I need to write...

I cannot believe it's been more than a month since my last post. It's not like life has stood still in the last 32 days - quite the opposite in fact. I simply haven't had anything I felt worth sharing - or that wasn't redundant.

I visited the motherland on the 18th for my sister's roommate's birthday, then headed to Austin for her best friend's birthday. We ended up at Pete's Piano Bar - which is always big fun.

The following weekend was spent catching up and visiting with the kiddos. It had been nearly a month since I had seen them all! Which is crazy hard to believe since we live so close. Everyone is so busy though - basketball, cheer and soon to add softball and t-ball to the mix. Whew, I'm worn out thinking about it! But I also love it. I'm especially excited to watch first-year t-ball again. There's nothing like it!

The next weekend was my birthday. I shipped the parents off to Hawaii and spent a lot of time doing laundry and watching trash tv. I treated myself to a massage, but other than that, it was just another Saturday. I used to love my birthday. I would start counting down in January. Now, they are just sad.

But if my birthday was depressed, last weekend was just the Prozac to fix it. It was Woo Girls Spring Fling 2011. We laughed, ate, shopped, laughed, drank a little, talked, ate and laughed some more. It was absolutely fabulous. I'm so grateful to my friend, Kristin, for hosting us in her lovely home. I'm also thankful to her husband for allowing us to invade while he and their daughter vacated. We certainly missed those who could not make it and I am very excited for our get-together scheduled for May.

Either perfect segue or a total non-sequitir...I've struggled a lot with not fitting in. I'm not sure if it comes simply from being a girl. Or from being a tall, big girl, but it's more common for me to feel outside the group than a part of it.

With my Woo Girls, this is so much less the case. Which is sort of odd since superficially, I have less in common with them than they with each other. They are all married. Most have a child (or children). Sure, we share a same high school, some of us share past experiences and more than one of us share a crazy love for shoes. But when we get together, we all just get each other. It's an amazing answered prayer.

By contrast though, I've felt a lot lately that I don't belong in a place where every one is supposed to be welcome. Where anyone can come and receive love and encouragement. I'm really struggling with the lack of all-inclusive fellowship opportunities. It could be my own sensitivities/insecurities, but we have not had an all member fellowship since Thanksgiving. February was dedicated to couples and so far March has been all about families. And I don't qualify for those. My initial reaction was a little angry and bitter. But as I sat last night waiting for a quick meeting to start, I was shocked to find a tear rolling down my cheek. I had not realized how hurt I was to not be included. It was an almost surreal feeling.

Hopefully all of that will get better in the coming months. Maybe my circumstances will change or maybe I will.

Tomorrow...

"If I speak in the tongues of men or angels, but do not have love, I am only a resounding gong or clanging cymbal. If I have the gift of prophecy and can fathom all mysteries and all knowledge, and if I have a faith that can move mountains, but do not have love, I am nothing. If I give all I possess to the poor and give over my body to hardship that I may boast, but do not have love, I gain nothing."

I've been having trouble sleeping, which I'm sure is a phase. The other night I posted on FB something about needing an on/off switch for my mind. But the thoughts are fueled by my lonely heart - so it's more accurate to say I need to switch it off. If I could quit feeling, this loveless life wouldn't hurt so damn bad.

Bloom Where You are Planted?

I’ve heard this saying a million times in my life – mostly from people on the outskirts of my world and not in reference to me. I’m not sure where it originated or why necessarily. I’m sure you’ve heard it before too.

Having a teeny bit of gardening knowledge, the saying itself sort of cracks me up. Not every seed is going to bloom where it’s plopped in earth. If you planted a cactus in Seattle, it would not flourish any more than a water lily in the deserts of Arizona.

I do not have the greenest of thumbs, but it’s not totally killer black either. I do well with most house plants – ivies, ferns and even a ficus has thrived in my care. I managed to not kill an African Violet for two years.

Every year, I plant an Amaryllis before Christmas knowing in 6-8 weeks I’ll be rewarded with a statuesque base for a gorgeous bursting bloom (in red – I usually get red). This year was no exception. I enjoy the process of rehydrating the dirt that comes in the kit, nestling the bulb just so and watering it as needed. With these fast growing plants, each watering brings a reward of progress. The leaves grow – you can see the base of the bloom – all things that let you know you are taking good care of this flower.

Normally that is. This year, my Amaryllis seems to be defective. I have three tall, healthy leaves – one at about 2 feet in length. But I have no sign of a bloom.

As someone who tends to look for signs, specifically those related to reasons to hope, this does not forecast well. I keep watering, feeding and whispering sweet nothings hoping for a turn around. I hope this is not a metaphor. All leaves and no flower.

I Prefer O's...

Dear Kashi,

I am a 31 year (10 months and 8 days, but who's counting?) old, single, female. As a result of that single status, I'm working on making health improvements that will also (hopefully) make me more attractive to a potential mate.

With 2011 resolutions in hand, I purchsed several of your products in the last 12ish days. One of these products include the Honey Toasted oat cereal in the convenient "to go" cups. I opened the container this morning expecting a healthier, grown-up version of honey-nut cheerios. Imagine my bewilderment to see heart shaped oat puffs mixed in. Perhaps I should have expected such with the "heart to heart" on the box. And while I'm sure your crafty food stylists/marketers did this to reiterate the "heart-healthiness" of your cereal, I am not a fan.

For one, there are more than enough heart shaped marketing ploys in the world. Watch any jewelry commercial from mid-November through December and from late January to February and one is OVERloaded with hearts. Add to that the "last-minute" aisle at your local drug store and any Hallmark location and it's impossible to avoid them. The last place I need a heart is in my cereal. Second, I'm choosing to eat a grown-up cereal - the addition of the heart-shaped puffed oat does not make it more fun. Sugar would (seriously, a little extra sweetness would be appreciated), but I know the ramifications go against my purpose. I appreciate your efforts, but I would prefer plain O's, please.

Now, before you write me off as another bitter single woman, let me add a final note. While I've never walked the aisle, I have married friends and have watched enough Sex and the City/Divorce Court/other trash tv I shouldn't own up to having viewed, to step out on a limb and say that married women would likely prefer just the O's too.

Sincerely,
Me

Good News

A little more than two years ago, my dad was involved in a fatality shooting. I initially blogged about it here.

As it was an officer-involved shooting (especially since it resulted in a death), the Texas Rangers (in their pre-Walker/Chuck Norris days - another day another post there though!) were commissioned to investigate. Evidence including guns, bullets, etc. were sent to the local crime lab. They were then transferred to DPS lab for evaluation. Almost 26 months ago.

Time passed without an update. My dad worked using his "back-up" gun as the pistol involved was in possesion of the lab. I thought about it less each day, but a piece of me stayed worried about what would happen next. In any crime/shooting/incident with evidence, the evidence and reports are presented to a grand jury to either true-bill (indict - carry forward into trial) or no-bill (dismiss completely). Additionally, the family of the victim has two years to file a civil suit for wrongful death.

The one year mark came and went without any new information. The two year mark came and went without any new informaiton - but with some relief knowing that there could/would not be a civil suit.

Once the two year mark came, our local newspaper (which is a small weekly paper) contacted my dad for an update on the case. When he reported that he had no new information, no report and no gun, the editor was irked. He called the DA's office, the Rangers, the crime labs and their Director. Each week he would report his findings. Amazingly, the completed ballistics/lab report was in the DA's hands within 3 weeks of the editor's first call.

The information was presented to the grand jury yesterday and they returned a no-bill. My dad gets his gun back on Monday.

It's finally over.

Praise God for good news!

Wordless Weds. - Niagara Falls, Canada

Milestones...

Nine years ago today, I walked across the stage to receive my diploma. Only, of course I did not receive my diploma. I received a pleather folder with a paper notifying me of when I could expect to receive my actual degree in the mail.

I walked across that stage, praying I would not trip, feeling full of the future's promise and possibility. I smiled and shook my dean's hand, posed for the gratuitous pictures (that never turns out good enough to buy) and made my way back to my seat. Where I sat for the next two hours struggling with whether to break the rules and leave or do as I was told and sit through the remaining ceremony. Obviously, I followed the rules. No surprises there.

I just knew as I walked out of Johnson Coliseum that this great big world was waiting for me to make a difference. Graduating was the first of several milestones I expected in the next few years. I was going to get a fabulous job, meet a fantastic man, have a dream wedding, buy a house and raise our kids & dog in a family friendly town. We'd be members in a local church, volunteer our time in various ways and live the white picket dream.

I can check "fabulous job" and "church member" off the list. Maybe in the next 9 years, I can check another one or two off.

A girl can dream, right?