Well, I am a good part of the way through my first day of 40 on my great adventure. Now I have the feat of telling you how it all played out. The drama … the excitement … the big fat fight I witnessed in the laundry room.
I’ll have to get to that later. First I have to say I am a big fat grouch pants today, or at least I have become one. I’ll admit much of it has to do with having a final ice cap and donut which kept me up 3 ½ hours past my bedtime. Oh well, I’m glad I did it. Anyways I woke up at my normal too early time, with only 5 hours of sleep. I say that fully knowing that some people (at least one person) reading this, probably is lucky to get 5 hours sleep in a night. I’m used to 7 or 8 so I’m going to admit that I was tired when I got up, however I got up. And I was excited for my challenges.
I decided that I would try and tackle #10 on my list and work on going to the gym 6 times this week (my gym is only open 6 days in a week). I guess deep down I want to get that one over with, and I’m going to a wedding on Saturday and it wouldn’t hurt the bod. I went and worked out at the gym, posted a few random thoughts here, got clean, then enjoyed a great conversation with my auntie on the phone – man my day started out GREAT! I splurged with a chicken nugget and baked potato lunch, accompanied by far too much honey for dipping and a dollop or two too much sour cream – I’m off of sugary goodness I have to make up for it somewhere.
After lunch I decided to go tackle an ‘experience’ and visit the laundry room. It was time for me to get to know a dryer. So I took my 2 loads of laundry down to the 1st floor and began the process. I decided to be productive and leave it washing while I walked Sweet and Sour, no big deal. I then returned to take the clothes that I would hang up back to the apartment, after I put the others in the dryer. I loaded them in and filled the machine with change – 75 cents … wait it costs 25 cents for 5 minutes and unless these are miracle dryers there was no way my stuff was going to get dry in 15 minutes. I quickly added up how much more change I needed and thought to myself ‘THIS is why I don’t use the dryer when things can dry all on their own.’ I took the rest of the wet laundry upstairs and hung it, then grabbed my change.
I thought I’d quickly check my e-mail before going back. I did, then I grabbed my book and off I went. (Keep in mind I have now used the elevator 4 times in the past 20 minutes because I had also just taken the doggies out – these elevators are slower than molasses in January) and off I went again. As soon as the elevator door closed I realized I forgot to grab a laundry basket – I got my book, but that wouldn’t help me carry up my clothes (and knowing my luck I’d leave a Hansel and Gretel trail of sparkly undies for the creepiest old man to follow back to our apartment). I waited out the very long elevator ride and went back to our dwelling. I decided to go use the washroom quick before I went back. Once I’d done that, off I went again. Got into the elevator, to the laundry room, saw that the laundry needed a few more minutes and then realized I once again forgot the basket – grrrrrrrr!
So back I went, lucky to be on the elevator with the same old lady that several months back, saw me get on the elevator with my backpack and immediately asked if I was sick. I replied no and couldn’t figure out why in the world she asked me that out of no where. Then she went on and on about people travelling all over from Mexico with the swine flu and that she didn’t want to get sick – she was very annoyed. (Uh, hello, like I’d be travelling to Mexico with just my backpack – do I look like someone who would do that?). Anyway this broad held her tongue for both rides and I thanked the Lord above. I FINALLY got my laundry basket and went back down to the laundry room and that’s when I witnessed the laundry room brawl!
I went and checked my stuff, which still had 5 minutes, then went and sat with my book on a nearby bench. As I sat a little old lady, who maybe weighs a hundred pounds soak and wet, remarked to a big burly man about the 5 washing machines he was taking up (there are only maybe nine in total) . The man was a cheery sort … initially. He took it in stride at first, but then she wouldn’t let it go. He said that he had to work so he couldn’t come at all different times and asked what he was supposed to do. She kept challenging him and wouldn’t back off. I sat very quietly pretending to read my very spiritual book (come on, I wasn’t going to miss this – finally someone was calling someone else on breaking the ‘only use 2 washers at a time’ rule, which I had diligently followed – I’ve been waiting for this for months!!!).
After the rather intense confrontation (aka fight) was over I breathed a sigh of relief and went over to get my dry laundry. Only thing was that it hadn’t completely dried, harrumph! After all of the elevatoring I had done and waiting and watching, my towels and socks were still damp! Oh well. I had completed my task, I had used the dryer. Most of the stuff was dry, so I folded it up, went back to our apartment and hung what was still damp. I then decided that for all that hassle (not to mention the 2 bucks in quarters down the tubes), I would continue to hang every article of laundry I had. (Even though I have to admit, it was soooo nice not to have crunchy washcloths, socks and underwear – and yes that’s with fabric softener).
My concluding thoughts on using the dryer for the first time: Though I am too frugal to take advantage of the luxury of a dryer on a regular basis, I am indeed very glad I put this item on my list. Now I know how to use it if I want to (ok so it wasn’t that hard) and if I ever need it again I won’t contemplate for months before giving it a try.
THAT’S what this experience is about, trying new things so that I’ll try more new things … big or small. I wonder what’s on tap for tomorrow … Tequila or a bikini … I’m not sure but I think I’ll need the Tequila in order to get to the bikini.
Cheers!
Monday, July 20, 2009
Randomness…
Last night at work:
I apparently was asking Guy a lot of questions (the same guy I’ve mentioned before), such as: Where are you going? What are you doing? Why are you doing that? He responds to me with: ‘Eva, why are you so curious all of the time. You shouldn’t be – wanna know why? Because curiosity killed the cat Eva and you don’t want to die!!!’ Understand he said this with sincere urgency and in great seriousness.
Later Guy asked why I always held my head, looked down and shook it after he said stuff. I had no comment for him.
I was at the gym this morning and one lady said to another ‘It keeps slipping out, I can’t help it’ – in my head I laughed … I sometimes have a dirty mind.
Today on my walk with the poochies I passed by a Hershey’s wrapper that was lying on the ground, in that moment I hated #1 on my list.
Before I went to the gym this morning I had no e-mail, when I came home I had 4, 3 of which were from real people. First of all this is like the highlight of my day (I love real e-mails) and second of all, I learned that between 7-8 in the morning people are checking their e-mail.
Wally is a great writer and public speaker. He does whatever he does well. I have bad punctuation and say um a lot (or just too much of whatever’s roaming through my mind).
My list of 40 things to do in 40 days seems to be growing in my head (of course I’m now starting the next list). I’ve also decided to be a complete and true cheeseball and begin a ‘bucket list’. I love cheese. I really do.
Speaking of cheese – I haven’t tried enough different kinds – its number 1 on my next list – Try 5 new kinds of cheese. I don’t know if I’ll wait the 40 days for that one.
I think that when I type I’m dyslexic.
I met a woman at the gym today, who had great legs, the perfect hair, looked around 30. She has five kids, the oldest of which is 20. She strikes me as a genuinely happy person. She introduced herself to me, and said hello to several ladies by name. All around, she was just too cute for her own good. I liked her a lot and hated her a little.
I just realized the grammar check in MS Word sometimes has worse grammar than me or I, whoever.
I apparently was asking Guy a lot of questions (the same guy I’ve mentioned before), such as: Where are you going? What are you doing? Why are you doing that? He responds to me with: ‘Eva, why are you so curious all of the time. You shouldn’t be – wanna know why? Because curiosity killed the cat Eva and you don’t want to die!!!’ Understand he said this with sincere urgency and in great seriousness.
Later Guy asked why I always held my head, looked down and shook it after he said stuff. I had no comment for him.
I was at the gym this morning and one lady said to another ‘It keeps slipping out, I can’t help it’ – in my head I laughed … I sometimes have a dirty mind.
Today on my walk with the poochies I passed by a Hershey’s wrapper that was lying on the ground, in that moment I hated #1 on my list.
Before I went to the gym this morning I had no e-mail, when I came home I had 4, 3 of which were from real people. First of all this is like the highlight of my day (I love real e-mails) and second of all, I learned that between 7-8 in the morning people are checking their e-mail.
Wally is a great writer and public speaker. He does whatever he does well. I have bad punctuation and say um a lot (or just too much of whatever’s roaming through my mind).
My list of 40 things to do in 40 days seems to be growing in my head (of course I’m now starting the next list). I’ve also decided to be a complete and true cheeseball and begin a ‘bucket list’. I love cheese. I really do.
Speaking of cheese – I haven’t tried enough different kinds – its number 1 on my next list – Try 5 new kinds of cheese. I don’t know if I’ll wait the 40 days for that one.
I think that when I type I’m dyslexic.
I met a woman at the gym today, who had great legs, the perfect hair, looked around 30. She has five kids, the oldest of which is 20. She strikes me as a genuinely happy person. She introduced herself to me, and said hello to several ladies by name. All around, she was just too cute for her own good. I liked her a lot and hated her a little.
I just realized the grammar check in MS Word sometimes has worse grammar than me or I, whoever.
Sunday, July 19, 2009
Starting an Adventure!
As I write this it is very late (by my standards at least). My tummy is full of a Brownie Ice Cap Supreme and a sour cream glazed donut from my good friend Tim Horton’s. I felt it necessary as in a couple of hours I am beginning a very exciting journey. A journey I couldn’t truly try until now. I have been practicing quite a bit here and there since we moved into the city, but now that I have had some time to try a few things I am ready to go all the way.
I made a decision this morning that I was going to use this blog to my benefit for this experiment - as a sort of accountability partner and record keeper. A passion has grown within me in the past several years; a passion to live and take control of things (as much as I can), to experience people and places, and all sorts of things that I’ve been raised to fear. I no longer want to let those fears determine what perspective I am allowed to look through. I want to experience lots so that I can understand lots. By guarding my actions and my surroundings I have missed out on people and experiences that could ultimately change my character and my life. I want to begin tomorrow to step out of my egg shell and take on the world.
Ok so I have to admit this sounds waaaaay more dramatic than it really may be. In fact, to most people what I am doing will sound like the kindergarten class of life. But I am deciding not to be ashamed. Instead I’m going to take baby steps and challenge myself in things I have avoided and would continue to avoid in life had it not been for my undying desire to learn, grow and connect with those around me. I figure if I can take on the ‘small stuff’ now and be changed by it, then later on I can tackle the ‘big stuff’ and continue to change and grow.
Here are a few things I have had to use as ‘practicing’ in living life. These things are what I wouldn’t have done had I not chosen to get over my fears.
• Over a year ago I started a gym – would’ve never done it before, I would’ve worried about what people thought about me spending my money on that sort of thing. (I would’ve been self-conscious as well).
• I recently went to a movie all by myself for the first time (in a sketchy theatre I’d never been to no less – I was also the only person in the theatre).
• Last week I drove downtown to the central library (we have several) at night, by myself, on a whim. I had to park underground, had no real idea where I was going or what I was doing. In fact it took me ten minutes to figure out how to actually get into the library (it is inside of a mall and is 2 stories – I couldn’t seem to find any doors yet could see all of the people inside reading their books – torture!!)
• Several months ago I began attending a home church. I didn’t know a soul.
Like I said before, to many people these things are just a part of the lives they live, no big deal. But for me, growing up in a tiny town of 2000, with my rural roots (you seriously have to do a family history on the people you date because you never know if you could in fact be related), all these things were a big deal. I figure a great way for me to expand my horizons is to write down some of my goals, or hopes, of the things in life I want to experience. Some of them are small things and some are much bigger. Some will certainly seem mundane and silly; the point isn’t to worry about how applicable they are to the grand scheme necessarily, but to let the little moments get noticed too. I am so very excited for this adventure. I cannot wait to share what it is and what I am doing. But if you are curious you will have to join me tomorrow to find out what it is that I am up to.
I do hope you will come along for the ride!
I made a decision this morning that I was going to use this blog to my benefit for this experiment - as a sort of accountability partner and record keeper. A passion has grown within me in the past several years; a passion to live and take control of things (as much as I can), to experience people and places, and all sorts of things that I’ve been raised to fear. I no longer want to let those fears determine what perspective I am allowed to look through. I want to experience lots so that I can understand lots. By guarding my actions and my surroundings I have missed out on people and experiences that could ultimately change my character and my life. I want to begin tomorrow to step out of my egg shell and take on the world.
Ok so I have to admit this sounds waaaaay more dramatic than it really may be. In fact, to most people what I am doing will sound like the kindergarten class of life. But I am deciding not to be ashamed. Instead I’m going to take baby steps and challenge myself in things I have avoided and would continue to avoid in life had it not been for my undying desire to learn, grow and connect with those around me. I figure if I can take on the ‘small stuff’ now and be changed by it, then later on I can tackle the ‘big stuff’ and continue to change and grow.
Here are a few things I have had to use as ‘practicing’ in living life. These things are what I wouldn’t have done had I not chosen to get over my fears.
• Over a year ago I started a gym – would’ve never done it before, I would’ve worried about what people thought about me spending my money on that sort of thing. (I would’ve been self-conscious as well).
• I recently went to a movie all by myself for the first time (in a sketchy theatre I’d never been to no less – I was also the only person in the theatre).
• Last week I drove downtown to the central library (we have several) at night, by myself, on a whim. I had to park underground, had no real idea where I was going or what I was doing. In fact it took me ten minutes to figure out how to actually get into the library (it is inside of a mall and is 2 stories – I couldn’t seem to find any doors yet could see all of the people inside reading their books – torture!!)
• Several months ago I began attending a home church. I didn’t know a soul.
Like I said before, to many people these things are just a part of the lives they live, no big deal. But for me, growing up in a tiny town of 2000, with my rural roots (you seriously have to do a family history on the people you date because you never know if you could in fact be related), all these things were a big deal. I figure a great way for me to expand my horizons is to write down some of my goals, or hopes, of the things in life I want to experience. Some of them are small things and some are much bigger. Some will certainly seem mundane and silly; the point isn’t to worry about how applicable they are to the grand scheme necessarily, but to let the little moments get noticed too. I am so very excited for this adventure. I cannot wait to share what it is and what I am doing. But if you are curious you will have to join me tomorrow to find out what it is that I am up to.
I do hope you will come along for the ride!
Going to the chapel and we're gonna .... go into mounts of unnecessary debt ?
Weddings ...
*Sigh*
Part of me cannot wait to get out my feelings on weddings and then there’s another part of me that is fearful of how my thoughts will spill out. Oh well, here she goes…
Weddings. In they’re purest sense are one of the most sacred, beautiful, meaningful celebrations in a person’s life, if they choose to have one. They are coveted by young women and dreamed about by girls even younger.
What first comes to mind when you think of a wedding? To me, a big white gown, multitudes of flowers, extravagant décor and dress, lots of food, laughter and some tears. I think of the ‘the walk’ down the aisle, vows that are recited, promises made, perhaps a father/daughter dance, followed by some once in a life time speeches (good or bad). Oh and don’t forget the cake – a brilliantly decorated cake is essential for a good wedding.
As I mention all of these things I chuckle to myself. Don’t get me wrong, these are all beautiful additions to a nice celebration of love but how vital are they really to a celebration of a sacred covenant that is being made between two people and their God? That is the true essence of a wedding, isn’t it? The coming together of two people into one, who plan (with God’s help) on spending the rest of their earthly lives together. When I put it that way you kind of do wonder what all of the pomp and circumstance is about.
I think back to when Wally and I were preparing for our own wedding. Since my mama didn’t get to plan her wedding (when she was 19) she was quite excited about helping us with ours. And since mama and pop were paying they certainly had the final say. In all honesty I would have loved to run off and get married without the big show especially when mama stormed into my bedroom 2 weeks after we were engaged and demanded we get ‘on this’ and start making some concrete plans. She is an organizer and needed things done yesterday, I just wanted sit and enjoy knowing that soon (within 7 months) I would finally be able to live my life with Wally all the time.
Anyway Wally and I decided that the main thing we cared about was the ceremony – it was the real reason we were going ahead with the ‘big’ wedding. We wanted to set an example of deep respect and commitment for the covenant we were about to take part in. We wanted others to be there to witness our vows to one another and hopefully later keep us accountable for the words we were promising to each other.
We indeed planned the ceremony and mama made sure the décor was beautiful, as well as the reception. I tried to make sure my girls’ dresses were affordable, modest and wearable again. Wally and I pursued premarital counseling and only went a couple of times before our pastor said we were ‘good to go’. I nearly begged him to keep working with us – I had ‘issues’ with Smoky mama and knew that I wanted to work them out before the big day. The pastor however said he thought we were the most grounded couple he’d met with (to marry) and that we had ‘good heads on our shoulders’. I was praying he’d change his mind and help me work through some of my bitterness (it’s another long story). Anyway I was left to my own.
We indeed had a wonderful day and a very meaningful ceremony to both of us, and surprisingly many others. We wrote our own vows and added our own ideas. We refused to have a unity candle on the sole basis that everyone had a unity candle. We chose our Scripture and songs for our musicians to sing and play. Every single person in the ceremony was specifically chosen in regard to our relationship to them. I collected my bouquet as I went down the aisle, from several people that were special to me and whom played important roles in my life at different times. I wrote special notes to each of them, to share with them why I had chosen them and what they meant to me. I loved it and I loved them.
My brother, Marshmallow, lived up to his name that day. He bawled and bawled all day and throughout the ceremony. He hugged me (and I mean HUGGED me) 3 times throughout the day. I had written him an extra long, REAL letter, sharing my unconditional love and care for him as his sister. Apparently when he read it at home (after I’d left) he cried like a baby and just sobbed and sobbed. You see normally he puts on this ‘tough guy’ act and tries not to show emotion, I guess it wasn’t working for him that day – I’m glad.
I’ll never forget walking down the aisle and saying to Pop ‘Wow! There are so many people!’ To which he replied (in a cracked, shaky voice) ‘You’ll be fine, it’s ok, you can do this.’ Um, I think I should have been the one telling him that… his reaction was interesting to me because I’d never seen him crack before or seem nervous - EVER. He is Mr. cool-calm-and collected.
So we lived through our day and all of the pomp and circumstance. I did wear an off white dress that I had made by my closest friend’s mom. I loved that it was made by someone who respected marriage and upheld it’s sacredness. She hand stitched much of the lace because I couldn’t afford to buy the actual amount needed. The dress was beautiful. Not like other bride’s dresses. It didn’t make me look like a princess on her most perfect and only day. Instead it made me feel prepared to take vows that would bind me to another person. It was different, imperfect and special just like me, and just like the life I was walking into.
A couple weeks ago I was talking to a friend of mine about my ‘most beautiful day’ ever. I was referring to a time I was in a friend’s wedding. When I was done talking my friend said ‘You mean except for your own wedding, right?’ I smiled and said ‘No.’ She looked at me awkwardly and waited. I tried to explain that I never felt that ‘fairytale’ way about our wedding day, but that it was intentional. I didn’t ever want to set myself up to feel disappointed or diluted about what my wedding day was supposed to be about. It was really about Wally and I making a covenant, period. Not about feeling like the most beautiful person on the planet. No dress, jewelry or hairdo could make me beautiful on my wedding day, that was an inside job and I had hoped that I’d done my homework and succeeded.
I don’t mean to come off as a ‘know it all’ about weddings or that I ‘have it all together’, or that I am such a godly woman, because I don’t and I’m not. I fail in so many ways: with my attitude (especially with family), I carry around bitterness of hurts from long past, I birth jealousy that clothes me in the ugliest of garments. However over the years Wally and I have been married I have had a front row seat to what marriage can bring with it: the challenges, the hurts, the frustrations. These things only get glossed over during the sermon at a wedding. How often do you here a couple talking about how they are going to deal with the day when the husband loses his job when they are signing up for their bridal registry? Hmmmm … never.
Marriage is a wonderful gift and a beautiful one, if cared for, but during the planning of a wedding the main focus seems to always be the day, to celebration and how everything is going to look in the moment. And that’s the thing, the day lasts but a moment and the marriage lasts … well that depends.
I suppose part of me just wonders, if we could strip away all of the outward stuff and started to work on all of the inward stuff, what would happen to our divorce rates? By no means am I trying to judge people that have decided upon divorce but I'm sure many of them would say themselves that they would do things differently. Perhaps they would still marry the same person but maybe consider possible circumstances they may go through as a couple and how they may react. Now I realize that there really is no possible way for a couple to know what they would really do in this situation or that. The thing is that many of them are so caught up in the fairytale they are planning (in their wedding) that they fail to recognize that life indeed takes over after wards and you don't drink from champagne glasses and feed each other cake every night for dinner. That unlike the day of your nuptials, things don't always go smoothly, you don't always respond adoringly at one another and you can even look down right ugly to each other - and the kicker is neither one of you give a rip what the other one thinks.
Once again I'm not trying poo poo the party, just trying to make the after party an event that can be enjoyed for more that a mere few minutes. I could truly go on about this for hours and hours but I will force myself to stop.
Wedding: the ceremony or celebration of a marriage
Marriage: a legal union of a man and woman as husband and wife (or now a days between two people), a close union
Seems to me you need a marriage before you can have a wedding ... at least one worth celebrating.
*Sigh*
Part of me cannot wait to get out my feelings on weddings and then there’s another part of me that is fearful of how my thoughts will spill out. Oh well, here she goes…
Weddings. In they’re purest sense are one of the most sacred, beautiful, meaningful celebrations in a person’s life, if they choose to have one. They are coveted by young women and dreamed about by girls even younger.
What first comes to mind when you think of a wedding? To me, a big white gown, multitudes of flowers, extravagant décor and dress, lots of food, laughter and some tears. I think of the ‘the walk’ down the aisle, vows that are recited, promises made, perhaps a father/daughter dance, followed by some once in a life time speeches (good or bad). Oh and don’t forget the cake – a brilliantly decorated cake is essential for a good wedding.
As I mention all of these things I chuckle to myself. Don’t get me wrong, these are all beautiful additions to a nice celebration of love but how vital are they really to a celebration of a sacred covenant that is being made between two people and their God? That is the true essence of a wedding, isn’t it? The coming together of two people into one, who plan (with God’s help) on spending the rest of their earthly lives together. When I put it that way you kind of do wonder what all of the pomp and circumstance is about.
I think back to when Wally and I were preparing for our own wedding. Since my mama didn’t get to plan her wedding (when she was 19) she was quite excited about helping us with ours. And since mama and pop were paying they certainly had the final say. In all honesty I would have loved to run off and get married without the big show especially when mama stormed into my bedroom 2 weeks after we were engaged and demanded we get ‘on this’ and start making some concrete plans. She is an organizer and needed things done yesterday, I just wanted sit and enjoy knowing that soon (within 7 months) I would finally be able to live my life with Wally all the time.
Anyway Wally and I decided that the main thing we cared about was the ceremony – it was the real reason we were going ahead with the ‘big’ wedding. We wanted to set an example of deep respect and commitment for the covenant we were about to take part in. We wanted others to be there to witness our vows to one another and hopefully later keep us accountable for the words we were promising to each other.
We indeed planned the ceremony and mama made sure the décor was beautiful, as well as the reception. I tried to make sure my girls’ dresses were affordable, modest and wearable again. Wally and I pursued premarital counseling and only went a couple of times before our pastor said we were ‘good to go’. I nearly begged him to keep working with us – I had ‘issues’ with Smoky mama and knew that I wanted to work them out before the big day. The pastor however said he thought we were the most grounded couple he’d met with (to marry) and that we had ‘good heads on our shoulders’. I was praying he’d change his mind and help me work through some of my bitterness (it’s another long story). Anyway I was left to my own.
We indeed had a wonderful day and a very meaningful ceremony to both of us, and surprisingly many others. We wrote our own vows and added our own ideas. We refused to have a unity candle on the sole basis that everyone had a unity candle. We chose our Scripture and songs for our musicians to sing and play. Every single person in the ceremony was specifically chosen in regard to our relationship to them. I collected my bouquet as I went down the aisle, from several people that were special to me and whom played important roles in my life at different times. I wrote special notes to each of them, to share with them why I had chosen them and what they meant to me. I loved it and I loved them.
My brother, Marshmallow, lived up to his name that day. He bawled and bawled all day and throughout the ceremony. He hugged me (and I mean HUGGED me) 3 times throughout the day. I had written him an extra long, REAL letter, sharing my unconditional love and care for him as his sister. Apparently when he read it at home (after I’d left) he cried like a baby and just sobbed and sobbed. You see normally he puts on this ‘tough guy’ act and tries not to show emotion, I guess it wasn’t working for him that day – I’m glad.
I’ll never forget walking down the aisle and saying to Pop ‘Wow! There are so many people!’ To which he replied (in a cracked, shaky voice) ‘You’ll be fine, it’s ok, you can do this.’ Um, I think I should have been the one telling him that… his reaction was interesting to me because I’d never seen him crack before or seem nervous - EVER. He is Mr. cool-calm-and collected.
So we lived through our day and all of the pomp and circumstance. I did wear an off white dress that I had made by my closest friend’s mom. I loved that it was made by someone who respected marriage and upheld it’s sacredness. She hand stitched much of the lace because I couldn’t afford to buy the actual amount needed. The dress was beautiful. Not like other bride’s dresses. It didn’t make me look like a princess on her most perfect and only day. Instead it made me feel prepared to take vows that would bind me to another person. It was different, imperfect and special just like me, and just like the life I was walking into.
A couple weeks ago I was talking to a friend of mine about my ‘most beautiful day’ ever. I was referring to a time I was in a friend’s wedding. When I was done talking my friend said ‘You mean except for your own wedding, right?’ I smiled and said ‘No.’ She looked at me awkwardly and waited. I tried to explain that I never felt that ‘fairytale’ way about our wedding day, but that it was intentional. I didn’t ever want to set myself up to feel disappointed or diluted about what my wedding day was supposed to be about. It was really about Wally and I making a covenant, period. Not about feeling like the most beautiful person on the planet. No dress, jewelry or hairdo could make me beautiful on my wedding day, that was an inside job and I had hoped that I’d done my homework and succeeded.
I don’t mean to come off as a ‘know it all’ about weddings or that I ‘have it all together’, or that I am such a godly woman, because I don’t and I’m not. I fail in so many ways: with my attitude (especially with family), I carry around bitterness of hurts from long past, I birth jealousy that clothes me in the ugliest of garments. However over the years Wally and I have been married I have had a front row seat to what marriage can bring with it: the challenges, the hurts, the frustrations. These things only get glossed over during the sermon at a wedding. How often do you here a couple talking about how they are going to deal with the day when the husband loses his job when they are signing up for their bridal registry? Hmmmm … never.
Marriage is a wonderful gift and a beautiful one, if cared for, but during the planning of a wedding the main focus seems to always be the day, to celebration and how everything is going to look in the moment. And that’s the thing, the day lasts but a moment and the marriage lasts … well that depends.
I suppose part of me just wonders, if we could strip away all of the outward stuff and started to work on all of the inward stuff, what would happen to our divorce rates? By no means am I trying to judge people that have decided upon divorce but I'm sure many of them would say themselves that they would do things differently. Perhaps they would still marry the same person but maybe consider possible circumstances they may go through as a couple and how they may react. Now I realize that there really is no possible way for a couple to know what they would really do in this situation or that. The thing is that many of them are so caught up in the fairytale they are planning (in their wedding) that they fail to recognize that life indeed takes over after wards and you don't drink from champagne glasses and feed each other cake every night for dinner. That unlike the day of your nuptials, things don't always go smoothly, you don't always respond adoringly at one another and you can even look down right ugly to each other - and the kicker is neither one of you give a rip what the other one thinks.
Once again I'm not trying poo poo the party, just trying to make the after party an event that can be enjoyed for more that a mere few minutes. I could truly go on about this for hours and hours but I will force myself to stop.
Wedding: the ceremony or celebration of a marriage
Marriage: a legal union of a man and woman as husband and wife (or now a days between two people), a close union
Seems to me you need a marriage before you can have a wedding ... at least one worth celebrating.
Thursday, July 16, 2009
Time to settle down?
So the other day I walked into the gym and when I opened the door I was met by my least favourite gym worker. She’s a spunky, short, blonde haired (with some help) lady who initially was my favourite. What happened you ask? I talked to her.
I actually hadn’t seen her for quite a while as I was going in at a different time than usual (or not at all, who am I kidding?) She immediately asked how I was doing, and how my family out east was (I don’t have any family out east), then we got chatting.
She randomly asked me how long I’d been married. I replied ‘8 years.’ She gave me a ‘You’re too young to be married 8 years’ look. And I replied with ‘I was 21 and indeed too young to have gotten married.’
Well the look of shock that then struck her face was priceless. It was as if she was waiting for me to announce my divorce (or that my husband and I kept things together through a neighbourhood swingers club – and I don’t mean the dancing kind).
Before I could let her answer my retort I explained that I had a great guy that helped make it work. All was good. She asked ‘You really think you were too young?’ I nodded and then said I wasn’t a proponent of people getting married young. She replied with ‘But if you want to have children, blah, blah, blah’. Then she went on to tell me that her 26 year old daughter STILL wasn’t married or in a long term relationship. Still? I said ‘26 eh? She’s still a baby! She’s got lots of time. And if she’s happy then what does it matter.’ This lady wouldn’t give up. ‘She’s not happy though; she’s dated lots of guys and just can’t seem to find the right one. She wants to have children someday and let’s face it, every woman has a clock.’ Something gave me the impression that this mama was the unhappy one here.
I hate a conversation that gets to this point, when you realize that you are obviously not actually a part of it. You know, when you are talking but no one is listening, you are really just there to here the other person’s woes. Don’t get me wrong, some woes need to be heard. The ones that make you go: ‘Ok so my life’s not bad after all’, or ‘Wow, I could learn something from this person’. To be honest if I were feeling overly kind and thoughtful I could probably squeeze out some sort of lesson, but really I just wanted to share mine.
It seems to me that when I share my views on the young people marrying, many who push it immediately get offended. Offended for themselves (as many of the ones who here me say this have married young), offended for Wally (how dare his wife have the gall to say she regrets getting married to such a peach of a guy), and offended that I would basically say that we should all wait until our eggs and swimmers are nearly expired before we commit to someone.
Ok so first off I want people to realize that it is the most honest part of me that is revealing this – I really should be more guarded with my thoughts and feelings. But why? I’m sure there are others out there that wish they’d waited but don’t say it for the reasons I mentioned above. They worry about people doubting their love for their spouse and the life they have. When I say I wish I’d waited it really has little to do with the person I chose to spend my life with and a lot to do with the fact that marriage is a super serious commitment that involves a lot of thinking about the other person. For example, I have always wanted to travel and do mission work, Wally does not share that same desire (at least not the travelling kind). I have to choose how much I care for one over the other. It doesn’t necessarily mean I give up one and chase down the other, it means carefully and prayerfully considering how to balance the two together.
You see when Wally and I got married we thought we had everything figured out. We thought we knew who we were and how we’d live and everything. Then, as I mentioned in my last post, my world got flipped upside down and I felt challenged and even convicted to LIVE the life I was given (Wally too). The old dreams I had suddenly came alive again. I wanted to go back to school, my desire to travel became more apparent and so much more. These things I’d ‘put away’ when we married. I thought they were for single life, not for people that are ‘settled’. In some ways doing those things aren’t for ‘settled’ people at all and that’s exactly why I want to do them. Why is it that when you get married all of a sudden you are expected stop seeking out perspective on the world?
Proof of this expectation to ‘settle’ has just recently become more apparent to Wally and I as many people we have run into from where we used to live have asked when school was going to be done for us. When we tell them that in 6 months we’ll both be done they are so excited for us. They exclaim: ‘The time will go by fast!’ (Um, who said I wanted it to?), ‘You’ll be so glad to have it done and over with!’ (Really? I kind of like school), and my favourite: ‘Soon you can settle down and get on with life!’ (EEK!! Really? Oh no! I was really hoping this was all the beginning of something new!).
For the record … I know beyond a doubt that God has a plan for Wally and I, that it was Him that drew us together and Him that has kept us together (along with our commitment to our marriage). I do not regret marrying Wally, however if I knew then what I know now I may have tried to experience a few more things BEFORE walking down the aisle, just because it would have been easier to do practically. HOWEVER with that being said, I completely understand that it is possible that there may be reasons why we got married when we did and that my life could be totally different if I hadn’t followed what I felt God was really leading me towards.
I guess I feel so passionate about this whole thing because I know that so many young couples don’t have the benefit of having two sets of committed parents (as Wally and I do), they see marriage as a romantic endeavor (fortunately Wally and I never really did and I think that helped A LOT), and they fail to realize that life can alter every part of who you are without you wanting it to (this we were NOT aware of and we sometimes are surprised we stuck it out this far).
So back to what I had originally started this off with… I think a key for people in our situation, who want to live daily a life of openness to God’s leading and revealing of the very cool and very challenging is not ‘setting down’ and saying ‘Ok I’ve done what I was asked to do (whether it’s getting married, having kids, selling your house and going back to school, or whatever it may be) I can sit back, relax and get on with my own plans now’. Instead it’s continuing to use and stretch that muscle of experience - keep trying new things, keep meeting new people, keep seeing through new perspectives. It is saying and living: ‘What do you want to do next God? Should I go or should I stay? Do I build a home here or do you want me to travel with a tent? What is your call for me TODAY?’
It's never time to settle down.
I actually hadn’t seen her for quite a while as I was going in at a different time than usual (or not at all, who am I kidding?) She immediately asked how I was doing, and how my family out east was (I don’t have any family out east), then we got chatting.
She randomly asked me how long I’d been married. I replied ‘8 years.’ She gave me a ‘You’re too young to be married 8 years’ look. And I replied with ‘I was 21 and indeed too young to have gotten married.’
Well the look of shock that then struck her face was priceless. It was as if she was waiting for me to announce my divorce (or that my husband and I kept things together through a neighbourhood swingers club – and I don’t mean the dancing kind).
Before I could let her answer my retort I explained that I had a great guy that helped make it work. All was good. She asked ‘You really think you were too young?’ I nodded and then said I wasn’t a proponent of people getting married young. She replied with ‘But if you want to have children, blah, blah, blah’. Then she went on to tell me that her 26 year old daughter STILL wasn’t married or in a long term relationship. Still? I said ‘26 eh? She’s still a baby! She’s got lots of time. And if she’s happy then what does it matter.’ This lady wouldn’t give up. ‘She’s not happy though; she’s dated lots of guys and just can’t seem to find the right one. She wants to have children someday and let’s face it, every woman has a clock.’ Something gave me the impression that this mama was the unhappy one here.
I hate a conversation that gets to this point, when you realize that you are obviously not actually a part of it. You know, when you are talking but no one is listening, you are really just there to here the other person’s woes. Don’t get me wrong, some woes need to be heard. The ones that make you go: ‘Ok so my life’s not bad after all’, or ‘Wow, I could learn something from this person’. To be honest if I were feeling overly kind and thoughtful I could probably squeeze out some sort of lesson, but really I just wanted to share mine.
It seems to me that when I share my views on the young people marrying, many who push it immediately get offended. Offended for themselves (as many of the ones who here me say this have married young), offended for Wally (how dare his wife have the gall to say she regrets getting married to such a peach of a guy), and offended that I would basically say that we should all wait until our eggs and swimmers are nearly expired before we commit to someone.
Ok so first off I want people to realize that it is the most honest part of me that is revealing this – I really should be more guarded with my thoughts and feelings. But why? I’m sure there are others out there that wish they’d waited but don’t say it for the reasons I mentioned above. They worry about people doubting their love for their spouse and the life they have. When I say I wish I’d waited it really has little to do with the person I chose to spend my life with and a lot to do with the fact that marriage is a super serious commitment that involves a lot of thinking about the other person. For example, I have always wanted to travel and do mission work, Wally does not share that same desire (at least not the travelling kind). I have to choose how much I care for one over the other. It doesn’t necessarily mean I give up one and chase down the other, it means carefully and prayerfully considering how to balance the two together.
You see when Wally and I got married we thought we had everything figured out. We thought we knew who we were and how we’d live and everything. Then, as I mentioned in my last post, my world got flipped upside down and I felt challenged and even convicted to LIVE the life I was given (Wally too). The old dreams I had suddenly came alive again. I wanted to go back to school, my desire to travel became more apparent and so much more. These things I’d ‘put away’ when we married. I thought they were for single life, not for people that are ‘settled’. In some ways doing those things aren’t for ‘settled’ people at all and that’s exactly why I want to do them. Why is it that when you get married all of a sudden you are expected stop seeking out perspective on the world?
Proof of this expectation to ‘settle’ has just recently become more apparent to Wally and I as many people we have run into from where we used to live have asked when school was going to be done for us. When we tell them that in 6 months we’ll both be done they are so excited for us. They exclaim: ‘The time will go by fast!’ (Um, who said I wanted it to?), ‘You’ll be so glad to have it done and over with!’ (Really? I kind of like school), and my favourite: ‘Soon you can settle down and get on with life!’ (EEK!! Really? Oh no! I was really hoping this was all the beginning of something new!).
For the record … I know beyond a doubt that God has a plan for Wally and I, that it was Him that drew us together and Him that has kept us together (along with our commitment to our marriage). I do not regret marrying Wally, however if I knew then what I know now I may have tried to experience a few more things BEFORE walking down the aisle, just because it would have been easier to do practically. HOWEVER with that being said, I completely understand that it is possible that there may be reasons why we got married when we did and that my life could be totally different if I hadn’t followed what I felt God was really leading me towards.
I guess I feel so passionate about this whole thing because I know that so many young couples don’t have the benefit of having two sets of committed parents (as Wally and I do), they see marriage as a romantic endeavor (fortunately Wally and I never really did and I think that helped A LOT), and they fail to realize that life can alter every part of who you are without you wanting it to (this we were NOT aware of and we sometimes are surprised we stuck it out this far).
So back to what I had originally started this off with… I think a key for people in our situation, who want to live daily a life of openness to God’s leading and revealing of the very cool and very challenging is not ‘setting down’ and saying ‘Ok I’ve done what I was asked to do (whether it’s getting married, having kids, selling your house and going back to school, or whatever it may be) I can sit back, relax and get on with my own plans now’. Instead it’s continuing to use and stretch that muscle of experience - keep trying new things, keep meeting new people, keep seeing through new perspectives. It is saying and living: ‘What do you want to do next God? Should I go or should I stay? Do I build a home here or do you want me to travel with a tent? What is your call for me TODAY?’
It's never time to settle down.
Wednesday, July 15, 2009
Shaken … not Stirred
A few years ago (around 7 now) my life got shaken … not stirred, shaken. My 44 year old aunt at the time was diagnosed with a rare form of leukemia (the week of our wedding actually). She spent 14 months of the end of her life fighting the illness before succumbing to it.
This shook my world. Not because I hadn’t experienced a loved one dying, I had. Not because I was fairly close with her, and I was. Not because I couldn’t go on with out her in my life, I could. But because I didn’t think any of this would actually happen, I mean this kind of stuff happens to ‘other people’. If someone you love gets sick, you pray for them and they get better (at least if you’re spiritual enough they will), or so I thought.
Up until the last few days of her life my family was in denial. We all heard the words that she wouldn’t make it but we couldn’t get past her ‘rally’. She was sent home to die and they expected she would within a couple of weeks – 2 max. After 2 weeks she seemingly began to get better. Her hair was growing back (duh, she was done her treatments), she was hopping and bopping, she had pep. One of my last visits with her was crazy weird. The previous ones were held in her bedroom, with her in bed and I in a chair. She was weak yet spunky, willing to be completely honest and open with her feelings and hopes for us as a family to go on and just chill about stuff. We talked about her struggles with letting go of her husband, about giving her blessing for him to remarry someday, and about how much she would miss being at her only son’s graduation and wedding. She also warned me to ‘be careful what you wish for’ - apparently she had always joked about not wanting to become a grandmother because of the connotation of getting old, now she was getting (to some degree) what she wished for.
Anyways, this visit was different than the others. She was up and dressed, wig in place, make up on. It was night time (another big deal). We hung out in the living area and SHE asked ME if there was anything I needed, then she got me a drink. This visit was filled with good conversation, laughs and essentially … life. It was an amazing gift. We got many gifts when she arrived home. A chance to be honest, I asked her a ton of questions which no one else would (I thought ‘Are you kidding? She’s dying I’m getting it all out there’). A chance to say: ‘Good bye, you’re the best, we love you, we’ll be ok’ even though we weren’t sure we would be. And we got not two, but seven weeks with her.
After it was over and life went on, I fell apart. I cried more than I have ever cried in my life. Not so much during the day – I mean I had to ‘keep it together’ and I was known for that, but at night, before falling asleep I would sob and sob. I would wonder how this could possibly happen to our family. This went on for months as I grieved. Poor Wally said that after several months he almost lost it with me because all I ever did was cry. He wondered if I would ever stop.
During the months that followed I grew bitter with some of the close friendships I had because no one understood my reaction. All my Christian friends seemed to keep saying things like ‘She’s in a better place. You had a gift of extra time with her. She’d want you to be happy.’ Here’s the thing, my reaction wasn’t ALL about losing my aunt. It was about realizing that I’m not immune to tragedy. And though I feel that tragedy is a bit of a strong word to use for this, that’s how I felt. Again this ‘tragedy’ wasn’t all about the person I lost, but that I indeed could lose something real and something important to me. It wasn’t in my hands. I was grieving over my innocence and over the belief that God would protect me from the heart break I was experiencing, and He certainly didn’t. In fact he did the furthest thing from it, He allowed me to feel the pain - physically my heart ached. Before that I thought heart break was only a saying.
Seven months after my aunt died that same family buried my grandfather and my grandmother’s brother (they died a day apart). A week before that my other grandmother passed away. These deaths were sandwiched around Christmas. Two of the three people had drawn out illnesses – and the other had attempted suicide a month before dying of a heart attack. I was also grieving the loss of a couple of very close relationships during this process – which I think died off because of this process.
During these months a transformation took place. First in a seemingly negative way (I remember at one point I said the words ‘pissed off’ to one of my friends on the phone about something else and she was stunned – I was changing). Then after a while I really started to re-examine myself, my life and my perspective. I became aware of my humanity and of how fast life passes us by, and how we do in fact get to choose how we live out this gift.
Did I want to live it out with passion or with fear and trepidation? I did not want to live life in a bubble any longer, scared of ever little challenge and fearful of all of the ‘what if’s’ out there. I began to realize how much control I had over some things and how little control I had over others. I then decided I would do my best not to let life’s heart breaks stunt my growth, if anything I’d allow them to challenge me to go forward. I decided that no matter what I was given in life I would do my darnedest to make something better out of it.
Though I am far from perfect at living this out and most often I feel as though I stumble more than I succeed (just read my last post), I can honestly say that I am doing my best to pursue a life that allows itself to get shaken … not just stirred.
This shook my world. Not because I hadn’t experienced a loved one dying, I had. Not because I was fairly close with her, and I was. Not because I couldn’t go on with out her in my life, I could. But because I didn’t think any of this would actually happen, I mean this kind of stuff happens to ‘other people’. If someone you love gets sick, you pray for them and they get better (at least if you’re spiritual enough they will), or so I thought.
Up until the last few days of her life my family was in denial. We all heard the words that she wouldn’t make it but we couldn’t get past her ‘rally’. She was sent home to die and they expected she would within a couple of weeks – 2 max. After 2 weeks she seemingly began to get better. Her hair was growing back (duh, she was done her treatments), she was hopping and bopping, she had pep. One of my last visits with her was crazy weird. The previous ones were held in her bedroom, with her in bed and I in a chair. She was weak yet spunky, willing to be completely honest and open with her feelings and hopes for us as a family to go on and just chill about stuff. We talked about her struggles with letting go of her husband, about giving her blessing for him to remarry someday, and about how much she would miss being at her only son’s graduation and wedding. She also warned me to ‘be careful what you wish for’ - apparently she had always joked about not wanting to become a grandmother because of the connotation of getting old, now she was getting (to some degree) what she wished for.
Anyways, this visit was different than the others. She was up and dressed, wig in place, make up on. It was night time (another big deal). We hung out in the living area and SHE asked ME if there was anything I needed, then she got me a drink. This visit was filled with good conversation, laughs and essentially … life. It was an amazing gift. We got many gifts when she arrived home. A chance to be honest, I asked her a ton of questions which no one else would (I thought ‘Are you kidding? She’s dying I’m getting it all out there’). A chance to say: ‘Good bye, you’re the best, we love you, we’ll be ok’ even though we weren’t sure we would be. And we got not two, but seven weeks with her.
After it was over and life went on, I fell apart. I cried more than I have ever cried in my life. Not so much during the day – I mean I had to ‘keep it together’ and I was known for that, but at night, before falling asleep I would sob and sob. I would wonder how this could possibly happen to our family. This went on for months as I grieved. Poor Wally said that after several months he almost lost it with me because all I ever did was cry. He wondered if I would ever stop.
During the months that followed I grew bitter with some of the close friendships I had because no one understood my reaction. All my Christian friends seemed to keep saying things like ‘She’s in a better place. You had a gift of extra time with her. She’d want you to be happy.’ Here’s the thing, my reaction wasn’t ALL about losing my aunt. It was about realizing that I’m not immune to tragedy. And though I feel that tragedy is a bit of a strong word to use for this, that’s how I felt. Again this ‘tragedy’ wasn’t all about the person I lost, but that I indeed could lose something real and something important to me. It wasn’t in my hands. I was grieving over my innocence and over the belief that God would protect me from the heart break I was experiencing, and He certainly didn’t. In fact he did the furthest thing from it, He allowed me to feel the pain - physically my heart ached. Before that I thought heart break was only a saying.
Seven months after my aunt died that same family buried my grandfather and my grandmother’s brother (they died a day apart). A week before that my other grandmother passed away. These deaths were sandwiched around Christmas. Two of the three people had drawn out illnesses – and the other had attempted suicide a month before dying of a heart attack. I was also grieving the loss of a couple of very close relationships during this process – which I think died off because of this process.
During these months a transformation took place. First in a seemingly negative way (I remember at one point I said the words ‘pissed off’ to one of my friends on the phone about something else and she was stunned – I was changing). Then after a while I really started to re-examine myself, my life and my perspective. I became aware of my humanity and of how fast life passes us by, and how we do in fact get to choose how we live out this gift.
Did I want to live it out with passion or with fear and trepidation? I did not want to live life in a bubble any longer, scared of ever little challenge and fearful of all of the ‘what if’s’ out there. I began to realize how much control I had over some things and how little control I had over others. I then decided I would do my best not to let life’s heart breaks stunt my growth, if anything I’d allow them to challenge me to go forward. I decided that no matter what I was given in life I would do my darnedest to make something better out of it.
Though I am far from perfect at living this out and most often I feel as though I stumble more than I succeed (just read my last post), I can honestly say that I am doing my best to pursue a life that allows itself to get shaken … not just stirred.
Tuesday, July 14, 2009
A few light and funnies
So I thought I would just write out a few conversations I shared this week with different people I met along the way.
The following statements were made within the past week by the one young gentleman I support:
“Eva, you look stunning today.”
“Why is your nose always red?”
“Your thighs are large” (Apparently this is quite the compliment since this fellow has a serious thigh fetish).
“You have a beard and a mustache, they’re blond.”
“So you don’t like to be touched eh? That’s too bad for your husband.” (This was stated after I told him not to touch me (he's rather affectionate), that it wasn’t appropriate and I didn’t like it.)
One day he was shooting hoops with his basketball in the driveway, only some of the shots turned into him whipping the ball and narrowly missing the neighbours’ brand new car. I asked him to tell me next time so I could ‘spot’ the car. He was very annoyed and said “Why are you so worried all of the time?!”
I asked him how he got to be so good at basketball and he replied in all seriousness: “The talent is just in me, like my dance moves.”
“Eva, Justin (another staff) thinks you have a funny personality.” (So I’m wondering, if it’s funny ha ha or funny odd). This guy wanted to clear up any uncertainty I had by his statement and said “He doesn’t think your hot, he just thinks your funny. He said that you are hilarious.”
Man on the elevator ...
I met a man on the elevator today that did not seem to act as though he lived here (perhaps his mother did, though he was old enough he could’ve as well). We conversed about the slowness of the elevator and stuff.
He finally looked at me and asked “Do you live here?”
I said “Yup”
To which he replied “Oh. You don’t seem to fit the age demographic for people that live here.”
I responded with “Oh really? How’d you guess that?”
He chuckled in disbelief.
Flowers ...
Today Wally brought me home a bouquet of flowers, the first in a very long time. I was touched and happily surprised. Later on I asked him where he went to buy them (since he wasn’t any later coming home). He didn’t say. I told him that I liked them very much , he smiled shyly and said “Well you told me once that carnations were one of your favourite and when I saw these I figured you would like them.”
I tried to stifle a giggle then replied “Carnations aren’t one of my favourite. Gerber Daisies are and I don’t mind a rose by itself, but carnations aren’t really one of my favourite.”
Then ensued another great debate that left me wondering WHO the person is that likes carnations so much. I love my Wally and I think he still loves me.
The following statements were made within the past week by the one young gentleman I support:
“Eva, you look stunning today.”
“Why is your nose always red?”
“Your thighs are large” (Apparently this is quite the compliment since this fellow has a serious thigh fetish).
“You have a beard and a mustache, they’re blond.”
“So you don’t like to be touched eh? That’s too bad for your husband.” (This was stated after I told him not to touch me (he's rather affectionate), that it wasn’t appropriate and I didn’t like it.)
One day he was shooting hoops with his basketball in the driveway, only some of the shots turned into him whipping the ball and narrowly missing the neighbours’ brand new car. I asked him to tell me next time so I could ‘spot’ the car. He was very annoyed and said “Why are you so worried all of the time?!”
I asked him how he got to be so good at basketball and he replied in all seriousness: “The talent is just in me, like my dance moves.”
“Eva, Justin (another staff) thinks you have a funny personality.” (So I’m wondering, if it’s funny ha ha or funny odd). This guy wanted to clear up any uncertainty I had by his statement and said “He doesn’t think your hot, he just thinks your funny. He said that you are hilarious.”
Man on the elevator ...
I met a man on the elevator today that did not seem to act as though he lived here (perhaps his mother did, though he was old enough he could’ve as well). We conversed about the slowness of the elevator and stuff.
He finally looked at me and asked “Do you live here?”
I said “Yup”
To which he replied “Oh. You don’t seem to fit the age demographic for people that live here.”
I responded with “Oh really? How’d you guess that?”
He chuckled in disbelief.
Flowers ...
Today Wally brought me home a bouquet of flowers, the first in a very long time. I was touched and happily surprised. Later on I asked him where he went to buy them (since he wasn’t any later coming home). He didn’t say. I told him that I liked them very much , he smiled shyly and said “Well you told me once that carnations were one of your favourite and when I saw these I figured you would like them.”
I tried to stifle a giggle then replied “Carnations aren’t one of my favourite. Gerber Daisies are and I don’t mind a rose by itself, but carnations aren’t really one of my favourite.”
Then ensued another great debate that left me wondering WHO the person is that likes carnations so much. I love my Wally and I think he still loves me.
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