Am I weird?

Is it strange that I find this attractive (see below for quote)?

“I spent the better part of an hour last night on myspace.com listening to the Audioslave record, then trying to figure out how to get my hands on the music. Not cause I’m such a frickin hacker but more to see if I could do it.

I downloaded a trial of the software from Macromedia to see if I could take apart the flash movie and see where the music was comin from. I got some info about the various sites it was pulling info from and even found some mp3 files, but they weren’t actual music. An hour later all I’d gotten was needlessly tired. I’d made some limited headway but nothing that resembled results.”

Seriously, though, computer-wise I have no idea how to go about what he was attempting to do. I wouldn’t even think of it. I like it when people know more about computers than me (though conceivably that’s not hard, but I don’t run into them very often).

Random Weekend Bits

So, my weekend was pretty busy. Friday night I went straight from work to meet Amanda for dinner. I’m very happy that the express bus takes me right from downtown to within four blocks of the Rock (church). SummerCrush didn’t get my email, so he didn’t meet us at Chipotle, and we didn’t meet up with him until after the service. Amanda and I went across the street to Muddy Paws afterwards for some yummy cheesecake (that did not make me feel good later that night, but perhaps cheesecake at 10 pm isn’t a good idea anyways). SummerCrush didn’t really talk to us all that much, which was only slightly disappointing.

I had more issues with the sermon than I thought I would – it’s a series on finding Mr or Miss Right, and the subject of dating has always been a favorite of mine (at least in a youth group, teach the kids to not have sex and be responsible and guard their hearts kind of way, and also in the Elisabeth Elliot don’t date but court and don’t do that unless you’re 95% sure you’re going to get married to each other kind of way). My main beef didn’t have anything to do with that topic, however. The Rock is fairly conservative, which normally isn’t a problem for me, but they don’t approve of women in professional paid ministry, or perhaps only in ordained situations (I’m not sure which and don’t want to misrepresent them). Sometimes the pastor just doesn’t know when he’s sticking his foot in his mouth. Amanda and I had the same problem last year when he spoke about the war with Iraq (I can’t find a post about it, so I must not have written about it). What he said wasn’t technically wrong, but the way it came out was… offensive, especially if you weren’t willing to give him the benefit of the doubt. Friday night he kept saying “men” and stressing the word when he said it, and it was just… unfortunate that he did that. I wonder how many other women in the audience (or men, too, since there are those whose sensibilities are attuned) were offended by his remarks.

The general idea of his message was good, however nothing original. I’ve come to not expect originality out of church, though. I’ve been to a few too many services to expect that (roughly speaking, 1600 services, give or take – the average 27-year old, had they gone to church every Sunday, and not counting ages 0-7, would have gone to 1,040 services, assuming they never got sick or took a vacation, and went all through college, which is a huge assumption). It’s those four years of college when I went to chapel three times a week and to whatever church I was volunteering at on Sundays. Oh, and my church in Michigan and the Church I’m at for another 8 days, going to two services each Sunday. Needless to say I’m looking forward to a Sunday or two (or twelve) off. OK, I really wouldn’t take twelve off – church is far too large a part of my life to do that. But I will take a short vacation before choosing to attend the service of my choice (get the point?).

Enough about church.

Saturday I did sleep in, which was fabulous. Oh, I should say that taking the bus all the way from Uptown to my house at 11:30 at night was completely fine, and I couldn’t be happier. I was responsible and kept my headphones turned down low and made sure I looked at each person’s face as they got on the bus, just to be safe. No worries though.

So Saturday I got up around 11, drug myself to the market to get milk so I could make Swedish Pancakes (recipe coming soon, I promise). It’s becoming my Saturday ritual. I bought yummy bacon, too. Can’t get enough of it. Real bacon. Called the Salon, already told that story.

After my haircut and the memorable time spent with HairGuy, I ran several errands, all by bus, and amazingly did it in a short period of time, or at least about the length of time it would have taken me by car. At some point, Liz called to decide where to meet her for dinner. Her dad was in town for the weekend and we went out for Mexican, and then she took us to the Aquarium where she works on weekends. Sat and had coffee afterwards as the mall closed around us. Thankfully, she drove me home, so I was at my house by 10:30. This was a crucial part of my Saturday, since the choir director was picking me up for worship at 7:15 on Sunday morning.

Have I mentioned I gave the borrowed car back? I am, very officially, sans vehicle, and honestly, I’m loving it. I haven’t had to buy cat food yet, or a 24-pack of toilet paper, but life is good. The biggest concerns are getting to Amanda’s apartment and Alison’s house, and the latter said she’d come pick me up, while the former and I can work around the problem.

Sunday started very early, which I was not happy about, but I was ready a full fifteen minutes before my ride arrived. I multi-tasked while there, playing in the band at first service, visiting both junior and senior high Sunday School classes, and then skipping the second service to prepare a final mailing about our picnic. Brought my guitar home in the back of the choir director’s pickup. I should have the office emptied of my things by tomorrow. Scary. Pastor S was preaching since Pastor B was out of town. The Personnel Committee also made an announcement about both of our departures and the party next week for that purpose. A letter went out just before the weekend.

It’s very official, now. I have eight days left. Seriously, it just seems so weird. And all my stuff is taken care of, which is even weirder. No last-minute rush to get everything in order.

Sunday afternoon’s adventure I’ve also already detailed, so I won’t go into that, except to say that there is a particular glute-ular muscle that I injured that still hurts.

On a final, shallow note, I’d like to comment on television. It is end-of-season time, which means spectacular episodes that keep me on the edge of my seat, and then four months of agony over what will happen next? I’ve seen some very good writing and plot lines. I have the last episode of Enterprise to watch still (so don’t tell me!), but other than that I’ve been able to keep up so far. Some of my favorite shows won’t be on tonight (CMA Awards), and there’ll be a double-up on Thursday at 7, so I’ll have some taping to do, but all in all I’m quite pleased with this May. This is good, since summer TV sucks. Land of Reality TV, here we come. I hate reality TV. I refuse to watch it. Blech. I’d rather read a book. Or do laundry. Or clean out the fridge. Seriously.

Speaking of which, I really don’t want to clean out the months of icky stuff in my fridge – wanna come over and do it? I’m about to the point of paying someone. You could make a few bucks!

Testosterone

By Saturday, I couldn’t wait anymore. It had been four months since I got a haircut, and Friday night after church I walked past the new salon at the end of my street and memorized their phone number. I called Saturday and scheduled an appointment for that afternoon. Not until after it was all set up did she tell me my appointment was with a boy, who we’ll now refer to as HairGuy. Now, I have not had good luck with male hairdressers, and I’ve had at least a few to make this judgment on. Usually, you go in and tell them what you want, and then they decide what they want, and that’s what they do. This has result in my hair being much shorter than I wanted (2002), much bigger than I wanted (1992), or just… bad. But, I’d already made the appointment, so I decided to go through with it. I complained to Karla about it before leaving, and she said not to worry, he was probably gay (which really, was the least of my concerns).

I got ready (which merely meant checking to make sure that my nappy hair I’d slept on was going to be vaguely presentable for someone to touch, which it was not, and putting on mascara) and walked the half-block to the salon (aptly called, The Salon – try Googling that one). I walk in, and there are not one, not two, not three, but four people standing around, waiting for my arrival. They’ve only been open a few months, and I guess they’re not too busy yet. I check in, and am introduced to HairGuy. He is not gay, of this I’m fairly certain.

Sits me down, asks what I want, and then walks me over to the sink. He proceeds to ask me if I have roommates, a boyfriend, am married, have pets, etc. First of all, impressed that he thought I was old enough to be married, since at least twice in the last year I’ve been mistaken for a high schooler. He was a very good conversationalist. He decided that after giving me a cut, he wanted to give me a blow out, not with a flat iron, but actually blow-dry my hair straight. He saw this as a personal challenge. He really had fun with it, too. Since my hair is so thick, we joked about him needing to stretch beforehand, not needing to go to the gym later, etc. Funny guy. And he really did a great job – he was happier with it than I, but he’d never seen my hair straight (seeing as how we’d only met an hour earlier) and I have. Each piece he got done, he stood back and admired.

I realize that by now it sounds like he was, perchance, into guys, but really, he wasn’t. We talked about my working at church, getting to pick a new one, and he recommended his, which he goes to now after leaving the one that I think I will end up at (small world). We talked about conservative Christian churches in Minnesota and being conservative and being right (not as in right/wrong but as in right/left), or really being middle of the road which is considered right in Minnesota, land of lefts. Trust me, conservative Christians are not homosexual. Let me rephrase that – the GLBTQ community as a whole is usually much more comfortable with liberal Christianity than it is with conservative Christianity, and that’s a whole other discussion to have.

By this time, I’m trying to get a glance at his left hand to check for a wedding ring. Nope. He talked about his friends, and kept saying “I” this and “I” that, never “we.”

Then, he moves to straighten the front part (my “bangs” if you will). To do this, he stands directly in front of me, basically straddling my legs, and goes to work. You don’t have to think too hard to realize what is in my face at this point (cue me closing my eyes). He wasn’t doing it on purpose, or being blatantly suggestive or whatever, it’s just what he needed to do, I guess, but it was a little distracting.

The worst (or best, depending on your perspective) part was that at no time did he stop touching me. The scalp massage (and better than they do at Aveda) during the wash was just the beginning.

I’m sure he was just trying to earn his tip, and ensure that he has a repeat customer. He was entirely charming and worth going back to again. And for a $28 haircut, he spent an hour and a half on my hair, most of that straightening it.

The jokes about me wanting him to come over every morning to do my hair, that when my hair is finally long he’s going to regret having done this once, and that he had a good “first date” were a little too much for me to handle, seeing as how I so rarely interact with boys my age.

Without being crude, I will just say that I am happy to know guys like HairGuy exist, and that SummerCrush has some competition now, even if it’s all only in my head.

Well,

I finally stopped stalling and got my email written. Gee, you’d think it was something I didn’t want to do, which is entirely untrue. But I needed to get the words right, you know? I’ve never emailed him before, and I wanted to be brief, and, well, I’ve got nothing much else to worry about than correct wording in an email.

I may need to go get Starbucks, even though it’s not exactly in the budget. I haven’t gotten up off my butt in several hours, and haven’t left the floor all day. Perhaps that’s why my glutes look like they do. They miss living on the third floor (but my lungs don’t).

One of the other support staff came by and passed out order forms for 2006 calendars.

I finished the flyer I needed to for Church. There’s a survey I could work on, but might wait until tomorrow or Thursday. I might need to make up a project for myself here. I’ve been listening to Sara Evans, “Restless,” which I got in the mail this weekend. It’s good. It’s one of the few CD’s I’ve bought since getting plugged into iTunes. There are very few CDs that I’m sure I’ll like all the tracks on, but Sara Evans is one of those artists.

Last Words

Lest I leave you for the weekend thinking I am totally boy-crazy, I will attempt to talk about something unrelated.

…………….thinking…………….

I’m going to a youth ministry training event tomorrow. Its kinda strange, getting trained for something I won’t be doing so much of soon. But I’m not really leaving ministry forever – I’m just better as a volunteer, and will pursue that after an appropriate time of rest and recovery. Well, tomorrow’s event is all about “Reclaiming America’s Teenagers.” I had hoped for many of my volunteers to be going, but it is only one of them. Alas. It should be a generally good time, though, with the exception of needing to be there at 8:30 am.

I’m running errands tonight after work – Fields (they’re having a sale and I want a new outfit!) and Target (must stock up on ibuprofen). Then it’s 3 hours of fabulous TV! Enterprise (third to last episode), JAG (series finale), and Numbers (it’s just a good show, not spectacular, but worth watching). Happy.

Wha???

It’s frickin’ 74 degrees outside! The sky is white – not a trace of blue or sun like this morning. They’re saying it’s supposed to rain; apparently it was very muggy at lunch. I was outside just now and it’s not bad. It’s windy, which makes me smile because it blows my hair about and reminds me that my hair is long enough to be blown about. (Geez, you’d think I was a cancer survivor who’d gone through chemo and lost all my hair, the way I go on about it.)

Did I mention the bus drove past me this morning? I’d been waiting at the stop for about 20 minutes, just a minute or two after the last bus had gone by. Waiting, waiting, waiting. I was listening to some good music and the weather was nice, so it wasn’t a horrible way to spend 20 minutes. I saw the bus coming, I waited under the sign like I always do, and I watched the bus drive past, not even slowing. There was some gesturing on my part, and halfway down the block the bus pulled over and waited for me. I didn’t run – not my fault the bus didn’t stop where I was. I did not thank my driver when I got on or off the bus. She was not a driver I’d seen before, and she drove the bus like it was a car – inching up on people, jerking the breaks around, etc. She didn’t drive terribly fast like some of them do, but I don’t know which is worse.

This morning (and into the afternoon) I wrote up my 100 Things That Make Me Smile. That put me in a very good mood. It also put me in a remembering mood, which I’d kind of already been in anyways. My favorite past loves have been… I’m not sure that haunting is the right word… checking on dictionary.com’s thesaurus… sojourning with me lately. Perhaps it’s that spring thing.

Mom will be in town for the next few days – she’s driving up tomorrow. (Hence the hair coloring this morning.)

I can’t figure out how to change the clock on my phone to reflect Daylight Savings – I’ve done this several times before, but can’t get it today.

Friday I wrote my resignation letter to the church. Short, simple, to the point. Had to print it twice – the first time it was dated April 1st, and I thought to be safe that I should change that. Turned it in before leaving on the overnight. No one said anything on Sunday, but I’m expecting Personnel will want to talk to me tonight at Committee Meetings. I couldn’t believe how nervous I was, writing the letter and then turning it in. Nonetheless, the countdown has begun.

I may not be starting school in June – I think all that’s missing to make my application complete is my $30 check, but I don’t have that until next paycheck, the 15th. That’ll be a whole month past the suggested deadline. Who knows, though. An extra three months to find the money won’t be that bad, and a summer off might be nice.

Amanda and I are going to the Rock on Friday night, since my plans with Mom got bumped to Saturday. We’ll be meeting Summer Crush there, and he’s asked us to go out afterward. I will be choosing to believe (and wrongly so, I might add) that he is asking me to go out – I take what I can get, right?

I’m looking for some more songs to put on my “Cowboys’ CD – any suggestions? Here’s all I have so far:

  • Cowboy Guarantee by Jessica Andrews, and
  • The Cowboy in Me by Tim McGraw

That doesn’t make for much of a mix disc, now does it?

Letters

To: State of Minnesota
Thanks for the day off. It was just what I needed.

To: City of St Paul
Re: Snow Emergency
First of all, 6 inches is not an emergency. Secondly, there have been two snow “emergencies” this season, and both have meant that on days I wouldn’t normally have to get up early (one Saturday and one holiday), I’ve had to trudge out in the snow before 8 am to move my car. If the next snow emergency could be on a day I’d have to get up on anyways, that’d be great.

To: The check-out guy at Office Max
Thank you for flirting with me as I purchased legal pads and pens. It made me feel sexy the rest of the day.

To: Dr Barry Sears, creator of the Zone Diet
Could you please create some recipes with flavor?

Epiphany (not the good kind, either)

So last night I went to Hamline for an information session on their MAT (Master of Arts in Teaching for Initial Licensure) program. After watching the video (trying to sell us on Hamline, which, quite frankly, since they’re the only school I know of that offers a master’s for initial licensure, I didn’t need to be sold), they split us up into groups for what we were interested in. The MAT group (there were others, like for people who already had their license, people looking for a doctorate, people interested in ESL, etc) was by far the largest, though I’m pretty sure most of the people there were looking to start in the fall, which gives me a little bit of a head start. The professor leading the group had us pair up with someone we didn’t know (pretty easy for me, since I didn’t know anyone there) and just learn a little bit about them, why they were considering teaching, why Hamline, whatever.

So this guy next to me turned around and we introduced ourselves. Gotta admit, he was a decent-looking guy, 20-something, and generally not creepy. Found out he had gone to another local school for his undergrad (in Religious Studies, graduated just a few years ago, after me but not too much) and shared why I was there. No big deal. Then we had to introduce each other to the group (would have been nice if we’d been told we were going to do that before the interviewing began, but whatever). Then there was a long dissemination of information about the program. To be honest, I probably didn’t need to have gone to the information session. I would have been fine just applying and then getting my questions answered by my adviser, since none of them really would be answerable until after I was accepted.

Finally the professor stopped talking and started taking questions. A guy from the front row got up to leave, and so then the professor wanted to pass out some handouts before he left (which I saw as a great time to leave myself). Through the handout process, found out that the guy I’d interviewed was interested in teaching the same subject matter as myself.

I’d spent a lot of the Q&A time convincing myself that I could say, it was nice to meet you, to this guy (I have issues, I’ll freely admit). However, when the time came, I felt in a huge rush, and just threw my coat on, grabbed my stuff, and ran out without making eye contact with anyone. While walking out (berating myself for not saying goodbye to cute guy), I figured out that I could have slipped him my number if I had thought about it. Stupid girl, I am sometimes.

So, getting to my epiphany… I am single because, while I meet very few guys my age at all anyways, the ones I do meet I run away from. What the h*** is my problem? I have no problem with pre-existing guy friends, and sometimes even friends-of-friends are OK. Definitely guys who are in serious relationships or married are no problem.

I’m never going to get married, am I? Or at least, not without serious therapy.

Men and Women

To approximately half of you reading this: I apologize. From my gender to yours, we beg your forgiveness. It’s not our fault we are this way. The good Lord, in his omniscent sense of humor, made us as fundamentally flawed creatures. We are simultaneously weak & agressive, hungry & needy, cunning & stupid. Women, on the other hand, are frighteningly gorgeous.

-from Digging for Goldner (warning – language warranting PG13 rating) [link removed – site no longer exists]

Ok, that is just an absolutely wonderful thing to say! I came to Digging for Goldner via This Fish, who confessed to having a blog crush, which was enough to convince me to check out the link. I think I know where she’s coming from. At any rate, if only more men would feel this way. I take that back – there are probably plenty of men who feel this way. Where are you? Could I meet you? This whole Match.com thing has offered me nothing in the way of anything with potential, and I don’t blame it. It still all hinges on attraction, and no computer program can figure that out.

I do have to say that, while women may be “frighteningly gorgeous,” we are also fundamentally flawed creatures. And need I remind everyone of the time I was in the presence of a man who could only be described as gorgeous, and was unable to speak in complete sentences? Yeah, I thought so. OK, just checked the archives. Apparently I haven’t told that story yet. It’s funny and you get to laugh at me.

Last year before she went to Africa, Liz and I performed at Open Mic a few times at the Coffee Grounds. There’s a group of “regulars” who perform monthly, and then there’s always a few extras. I shouldn’t say for sure – I haven’t been to Open Mic in quite a while, and things could be different. Anyways. One of the old “regulars” was this guy who played the guitar and would just do solo guitar pieces, no vocals, and he was an amazing guitarist. He was also beautiful. And married, and he would talk about his wife frequently. She was in the army. Didn’t stop him from being beautiful, though, nor me from realizing this.

After Liz and I played, he came over to our table to encourage us. I’m sure he was trying to be nice, but I was terribly embarrassed. I was bright red (when nervous I blush from just a little below my shoulders all the way to the top of my head, and I can’t control it, which is even more embarrassing) and he was telling us what a good job we did, and he specifically told me that I had a nice voice. The problem was that, aside from blushing, I was temporarily unable to speak. He was just too cute. That had never happened to me before! They use that a lot on TV sitcoms, where guys can’t talk to the pretty girl and just stammer out unintelligible nothings, but I never thought it was real until it happened to me.

Liz and Amanda laughed about that one for a long time. He’s since moved far away (Georgia perhaps?) and no doesn’t have that effect on me anymore. And I have yet to meet another guy since who has had the same effect. Of course, any times I’ve been in the presence of drop-dead gorgeous guys, they haven’t spoken to me. So, it could happen again. There’s something to look forward to.

WTF??? *

I just went out for a coffee break. Looking through tinted windows, it’s already nighttime. It’s frickin’ 3 in the afternoon! It’s been rainy and drizzly and snowy all day, apparently. For once, I’m glad that there isn’t a window within easy view (unless I stand up) from my cube – all day I’ve been thinking it was sunny out, which made me much happier. But dark at 3? I mean, we have at least an hour and a half left of sunlight! (Soon the days might start getting longer, too. As it is, we’re at about 8 hours of daylight.)

Brief advertisement: anyone in the area should frequent the St Paul Marshall Field’s Starbucks. The woman who works there, Tammy, calls me by name every day. It makes me smile. That’s all I really look for in a coffee shop. That, and a decent mocha.

I’m thinking about emailing someone from Match.com who emailed me… 2 weeks ago. Did I wait too long? He has a girl’s name. Other than that, he sounds nice. Friends, that’s all. What do you think? Where’s my personal Dear Abby?

* What The Freak? (come on, I don’t use that word!)

Thanksgiving Weekend

Unlike most people in this world, I absolutely relished my four day long weekend having no one to interact with but my cats. At one point on Thursday night, Liz called to make sure I wasn’t too lonely. Not possible. Melissa left for the East Coast last Sunday and won’t be back until this Tuesday (though I had dreams about her returning early and finding the huge mess in the kitchen I’d left), and Karla left on Wednesday and came back last night. Four glorious, blissful days of doing only what I wanted to do and not having to answer to anyone. Of course, Romeo and Matea insisted on being fed each morning at 6:30, but I managed to go back to bed after that.

I made a wonderful meal for myself on Thanksgiving day. Be prepared to be jealous. Cornish Rock Hens in a Rosemary Marinade. Wild Rice Stuffing. Mashed Potatoes with Roasted Garlic. And a lovely bottle of White Zinfandel that I drank all by myself. That’s right. It did take me nearly 8 hours though.

In all my planning for the meal, I completely forgot about desert. I ended up watching TV and eating caramel Hershey’s kisses. All in all, not to shabby.

I also watched 13 going on 30 this weekend, and Saved, and a lot of TV.

I went to the MOA and Ikea on both Wednesday afternoon and Saturday afternoon. I also battled the crowds on Friday morning to get to the Limited and receive my free sweater and $10 corduroy pants. I like free things. Friday I also went to Target three times. Three different Targets. Met Alison after the Limited on Friday morning for some shopping and an excuse for her to get out of the house. Her husband, Josh, is sick with the flu, and has been for a week now, including a trip to the hospital. A little bit whiny and demanding, but who can blame him?

Sunday I went to Church and felt pretty good all morning, including “working the crowds” to get people to sign up to ring bells for the Salvation Army in December. Another trip to Target, time spent cleaning up the kitchen, moving most of the furniture in my room into a different configuration, vacuuming up “kitty bison” as Amanda calls them, and watching more TV.

Later, I will tell you about my weekend Match.com experiences. Don’t chastise me.

Double-booked

Today, I am double-booked. This never happens to me. Granted sometimes I have very busy weeks where I’m at Church 3-4 nights in a row, but double-booked? Never! Unfortunately I had to cancel the first scheduled meeting for a staff meeting at Church. While the staff meeting is important (and quite frankly mandatory), I had to cancel it for a volunteer interview/meeting with what sounded like a very attractive gentleman. I have no idea, having never seen him, but he sounds nice on the phone. And he’s been very accommodating. And I’ve given him a VERY bad first impression.

I was supposed to meet him last Tuesday night (this was the first reschedule, and I’m not sure why we had to reschedule the week before that, but I’m pretty sure it was him), but my MapQuest directions got me VERY lost. It was so frustrating. I was sure I would run out of gas, I was very lost in downtown Minneapolis, and I called Liz several times for phone numbers and directions help, but to no avail. I could not get a number to contact him. So finally, at 6:51 (our meeting was scheduled for 6:00), he called me on my cell, at which I attempted to apologize profusely, and we rescheduled for tonight.

I’m not giving him a very good impression.

While I usually get lost downtown Minneapolis, I don’t normally have to reschedule meetings three times in order to get it right. I sound flaky. Not good. Let’s hope he’s not cute or single or… whatever.

Boys and other Ewwy things

OK, so I don’t really think that boys are ewwy. But it was so fun to write.

First of all, some Skyway restaurant is offering, as soup of the month, Zucchini Dill.

Vomit.

So this weekend I met a guy. Two, actually. Now, before you go and get excited, I wasn’t interested in either one, and I don’t think they were interested in me either. But these days, being in the presence of a guy between the ages of 20 and 40 who’s single and not gay counts as “meeting a guy.” If I had been interested, it would have been a great situation. The one guy was group leader for a church in the metro area, just got out of college, and we ended up being small group leaders together. That meant that we spent most of the time together, including the low-ropes course. Large quantities of physical contact. All rated G, though, not even PG.

Today coming back from getting coffee (it’s Peppermint Mocha time at Starbucks! Merry Christmas!), a lady in the elevator asked me about my hairstyle. She specifically asked if it had a name. A name? Seriously? She apparently really liked it. Never gonna happen for her unless we chop off my hair and glue it to her head, though. Gotta say I’m one-of-a-kind in that department.

Some Reading, Some Music, Some Stories

It was a busy weekend. But first, let me start with an article I read in the paper today.

Poor Martha Stewart [link removed]

The author makes some good points. The stats about child welfare are incredible and saddening. He references a report by the Children’s Defense Fund of Minnesota, which is available here [link removed].

Need something to listen to while I ramble on? How about… an oldie [file removed]?

Now that you’re jiving, maybe you’ll be more willing to listen to me….

So Friday and Saturday were fairly uneventful for me. I did clean house and rearrange furniture on Saturday, and managed to pick up a package at the Post Office (containing a beautiful, albeit hard to wear out of the house with just a t-shirt and jeans, bracelet/ring thing). Sunday was the big day though. I met the kids at 8:00 in WBL to get ready for the worship service we were leading. All in all, it went well, but it took so much of my energy, I was spent by 11:00 am. Then it was off to Mervyn’s to buy cheap furniture. They’re closing, you know, and that meant I could work on refinishing the youth room… cheaply. I ended up with 6 round cafe tables and 2 rectangular ones. All are unfinished plywood/pressboard, and should present a great opportunity for individual creativity. Mosaics? Paintings? Poetry? Who knows….

I got a quick nap when I returned home after eating some pasta, and then it was off to my first-ever shift at The Bridge. I had a really good time. For confidentiality reasons, I can’t really tell stories, but let me just say that the kids in my youth group now seem calm and might not get in trouble that much this fall. 🙂

Work is boring today.

Oh! In other news that I forgot to tell you, I’ve come out of my boy-induced psychotic episode (see last Friday). I am, again, calm and focused, not stressed out about being 26 and not having a boyfriend in at least the last 4 years and having no prospects and when are you going to get married and have kids and buy a house in the suburbs? Really, I’m OK. I don’t really feel my biological clock ticking (I’m not really sure I even have one, and if I do, it’s on life-support). Sorry if that last link doesn’t work (my internet is acting really funny so I can’t check it right now).

Latah!

Rockin’ out to: Sweet Silence
Wisdom Source: 1984
Today’s Wisdom: Don’t rely on the internet. When you most need it, it won’t be there. It’s probably seeing other people, too.

New Crush

Well, I have a new crush. Amanda & I went to a party tonight hosted by a friend of hers (a former co-worker). I had had a tiny crush on him before, until we found out he was about to propose to his girlfriend. A few months pass by, and now he’s broken up with her instead. This party we went to, we were almost the only females there, and definitely the only single ones (although Amanda would argue that none of the guys were single). He did talk about “bachelor life” and throwing the party to “pick up girls,” but all in jest. Or, mostly in jest. He touched my arm at one point. Yeah.

The thing is that I already know him, who he is, what he stands for, what he believes in. He’s real. Sure, I don’t know much about him, but every interaction I’ve ever had with him has been… real. Why do I bring this up? I have the tendency to read into things, to build them up to what they’re not, and I did this with my last crush. It was all email, and when we met in person. I just didn’t feel a connection. And I promised myself not to date anyone else without some “chemistry” on my part. I either feel it or I don’t – I can’t make it up, or pretend, or ignore. I haven’t gotten physically involved with any of my boyfriends because I didn’t feel it (or the very few to whom I was attracted obviously weren’t with me, or they didn’t try anything). I never understand all the times I see on TV or movies when people are making out (or more, use your imagination) even if they don’t like the person, of just because they need to get it on. I can’t do that – I’m not like that.

Maybe I think too much; I’ve always been super-aware when a guy’s been going in for the kiss (or whatever) and it always freaks me out. My mind races and I’m totally not calm and not in a good way. I don’t think it’s supposed to be like that.

So my old crush, I just didn’t feel it. And I don’t know how he feels or what he thinks is going on. I’m trying not to lead him on, but I also don’t want to jump the boat if there’s no need to. Maybe he just wants to be friends.

New crush I’m going to name SummerCrush. I don’t think anyone else gets to know his initials yet. Well, Amanda will figure it out, but that’s it. He’s rebounding right now, or at least that’s what I’m supposed to remind myself. Gosh darn it, though.

He feels very strongly about politics, and I’m pretty sure at first look we don’t agree on much. But a lot of my political ideas are… moldable. Yes, some are written in stone, but for the most part I’m uninformed. And while here in Minnesota I call myself conservative, I’m much more liberal than I let on, or than I think I am. Being here has made me cling tighter to my conservative roots – more so than I actually believe in. I guess I’m saying that it’s not really all real, my feelings of being conservative, and that I’m open for discussion in a lot of ways.

I should get some sleep. Pleasant dreams of SummerCrush….