomed to these nudgings, but they'd been gone a while... probably because God knew that He couldn't trust me to actually pray when He told me to.
Tomorrow I'm going to pick out yarn. There is an incredibly sweet little lady at church that I need to make a scarf for. I don't know why she needs a scarf, but she does.
This is what I mean by having a hard time reconciling things with me right now: I want to get married sometime. I want children. The only people that I really want to be around are married couples, old women that I go to church with that have no idea who I am, and books. And I want new dining room chairs so that I can have the pastor and his wife over for dinner without worrying that the chair will disentigrate from underneath them.
I've also come into contact with so many old friends, which has been wonderful. What's crazy to me is that all the people that I keep connecting with are people that I've always considered as being superior to me somehow, but the needs that I'm sensing are similar and I feel there's a reason that we're reconnecting. Why would God use me to touch any of their lives? Why would He use me at all? I am inferior, unworthy, broken, splintered, confused and feel more than a little overwhelmed and lost.
I so struggle with practical things that I always feel that "real" grown ups have under control. Good example - I'm still up and I have to be at work at 6 a.m. I swear I fight sleep like a 2 year old at naptime that has a No-Doz addiction.
Friday, October 16, 2009
If I had a million dollars I'd be asleep rather than doing laundry.
It's 2:05 a.m. on a work night and I have to get up in three hours. Why am I awake? Apparently I'm awake because LAUNDRY NEEDS TO BE DONE.
I went to bed fairly early for me - a little after ten, just enough to give me 6 1/2 hours of sleep. But there was this book. And since there was a book, and since books are for reading, I read it.
No problem. Midnight. Still enough for 5 hours of sleep. Then I started praying. You see, I'm getting a little nervous about this whole A getting married thing. I love A, I think D is fabulous, and I think A+D is a wonderful idea and am terribly happy for them. But it means that I lose a roommate that I adore. I feel left behind. But God and I are dealing with that. So a few shed tears and a prayer later and I'm ok.
Then, the age old question, "What would I do if I won $1,000,000?" pops into my head. (After taxes of course, since the math would just be too confusing to take taxes out in day dreams. And of course, it was NOT won by playing the lottery.) I don't know why this popped into my head; it simply did. (One modestly sized three bedroom home that is beautifully decorated with a fenced in back yard for Harvey and Genevieve (my two boxers) and a little Maltese named after a princess that I'll keep inside. A brand new Toyota because they last forever. A new computer that lets me hold it on my lap without the little arrow thingy becoming possessed and moving around of its own volition. Cooking classes. No debt.)
Then, CMI (Current Male Interest) pops into my head. Well, now I've had it. My new strategy is this: CMI pops into my head, I pray, "Lord, bless him and help me not think of him at all." You see, I'm simply not good enough for someone like CMI. Not that he's perfect, because he's not. But there is simply too much in me that needs to be fixed and he does NOT need a fixer upper. Not to mention that the man is just too cute for words and although I'm not bad to look at there is quite a bit of padding that needs to be removed.
Lord, bless him and help me not think of him at all.
So, thoughts of CMI were replaced by thoughts of LAUNDRY and suddenly any attempt at sleep seems like a pointless endeavor. So here I am, 2:22 in the morning, typing a blog, drinking Sleep Time Tea in vain hopes that it may do some good, and listening to the sound of the washer.
Oh, and you will all be proud to know that I have not baked ANYTHING for CMI at all. My other new strategy is the Do Nothing Approach.
DOH.
Lord, bless him and help me not think of him at all.
I went to bed fairly early for me - a little after ten, just enough to give me 6 1/2 hours of sleep. But there was this book. And since there was a book, and since books are for reading, I read it.
No problem. Midnight. Still enough for 5 hours of sleep. Then I started praying. You see, I'm getting a little nervous about this whole A getting married thing. I love A, I think D is fabulous, and I think A+D is a wonderful idea and am terribly happy for them. But it means that I lose a roommate that I adore. I feel left behind. But God and I are dealing with that. So a few shed tears and a prayer later and I'm ok.
Then, the age old question, "What would I do if I won $1,000,000?" pops into my head. (After taxes of course, since the math would just be too confusing to take taxes out in day dreams. And of course, it was NOT won by playing the lottery.) I don't know why this popped into my head; it simply did. (One modestly sized three bedroom home that is beautifully decorated with a fenced in back yard for Harvey and Genevieve (my two boxers) and a little Maltese named after a princess that I'll keep inside. A brand new Toyota because they last forever. A new computer that lets me hold it on my lap without the little arrow thingy becoming possessed and moving around of its own volition. Cooking classes. No debt.)
Then, CMI (Current Male Interest) pops into my head. Well, now I've had it. My new strategy is this: CMI pops into my head, I pray, "Lord, bless him and help me not think of him at all." You see, I'm simply not good enough for someone like CMI. Not that he's perfect, because he's not. But there is simply too much in me that needs to be fixed and he does NOT need a fixer upper. Not to mention that the man is just too cute for words and although I'm not bad to look at there is quite a bit of padding that needs to be removed.
Lord, bless him and help me not think of him at all.
So, thoughts of CMI were replaced by thoughts of LAUNDRY and suddenly any attempt at sleep seems like a pointless endeavor. So here I am, 2:22 in the morning, typing a blog, drinking Sleep Time Tea in vain hopes that it may do some good, and listening to the sound of the washer.
Oh, and you will all be proud to know that I have not baked ANYTHING for CMI at all. My other new strategy is the Do Nothing Approach.
DOH.
Lord, bless him and help me not think of him at all.
Tuesday, October 6, 2009
Words that I love
Affinity
Island
Cherubim
Grace
Willow
Starry
Sorrowful
Jubilant
Blue
Lithe
Anchor
Coriander
Christmas
Cinnamon
Island
Cherubim
Grace
Willow
Starry
Sorrowful
Jubilant
Blue
Lithe
Anchor
Coriander
Christmas
Cinnamon
Karaoke...
at work! Awesome! That DEFINITELY makes up for all the insanity of the past couple of weeks! Singing at a bar is one thing. I have to see these people every day. That last guy sounded like he was singing in a bar. Wonder where he went for lunch.
I haven't been on a date in nearly 2 weeks. Proud? I am.
I'M GOING TO DISNEY WORLD! 364 days. My Tina and co. are all going as well. I get to see the boys have a ball.
I'm attempting to give up Dr. Pepper. I will defeat the crack habit.
I haven't been on a date in nearly 2 weeks. Proud? I am.
I'M GOING TO DISNEY WORLD! 364 days. My Tina and co. are all going as well. I get to see the boys have a ball.
I'm attempting to give up Dr. Pepper. I will defeat the crack habit.
Saturday, September 26, 2009
Is it just me...
... or is dating just freaking exhausting?
... or have single men given up church?
... or should Bruce Willis NEVER do that hairstyle EVER again?
... or is everyone just way too busy to remember me?
... or are my parents avoiding being alone together?
... or are most romantic comedies centered around broken commitments?
... or is that the STRANGEST version of Snow White in existence?
... or have single men given up church?
... or should Bruce Willis NEVER do that hairstyle EVER again?
... or is everyone just way too busy to remember me?
... or are my parents avoiding being alone together?
... or are most romantic comedies centered around broken commitments?
... or is that the STRANGEST version of Snow White in existence?
Thursday, September 24, 2009
Trusting God in the middle of this mess
I so struggle with trusting God in so many areas. Especially with this whole dating/marriage thing. There's been some bittnerness in the wedding being cancelled after God told me to wait on Joey. I don't quite know how to interpret the fact that I did what God told me to do but that it didn't end the way that He showed me. The night that I sat on the beach in Destin and talked to God about the whole way that our relationship had gone, I heard that I was to wait, that he was the guy. God has made more sense to me at the ocean than anywhere else, and this time was no different. The name that I chose then that I would name my daughter one day was Marina Faith. It means, "lover of the sea," and the Faith part is self explanatory. I can't imagine that I would ever use this name now. It was a promise that I heard God speak to me regarding my relationship with Joey. If God always keeps His promises, what does that mean in the context of this situation? I know His voice. I know what He said. Does this promise no longer exist?
I'm not sad tonight, just wondering many things. It's been three years that I have been full of the knowledge that I was meant to marry Joey. And now I'm confronted with knowledge that seems familiar, foreign, scary, yet exciting: It's more than likely that I've not met who I'll marry.
If God keeps promises, but told me Joey was the one I was to marry, and now that's not going to happen, what do I do with the promise of children that He spoke into me?
I know that there are people that desire so much to marry that never did. I know that there are people that desire children more than their next breath that never have them. Why would God give us these desires but then withold the fulfillment of those same desires?
So much that I don't understand right now. It's ok that I don't understand, but it's so hard to trust. I'm fighting to do it daily.
I'm not sad tonight, just wondering many things. It's been three years that I have been full of the knowledge that I was meant to marry Joey. And now I'm confronted with knowledge that seems familiar, foreign, scary, yet exciting: It's more than likely that I've not met who I'll marry.
If God keeps promises, but told me Joey was the one I was to marry, and now that's not going to happen, what do I do with the promise of children that He spoke into me?
I know that there are people that desire so much to marry that never did. I know that there are people that desire children more than their next breath that never have them. Why would God give us these desires but then withold the fulfillment of those same desires?
So much that I don't understand right now. It's ok that I don't understand, but it's so hard to trust. I'm fighting to do it daily.
Wednesday, September 23, 2009
Tuesday, September 22, 2009
What I'm doing with my life
1. I just made manicotti for the first time.
2. I signed up to be a part of the Thomas Nelson Book Review Bloggers program. Very excited. They are sending me Ted Dekker's Green. Free books. :D
3. I joined a gym today.
4. I have a date tomorrow. We'll call him B.
5. I talked myself out of spending money today.
6. I went grocery shopping yesterday and plan to eat at home for the next week. (Unless someone else is paying, of course.)
7. I joined the choir at church.
8. I am looking for a cake decorating class.
9. I am looking into going back to school next semester for Organizations Communications.
10. I am in week 3 of my Beth Moore study. This week the big challenge is realizing that I am to treat myself as though I am holy since I am being sanctified. What do I watch? What do I listen to? How do I behave on dates? How do I speak? What do I read?
After I got over the shock and devasation of the break up, I realized that I am not stressed out nearly as much as I was. We were afraid I had an ulcer; I feel fine. I'm sleeping better, and I'm actually happier. Yes, there are still sometimes that I miss him, and there are times that I wish that we could be friends one day, but I still think that this would be unwise.
I like my life now. There is a lot of room for improvement of course, but I'm working on it. Next project: get in to the habit of doing laundry weekly and actually hang it up rather than just wear it out of the basket...
2. I signed up to be a part of the Thomas Nelson Book Review Bloggers program. Very excited. They are sending me Ted Dekker's Green. Free books. :D
3. I joined a gym today.
4. I have a date tomorrow. We'll call him B.
5. I talked myself out of spending money today.
6. I went grocery shopping yesterday and plan to eat at home for the next week. (Unless someone else is paying, of course.)
7. I joined the choir at church.
8. I am looking for a cake decorating class.
9. I am looking into going back to school next semester for Organizations Communications.
10. I am in week 3 of my Beth Moore study. This week the big challenge is realizing that I am to treat myself as though I am holy since I am being sanctified. What do I watch? What do I listen to? How do I behave on dates? How do I speak? What do I read?
After I got over the shock and devasation of the break up, I realized that I am not stressed out nearly as much as I was. We were afraid I had an ulcer; I feel fine. I'm sleeping better, and I'm actually happier. Yes, there are still sometimes that I miss him, and there are times that I wish that we could be friends one day, but I still think that this would be unwise.
I like my life now. There is a lot of room for improvement of course, but I'm working on it. Next project: get in to the habit of doing laundry weekly and actually hang it up rather than just wear it out of the basket...
Saturday, September 19, 2009
Hey! Read! Comment!
So, I'm writing a book. Here are the first three paragraphs. What do you think?
The only beautiful thing about my childhood home was Beulah, a centuries-old duchess of an oak whose trunk sprawled across our lawn. She was a kind dowager, allowing the three of us to climb into her arms and hide from the world in the folds of her leafy gown. Being the only girl, I suppose I was the only one of the Davenport children that Beulah entrusted with the secrets of her name and station. I was the quiet one, the only one who sat still long enough to hear everything she whispered in the breezes. I lay in the cradle of her branches for whole summers, spent autumns swinging my legs high above the ground. Brendan and Blaine wouldn’t have heard her had she tried to confide in them; their boyish voices had no volume but loud and no speed but rapid and constant. To my brothers, the identical twins of us three triplets, Beulah was simply the easiest place to hide from the ever-watchful eye of our mother. To me, she was the guardian of my dreams, the comforting collector of my tears, the soother of hurts, and the confidante that faithfully listened as I pondered, sifted, and wrestled through every problem that shattered the earth beneath my tentative awkward feet.
Someone set fire to Beulah once; I’ve suspected my whole life that it was Father. She didn’t burn to the ground, but there were scars to be sure -- a charred brittleness to the side of her trunk that faced the house, and I had watched paralyzed as one of her branches had splintered, her leaves glowing like molten gold as it crashed to the ground with a deafening crack. The fire department had appeared at our house as if by magic and the fire was doused within minutes of their arrival. Even tired and shrunken as the fire had left her, Beulah still towered proudly over me as I stood in front of her for the first time in sixteen years. Her leaves waved to me gracefully in the breeze, welcoming me back to a place I had promised myself when I left for college that I would never see again. Had Brendan not called with the news of Father’s death, I would have kept that promise. I longed to climb up and hide now; shut out the world, to again be the little girl that could create worlds and kingdoms to block out the grayness of her life. I couldn’t keep putting off meeting my family after so long. I turned from my old friend and leaned against her trunk, forcing my eyes to settle on the house where he’d been discovered.
The house hadn’t changed. The boards that had once been white were now mostly bare with large splotches of peeled paint. The post that Father had kicked in on my fifteenth birthday was still broken in half and rotting along with the rest of the house. The windows were filthy. I crossed the dusty lawn with its sparse patches of grass and climbed the stairs. As the door opened, sticking on its hinges just as it had when I left, I was assaulted by smells both familiar and strange. Stale tobacco smoke. Spilled scotch. The litter box that likely hadn’t been cleaned in a month. The sickeningly sweet smell of too much gardenia scented potpourri that Mommy had used desperately to cover up the other odors. Things were tidy, though, and several cleaning supplies sat on the kitchen counter as though they had just been pulled out for their yearly use in the spring.
The only beautiful thing about my childhood home was Beulah, a centuries-old duchess of an oak whose trunk sprawled across our lawn. She was a kind dowager, allowing the three of us to climb into her arms and hide from the world in the folds of her leafy gown. Being the only girl, I suppose I was the only one of the Davenport children that Beulah entrusted with the secrets of her name and station. I was the quiet one, the only one who sat still long enough to hear everything she whispered in the breezes. I lay in the cradle of her branches for whole summers, spent autumns swinging my legs high above the ground. Brendan and Blaine wouldn’t have heard her had she tried to confide in them; their boyish voices had no volume but loud and no speed but rapid and constant. To my brothers, the identical twins of us three triplets, Beulah was simply the easiest place to hide from the ever-watchful eye of our mother. To me, she was the guardian of my dreams, the comforting collector of my tears, the soother of hurts, and the confidante that faithfully listened as I pondered, sifted, and wrestled through every problem that shattered the earth beneath my tentative awkward feet.
Someone set fire to Beulah once; I’ve suspected my whole life that it was Father. She didn’t burn to the ground, but there were scars to be sure -- a charred brittleness to the side of her trunk that faced the house, and I had watched paralyzed as one of her branches had splintered, her leaves glowing like molten gold as it crashed to the ground with a deafening crack. The fire department had appeared at our house as if by magic and the fire was doused within minutes of their arrival. Even tired and shrunken as the fire had left her, Beulah still towered proudly over me as I stood in front of her for the first time in sixteen years. Her leaves waved to me gracefully in the breeze, welcoming me back to a place I had promised myself when I left for college that I would never see again. Had Brendan not called with the news of Father’s death, I would have kept that promise. I longed to climb up and hide now; shut out the world, to again be the little girl that could create worlds and kingdoms to block out the grayness of her life. I couldn’t keep putting off meeting my family after so long. I turned from my old friend and leaned against her trunk, forcing my eyes to settle on the house where he’d been discovered.
The house hadn’t changed. The boards that had once been white were now mostly bare with large splotches of peeled paint. The post that Father had kicked in on my fifteenth birthday was still broken in half and rotting along with the rest of the house. The windows were filthy. I crossed the dusty lawn with its sparse patches of grass and climbed the stairs. As the door opened, sticking on its hinges just as it had when I left, I was assaulted by smells both familiar and strange. Stale tobacco smoke. Spilled scotch. The litter box that likely hadn’t been cleaned in a month. The sickeningly sweet smell of too much gardenia scented potpourri that Mommy had used desperately to cover up the other odors. Things were tidy, though, and several cleaning supplies sat on the kitchen counter as though they had just been pulled out for their yearly use in the spring.
Saturday, September 12, 2009
Get a room.
Yesterday at Barnes & Noble (where I go to read, do my Beth Moore study and just drink coffee) I saw a married couple about my parents' age enjoying not only their coffee, (a cappucino for her and a frappucino for him,) but also each other's company. They sat across from each other, leaning forward and staring into each other's eyes like two young college students on a seventh date, but with all of the comfort and confidence in each other that probably came from 2.5 children and 5,000 mornings of his seeing her with no makeup and 5,000 nights of her thinking his bald spot is actually kinda sexy. They laughed, they talked, they sat quietly... but they weren't watching anyone but each other.
I wish my parents looked at each other like that.
I wish my parents looked at each other like that.
Friday, September 11, 2009
How am I doing?
Very well, thank you.
Karen Jones kicked me in the rear, pointing out that we don't have the right to be angry with God. After Christ's work on the cross, if He never did anything else for us, never showed up at all, we'd still owe Him everything.
Thank you, Karen.
So of course I'm talking to God again, and I'm going to a Beth Moore Bible study. See? I was going to be married. After all, Beth Moore does require the same strength of commitment. The study is already tearing me up.
More on that later.
I am dating again. I figure, he says he's never coming back, I know I want to get married one day, I'm definitely not getting any younger, so dating it is.
More on that later as well.
This weekend I am joining the choir.
I am currently looking for affordable places to move once A gets married. I will then begin looking for a dog. A very tiny dog. And after I have HER spayed, I will buy her an adorable little sweater. She will be named after a princess. She will be very obviously a girl's dog.
Can't get a male dog yet. That's reserved for much later, when I can get a boxer that I will name Harvey. He won't wear sweaters, but he WILL have Halloween costumes.
Have a wonderful day my friends, and hopefully you will hear from me much more frequently.
Love as always,
C
Karen Jones kicked me in the rear, pointing out that we don't have the right to be angry with God. After Christ's work on the cross, if He never did anything else for us, never showed up at all, we'd still owe Him everything.
Thank you, Karen.
So of course I'm talking to God again, and I'm going to a Beth Moore Bible study. See? I was going to be married. After all, Beth Moore does require the same strength of commitment. The study is already tearing me up.
More on that later.
I am dating again. I figure, he says he's never coming back, I know I want to get married one day, I'm definitely not getting any younger, so dating it is.
More on that later as well.
This weekend I am joining the choir.
I am currently looking for affordable places to move once A gets married. I will then begin looking for a dog. A very tiny dog. And after I have HER spayed, I will buy her an adorable little sweater. She will be named after a princess. She will be very obviously a girl's dog.
Can't get a male dog yet. That's reserved for much later, when I can get a boxer that I will name Harvey. He won't wear sweaters, but he WILL have Halloween costumes.
Have a wonderful day my friends, and hopefully you will hear from me much more frequently.
Love as always,
C
Tuesday, September 1, 2009
Mr. Darcy - what's all the hype?
I've begun to think that all the women that are head over heels for Mr. Darcy haven't ready any other Austen books other than Pride and Prejudice. He's quite challenging to be sure, and hey, everyone that knows me knows I dearly love a good challenge and can be quite persistent. (Just tell me it won't happen. I dare ya.) Here's the thing about Mr. Darcy: you never know where you stand. I get quite enough of that in real life, thank you. If I'm going to choose an imaginary nineteenth century hottie, you better believe I wouldn't choose one that keeps me clueless.
Go read Persuasion. (Captain Wentworth, I'll marry you. You don't even have to get rich first! I swear, he has got to be my favorite Austen man. "He had nothing but himself to recommend him." Oh my.)
Go read Sense and Sensibility. (I read an essay that called the match between Marianne and Colonel Brandon insipid. Are you freaking kidding me?!? He teaches a 17 year old girl how to get over herself. He's a miracle worker This is one instance in which you should definitely watch the movie. The Emma Thompson one. Just the shot where Colonel Brandon sees Marianne for the first time was enough for me to lose my heart to a way too old for me Alan Rickman. I got my heart back when he showed up as Severus Snape. Hot he's not in the Harry Potter movies.)
Go read Mansfield Park. (I dare you to find a more encouraging, kind, principled man than Edmund. Yes, he may falter a little bit when a pretty girl is involved, but when she shows herself to be a morally bankrupt priss (now I ain't saying she's a gold digger...) he completely and voluntarily gives her up, sees the error of his ways and falls in love with Fanny Price, who almost succeeded in changing the morally bankrupt gold digger's even more morally bankrupt brother.)
Go read Northanger Abbey. (Mr. Tilney is sweet, kind, intelligent, honorable, funny, flirtatious, encouraging, a great dancer, and tells you when you're being completely stupid - but only when you deserve it a whole, whole lot. Then he marries you because you're just so darned fabulous in spite of your stupidity.)
And please, please go read Emma. (If you ever happen to meet a man like Mr. Knightley, bring him to me immediately. Oh my goodness. Gorgeous, rich, kind, funny, intelligent, a good friend, keeps you accountable for your actions... take away rich and I still want to know if he exists. If he does, can I have him for Christmas?)
Go read Persuasion. (Captain Wentworth, I'll marry you. You don't even have to get rich first! I swear, he has got to be my favorite Austen man. "He had nothing but himself to recommend him." Oh my.)
Go read Sense and Sensibility. (I read an essay that called the match between Marianne and Colonel Brandon insipid. Are you freaking kidding me?!? He teaches a 17 year old girl how to get over herself. He's a miracle worker This is one instance in which you should definitely watch the movie. The Emma Thompson one. Just the shot where Colonel Brandon sees Marianne for the first time was enough for me to lose my heart to a way too old for me Alan Rickman. I got my heart back when he showed up as Severus Snape. Hot he's not in the Harry Potter movies.)
Go read Mansfield Park. (I dare you to find a more encouraging, kind, principled man than Edmund. Yes, he may falter a little bit when a pretty girl is involved, but when she shows herself to be a morally bankrupt priss (now I ain't saying she's a gold digger...) he completely and voluntarily gives her up, sees the error of his ways and falls in love with Fanny Price, who almost succeeded in changing the morally bankrupt gold digger's even more morally bankrupt brother.)
Go read Northanger Abbey. (Mr. Tilney is sweet, kind, intelligent, honorable, funny, flirtatious, encouraging, a great dancer, and tells you when you're being completely stupid - but only when you deserve it a whole, whole lot. Then he marries you because you're just so darned fabulous in spite of your stupidity.)
And please, please go read Emma. (If you ever happen to meet a man like Mr. Knightley, bring him to me immediately. Oh my goodness. Gorgeous, rich, kind, funny, intelligent, a good friend, keeps you accountable for your actions... take away rich and I still want to know if he exists. If he does, can I have him for Christmas?)
Sunday, August 16, 2009
The short version
Joey cancelled the wedding two weeks ago. He didn't just cancel the wedding - he cancelled us.
So I cut my hair. A lot.
All the vendors, venues, and dresses were handled in 2 business days.
I was so angry. Angry first with him, then not angry with him but angry with God.
First I said, "I'm done. I don't have the energy to ever do this again." Then I begged God to put it back together. Now I'm not talking to God about whether or not there wil be a Joey and me in the future. I'm talking to him about other things.
I broke down once or twice. Or fifty times.
I slept in his tshirt and came home from work to put on his sweatshirt. Now I want them both out of my house.
It's no longer appropriate to answer yes to this question, but I wasn't thinking of that when I asked myself today if I still love him. There wasn't an answer.
How am I? Today I'm ok. Yesterday and the day before I was ok. Tomorrow I hope I'm a little more ok that I am now.
So I cut my hair. A lot.
All the vendors, venues, and dresses were handled in 2 business days.
I was so angry. Angry first with him, then not angry with him but angry with God.
First I said, "I'm done. I don't have the energy to ever do this again." Then I begged God to put it back together. Now I'm not talking to God about whether or not there wil be a Joey and me in the future. I'm talking to him about other things.
I broke down once or twice. Or fifty times.
I slept in his tshirt and came home from work to put on his sweatshirt. Now I want them both out of my house.
It's no longer appropriate to answer yes to this question, but I wasn't thinking of that when I asked myself today if I still love him. There wasn't an answer.
How am I? Today I'm ok. Yesterday and the day before I was ok. Tomorrow I hope I'm a little more ok that I am now.
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