Biding Time

This is something I've been turning over in my mind for awhile, and Jen's recent post, and quaere verum's comment on that post, sparked further ruminations.

Those ruminations run along these lines: I'm living a great life, I have a great job, great friends, great apartment, great cat. I fill my time with hanging out with others, smiling at people, cleaning my apartment, reading good books, and (most Sundays) going to church. I watch a lot of good movies, maintain important long-distance friendships, talk on the phone with my family, dress well, wear make-up every day, walk the neighbors' dog, go to bed early, get up early, cook interesting meals, pay my bills (mostly) on time, and am even starting (slowly) to write again. I journal, read my Bible, talk to God with increasing frequency, care with increasing depth about the people I know, go for long walks around the neighborhood, stop and smell the crocuses (which don't smell like much), bask in the sunshine that appears, and leap for glee at the coming of spring.

In short, I fill my life with a lot of meaningful, enriching activities and interests. I maintain myself in appearance and health. I manage my budget better than I've done in years. But when it comes to the end of the day, and I think back on everything I've accomplished, I continuously return to one thought: I'm just waiting.

It's all filler, folks. What I really want, I have wanted since I was twelve: A family. I want a husband and children, a house, a dog and cat, a minivan. I want hungry people to cook for. I want to raise a family of yelling, rambunctious, complicated children on my husband's income while I stay at home, keep a hearty, warm, welcoming house, and write.

I plan to generate some income from my writing, but in the long run, I don't want an 8-5. A year ago, when I knew I needed to get out of retail or tumble back into depression, Marianne asked me what my ideal job would be, to help get me started on the search. A split second of blinding clarity passed before I answered, "Not to have one." That's when I knew, without shame or apology, that what I want is a family. I don't need fame, or recognition (except in the literary world), or the success of a brilliant career. I don't particularly care where I end up living (as long as it has distinct seasons; but even that's up for debate). I really want connection, community, and family.

In the meantime, I have a fabulous job. God has clearly directed me to the Center, and I know beyond doubt that for this season, I am where I belong. But that's in a temporary sort of sense; I don't see myself retiring from the Center in forty-five years.

Now, I also don't see myself becoming a desperate housewife. I believe in the need for "a room of my own," my own space, my own friends, apart from my children and outside my home. I plan to foster that through friendships, helping out around the community, gardening, and writing.

So yes; it's good, in the now, to avoid the brittle emptiness of losing a relationship with a man by filling my life with meaningful, worthwhile things outside dating. But the thing is, I already do that. I am happy with my life and work. I love my friends and the community I'm building here in South Bend. I love being "second wife" at Meg and Phillip's house. Anyone looking at my life can say along with me, Wow. This is great.

But the things I've accomplished so far -- career, living solo, financial independence, being debt-free, gourmet cooking -- those are all stepping stones toward what I really want. I'm working hard on living a good, rich life in the place I am, right now, for myself. I'm also unapologetically waiting for the fulfillment of my truest desires, which I'm finally, clearly owning up to: family. People with whom to share my life, on a binding basis.

All other relationships are transitory. People come and go. Some of my favorite coworkers will be leaving in the summer to pursue other aspects of their lives. MP won't be around in South Bend forever. My two dearest friends from childhood live across the country. Community is beautiful and necessary, but it shifts, ebbs, flows. It changes over distance and time. It's family that gives you roots, an emotional grounding, even if you and your family are constantly pulling up stakes and moving to a new place. In a relational sense, family is the still point of the turning world.

And that's what I'm hanging in, and holding out, for. I'm working on perfecting myself as much as I can in the meantime. I'm developing good habits and good traits. I'm doing everything I can. But in the end, I'm biding my time until the man comes along with whom I want to share and build the rest of my life and love. I'm biding my time until the children come along into whom I can pour my love, time, and energy.

All of this, what I'm doing right now, is great. But all the accomplishments (not the relationships), while exciting and great and worth being proud of, and (some of) which I will certainly continue throughout my life, with or without marriage and family, are just filler. I'm not desperate, I'm not in despair. I won't give up my identity when I finally have what I'm waiting for. But I am biding my time. I know what I want, and I don't have it yet. So I'm doing the best I can, looking to God for continuous direction...and waiting.

Which can be incredibly frustrating. I'm doing everything right. And family hasn't come to me yet. But at least I know what I'm looking for, even though I still haven't found it. So while I gladly do what is given me to do in the present, I have my eyes fixed on the goal.

That's just the way it is.

Reconsidering the Convent Plan...

Okay ladies, it’s been a rough night. I’m rather frustrated with my own attitude and am seeking the solace of my fellow fabulous females. My heart is in the process of healing, but right now, it hurts. I need a Band-Aid. Recently, I stuck my neck out. Laid it all on the line with this guy that I’ve genuinely cared about for more than a year. It’s one of the few times in my life that I’ve been so straight forward with anyone. Needless to say, his response left me confused but I do know the truth. He’s just not interested in me. If he was, he wouldn’t have made up excuses. One thing I dislike about trying to be friends with a guy like that? It’s that I currently feel like a second-class friend. He treats me differently. Like he’s so afraid I’ll take something the wrong way, he barely looks at me. It’s insulting and rude. I get it! I don’t need pity, and I certainly can understand the concept of "no way."
I hate myself right now. Earlier this week I was filled with joy and peace. That’s been replaced by something much uglier. While on the mission trip a few weeks ago, God made it very clear that I need to let it go. That I need to stop harboring this little beam of hope and just move on. And I’ll be honest, I thought it would be easier. Much easier. I was wrong. The night we returned from Mexico, I called Adam and explained what had been revealed to me. He pointed out that while we "give things up to the Lord" it also requires action on our part.
Well, I’ve been avidly seeking out Jesus, praying, and focusing on other things. However, it’s difficult when the guy is involved in the same church, same activities. Tonight, I went to the Saturday evening church service to give a testimony about the trip. I expected to see Pastor Dan and some of the youth. No Pastor Dan. Instead, I walk into the sanctuary to see the guy... sitting with a girl I had considered a friend.. And realized that I introduced them. I’d even confided in her about my feelings for him. At that moment, I knew I was faking it. I had on a smile and sat with them since I’d gotten an invitation. But truthfully, I wanted to run away. It took every ounce of courage I could muster to talk to both of them. What if they get together? That same thing happens to me over and over. I like guy, I (naively) introduce him to a "friend" and she gets him. All during the service I was privileged to witness them sort of flirting with each other. As soon as it was over, I had to get out of there. To top it all off, they made movie plans right in front of me. Ouch.
In my 23 years of life, it’s safe to say that I’ve been patient. I’ve been the "cool girl." The one who isn’t petty and dramatic. The one who guys can talk to about anything, open them up to new experiences, challenge them, love them for who they are. So where is a man who can offer those qualities to women like myself? Why can’t men love women like us? What is it? Are we too big for them? Too wonderful? I’m so tired of being the gal pal who doesn’t get the guy.
My brain knows that this guy... isn’t nearly the man I need. He’s not dynamic and passionate, and doesn’t "get" me. Whenever I was in his company, he just didn’t seem to appreciate who I was. But I haven’t been able to make the feelings disappear and stop caring. Flaws and all, I liked him. A lot. Even when he acted strangely and hugged everyone else except me. Even when I took him to a basketball game and found out that he’d gotten similar tickets and invited the girl mentioned above but that it "wasn’t a date." Even when he invited me to the movies and cut in front of me to go first, and I had my foot run over by a stroller. Even when I went with him as his date to a formal event and he insisted on leaving really early as if he couldn’t stand to be there with me for another minute.
Well, I’m finished wasting my time chasing after something so frivolous. The above description doesn’t match any girl’s dreams -- certainly not mine. So tonight... Tonight my heart is hurting. I’m sacked out on the sofa eating Girl Scout Cookies and watching When Harry Met Sally for the second time, and that’s okay. My roommate reminded me about a birthday party, but I really don’t want to go anywhere.
This is one of my favorite quotes from TV show Veronica Mars: "The people you love let you down." How right you are, Veronica. Humans are not perfect, and that’s why we need Jesus to rely on. He IS perfect, and He’s our strength. Back to VM, my favorite episode is focused around an 80's dance at Neptune High called "Total Eclipse of the Heart." Veronica’s friend Meg has a secret admirer, and Veronica promises her she’ll track down the love struck guy. Sadly, she discovers that the guy who’s digging Meg is her own ex-boyfriend, Duncan. In an act of pure unselfishness and maturity, Veronica gives her blessing to Meg and Duncan hooking up. I’m really trying to be Veronica-like in this situation, but it’s difficult.
Ladies, any feedback or suggestions or advice?

Flying The Coop

This week’s location is not in El Paso, but in Washington, D.C. Yes, I’m here for a few more days. Thought you all would enjoy another mishap in the life of Jennifer. My friend Melinda is hosting me here, and I’ve been spending time with her boyfriend Emmet and his roommate, Cory. Both of them I’d actually met in El Paso though, so it’s come full circle. Anyway, they decided to help me kick-start my love life. Okay, more like resurrect it, or whatever you want to call it. So finally, they found this guy they wanted me to meet. His name is Andrew, and he studied engineering at Princeton. Went to high school with Cory. Now he works in some little town in south Maryland. He just happened to be in town for the weekend, so Cory took me to meet him in Georgetown on Saturday night.
We met up with Andrew at this place called The Guard around midnight. I must give kudos to Cory, because he was an attractive guy and seemed nice enough. After giving Cory the thumbs-up I made an attempt to have a conversation with Andrew. But that’s where things started going awry. Apparently he wasn’t that into me, because he left to go flirt with a girl with bleached-blond hair and bigger boobs (but that’s not saying much). I was a bit deflated, but figured that any guy who chose a Courtney Love look-a-like over me probably wasn’t that great of a guy. Instead of trying to flirt with Andrew, I danced with two pleasant but drunk girls to bad 70's music. It was a good time! Awhile later, I reconvened with Andrew, his friend Pauly, and Cory. Apparently Andrew struck out with the blond, and was now bitching about it. He said that he couldn’t remember her name, and had insulted her. Nice move! He also told Cory that while he thought I was pretty and nice, I was not his type.
Cory, being the nice nice guy that he is - gave them a ride home. We stopped at Taco Bell, and then went back to Pauly’s apartment. At this time Pauly appears to have died... Seriously, I wasn’t sure if he was alive or not. What’s funny about the car ride was that Andrew fessed something up. When the girl had asked him what her name was, he said "Jen." Hahahaha. (He just couldn’t get me out of his mind.) When we arrived at the building, Pauly walked into an orange construction barrel and brought it inside with him. (What’s up with guys and construction cones/barrels/road signs?) They invited Cory and I in to eat with them. So we did. I managed to maneuver Pauly inside, but he was like a zombie. It was rather strange. Also strange was the fact that Andrew tried to put his arm around me twice.
I don’t know how this is possible, but Pauly was now wide-awake. Awake enough, at least, to eat a Crunch Wrap Supreme and pour us all water. Was he a robot? I’ll never know. When I left the kitchen to use the bathroom, Andrew took the opportunity to tell Cory that he now wanted to "hook up" with me, but knew it was bad because he was drunk and I wasn’t??? Isn’t it usually the other way around, and that the guy doesn’t want to take advantage of a drunk girl? But by this time, he had definitely lost any appeal. There had never really been a chance for a hook up, but it was totally out of the question now.
Back in my younger days, I may have made a poor decision in ths situation. I’m sure glad that’s not what I’m like anymore. What girl wants to be the consolation prize at the end of the night? If I was five years younger, would this guy’s agenda have been so obvious to me? I can’t say what would have happened. Whether we admit it or not, we all want to be the jackpot in his eyes. On the drive home, Cory and I laughed hysterically over the night’s events. Andrew exemplified the ladder theory perfectly and obviously.
If you’ve never heard of the ladder theory, visit this site:
http://www.laddertheory.com/
All bad jokes about Andrew aside, I also felt kind of sorry for him. Cory definitely had noticed a huge change in him since high school. Andrew’s one of those guys that used to be really nice, but didn’t get girls. So he decided to become a jerk to get girls. Perhaps not the best strategy, if we review the events once more. He still went home alone. It just seemed like a shame to me. If he’d been a nice guy at the bar and not just been out for sex, he would have fared much better I believe. Unfortunately, there are too many women in the world who are participating in the hook up game. Why do some men feel they need to be dirtbags in order to "get women." And in my book, "getting women" is really - pretty sketchy. Why do women validate the dirtbags? We do have some power in the game, because we can NOT sleep around. We can NOT give the time of day to guys like Andrew. We can NOT get drunk and lose our inhibitions and self control. Ladies, we’re not the victims in the bar scene drama. We’ve become willing participants, even sporting the uniform of revealing "get him" apparel.
Well, I’m not playing. I hate this game. I really can’t stand what it does to the male/female dynamics. It allows the wrong people to prevail. So, what I’m saying right here... right now, is... I'm offering fair warning to every guy out there, that I'm nobody's fool. Game over.