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This last weekend I took a continuing education course in Excel through my local community college. It was surprisingly good, and I’m really glad I did it. This is something I can put on my resume, and it gives me more confidence in the one program in the Microsoft Office Suite that I felt very unsure about. Now all I have to do is secure a job, and I’ll be set.
Or, you know, go back to school for a useful certificate/degree.
I also went to church this Sunday. A new one. It was also surprisingly good. I think I will go back for sure. And I’m looking forward to going back. It was time.
That’s all. Life is just one big jumble of trying to find motivation to find a job, in the midst of doing all the little things I want to get done.
Christmas was good.
Considering if I should do New Year’s Resolutions.
Still need a job.
Kittens are still hysterical and adorable.
Made potholders today. Still need to make: Bible cover & 3 aprons.
Re-reading the Narnia series.
Need to re-read The Hobbit now that I’ve seen the first movie. (Embellish much?)
Not much else to say.
I have really vivid, involved dreams. Last night’s was weird… I was at a center that was for women who had been abused, and in the basement of this center were cats. Like, 100 cats or something, in all stages of life. I’m not really sure what that says about me…
I finally got my employee number for my new job. Now I’m just waiting (eagerly?) for my supervisor to call me in for training. My worst working nightmare is coming true: working retail on Black Friday.
On Monday, I’m starting a 30 Day Fitness Challenge with one of my friends. We have to confess to each other if we skip a day. I hope this gets me on a good schedule again. I swear, I’m just getting fatter and fatter. That 30 lbs I wanted to lose before I was 30? Still there. Ugh!
And in the spirit of trying to make my blog not only about things like jobs, kittens, and the thesis:
Whenever I agree to go on dates with men, I always wonder if I am merely setting them up for failure. Am I incapable of having relationships with men that aren’t purely platonic? Do I actually want to live a single life? I don’t think any of my friends believe I want to be single ultimately. Sometimes I think I do, for all the reasons stated previously.
But then I also think about going through life alone, just me and the kittens… The world isn’t built for single people. And the Christian world most definitely is not. And then I read all these money articles that tell me that I’m going to live in poverty because I’m single and a woman. But these are practical reasons for relationships–although, in the end, what other reasons are there, but practical ones? Do people really simply get married because they can’t imagine living without the other person? I can’t imagine that. Probably because I would always be able to live without someone… I am selfish and self-reliant enough to enjoy living by myself.
Time will tell.
A conversation with my dad, Sunday afternoon:
Dad: So this might be none of my business, and just tell me to butt out if you want, but are you ever going to go back to church?
Me: [cue nervousness] Um, probably. I don’t think I care about going as much as you and Mom do…
Dad: Is there anything I should know?
Dad: It just seems weird, you finishing up a seminary degree, and not going to church. You aren’t losing your faith, are you?
Me: No… My faith is fine. I just don’t like Christians.
It’s weird when my parents try to parent me. And when they add matters of faith to the mix. Because I’ve never considered them great examples… Sure they have the outward stuff down, but I’ve yet to see evidence of the inward. And I’m not saying it’s not there. I’m saying my parents live in secrets. They don’t share or open up about anything. So how would I know?
And I did try to go to church that Sunday evening (unbeknownst to them). But during the announcements, they were saying how this fall they’re starting “Men’s Fraternity” back up. And this year they’ll be studying Jesus’ life to see how he lived as a man in order to see how they should live as men. And I left. That’s exactly what my thesis is fighting against. (Well, it’s one of the things.)
In other news, I don’t think I’m going to go to Ecuador. I think the lure of a job (if I can find one!), my own place, a truck, a pet (or two), and free time is too strong a lure to resist. Counseling, time to try to write a book… Those are bonuses I cannot deny.
Now all I have to do is actually write my thesis.
Sometimes you have to give up on your dreams. Sometimes they simply aren’t attainable. Sometimes you have to find new dreams to chase, and you have to make those dreams yours.
You also have to decide if healing is worth the effort, or if you might as well walk through life bleeding and broken. Sometimes I’m not sure. I’m used to my pain. I’m used to my hurt. It’s not that I don’t want to be healthy, but it’s that I’m not sure I have the energy to begin to figure out how to get healthy. And I’ve already decided to make big life choices that coincide with my brokenness instead of walking a path of hopeful healing.
Life doesn’t work out perfectly in the end, with the perfect guy, perfect life, perfect family. Life is not Twilight.
In case you were unaware, I am not a laid back person. I never have been, and it’s doubtful that I ever will be.
That said, something that frustrates me more than almost anything is when I’m in a group or a committee and things aren’t getting done, and my co-members (almost always men) just say: “Don’t worry about it; I’m sure it will all work out.” Not that they mean they are about to do anything. And the problem is that people like me just pick up the slack and fill the gaps.
But no longer, my friends. No longer.
I’m done. D-O-N-E. Done.
I suppose that my frustration level is also increased by everything going on in my life, of which I will not subject you to a list. But know that today was one of those days in which it was hard to even get out of bed. And somehow, in the next 45 minutes, I need to get rid of this frustration so that I can be pleasant on this date I’m going on.
Why is life so messy?
I have found myself creeping more and more back into my old patterns of living, which really is to say I’ve been bitchier and less social. And it’s a toss-up on whether or not I care. I certainly don’t need fair-weather friends who are only willing to be my friend while I am in a happy-go-lucky, cliche Christian mode (not that I could ever be accused of that), but I do wonder if its fair to expect people to be my friend if I’m not reaching out to them, but actively shunning them.
Regardless, I was feeling low the other day (every day) and decided to ask a friend why he had continued to pursue my friendship even though I’d consistently pushed him away. This was dredging his memory from about six years ago, so I was impressed by the level of thought he put into it. But his response was this: “Three reasons. First you made me curious. I had to understand what made you ‘tick.’ Second, you made it a challenge, and I am very competitive due to growing up with [my brother]. Thirdly, I liked you and valued you. You listened and spoke to me and made me laugh and made me think. You moved me.”
I guess I couldn’t have asked for a better answer. And it made me feel better, knowing that even though I’d rather crawl back into my shell, there will always be at least a few people who care to look further.
Today my fingernails are a delightful shade of green called “Rise and Shine” and topped with sparkles. You need to know this because I like who I feel like I am with painted nails.
I am drinking slightly weak coffee because I wasn’t paying attention when I made it.
I fantasize about having my own apartment/house and living by myself. I also feel ready to meet someone and be done with walking through life alone.
My homework overwhelms me, yet it must get done. Somehow.
I want to take another year of Hebrew, but I can’t afford it.
Ready, Set, Go.
Being “home” this time has helped in a way I didn’t imagine. It made me miss my real home. The one where I now live, rather than the one where I used to live. I might not have everything like I want it at home, such as a niche, but it’s my home. It’s where my life is. And this, this is not where my life is anymore.
I’m going back a day early, tomorrow. Partially it is because I have gotten ZERO homework done (yikes!) and partially it is because I miss it. I don’t have a place here anymore, and I’d rather be where I at least sort of have a place.
I like my friends here, don’t get me wrong. But for the most part, they are friends that are my friends when I come to visit and not really otherwise. That is not a bad thing; it is part of life. It is what happens when someone moves. Everyone moves on. And I have moved on. And it is better that way. I’m not too confident about fully putting down roots yet, however, as I have no idea of where I’ll be come December. But that’s okay.
It seems that the grass isn’t always greener on the other side after all.
This is what I’m going to ask from life: that I would have just one physically present friend who wants to be friends with me just as much as I want to be friends with them. I’m tired of being alone. I’m tired of being lonely. I’m tired of being the one who puts forth effort time and time again. In fact, I quit. It’s better to be merely alone than to be alone after trying to not be. So from now on, if people want to see me, they can do the work. They can put forth the effort. And if not, well, Harry Potter will always be there for me. And I have plenty of homework.
I wish December would hurry up and get here. I’m ready for a change.