Adoration

Speaking of things that hit you sideways, Campbell got married a few months ago.  We'd been good friends for a few years, and then early last year he kind of fell off the planet.  He was there for me when my engagement broke up, and I was there for him when the same thing happened to him.  I always felt safe with him, safe and appreciated, so it was hard when I realized we were never going to get married.  I still wonder why, but I got some clarity talking to his cousin this past spring.  The conversation started out awkwardly but eased up as we went along; she was concerned about how I was taking the news of his engagement and I felt I could trust her, so I told her it had been a little difficult.  She said that she and her husband had wondered why Campbell had never dated me; apparently, he talked about me all the time.  In her words, he adored me.  Why, then, didn't he choose me? 

 

My silent, agonizing question was answered as his cousin went on about his fiancee:  she needed to be rescued.  Campbell's fiancee had been married before, to an abusive and manipulative man, and she needed to be rescued from that trauma.  One thing I know for sure about Campbell is that he would NEVER hurt a woman.  He is incredibly protective--protective to the point of doing violence to another person.  When he found out more details about what my ex-fiance had done, he told me that he was willing to break my ex's nose if he started bothering me again.  Another time, we were talking and when another man walked past and gave me a leer that I didn't notice, Campbell put his arm around me and glared at the guy until he stopped looking at me.  I'm not the biggest fan of violence, but it is nice to feel protected when you're with someone.

 

Campbell needs to be the hero, and Mrs. Campbell needed a hero.  I'm glad she found such a good one.  I don't need anyone to rescue me from a bad situation anymore (although it would be nice if someone out there had an extra $200K to give us), but I really want to be adored by someone.  Adored enough that he wants to be with me and no one else.  Thanks to Campbell, at least I know I'm worthy of that kind of love, loyalty, and respect.

Please Wear Clothes

I recently finished a project that involved some evening and weekend meetings.  Overall, it was a very positive experience--I got to meet some new people and get reacquainted with others (including my old friend Ken...more about him later)--but one thing really drove me up the wall.  There was one younger woman who came to nearly every meeting in her workout clothes.  I'm not talking sweats and a t-shirt, but full on workout gear:  sports bra, tank top, leggings (more like tights to be worn under something else).  When we started our meetings, she'd take her shoes off, pile her hair on top of her head, and stretch or do push-ups or something every time we had a break.  If her clothing and behavior were appropriate for the situation, or the situation were appropriate for her clothing and behavior, I wouldn't have had a problem with it.  As it was, though, neither was appropriate for the other, and she became a major annoyance to me.

There are only so many times I can handle an attention-seeker saying something like "look how I can touch the floor" while bending over so her leggings/tights stretch and I can very clearly tell she is wearing plaid underwear.  I almost took a picture with my phone and texted it to her so she could see what was happening whenever she moved.  I'm not sure why I didn't.  Maybe to protect what dignity she had left.

I make it a point to be dressed when I leave my house.  I only wear workout clothes in public when I'm actually working out.  I try to look nice even though I don't always wear makeup or jewelry.  I almost always wear my shoes unless I'm very comfortable with the people in my group.  I make VERY sure that my clothes don't show my underwear when I bend over or reach overhead, and I don't buy leggings unless they're opaque or I intend to only wear them under skirts or dresses for warmth.  (I can't quite get behind the recent leggings-as-pants phenomenon, mostly because so many leggings are actually footless tights and don't quite cover what people think they cover.)  I don't understand people who think workout gear is appropriate for every situation--I hardly even take the garbage to the curb in my pajamas, and my neighbors probably wouldn't even care if I did.  I care, though, so I avoid it.

While not technically immodest--it's not as though she was wearing a low-cut thong leotard over tights--this woman's clothing was immodest for the situation.  Her behavior was a worse offender.  There is a time and place to show off, and there is a time and place to loll around on floors, and there is a time and place to go barefoot.  There is rarely a time and place to throw yourself at anything with a Y chromosome, just for attention and validation.

At one of our final meetings, she'd just come from work and looked very nice.  I almost said, "you sure are attractive when you're dressed," but refrained.  It was a relief to find out a few weeks ago that the relationship I feared she was trying to start with Ken hasn't panned out the way she thought it might.  Her immodest ways didn't keep his attention for long, which was nice to know.

It gives me hope that, by not showing everything, I still have a chance to attract a good man.

"Sorry, fairy tale lovers, but true love is something reserved, by and large, for virgins. True love is for the chaste. True love is for married couples, we who do the work and take the oath of marriage, and devote our lives. You cannot get what we have without doing what we do, no matter what your toothpaste commercial philosophy might say."

Something to think about.

Is common courtesy dead?

I think common courtesy is dead, or, at least, very ill and possibly terminal.

I don't understand why it's so difficult for some people to respond to emails just to them asking direct questions (but respond to the silly emails about the latest updates about Angry Birds).

I don't understand why it's so difficult for some people to make plans with people they supposedly care about, or even respond to invitations at all.

I don't understand why it's so difficult for some people to not leave other people hanging.

I don't understand why instead of answering the question "Where is the stuff I left with you when I moved away from The Homeland?", some people will not only not respond, but actually defriend you from Facebook.

I don't understand why it's so difficult for some people to say "I'm sorry" when they have to bail on plans you've made together.

Now, I'm not perfect, but I at least try and do these things. It's just polite.

I Can't Say

Once again, I'm at a loss for words on this blogging as a single girl thing. I haven't had many adventures lately, or at least I haven't had any adventures I can write about without compromising my anonymity, so this is hard.

Frankly, I have more angst about my job lately than I do about being single. Go figure.

This is one of those weeks when I feel like I have too much on my plate and don't feel like doing the things I need to do. I've had a couple of events pop up suddenly that have put a wrench in my free time (which, lately, is housework time) and things have gotten behind. Earlier today I realized that an event I'd mostly been looking forward to is now an event I don't want to think about. It's tonight, though, and it's for church, and I have hit a point of overwhelm so aggravating that the thought of dressing up, going anywhere, and being social is making me anxious. I'd much rather stay home and do laundry, sweep, vacuum, and sing along with my MP3 player.

The weird part of the anxiety and overwhelm is that I'm more naturally extraverted than Roxie and Jinxie, but there are days (weeks?) where I just can't bring myself to face society and I need to not do anything that involves anyone else. Today happens to be, unexpectedly, one of those days. See what I mean about wrenches?

I don't really feel like fielding any questions about work, or hobbies, or dating, or my family. I don't really feel like putting on mascara just to wash it off two hours later. I don't really feel like putting on nylons and heels and sitting at a table with people with whom I have little in common.

This is one of those days I'm feeling a little bit the burden of being single with no kids to talk about. It would be easier to do Relief Society things, I sometimes think, if it was easier to find common ground with the sisters in my ward.

Let's be adults about this, part two.

To elaborate on my recent short post about my expectations for someone over the age of 25, I have written a very long post. :) To begin with, I understand that extenuating circumstances happen sometimes (I’m living in some of those now so I DO know that life isn’t always how you planned it) but there are certain things that should be a priority at a certain point. Who was it who said “when I became a man I put away childish things”? It’s fine to want to play, but there should come a day in life when you make a decision between play and work, between child and adult, and between wants and needs.

I am privileged to know some wildly creative people who have degrees in wildly creative fields. I have a liberal arts degree myself, and I fully know that it’s pretty impractical to have an actual career in my field of study, as well-rounded and well-read as I am. In order to do anything related to my field, I would have to have a graduate degree and teach on a university level. That hasn’t happened for me (time and money always get in the way, right?), but I’ve been fortunate enough to have a lot of job experience under my belt and a quick mind that makes connections and solves problems. To be succinct, I can get a job doing just about anything, and it doesn’t necessarily have to involve my undergraduate study. I’m ok with that. I got a degree in a field I love and am very passionate about, and I had resigned myself to not getting a job in that field before I matriculated into the major. I wasn’t disappointed when I got hired where I’m working now. It’s a job. It pays the bills. It gives me enough extra money to indulge in some more or less impractical hobbies that will probably never pay for themselves. (I want to buy a spinning wheel, for instance, but I know that I will probably never make a profit selling anything I spin.)

Wanting to do creative things isn’t the problem—the problem happens when you become unqualified for every “real” job (a job with insurance and steady hours, for instance; something I am afraid to be without) because you’ve spent too much time focusing on creative pursuits. Not everyone with a creative writing degree is actually going to end up on the New York Times Bestsellers list. Not everyone with a music degree is going to be the next Irving Berlin, let alone Mozart. Not everyone with an acting degree is going to be the next Ian McKellan. I know a lot of people who are completely unprepared for the world outside their field of study and it makes me sad. If you’ve worked hard at your degree and are good at what you do inside the microcosm of your college, that’s great. Reality can hit pretty hard, however, and otherwise good and kind and spiritual men get overlooked by women because they don’t have a car and live in the suburbs in a house with four other men. This is problematic for obvious reasons.

I have little patience for people who can’t adjust to life outside college. Maybe this is because it took me so long to get my degree and I put myself through school working at jobs I didn’t always love. I don’t love my job now, but it’s what I have and I’m glad for it. I know my ideal job is out there, and I also know that I can’t hold my breath waiting for it to happen. I have to make money. I have responsibilities and obligations that can’t wait for Perfect Job With Awesome Salary to fall into my lap. I’m not saying you should compromise on a dream—I’m saying that between now and when the dream actually comes true, you should be able to pay your bills without selling your furniture. You should be able to provide your own transportation and not rely on the worn-thin kindness of your friends. You should theoretically be able to support a family, whether you’re a man or a woman. You should also be able to function with other adults in an adult world, whether or not you are married or have children.

Some examples (some details have been changed for the sake of anonymity): A guy I went to high school with was blessed with an amazing singing voice. He studied opera and was invited to audition for the Metropolitan Opera Company when he was still in college. He showed definite promise and pursued that career for a few years, wife and subsequent children in tow. At one point, he looked around at the life he was living and realized that it wasn’t the best or most stable life for his family and decided to go to dental school. You could say he gave up, but you could also say that he gave it a good shot, realized that it wasn’t quite what he wanted or what was the best for his family, and changed goals. As far as I know, he’s a successful dentist and still sings.

Another man married a wonderful woman, started a family, and moved to California to pursue an acting career. He did a few films, got a few other credits under his belt, and his family grew to four children. A few years ago he and his wife decided that he would go back to school for a graduate degree in a field that he was also good at, but that would actually be more stable and lucrative for the family. They’re currently in the Midwest while he finishes his Ph.D. Acting will likely always be one of his loves, but if it doesn’t pay the bills, it has to come second.

Jinxie is lucky, I think. She’s working in a field she liked at the first and has grown to love since. She’s shown a real aptitude for it and is constantly looking for new opportunities. She had to move across the country to find it, she had to take a risk and step WAY out of her comfort zone. She had to be an adult.

Roxie? Same thing. She took a risk and ran with it, and she’s very happy and excited about her field of study.

Women like us, who have made peace with the idea that we can’t have everything we want and don’t get to be everything we wanted to be when we were children, deserve, I think, men who have made equally mature decisions. I really want to marry someone who is musically talented, but I’m not going to insist on marrying/dating a famous composer or musician. I’d rather be married to/date someone who works hard, develops and increases his talents, has decided to stop playing LARP/MMORPG games for eight hours a day, has a steady income (whether it’s from waiting tables or business management), and owns his own car.