Golden Hearts

Last week I found out I'm a finalist for the RWA (R) Golden Heart (R) Contest for unpublished writers.  (I don't know how to make the little symbol with the R in the middle. Sorry.)

For me this was a huge honor.  For the cats it was rather traumatic. Poor Buckles was sitting right behind me when I let out a victory screech. It took them a while to confirm I'd regained my sanity before they'd come back over.

Anyway, this will look great on my writing resume and I was so excited for that. Little did I know...

Almost immediately my inbox experienced an inundation of email unlike anything since the great flood, if the flood had been electronic instead of wet.  It turns out the finalists are a super fun group of women who want to be my friends!

Writing is a solitary activity, unless you count the people in your head, which my therapist says I can't. So, it means so much to have friends and peers who get the process, who understand the reward of typing The End, who share dreams of being on a book shelf, who get rabid insecurity, and who want to jabber sometimes to people who will answer back. And now, I have a whole bunch more friends to add to my circle! We've known each other via email for less than a week, but already bonds are forming and we're planning to keep in touch long term, to encourage and help each other find success, and to celebrate when we do.

Now, I can't talk about writing friends without mentioning CritGroup13, including Jodie, Christina, and Donna. We've been sharing life and writing for what...six years now? And they probably know me better than almost anyone in the world. Even though we've only gotten to hang out all together once. Once! (If I were going to indulge my corny side, I would say they truly have the Golden Hearts (R). But I won't. And they do.)

So, today I'm grateful for email, that makes long distance friendships so much easier. For friends who stay friends no matter how long its been, and who immediately go into fun-goofy mode the minute you get together again. For fellow writers who share my passion for story, for those moments, however rare, when we can all be together and get a little crazy. For this finalist opportunity, and for all the friends I didn't know came along with it!

The Little Airplane vs. The Big Nor'Easter

This is the BEFORE picture. Note the happy, unsuspecting
smiles of two friends/ who don't anticipate a potential
death match over a vomit bag.

Perspective is crazy. Not just in the I-can-pinch-your-head-when-you-stand-far-away way, but how your definition of what is good, or what will make you happy can change based on experience.

Last fall I got on a flight to North Carolina for a writer-girls weekend (shout out to Jodie, Christina and Skype-Donna!)

During the layover in Washington-Dulles where I met up with Christina (yay!) we were told our flight was 20 minutes late. Boo. But then that moved and then it moved again. So after a while we were going to get in late, but I was just hoping to get in soon. Then, we go up in the air in a cigarette with wings and fly through a Nor'easter.

Do not get in a plane and fly through a Nor'easter. It was like driving on a rumble strip through the mountains with portions of the road blown out. My new definition of happy very quickly became to land without having puked. I had my little sick bag ready and I was eyeballing Christina's, ready to kype it as needed.

About an hour after the "we're landing soon so put up your tray tables" announcement, we started flying up instead of down.  Not good. The pilot said cross winds were high, but we'd try again.

So. We go lower and lower, and I breathe harder and harder thinking non-puky thoughts, and we're so low I could literally reach out my window and pick a weed off the Tarmac...and then we sore up into the windy heights again. Me and my stomach were yelling "Nooooooo!"

Pilot man lost his nerve, which in retrospect, I'm okay with. I'd rather have a pilot be cautious than end up sliding down an inflatable slide while firemen spray foam at the plane. But at the time, I didn't feel that way. Again, perspective.

So, now I'm praying harder than I've prayed since the last time I got pulled over, and deep breathing, and also trying to figure out what we'll do if the pilot makes good on his threat/promise to take us to Dulles instead, if our third attempt isn't successful. I'll be happy if we can just land here. At all.

We fly lower, and lower, and I pray harder, and harder, and continue to think non-puky thoughts, and then....BAM. We hit the runway. Hard.

This is what waited at the other end. This
and lots of chocolate and laughs. Yes, it was totally
worth it.

And you know what? We applauded. I applauded. Because at that point, the only thing I wanted in the world was to be on the ground, and I was! And as a bonus all my dinner was still inside me!

All this is to say, I want to be grateful for the little things, without a Nor'easter in the mix. So today, I'm grateful for pretty weather, and windows that open, and cats that didn't wake me up early. For sweatshirts and yoga pants, for breakfast. I'm grateful for my laptop and that the battery lasts a long time, for auto back-up so I don't have to live in partial panic that I'll lose EVERYTHING some day by accident. I'm grateful for toilet paper, and indoor plumbing, for warm water, and clean clothes. For eyeliner! For clean water, for coffee, and for fun mugs. For beaches, and friends, and even experiences that make me remember how much I have to be thankful for.

You Are My Sunshine

One might wonder why, for a post about sunny days, I would choose a picture of red peppers.

If one has ever been badly sunburned, one knows exactly why. Because just like those peppers, you're red, and burning, and pointy....okay, not pointy. That was just to see if y'all are paying attention.

But for real, yesterday the fine state of Colorado reached the mid-70's for the first time this year. And, to celebrate, I cleared my schedule and spent the day outside reading and editing.

The whole day.

The funny thing is, I only spent a few hours of that time in direct sunlight because my favorite reading spot in the backyard is nice and shady in the afternoons. But, those few hours were long enough to get a sunburn. Oh, it's not a red, burning, pointy sunburn, just a pinkish warm-to-the-touch one that will fade rather quickly.

But you know what? I'm cool with it. (Lame pun unintentional) For the next few days I won't be able to forget the lovely time I spent outside.

I'm as anti skin cancer as the next person, but this mild rosiness wouldn't be possible without that beautiful weather.  And if the price for being able to loll in my papasan chair with a glass of wine and a favorite book is a baby sunburn, well then welcome baby sunburn.

I'm thankful for sunny days and spring, and sunscreen--which incidentally, I did put on my face--and the smart people who figured out how to make it not feel greasy. For favorite books, wine, time to put my feet up and enjoy the sunshine, and yeah, even a little sunburn now and then.

Book-Lust

My library is nice, but not quite this nice.
picture by imelenchon onmorguefile.com

This is me resurrecting my poor blog. It didn't die, its just been cryogenically preserved for...a while.

But for a number of reasons it's now been reawakened and I will have to think of things I'm grateful for at least three times a week. In part, because I am adopting, and in this time of waiting for a placement, I want to keep myself focused on things I do have.

I've never been a budgeter. As long as the income is exceeding the expenses, I didn't worry about it. I admit it. And if I had been, the book allowance would likely remain unregulated because I love them and I feel like they're a good investment. Hey, I reread some of them!

But, alas, since adoption isn't free, I'm now saving extra-hard, so my book budget went from astronomical to just above nil. It was a painful choice. I window shop on amazon and lust after new releases the way Carrie Bradshaw looked at shoes.

When I took my little pity-party public on Facebook, so many people were quick to remind me about the library. I've used it before, I use it often for audio books when I'm traveling for work. But for whatever reason I've never gotten into using it for actual books. I think it goes back to the limitless budget for buying my own copies.

So, after some amazon-lusting I went to the online library system to see if they had the new releases I wanted. One, they didn't. Boo. But one they did! Yay!  So now I'm happily ensconced in a new novel. It turns out the library copies are just as enjoyable as personal copies, as long as you don't dog-ear the corners. So, I'm grateful for libraries, fresh stories, a society that still recognizes the importance of written art, and artists who labor to make them. I'm also grateful for all those books I managed to accumulate before my self-imposed embargo. My pretties!

Stuff Church People Say to Singles, Part 5.

I think its natural to assume everyone is in the same place in life as we are. So sometimes in conversation I'm asked about my spouse/kids and I say I'm not married.

Church People Say: Oh.... (Generally accompanied by wide panic-eyes and a smile/grimace... a smimace.)

Translation: Wow. I'm super uncomfortable right now for making you admit that you're single. And also, I kind of want to ask if you're a lesbian, but I'm not sure how.

Consider: I think this gets to the crux of it. You shouldn't be embarrassed for me when I tell you I'm single. I'm not embarrassed for me. In fact, in a lot of ways I'm proud of myself. I've signed a mortgage, moved, changed a garbage disposal, bought a lawn mower and assembled it and used it, negotiated salaries, pursued my dream, travelled, and all while looking stylish...well, most of the time.

I'm not saying I enjoy taking the trash out all the time. I don't. And bill paying, bleh. But when I'm done with my two-minute pity party, it feels good to know I can do this. I'm strong enough. And not in the diva way where I just snap a Z and plow over everything in the path of my stilettos. But in the way that even when I'm slogging and its hard and I just want to not be in charge for a while...I still make it.

Here's the thing. When I tell you I'm not married, you can just say "Oh, okay," and then ask me about my hobbies, how long I've been in town, where I'm from, do I have family nearby, my pets (adorbs!), my job, etc.

And you can tell me about your kids and your spouse and your hobbies and your pets too. I'm not going to be hurt or shamed because you're married and have procreated. I am pro-whale even though I don't have one. And I am pro-family even though I don't have one.

I'm glad you have a husband and maybe kids as well. I'm not jealous.  And I wouldn't take any of it from you if I could. Remember, I'm happy with life too. And even if marriage isn't in the longterm plans for me, still don't feel bad for me. I don't (most of the time.)

The National Center for Family and Marriage Research at Bowling Green University found that the marriage rate for women dropped 60% between 1960 and 2012 to a mere 31 women per thousand. Even when you account for young'uns, that is a lot of singles. And that's just women (and yes, you can be single over 25 and hetero.) If the church has any desire to reach the community around it, the number of singles it interacts with is only going to rise. And I promise, when we're the majority we'll still look at you and see a normal person.

In sum, marital state doesn't define me. Or you. You and I have a whole lot in common, only I have to take the trash out all the time. And if you make a slip and say something I've mentioned this week, don't panic. It's certainly not the first time I've heard it, nor will it be the last. I guess I just want people to think about the assumptions made about the unwed.

So get to know us! We're fun! And you may find that lifelong friend you've been hoping for!

Stuff Church People Say to Singles, Part 4

I just love this froggy in hats. So I brought it back.

I heard a woman in her 60's say this to a woman in her '40's who had survived and escaped an abusive first marriage and was lonely for companionship. Yes, for real. And I'd wager every single has heard it at one point or another.

Church People Say: God's trying to teach you something, and when you're ready, he'll bring Jack/Jill.

Translation: This is basically your fault because every married person is better at relationships than you are.

Consider: I have lived in many places around the country, and the typical age people wed varies. Does this mean that entire regions North of the Mason-Dixon are relationally behind? And that those teen brides in Podunk are vastly ahead in the partnership game?

I have mentioned this earlier this week, but it bears repeating because it is a big deal. Single does not equal spiritual dunce.

And yet almost every church, if they have a singles group at all, holds a midweek service roughly three hours long that combines lots and lots of repetitive music and a reminder not to have sex. Why is it that we think singles need an extra service each week? Why not just do something fun, or meet at Starbucks just to chat?

The ultimate problem is that we forget we're all meant to be one body, and the segregation common in most churches doesn't help. Believe it or not, singles have more going on in life than not having sex.

 The early church didn't have separate small groups for single ladies, single guys, marrieds with young children, marrieds with old children, marrieds with no children, and marrieds who act like children. They were one body.

Face it, single or not, people today deal with self worth issues, jealousy, anger, childhood events, lust, lostness, and more. And I think we miss out on a lot of wisdom, camaraderie, and potentially vital friendships when we make the  people over 57 years-old meet separate from parents of babies born in January.

During my stint in Arkansas (Wooo Pig Sooie!) I made some amazing friends that I will keep always. They consist of a fifteen year-old, a (I won't say her age) spiritual mentor who has more energy than I do, and three married gals, all with young kids. I know, crazy, right? I can't imagine those years without these friends, and I would hate to miss out on more kindred spirits because I have to attend the people-with-highlighted-hair group, and they're tucked away in the people-who-write-left-handed group. It's one thing to have interest or topical groups, but another entirely when folks are told who they can "do life" with, as the fad saying goes, and you can only do life with people just. like. you.

I feel incredibly lucky to have found an extensive and varied group of friends who see it that way. Most of my friends these days are married, and are fabulous. We talk about their married joys and woes and my single joys and woes and all the other parts of life that aren't marital-status dependent. I think people are trending that way (or I just found all the good ones...hehehe) and that gives me hope.

We are supposed to be diverse, not divided. Thank God we are. It's not always easy, people just like us feel safer, and I get that. But it is sooooo worth it!

Now I have to go study for my people-who-like-sparkly-things group...

Stuff Church People Say to Singles, Part 3

My friend brought this up the other day. And when it's said it's usually meant as a compliment. The thing is, we singles have asked ourselves the same thing. A lot.

Church People Say: Why are you still single?

Translation: What is so wrong with you that nobody wants to marry you?

Consider: My sister and I have fun coming up with possible answers to this one.

Because of that big growth on my back.

My other personality is a Monk.

My alien, er, bits aren't compatible with human bits, so....

I'm a raging b*tch most of the time.

Black Widow Syndrome. You take a life or two and all of a sudden people lose interest. Whatever.

Chronic halitosis.

Oh, I am. He just doesn't know it. Sssssh. (Most effective with shifty eyes and a villainous laugh.)


The actual answer is this. It's God's will for my best life (though you sound like a prig if you say that in conversation.) If I was supposed to be married, I would be. But in modern church culture--okay, probably in church culture through the ages--marriage is a status symbol. It's like of all the commandments, the most important is "Go forth and multiply." And if you can't manage that, it says something about you. Something bad.

But being single isn't bad. Its just a state of being. In fact, I bet most single people could be married right now, if that were the goal. We've all met really awful people who wear a wedding band. We've seen, hmmm, lets say people we wouldn't personally be tempted to lust after who are happily married. We've also met that beautiful couple, the ones who never get jokes, tall ones, short ones, or my favorite: the tall/short combo, the spiritual geniuses, the people who snipe uncomfortably at each other in socially inappropriate settings, the outdoorsy couples, and the ones whose favorite vacation spot is their own backyard.

I've never met someone and had the fact that they're married make me like them or admire them more. I don't know that anyone has. It's always about the person. Getting married is a blessing, for sure. But it's not an achievement. By definition blessings are events  we can't take credit for.

I am so grateful for the cadre of awesome awesome awesome single friends I have.  Because I admit that when I'm feeling all insecure or when birthdays roll around, or when my hormones are all wonky every month, ahem, I do look in the mirror and wonder. And I have to give myself a talking to. My life is good. Really good. The only answer to the cause of my marital status is God. And that has to be enough.