Fat Tuesday Meditation or Silver Lining Sick Day

Fat Tuesday Sick Day

One of the lucky things about being me is that I inherited my dad's family sinus issues. This time of year, when the flowers just begin peeking out to see if the weather is warm enough to hang out for an extended period of time, is the time when my sinuses decide to rebel and punish me for craving the warmth and colors of spring. I'm sure that this year, my sinuses are just confused. How could they not be. One day, I'm able to walk outside in short sleeves and absorb the sunshine. The very next, the drizzle is freezing as we drive to work and school. My system has to make a vital decision:

Do the sinuses attack now or wait till spring break (a month away). I believe that they were tricked on Sunday when I spent the afternoon outside with Amanda. They believed that it was actually spring break. I believe this because yesterday, I came home with a stomach that was doing a live re-enactment of the North Sea on the night the Titanic sank (without the ship or the iceberg). 

You see, my sinuses often don't act in the way sinuses should act. They don't drain down the proper channel of drainage for most human beings (ie the nose). Ok, sometimes that happens, but for the last few years, that has not been the case. Instead, I get several headaches that range from mildly disturbing to what I call screaming (mildly disturbing = my head hurts, but I can push through and continue being my usual quirky self; screaming = my head hurts so badly that not only do I want to scream, but all the characters in my head want to scream too). After that, my digestive system becomes an angry sea of pain because my sinuses drain down my throat and into my stomach. 

This is a bit upsetting because it is Fat Tuesday and/or National Pancake Day. I would like to be eating pancakes or King cake or any sort of cake today. Looks like I will end up having to let that idea go for now. Actually, I plan to sneak a slice of my mom's strawberry chiffon cake (from scratch) a little later. We'll see if I can hold it down.

For those of you who are unfamiliar with Fat Tuesday, let me first, share this link to explain the day better. For a long time, I didn't know what it, mostly because I was raised Southern Baptist, and they don't really pay much attention to the church calendar, especially if it is connected to the Roman Catholic Church. I didn't really learn much about Lent, Fat Tuesday, or Ash Wednesday (I LOVE Ash Wednesday) till I was an adult. 

Although I am not Catholic, I still am fascinated with this entire part of the church calendar. Entire groups of people choose to find things that will help them focus and refocus how they connect with the Deity. They do these things (or don't do these things) for the forty days that make up Lent. It feels like a very up-close-and-personal time to me. Purposeful choices are made and followed through on in a way that these same people won't do for New Year's resolutions. 

Meditation

Something I tried today as a way to explore what I might choose to do (or not do) for Lent was meditation. I found this really great website called DoYogawithMe. It is a free website with videos that show you how to do yoga as well as videos that teach you the basics of breathing and meditation. I did a 20 minute meditation today that focused my breathing and gave me a different view of what meditation was for. The instructor for the meditation video, Peter Renner, pointed out that wasn't really for relaxation (or that shouldn't be the goal). Meditation is to find your pure self under all the distractions on your personal surface. It is a practice in awareness of all around you and self-awareness. 

A light sort of went on inside me when I went through the meditation, and after it was done, I realized that what he said connected with what I've been kicking and screaming about for a while in my spiritual life.

I walked away from going to church for about two or three years. This was a bit of an unexpected thing for me. I didn't plan to leave. I just came to a place where I went to church and spent a lot of my time there just wanting to tear down the artifices we put up that we thought connected us to God. I wanted to tear down the band and the big screens. I wanted to rip down the fancy sound system and the flowers and the wall hangings. I wanted to pull everything down and stop posturing and listening to empty prayers so that I could see God. I just wanted to be with God in what ever form God took. That was it. I didn't want to be on one more committee or sing in the choir or serve communion one more time or face the expectancy from my fellow congregants anymore. I just wanted to be Mary for a bit. I wanted to sit at Jesus's feet, and I couldn't do that. 

I have since gone back to a different church. I'm sure some people would think that my current church of choice has even more artifice than the one I left. It has large neo-gothic arches in the sanctuary. There is a gigantic pipe organ (I have a soft spot for pipe organs) and a large choir that sings classical music. The congregation is three or four times the size of my former congregational family. I've struggled a great deal with this strange turn of worship choice. I look around as I absorb the grandeur of this new church, and wonder if I've simply embraced a different form of artifice, but oddly, I feel closer to Jesus's feet in this place. I'm allowed to be Mary if I want to be Mary. I don't see the vestments and the choir and the pipe organ and the cross etched with different languages including Ogham runes as artifice. Maybe these things aren't the real artifice I was railing against in the first place. I'm not sure. 

Of course, you're wondering when I'm going to connect all this stuff inside me to the meditation this morning.

One of the things Renner points out in this meditation is that distractions are always with us, always at our surface. We are always busy. We always have extraneous thoughts. When we meditate, we are moving deeper into ourselves, but we are learning to accept that we have those things going on in us and around us and that we can be aware of them and still not have those things disturb our deeper selves or the calm that is our deeper selves. He gave the example of the ocean. The surface is busy and moves with waves and wind. There are boats going across the surface. There are birds diving in and objects floating around and bumping things. When we go deeper in the ocean, those things are still there, but don't disturb the calm below the surface very much if at all. You can still see those things at the top, but you can choose not to respond or react to them.

Maybe that's what I'm learning as I return to church and the ritual. All of the vestments and the choir and the band and the expectancy aren't what matter anyway. What matters is that we are aware of all of them but still seek and see the face of the Deity (Universe, Mother, Father) and feel the Deity around us and deep in us. I am going to contemplate this next Sunday as I worship. Maybe that line of thought was what I meant by tearing down the artifice and didn't know how to articulate it. That doesn't mean that I don't respond or react to any of the things on the surface. They are still meaningful and worth doing. Without response or reaction, we would not be able to carry out the work Jesus really wanted us to do (you know, care for each other, feed each other, clothe each other, talk and share with each other). Just like that busy stuff on the surface, we need those things to make us who we are. At the same time, it's ok to sit beneath the surface for a bit and breathe and be aware of all those things, but sit with the Deity for a bit.

Be still and know. I AM God.

Meditation can be a way to live this scripture. I changed the punctuation this scripture for a reason. Meditation is the part that is us. We are still. We are focused. Our breathing centers our knowing and awareness. God is God even when we aren't still and we don't know. When we meditate, we can get to that still and that knowing. It's awareness. It's quiet. God is there.

Silver Lining Sick Day

I've spent all day today in my pajamas, feeling sick. It was a gray, February-esque day, and by all rights, I should be feeling sorry for myself. I HATE being sick. In spite of how I've felt, today has miles of silver lining. I decided to use Lent as a way to learn to meditate and begin taking care of my body and my spirit. I still feel pretty nasty, but I'm pleased and have a bit of peacefulness inside me. I have no idea how my plan for Lent will work out. All I can do is try and reach out everyday. The face of God is nearer. The artifice is less of an issue now. It's there. I don't worry about it. I no longer blocks my view or my chance to reach the Deity. 

Today has been beautiful. Can't wait to see what happens next. 

February Funk

Winter Lingers

February is my least favorite month. It's gray and dreary. The weather is bi-polar (or maybe tri or quad...not sure). I begin to tire of wearing sweaters, socks and boots. The sun teases with hints of warmth and gold that indicates spring while the wind reminds us of the truth that is late winter. I crave the beach and flowers and my sandals. 

Until the spring really arrives, I tend to slide into a bit of a funk. This February I've manage to stave off the funk till this week. I'm proud of myself because usually this funk takes hold the first week of February instead of the week before sliding into March, which is often the first step toward warmth and light and flowers. In the meanwhile, I have to distract myself. 

Distractions

One thing I do when I find myself in a funk is wrap myself in music. Sometimes I listen to music that I'm familiar with that  will raise me out of my mid-winter night of the soul. This is music I can sing with because when I sing, I have a hard time being sad or dark. Other times, like this month, I discover new music and become addicted. It gets embedded in my brain to the point where I wake up to it in my head and have to play it over and again till I soak all the feeling out of it. My latest discovery (my Facebook friends already know and are probably sick of me posting about this) is Robert Downey Jr.

Yes. THAT Robert Downey Jr. Go ahead. Take a minute and admire. I know I'm doing the same. 

midnightreview.co.uk

 I somehow missed the boat about knowing he could sing. Some of you are laughing at my lack of knowledge in this matter, but I just discovered his album The Futurist. 

Why did no one ever tell me about this?! Seriously? Also, why has he never made a second and third and fourth album?

Oh yeah...Iron Man. Yeah. 

 His voice is a warm, fuzzy R&B blanket that I've wrapped myself in for the past week or so. In case you doubt me, here is a sample:

He's got a sort of vulnerability when he sings that doesn't show as much in his other performances. I know...I sound a bit like a moony fourteen year old, but this album has helped me pull out of my funk for just a bit. It's probably good that I'm not a friend of his because I'd bug him to sing to me all the time. 

I've also distracted myself with the new season of House of Cards. 

Amanda will tell you that I have a thing for Kevin Spacey as well. He's delicious in this show, and he sings in one episode, going to prove that evil can have a lovely singing voice when it wants to have one. I haven't finished the season yet (most of my friends binged the first weekend Netflix posted it) because I'm trying to savor it and take my time with it. This is especially important since my other favorite drama, Downton Abbey has closed its season as of last Sunday night. I'm so fascinated with Frank Underwood, Spacey's character, that I forget that I'm in a funk. 

Spring Is Coming

Soon spring will come, and distractions won't matter as much. My dark spirits will lift as warmth returns to Atlanta. In the meanwhile, there are my distractions, and I will enjoy them. While I know this is not a deep response to my funk, and while I know I could be much more serious in this post, this is where I am.

Only a few more weeks till spring, folks. Hold on. 

Motivation..I Have None Today

Monday after Snowmaggedapocalypse

For the first time in seven days, I'm seated in my office at work. This should be a lovely thing for me. I was trapped at the house for five days with my parents. As many of my friends will tell you (and I will too), I adore my parents. They are awesome people. Five days in the same house, however, is a lot to ask of three adults who are all opinionated and set in their ways. To say I was happy to come to work today is an understatement.

Still, I got here, spent two hours with my students in the library as they were trained to use the library and the library website, and got back to the office in time for lunch. My diabolical plan---(1) to eat a hearty lunch of microwaved Rice-a-Roni and (2) to grade one of three batches of essays I need to have completed before next Sunday.

It is now ten minutes before my last class of the day. Guess which part of my diabolical plan I completed. It had nothing to do with essays and everything to do with how hungry I was. 

Desire-5000+              Motivation-0

Welcome to the Real Lives of Georgia Technical College Instructors!

So far, none of my co-workers are completely focused or motivated. We are all sort of slogging through today as we readjust to the real business of recouping two weeks of lost time.  In another day or two, we should be back to relative normal.

Misdirected Motivation

Before I completely claim no motivation at all, let me point out that I have eaten and done a Zentangle (yes, Rhonda, picture will follow). I did this during my second library instructional class with my 1010 students. 

It was either do this, or be completely unengaged.

The thing that is really cool about Zentangle is that it is a sort of meditative doodling. It takes away stress and strain and replaces it with calm. It makes me feel the way knitting makes me feel (happy and peaceful), and I can do it in a less obvious way than whipping out the needles. 

Anyway, I totally blame my friend, Rhonda, who is an artist and a dear friend. You should check out her artist's page on Facebook. Her work is amazing, and she does commissions. She doesn't know this (ok, now she does), but when I get my own place, I'm planning on ordering some of her paintings [Tree of Life, my dear]. Rhonda started doing Zentangle before Christmas and has incorporated it into her painting with really wonderful results.

So, as you can see, my motivation was more misdirected than nil. I drew a Zentangle. My day is complete!

The only other thing I've really been motivated to focus on is knitting pattern collecting. I go on Facebook during lunch and discover new afghan square patterns---FOR FREE! Free patterns put me on a sort of addictive spiral. I post them, I go check Ravelry, (THE website for knitting and crochet addicts like me), and if I really am wandering around, I'll go hit Pinterest. It's sad. No motivation for things like bad writing and disappointing essays, but give me patterns, and I can go for hours.

[BTW--you'll have to suffer through more of my knitting addiction if I start the afghan I'm sort of imagining in my head bwahahahaha!]

So, Is There a Point to This Post?

Uhhhhhh...not really. I just wanted to share that I am really wandering today. I guess some people would say I have ADD or ADHD or some other abbreviated thing that says that I'm not focused. (And before anyone decides to blast me in the comments below, I'm not making fun of anyone who may have this sort of issue. For some people it's real. I don't have these things. I'm just not focused today. That's all.) Coming off an entire week of being able to do what I want, when I want and stepping back into the structured world of classes and teaching and expectations is hard. If you made me choose between grading papers and watching House of Cards while knitting slippers for clients, guess which I'd go with?

I promise that I will put myself back together quickly and have a long grading session involving Thomas Dolby (my current favorite grading partner) and multiple cups of cinnamon tea (another current favorite). The papers will get done. I will move forward. I might even get that basic plan for the new chapters in the novel done (I hope).

Support is awesome, btw. Make sure to leave some kind comments and let me know if you recognize this lack of motivation. 

Snowmageddapocalypse 2014: Part Deux or What Does the Ice Say?

Looking Out of My Window at Casa Nettles

I'm sitting in my pajamas today and looking out of my window at the yard and road as it's coated in ice. Yes, I live in the Metro-Atlanta area. Yes, this is for real. If you are reading this from some far way, Northern place, go ahead and laugh. Atlanta, and most of Georgia, has shut her doors in response to the sheet of ice that has covered our roads, trees, cars, and wires. We are lucky here at the house---we have electricity, food, and plenty of quilts. We are ok. At this point, I'm just praying for spring.

Wait, Where Have You Been Since May, 2013?

Oh...yeah...I sort of dropped the ball for a long, long time, which means my millions of readers have most likely dropped to ten readers (if you are one of my ten readers, thanks for waiting and waiting and waiting). Let's see...I went to St. Louis in July and that was massively cool. I went to the top of the Gateway Arch (if you've not done that, it's a must do. I'm so glad I did that). I housesat from August to December, which was a really interesting learning experience. I also learned that I hadn't lost my photographic chops. That was a thrill. My aunt passed in November after a long battle with cancer. I also lost a good friend to cancer in December (stupid cancer). The entire family went to Dallas. Texas to visit my brother and niece for Christmas, and also visited my grandmother as she celebrated her 99th birthday. Lots of crazy good things.

Ok, Back to Today

What's been interesting about this ice storm here in Atlanta is that there has been a lot of backlash from the first storm, which came about two weeks ago. For those of you who don't watch the news or weren't in the area two weeks ago, Atlanta was totally gridlocked because everyone was released from work too late to beat the coming ice. I know friends who were in their cars for over 24 hours. Gina was on the road for 7 hours and finally had to abandon her car to find shelter with friends.

This storm worked differently, in part, because people took the time to think about what to do before the storm arrived. Many of us have been off work since Tuesday despite the fact that yesterday was mostly rainy and lacked the temperatures to freeze things before nightfall. Some people thought this caution was stupid. I was thankful. I would much rather err on the side of caution than find myself or my loved ones trapped in an icy hell on the highway. Now, it seems that we may have the rest of the week off. Is this going to be hard on me and my students? Yes. Do I care. No. I'm safe and so are my students. That's more important at this point. We will find a way to catch up. No worries.

I like that I'm able to sit in my pajamas, knit, watch skating, grade a little, and be warm and safe. The ice says, "Slow down. Breathe. Don't fight this."

I'm good with that mentality.

A Trip to the Georgia Renaissance Faire with Fae, Arndor, and Geri

Introductions Are in Order

So, a couple of Sundays ago, I was was preparing to go the Georgia Renaissance Festival, an event I have attended since the mid-1980s (yes, I'm really that old), and heard a knock on my front door. I was surprised to discover some family members who are technically fictional waiting there. They wanted to go to faire with me.

Fae, my Fictional Daughter

Fae stepped through the door first. Fae is my fictional daughter who is a surgeon and is now married to a young squire. She informed me that that she and the squire, Arndor, were on a sort of holiday after their recent marriage (actually, this marriage happened back in the fall. I did not get to attend. Serious timey-wimey problems.). They had heard of this faire I attended in the spring, and wanted to tag along. I worried since this was their first time in this time period, but then I saw that Geri was with them, and figured they could handle it, especially if he could.

Some of you remember Geri from previous posts. He is my fictional son, and has visited me several times. He has even been known to attempt playing on the Internet. Behind them was Arndor, my fictional son-in-law. I like him---a lot. He's  been very good to my children.  

Geri, my Fictional Son

Going to Faire

So, anyway, we went to faire. The first obstacle was the car. Geri and Arndor were certain that my red PT Cruiser was a demon of some sort. Fae was less afraid, but still did not like the idea of riding in such a thing. I had to show them that it was not alive and had no desire to take them to the underworld or kill them. There is, however, a scratch on the back of my car where Geri tried to hit it with his axe. :(

Fae was excited because she got to dress up a bit more than when she is home. She wore a corset (which she loves) and dressed herself up a bit. 

We made it to faire safely and without incident (although Geri and Arndor spent a lot of time yelling and waving weapons out my windows at the other cars. Thank goodness no cops saw us). We then parked and made it to the gate without incident. When we got in, I took some photos to mark their appearance at the faire. 

Marriage in the 11th century is an odd thing. This is not a marriage of love, necessarily, but more a marriage of political expedience. What I learned watching these two, however is that sometimes, political expedience can lead to something more. Arndor is devoted to Fae, and Fae would gladly stand by his side and fight with him. It's an extraordinary kind of thing, really.  

As the day progressed, this fact kept cropping up in their conversations and in how they acted with one another. 

After photos, the young couple, and Geri were ready to explore the fair and all it had to offer to us. We met Leonardo da Vinci (got hugs from him---made my day), and looked at many crafts and met several friends. 

The day was sunny but cool, which made them feel at home because Ottland is usually coolish (at least from what they've told me). 

Soon, the men were hungry, but because it was a faire day, Fae was not obligated to cook (cooking is actually something she loves to do, and is, according to the men, she is quite accomplished at this task0. I suggested my favorite dining experience at faire, the Peacock Tea Room. It was there that they had tea for the first time, as well as assorted cheeses, fruits, and breads. 

They all warmed to the place really quickly, which was a bit of surprise to me. I wasn't sure that the men would care for the place, but I think all it took was a little smile from Fae and some tea, and they became comfortable. Fae even relaxed and took her head covering off for a bit. It was a warmer than their home, and I'm sure she was getting hot. Arndor and Fae spent a good part of lunch teasing one another, and Fae was particularly excited because she could actually read the menu. She's only recently learned to read, so it was a treat. The were also a unsure about the forks at first, and decided they were weapons of war! 

Geri managed to see many, many beautiful women this day, however, the fact than none of them spoke his language made it difficult to for him to get to know anyone. Still he seemed to enjoy himself at the tea room. He also discovered that he loved tea. He loved it so much that he filled his drinking horn with the stuff and carried it around with him the rest of the afternoon.

After lunch the group sort of goofed around and looked at pretty things (Fae likes pretty things). We came upon a hat shop at one point, and things got a little crazy. I have to wonder what was in that tea...

Soon, it was time for us to leave, and we were all tired, but sad to do so. We had a lovely time at the faire. I was also sad to see this group of travelers go back to Ottenby, and hope they come to the present again soon. 

Easing into My Summer Vacation

End of Term

I finally, finally made it to the end of the spring semester, posted my grades early, and kicked back, hoping to focus on writing (particularly writing the novel that Melissa and I are continuing to work on). So far, I've learned some things, but haven't gotten a huge amount of writing done. 

What I've Learned Thus Far

1. Writing at the house is hard. No one means to distract me. No one means to make me feel closed in. I know this, and yet, I find myself being frustrated because I have no place to sit and feel like I have my own space right now. This is mostly because we live in a small 1960s ranch home with five people. We are pretty much on top of one another at all times. There is no retreating to my den or hiding in my "living space" (my way of getting around using the term bedroom). I can close my door, and it doesn't matter because there will be a knock on the door within a few minutes and questions about my well-being. I know none of this should matter. I should be enough of an adult to muscle through this, and maybe, eventually, I will. So far, in the last three days, I've managed to write, all total, about 3000 words. I'll get into a groove, be in the forest with my characters, and then...Mom walks through the scene telling me about someone I don't even know and their back problems. You can go ahead and tell me just how bad of a child I am at this point.

2. It is easier to work on anything else except what I want to work on. So. Many. Distractions. A friend messages me on Facebook which leads to a twenty minute discussion on creeds. My son texts me begging to be released early from school. I have a new class I begin teaching in three weeks and I discover that I need to do a major overhaul of the material I've been given. My knitting calls me from its basket by my bed. The sunshine calls me outside to read.

All I want is to write. When I do manage to get going on a chapter, my brain is screaming about all the other stuff I need to do.

3. I need a routine. I managed to get a routine during Spring Break (some of you recall that glorious time). This routine has been lost. I still have a routine, but it is mostly like what I've been doing. Get up. Wake up my son (who is graduating from high school very soon). Make his lunch. Eat breakfast. Either leave the house or attempt to work there in spite of everything.

4. Sometimes, people don't get what it is you're doing. It is a funny thing. My family is a family of creatives. We do all sorts of artistic things. We paint. We make furniture. We sew and bake. We make knives and do leatherwork. We write and make music. Still, there are times when I don't think and don't really get the creative work that others in the house do. We understand our own creative things, but not the creative work or space needed by others in the house. 

I often times wish I had a shed or a wing of the house or that the basement was a finished basement instead of a storage space worthy of Warehouse 13 status (the kids are convinced that there is a portal to Narnia AND a portal to the underworld down there). I wish there was space where Mom could have a sewing room and Dad could have a shop away from the house (the fumes. man. The fumes!) and Stuart could do leather work and Gina could paint and I...I could close the door and write for three or four hours a day. We live so close to one another that sometimes I think it's hard for us to understand that we need that space and time from one another.

What Then? What Should I Do?

What I'm learning is that I have to make a way for my writing to happen even if the only writing I do for the day is write a blog post. I write so I don't doubt myself. I write because it is the only way for me. Will I finish that latest chapter? Probably. In time. Will I get to that script I promised Thomas two weeks ago? Definitely. Do I have to complete all of it right now in the moment. No.

Maybe this is what runners and bicyclist learn as they run and bike. Maybe this is what "Just do it" really means. I just write. The rest will work itself out. Each project will come as it comes (even with a deadline). Even if I have to write in my house. Even if I have to drive to Hiram and sit in a slightly busy Starbucks for the next two weeks. I need the writer's life too much to sit back and let it go. This is my endurance test, and I plan to pass it.

Thanks for letting me ramble today. I promise my next post will be pure fun. Promise. It will even have pictures (some of you know what is going up next, but don't tell). 

"Life's Too Short to Waste Time"

A Confession or Two

There are a few things I want to confess as we begin this post. First, I originally promised myself that I would not post stuff about my dating life. I didn't want to use this forum to whine and moan over being single. I've been single for a long time now. I'm ok about that for the most part. Wait, rephrase, I can live with being single for the most part. Ok may be too strong a word. The point is, I didn't want to make this blog something that all you millions of readers look at and say, "Oh, Jess is flailing around about how she's single and and lonely again." Anyway, now I'm about to break that original promise. I would have continued my silence in this matter, but the story I'm going to share is just too funny. 

Secondly, I confess to having joined a dating website, OKCupid  last week. I did this because a couple of people mentioned it as some place where they'd met some pretty cool guys who weren't axe murderers or head cases. This is a big deal to me because I'm sort of terrified of online dating services. I have this overwhelming feeling that I'm going to be the user who draws the axe murderer who has been hiding on the site for years under the name "sweetgeorgiaboy" and who has been waiting for someone just like me to add to his list of women hidden beneath his staircase at home. Anyway, I like OkCupid because I can talk to people without having to pay a fee (there is nothing more frustrating than joining a dating website that is supposed to be free and then discovering to communicate with prospective dates, you have to pay a fee. Why should I have to pay a fee to talk to a stranger?)

"hello I'm bobby care to talk"

This evening, I got a message from this guy calling himself "bobby." He wrote a quick note, "hello I'm bobby care to talk".  Now, in all fairness, I generally am not motivated to talk to people who can't do basic grammar, but I figured he was using a phone and maybe he was a bit shy. So I messaged him back and told him that I'd talk to him. The conversation was a bit stilted at first. I'd write fluid answers worthy of a writer, and he'd write single sentence answers written as though Captain Caveman were behind the keyboard. 

First he was curious about my size (I reference this as one of the first things people usually notice about me): "What do you mean people notice your size?" he asked. This was interesting to me because (1) it was the first time he actually used punctuation in his writing and (2) it immediately made me nervous (I struggled with mentioning my size in the first place, but decided that honesty was in order. I'm now questioning my sanity in this decision). 

He admitted to liking women under 5'3". I asked him, "Why do you prefer women under 5'3"? There isn't a huge population of us around." Of course, in my head, I'm immediately thinking of all the reasons some guy (who is 6'3") really likes women my size. Now, before all of my beautiful over 6 ft guy friends who read this come crashing in and defending your love for us smallish girls, let me remind you that I love you and know that that many of you have wonderful, loving, sweet, and understandable reasons why you think we are awesome. We are perfectly awesome. Still, when I read that, I heard Jim Kirk in my head raising all systems to yellow alert. (I'll bet Jim Kirk likes small women too...wait...he likes all women...nevermind). I think it was the specificity of his comment. I immediately thought to myself that he must like us because he felt like he had more power over a small woman. 

His response: "Idk maybe I find taller women intimidating" (back to no punctuation).

The man is 6'3" and finds women taller than 5'3" intimidating?! Really? Really?! Has this man never been with a woman smaller than 5'3"? Has he never faced the wrath of an angry under-five-foot? Does he think smaller women are easier to control?

God help this poor man.

At this point I probably should have just said something over the top mean and blocked him, but I had time to kill before Grimm, and I was bored, so I kept the conversation going. 

He wants to know what I'm looking for on okcupid, which is pretty much like asking "What's a nice girl like you doing in a place like this?" By now, I've read his profile, and he, like most of the guys on the site are looking for a "woman who is affectionate, honest, and has a loving heart." Let's focus on being honest here because, hey, that's what he's looking for, right?!

I said up front that I wasn't looking for anything serious. 

Soon, however, it became obvious that my definition of "serious" and his definition of "serious" were miles away from one another (damned connotation). 

He jumps to "I'm going to be honest, I'm misunderstood a lot. [could be your run-on sentences, m'dear] What I'm looking for is an loving honest open mate" 

I'm learning that "loving honest open mate" usually means "I want to sleep with you as soon as possible. Hope you understand and don't care about building a real relationship."

He goes on: "When ever I describe what I'm looking for in a relationship and I get to the part about the physical part of a relationship, women somehow get the impression that its all I'm interested in" 

I asked him to explain misunderstood, and then observed that it sounded like he was looking for a wife. I then gently explained that I was not interested in getting married. 

Sidebar [not said to 'bobby']: Now when I say I'm not interested in getting married, let me make it perfectly clear at this point that marriage is not something I don't think about. Being married again could be good. It might even be the best thing ever. Who knows? What I do know [and this is what I said to him] is if I married again, it would only be if the guy was someone who totally knocked me off my feet, took my breath away, and was absolutely someone who I wanted to be with the rest of my life. I'm not saying that I want a perfect man. There are no perfect people (chose that word purposefully). David Tennant is married anyway (joking, joking--David, if you're reading this [doubtful], I wish you and your beautiful bride all the best). Anyway, I'm not looking for the perfect man or mate or whatever. I just want to be happy and my mate to be happy.End of sidebar

It's then we see where his being "misunderstood" begins. He replies, "Okay number one I am not looking for a wife a lot of women are uncomfortable with a live in long term relationship but that's what I'm seeking to start out with" 

Uh. What?! Let's rewind this a minute... "that's what I'm seeking to start out with"

I know. This is the place where I should have stopped the conversation. It's obvious that he is a man who in search of something very different than what I can offer him. Instead, I took upon myself to clarify why women my age (but I meant  women with any sense at all) misunderstand what he wants. I explained that most women my age are cautious at best and aren't going to just move in with a guy they've just met. He, however, continued the discussion with reasoning that a physical relationship is important or the two people involved are just friends.

Friendship is usually where good relationships start, bud. Just saying. He then told me that "life's too short to waste time."

After that, it became clear, as my friend Thomas later observed, that "bobby" was thinking he was a lion and I was a wildebeest on the arid plains of okcupid. What he didn't count on is me turning him down and making him justify himself for me. I had to tell him twice more that I wasn't the girl he was looking for [he failed the nerd test I planted in that statement too...he didn't laugh at my Jedi mindtrick joke...]. He told me he was sad to see me leave the conversation as I was an "exciting and challenging woman." It's good to know I can evoke those feelings with guys. 

He did say that he'd have liked to take me to dinner and have face-to-face time. He felt that most women cut off that part too early and there was no way to figure out if we had chemistry. It's sad that he doesn't get that he's killing himself right in front of women who might date him if he'd dial it back from eleven. 

"Life's Too Short to Waste Time"

I am in my mid-forties. I totally get how some people get this attitude of not wanting to waste time growing into a relationship, physical or otherwise. It's hard to be alone. It's hard to wait and be patient to grow into a relationship or to find one at all. One of the things he kept pushing in the conversation was that moving in was a perfect solution because (a) it meant everyone was in one place, so no dashing between houses and (b) if the relationship didn't work, no harm, foul, or legal ties.

As Amanda observed, this guy must have been burned badly.

I have to flip this around a bit though. Life is  too short to waste time and jump into living with someone you only barely know only to have to leave the situation in a few months. Life is too short not to want to take your time and end up with something better that will be long term.

Interesting AND Educational

So I told Amanda that while this conversation was disturbing, it was interesting (he kept me engaged for an entire hour) and educational. I felt like I learned a few important things here:

• My word definitions are sometimes different from others. Clarity is important, particularly when discussing relationships. "Serious" to you may not be reflective of "serious" to your conversation partner. Ask questions and be clear. 

• I know more what I want than I first thought, and I'm able to express those wants pretty clearly, even if the conversant in question doesn't want to acknowledge those desires.

•  If I guy says he's looking for a loving open relationship, he's probably looking for something sexual. That's ok, but not if that's not what you want, that's ok too.

I'm not sure if I'm going to continue this "little experiment." Who knows? It might be fun to have one "OkCupid" post a week here, just for the comic value. Life's too short to waste time not laughing about this stuff.