Open Mic Night...Macon Style

So the other evening after work I stopped at a coffeehouse. Oddly I don't like this place's drinks, but I do love the chocolate cheesecake brownies; and it's a relaxing place to read and write. Well usually it is. I curled up in a corner of a velvet couch with my Bible, a notebook, and an ipod. There was a newspaper on the table in front of the sofa so that became a conversation starter for some not-cute-way-too-old guy. Since the Mr. Regular situation is still fresh in my mind I wasn't my usual friendly self, so I only removed my ear piece to say "You can have the whole paper; it's not mine" and then ignored whatever he said next. (Side note: Mr. Regular left a message with my secretary today; whatever.).

So another guy comes in, placing a guitar behind the couch, and takes residence next to me, trying to start a conversation despite the ipod and my obvious focus on writing. Are people that lonely and desperate for conversation? I imagine some people are and that's sad.

Then the coffeehouse staff starts moving all of the furniture, and it turns out that it's Open Mic Night. I never would have guessed that there were such events in Macon simply because there just doesn't seem to be many of the kind of people living here who would participate in such. At this point, I figure I should move to the other room of the coffeehouse, but it has now been closed off and is reserved...for two old couples who are dancing. Weird.

So as soon as the mic is set up, a guy in his late teens/early 20s comes in and throws his backpack down and hops on the stool. Then he pulls a PDA out of one of his many velcro pockets and proceeds to read a super sappy poem from his PDA, pausing every few words to scroll down. It was hilarious. He finishes the poem and grabs his backpack, clearly planning to read his poem and leave without so much as listening to anyone else or buying a coffee. The guitar guy then engages him in conversation, and the young guy decides to read another poem from his PDA. The he leaves.

So the guitar guy plays a really long and loud song complete with some moaning. By his second ten minutes song, he was so loud that my ipod's volume was threatening to blow out my ear drums. So I gave up and headed home. Despite the less than stellar performances, I'm glad that Macon has a few surprises up its sleeves.

And I can't believe it's already Wednesday:)

p.s. Lately I've been thinking it'd be nice to have an annonymous blog like greenline boy does. I'm generally very open, but lately I've found myself struggling with something I can't blast over the blogosphere. Oh well, it's probably a good exercise in restraint for me.

Timelines....

I'm halfheartedly watching the stupid show called The Bachelor, and Lisa's timeline and dedication to it reminded me of an issue that has come up a good bit lately. A woman I met recently told me about she was having a hard time because her siblings were married and one of her good friends had recently entered into a relationship. Another person told me about how bittersweet weddings are for her because she isn't married. A law school friend showed me her china patterns even though she wasn't dating anyone and lamented that she would never meet the One (she was 25 at the time).

Even though I'm from a town where the average age for a first marriage is probably 19, I always thought I'd be 30 when I got married. And both of my sisters have been married for years and have children, but their marriages, if anything, have made me glad to be single (in part because marriage is such hard work). I realize that I have the rest of my life to be married, but I can't ever be single again once I'm married. Plus I am grateful for the experience of being an aunt as a single person as I'm sure it's completely different than it would be if I already had children or even a husband; meaning that I've been able to devote so much more time and energy to that relationship than I would have been able to otherwise. Don't get me wrong though--there have definitely been times (when I was in a relationship) that I thought being married would be great fun and longed for it, but when I'm not in relationships I generally appreciate all of the freedom that comes with singleness--like the girl time this last weekend in the mountains or deciding tonight to go to the Auburn game this weekend.

But I wonder if my tune will change if I'm still single in six years. I hope not, but it definitely seems like so many people who are older and have never been married can't find as much joy in their friends and family members' romantic relationships, engagements, and marriages as others. With that being said, I'm not slamming those people who have that bittersweet feeling at every wedding (and are crying for a reason altogether different than joy). It's hard when your plan doesn't match up with God's plan for your life. And people can ask the most ridiculous questions--for example, a secretary at work once told me that I was smart and pretty, so "why are you still single?" I told her I had herpes, and she shut up really quickly. Ok, just kidding about the herpes. But I definitely felt like giving an asinine answer to her thoughtless query. The best was when I was about 22 and someone asked me when I was going to have a baby. Seriously.

Weekend before last my sister and I were discussing this issue, and evidently someone had recently asked her why I still wasn't married. My sister thinks I'm waaaaaaaaaay too picky. For example, my friend Ozzy recently wanted to set me up with his friend. Trying to get a feel for the guy beyond Ozzy's desciption of "nice," I (randomly) asked how many times a month the guy got drunk. Ozzy responded that "He's kind of like Nick Lachey on Newlyweds. He's always drinking a beer, but he never really gets drunk. He drinks every day but never more than 5 or 6." Great. I told him that I had zero interest in dating anyone who drank every single day; someone smelling like beer on a daily basis is very unattractive to me. My sister considered that as being way too picky. She asked me what I was looking for in a potential husband, and upon hearing my list, she promptly told me that I was never going to get married. Oh well, so be it if asking for a Christian (and not just on Sundays:), attractive (not objectively hot just attractive to me), non-daily drinking or smoking, intellectual, fit, and fun guy is too much to ask for....

On an unrelated note, here's some pics from my recent venture to the fair. Much to my guy friends' consternation, most of these girls are very happily married. Check out my John Deer belt buckle.

Things for Which I'm Happy...

Henry David Thoreau: He wrote one of my favorite books—Walden. I've loved that book since I first read it in seventh grade. This quote was definitely gave me peace when I was 12 and felt so different than my peers (who seemed soooo immature): "If a man does not keep pace with his companions, perhaps it is because he hears a different drummer. Let him step to the music which he hears, however measured or far away." And one of his most quoted quotes: "If one advances confidently in the direction of his dreams, and endeavors to live the life which he has imagined, he will meet with a success unexpected in common hours." I love his reminder that "The mass of men lead lives of quiet desperation. What is called resignation is confirmed desperation."

"Hands Down": This song by Dashboard Confessionals always make me smile.

"Hanging by a Moment" is the song that convinced me to buy the Lifehouse CD, and I've been a big fan ever since. There other songs are fantastic too, and I think most of them are about being a Christian; although I don't think they are marketed that way.

"Here I Go Again": Remember the supermodel on the hood of the car? Gotta love Whitesnake.

"Hey Jealousy" (Gin Blossoms) and "Hold On" (Wilson Phillips): I've probably listened to these songs 1000 times.

"Honey & the Moon" (Joseph Arthur): There's just something really sweet about this song; it kept me company during travels last year.

Heaven, hope, hot chocolate (with whip cream and made with milk), Hungry Hungry Hippo, He-Man ("By the power of Grey Skull, I have the power!!!"), hamburgers (from the grill with cheese and ketchup), hands, handsome men (although there are too few), hotdogs (burnt on the grill), happy hours, Harry's in a Hurry, hostels (that's how I afforded to stay in Europe an extra two weeks), the humanities

Harvard University: My family never traveled, except for work related trips for my step-father. When I was 13 he had to attend a week-long workshop at Harvard, so we FINALLY got to go somewhere besides Florida and Jekyll Island. I absolutely loved Boston and Cambridge and had my first taste of exploring a cool new place, which became a real love for travel.

Honesty: I love really honest and candid people, and I strive to be that kind of person. Today I did something really honest; and it wasn't easy but I'm glad I did it.

Daiquiris....

When I was in middle school my siblings and I received rewards for good grades. I was so weird that I once told my mother that they didn't need to pay me to make good grades because I made the grades for myself. So as a reward for "As" my mom and step-father would take us out to eat at Red Lobster at the end of each grading period. It's funny how that food was really good to me back then. The last time I ate at Red Lobster (per my father's request for Father's Day a year ago), I swore I'd never do it again. Side note: You can get those yummy garlic cheese rolls to go without enduring the rest of the frozen food.

On these special occasions and on vacation, we were allowed to order strawberry daiquiris. That was pretty exciting. As I looked older, I had to start clarifying that I wanted a "virgin" daiquiri, which I found a little embarassing. Saying the word made me blush. So yesterday as I was surfing around the blogosphere, I ran across something that reminded me of those days. I wish I remembered what blog it was from so I could post the link, but after so many clicks, I have no idea how I found the blog. Anyway, the female writer was recounting her sister's antics at a restaurant one night. The writer and her other siblings ordered Shirley Temples and whatnot. The waitress asked for her sister's drink request, and she blurted out that she "wants a daiquiri that's had sex." The children's mother, of course, wanted to crawl under the table.

p.s. I looked at the television listings, and it shows episodes of Grey's Anatomy at both 9:00 and 10:00. Just a heads up!

A Mock Intruder Drill....

will be taking place at the elementary school (K-5) where my mother is a counselor and my niece is a first grader tomorrow. I am really put off by this idea and kind of shocked by it. Of course, the rash of school shootings has also been quite appalling, and I understand a community's desire to "do" something about it.

Evidently a police officer will play the role of "intruder" and hold a teacher hostage. There will be EMS workers and police officers at the school as well. I hate the idea of five year olds having to think about the possibility of someone invading the school during story time. I'm just not sure what the utility of installing this fear and awareness is since I don't see how students practicing for an attack can really help. I guess it's good for teachers to know what the emergency plan is, but in reality, I'm not sure how much good training can do when someone is already in a school with a gun and wants to hurt others (and doesn't even mind risking his own life). I guess I think the best line of attack is keeping people out of the school, and I've personally entered this particular school on two occasions and never been stopped or asked to identify myself.

The high school is having an intruder drill as well, but the intruder will actually have a gun with blanks and be firing it. While that seems extreme to me, I'm not quite as put off by that notion. I guess I just hate little children, who are incapable of fully understanding this kind of drill, having their innocence stolen for what seems like no good reason to me.

On a positive note, no word from Mr. Regular, but then again, I was out of the office most of the day. I got to drive a total of four hours to file a piece of paper....I LOVE "work" like that--it's like being a very well-compensated truck driver or something.

Some things never change...

So my ten year class reunion was this weekend, and it was…fine. I just don't have strong feelings about it one way or another, although I certainly appreciate the two women who took the time to plan it. It was in a room at the Elks Lodge with barbecue and coleslaw and cookies from Kroger. They had even hired a DJ to play really awful music at a blaring level. We were all screaming across our BBQ sandwiches in attempts to catch up.

The class president asked me several times if I thought people were going to dance. Since the reunion began at 6:00 and it was still daylight outside (and no one was drunk), I told her that I seriously doubted it. Plus the music included Will Smith, Lynrd Skynrd, and various depressing country artists. I'm guessing that was the DJ's idea of what was popular in 1996.

Several couples came in and sat alone at tables away from everyone else. I have no idea what the point of coming to a class reunion is if you do that since you could talk to your spouse at home but to each his own. Most people came in groups or with a spouse, but it never even occurred to me to do that. I enjoyed hearing a detective's job stories, but most of the other conversations were the basics--marital status, location, and job. And just like old times, three guys came in two hours late and drunk. I hung out with them in high school, and after spending a few minutes chatting with them, it was clear that little had changed. The scary part is that two of them are high school teachers/coaches.

My high school had a nursery for students' babies, so of course, children were a big focus of the reunion--with classmates' children in a slide show; the problem was I didn't know which baby belonged to which classmate. Various awards were given out, but the most notable one was a surprise. Three of my female classmates were called up to the little stage. They received the award for having the most children and were given bags of condoms. Hmm.

While it was neat to hear about what everyone was doing, I was anxious to get back to my nieces (who could not understand why they couldn't go with me to this "party"), so I left at 9:00. They're a lot more fun than any reunion.

p.s. Having this girl on The Bachelor who doesn't speak English is ridiculous.

Quick Update on Mr. Regular

So my office phone rang on Friday, and guess who? Mr. Regular had to tell me that he was from the pizza place because I didn't know who he was when he just said "This is Mr. Regular." I think I even asked if he was a client or insurance adjuster or something.

Once that was cleared up, he asked if I had tried to eat at the Soup Kitchen. I thought that was a kind of stalkerish question, so I replied with an annoyed "no," while pulling up my blog to review what I was suppose to say. I hadn't written it down on a sticky note yet because I didn't anticipate his call until next week since I'd told him how busy was I was at work. Not sure why I expected Mr. Regular to wait a few days or abide by other social customs though. I guess hope springs eternal.

"Well I'm just calling to wish you a happy weekend," explains Mr. Regular.

"Thanks. I hope you have a good weekend and rest of the day. Bye."

Despite our 90 second exchange that didn't include any invitations, my heart rate rose and my face flooded with color. I don't know why things like this affect me that way--particularly given that I've given speeches in front of hundreds of people without feeling that wound up. Oh well, after the very short way in which I responded to Mr. Regular I'm hoping he won't bother me again. While hope springs eternal, I'm betting he will.

p.s. Thanks for all of your suggestions.

When Will I "Get Good" at this Stuff?

And by stuff, I mean rejecting men that I have absolutely no interest in whatsover without having to think about it.

Yesterday was a really stressful day at work, so I cancelled my lunch plans and opted to grab pizza at "the Soup Kitchen" while I revised a release agreement. Mr. Regular was there, and we exchanged hellos. Mr. Regular must eat at the Soup Kitchen a lot because I eat there on average twice a week, and he's almost always there when I stop by. A few weeks ago he introduced himself and a coworker to me since we see each other so frequently. They work at the same hospital a few of my friends work at, so we chatted briefly about that. Like I've said, I like the familiarity and community feeling in Macon, so it's nice that people are so friendly. I didn't think anything of the introduction, assuming Mr. Regular was married with a couple of kids (I'm not good about looking for wedding bands though). Since then we've smiled and said hello, but that's it. Note: Mr. Regular is a little shorter than me, overweight, and appears to be my father's age (55), although it's possible that he a little younger.

As I walked back to the office I was deep in thought and actually walking and revising at the same time when Mr. Regular crosses the street, speaking to me as he does so. I thought it was odd since Mr. Regular was coming from the opposite direction of both the hospital and the Soup Kitchen; he had apparently taken a stroll around the block near my office.

"Hey, we should grab lunch tomorrow."

"What?" I reply.

"Let's grab lunch tomorrow."

"Um I already have plans," I respond.

"We can go to Tokyo Alley," he says.

"Um, well I don't eat there, and I already have plans."

"Well, it'll be on me though," he replies.

"Well I don't care if it's free or not, I don't eat at Tokyo Alley. It smells bad [like a nursing home]." I say, feeling irritated and wondering what in the world is going on. Seriously. At first thought, I figured he just thought since we each ate lunch together today, we could eat together sometime. While I love to eat lunch alone and often intentionally do so (by sneaking out before someone can ask me to join them), I realize some people don't enjoy solitude. At this point, I'm really taken off guard. I have a million work things swimming through my head and am shocked that Mr. Regular, a virtual stranger, and I are having this ridiculous conversation.

"Well how about another day?" he asks.

"Well I'm slammed this week, sorry." I reply.

"Oh, well we can do it another time. How can I get in touch with you?"

Argh. "I don't have any of my cards with me, sorry."

Mr. Regular pulls out his cell phone to add my number to it. Not knowing what to say, I give him my office phone number (where we don't even have caller id).

I am so stupid, but I had no idea what to say. I was so taken off guard by the whole thing that I just gave it to him. Yuck. Then he tells me that he'll give me a call.

This whole thing makes me angry because now it's going to be weird at the Soup Kitchen (it's tiny) b/c of this, so I guess I'll just lunch later. This may sound terrible, but what is this man thinking? He's several decades older than me, not in good shape, and clearly trying to run into me on the street so he can ask me out. Anyway, who cares what he thinks, but what should I say when he calls?

I have such a hard time with stuff like this that I have to write it down and keep it by the phone to keep from just giving in and going out. My best thought so far is:

"You really caught me off guard the other day when you asked for my number. I don't usually give my number to people that I don't know, and while I appreciate the lunch offer, I've got a lot on my plate right now and will have to pass."

Any better (or different) ideas? This is the kind of stuff that makes me want to quit being friendly!

Things I'm Grateful for.....

God

grenadine: Not only is it delicious, but it (along with the poor quality of all Coke products in Costa Rica) helped me make the switch to Diet Coke.

Goobers: I still can't believe my father ever paid for us to go to the movies AND that he bought popcorn and candy. Well not just any candy that we wanted--just Goobers. And he would pour them in the popcorn, so I never knew whether I'd get a regular handful or an ooey-gooey melting chocolate handful.

the gym: Macon finally got a real, normal gym where each piece of cardio equipment has its own television. I've been waiting on this for years, and it's only a half mile from where I live.

Gifts: The best gifts are the ones that make you absolutely sure the giver knows you. And really knows you. A guy I went out with two or three times and subsequently became friends with is the best gift-giver I've ever witnessed. He has brought so many smiles to my face with his random gifts that remind me that he "gets" me in some special way. I got a postcard from him this week (from southern France), letting me know that the French don't have a translation for "billable hour," should I want to relocate.

Guacamole, Girls Just Want to Have Fun (I've watched it at least 15 times), Goo-Goo Dolls, The Griswolds (funny stuff), Lewis Grizzard (funny columnist), John Grisham (I love A Time to Kill), Gone with the Wind, green (this color has only recently grown on me, but I now like it), gmail, ginger (I love Origins ginger stuff, and my mother recently found something at Walmart that is as good), Grease, Gin Blossoms, Grey's Anatomy, Ghiradelli chocolate (one of the few places I had time to visit while in San Fransico for an afternoon)

Greg: The best guy friend two girls could have. My best friend and I spent tons of time with him during our year at UGA, and he patiently hung our shelves, listened to our drama, and generally amused us--and never hit on us no matter how drunk we were. He also didn't get mad at me when I got his car keys out of his jacket pocket, stole his car (yes, I was that drunk), and left him downtown with a rather unattractive girl. The next morning I knew he would be furious, but he didn't even care. He also watched countless hours of Silk Stalkings with me, which no one else would do. In short, he's a super friend, and I love how we pick right up whenever we see each other or talk.

Greats: Two people who have had a tremendous impact on my life are greats--both great-aunts.

It's late, and I'm probably leaving out a ton of stuff; but this is a good start....

First Kisses

I'll give you three guesses as to what prompted me to think about this topic.

I love the feeling (excitement, tension, and awkwardness combined) in the air before the first kiss. Usually I know it's coming. On my third date with B.E. I knew he wanted to kiss me. It was after all our third date, and we were having fun. Because I'm mean like that, I subtly thwarted each of his efforts by turning my head, starting a new conversation, or the like. Of course, I finally quit, but it was fun to mess with him.

But my most recent first kiss wasn't exciting at all, and even though I wasn't really looking forward to it (I was tired and not incredibly interested), I went along with it in hopes that the kiss might make me like him more. And although he was techically a good kisser, it didn't.

If I were a guy, I think I'd have to go on at least four dates and see a lot of enthusiasm before I'd muster the courage to kiss someone. Unless drinking is involved in which case I'd try on the first date. But I don't think I'd be the guy that would ask first--that just kind of ruins the moment, but I guess that's better than kissing someone who doesn't want to be kissed. A head turn would be so embarassing.

One of my friends, lets call her Grace, has been dating a guy since last spring. And they still haven't kissed. Yes, I know that seems crazy (they really aren't), but there's something that is slightly appealing about that to me. Imagine a relationship in which you're not totally overcome with thoughts of what you want to do with each other physically but instead talking and really getting to know each other. I guess I call that friendship. Hmm. Well anyway, it's been fun to watch their very intentional relationship and the gradual steps that they've taken in getting to know each other. For example, hand holding was a big deal to them. I think that's kind of cool, and it's refreshing in comparison to everything not being a big deal in our culture. It's like reclaiming excitement. I hate the lack of passion my generation seems to have when it comes to sex. Anyway I could write several posts on that topic--maybe another day.