Boo for Alone

I know, I know. It's been EONS since I wrote. Practically a decade. You have been neglected, my cyber friend, and you deserve an explanation. Here's why I haven't been writing:

-I didn't have anything to say

-I got a new job and moved three states away and lived in a hotel for a week and then doubted my decision and almost had a nervous breakdown but then after much prayer and a lack of other feasible options decided to stay and hope the job works out. Then I had to find an apartment and start the new job and move in with the help of my awesome family and now I'm about to start my third week of the job and I have several hours of free time in a row for the first time since I left Ohio.

The second reason might be more significant than the first. After all, I don't really have all that much to say now, either, but since I had some time, I thought I'd write anyway.

Even before I moved to take this job, I was worried about being lonely. I hate being lonely, which is a shame cause I'm real good at it. I do it well, and I'm fast. I can get lonely in, ummm, maybe 2 hours. Pretty good, right?

But as I said, I don't like to be lonely. I know that, when they are trying (unsuccessfully) to be helpful, sometimes people tell me, "You can be lonely when you're with people, too." And this is true. But it has been my experience that I'm lonely a LOT more when I'm NOT with people than when I AM with people.

It's been nice that since I've been here I've had visitors three times, and I've gone to visit friends once. But tonight, as my sister drove away from my apartment, I realized something.

Visitors are great. I mean, really awesome. But the bad part about visitors is that they leave. No matter how long they can stay, or how much fun you have with them, they have to leave. And then I'm back to my previous state of aloneness.

I don't want my normal state to be alone. I'm tired of alone. I want people. For better or for worse, I want people. To say hi to. To recap my day with. To share funny student stories with. To eat with. To divide chores with. To watch movies with. To make plans with. I want to share life with people. Life is better shared, don't you think?

Boo for alone.

WARNING: This is an Ugly Truth post. It may be TMI for you.

Chocolate

It’s a little like chocolate. Everyone likes chocolate. Well, nearly everyone and when you come across someone who doesn’t, you think either they’ve had a bad experience with chocolate or they’re just plain weird. Everyone likes chocolate, but not everyone can have it.

If you’re a single Christian, God says no chocolate for you. Yet. Your chocolate might be coming in the future. Or maybe you just don’t get any. At least, you don’t get any unless you choose to break the rules. You can always choose to steal someone else’s chocolate, or pay for it, even, but that’s no good. That’s against the rules. There are pretty significant consequences.

Christians take the chocolate rules seriously. There are some rules we ignore. Or kinda conveniently don’t really understand fully. But not the chocolate rules. We’ve got those down. No chocolate until you’re married. No exceptions. You can’t buy it, steal it, trade for it. Nothin. Sorry about your luck.

Now the good news is that there’s this verse in 1^st Corinthians (7:7) that says that your chocolate-free existence has its good points. It’s really a gift. You can focus all your time and energy on serving God! Yay! I mean, we’re all pro-serving-God, right? So if you’re single, of course you should feel REALLY excited about this perk. Now I don’t want to be sacrilegious here, really. But if God said to you, “Hey kid, you can choose from two gifts: the gift of chocolate or the gift of no chocolate,” which one do you think YOU’D pick? Let’s be honest. We all want the gift of chocolate.

But what we want doesn’t seem to factor in much. No matter that you really, really, REALLY want some chocolate. No matter that most of the people you know have unlimited access to their own chocolate. It’s not important that the media shows you lots and lots of chocolate all the time. You can see it and hear it. Smell it. Lots of luscious chocolateyness. It’s everywhere. Tempting you and reminding you that you don’t get chocolate, or any of the benefits that come after the chocolate. You can’t have it. Not yet. Maybe not ever.

Sometimes people who have their own chocolate try to help. They say things like, “Don’t worry. Your chocolate will come when you’re not looking for it.” Or “But you’re so lucky to be chocolate-free! Think how independent you are! You can do whatever you want!” Or my personal favorite, “God has a plan. You just have to wait for his timing.” The problem is that these oh-so-helpful people are usually munching on their own chocolate, or at least licking the vestiges off their fingers while they strive to console you. Really? No. If you have your own chocolate, good, bad, or otherwise, you don’t get to pat me on the head and tell me it’s ok that I don’t have any. You don’t have that right. Go away and eat your own chocolate and leave me in peace.

Because you know what? Those things? They aren’t necessarily true. No one knows if I’ll ever get my own chocolate. Well, except God, and he seems to be pretty tight-lipped about it. YOU don’t know. Neither do I. So stop lecturing me with your chocolate-flavored breath. You may mean well, but you’re not helping.

Anyway, there isn’t really any conclusion to this rant about the lack of chocolate in my life. I just wanted to vent a little bit. Cause I’ve never had chocolate. Not even one bite. I know that this wasn’t an accident. I believe that God’s got a plan for me. I don’t know if his plan will involve any chocolate in the future, but I sure hope so. In the meantime, I’m suffering from an acute chocolate craving, and it makes me cranky sometimes. You have been fairly warned. Now go away and enjoy your own chocolate. Just don’t tell me about it. J

Suave. That's me. Yo. Soy. Suave.

I'm house-sitting right now, for some friends from church. They're off cruising in Alaska, which means I am luxuriating at their house. They have central air and cable tv. I am quite easily pleased.

Anyway, the REASON I'm house sitting is so that I can watch their dogs. I've been here for a few days, and this morning I decided to go for a jog at the track, which is within walking distance from the house. So I got all ready and decided to use the garage code instead of the house key, so that I didn't have to carry the key while I jogged. Cognizant my not-so-awesome short-term memory skills, I even wrote the combination on my hand. Just in case.

I said goodbye to the puppies (who were NOT excited about me leaving) and headed over to the track. I walked a mile and then jogged a mile. When I was sufficiently sweaty, I headed back to the house. As I came to the house, a pang of anxiety struck me. There's a door between the garage and the house. I locked it last night. Did I unlock it before I left?

I did not.

Using my cleverly recorded code, I opened the garage door, only to discover that I was still locked out of the house itself.

Dangit.

As I stood outside the door, sweating and listening to the dogs barking wildly inside I thought through my options.

-Maybe another door was open? But I didn't think so. I'm pretty careful about locking up, since I'm staying here alone.

-Maybe there's a key hidden somewhere? Yes, but where? I would check the doors, and then look for a key.

-Maybe a window was unlocked? Unlikely, since the AC means they don't usually have the windows open. But still worth checking.

-Outside help. I don't have a phone. I could walk to the neighbors' and see if they have a spare key, but when she came over before she used the garage code. Even if I had my phone, it's unlikely that my friends would be keen on trotting back from ALASKA.

I left the garage and headed around to the back door. No luck.

["How lucky that I'm so security-focused," I thought sarcastically to myself.]

I continued around the other side of the house, intending to check the front door again, though I KNEW it was locked, since that's the one I usually use. On the way, though, I noticed that one of the windows into a back bedroom wasn't locked. I went in for a closer inspection.

There was a screen. How much does it cost to replace a screen? I gently tried to push it up.

IT MOVED! It slid up to the first little notch, and then locked. But it was enough space to get my hands in there, push in those little lock-things, and get the screen all the way up.

Now for the window. I could see that the lock in the middle of the window wasn't latched, but these windows had those little levers on the inside of the frame, about two inches from the bottom of the frame. You have to push them down to release the window. Obviously, I couldn't release it from outside.

I tapped around the outside of the window frame, hoping to loosen anything that might be stuck and remembering similar experiences with various girls from the Roosevelt House. [ahh, memories!!] There wasn't a good place to push, so finally I just push out and up on the sides of the frame, and LO AND BEHOLD, the window moved up!! Whee!! I pushed it as far as I could get it; it wasn't far enough to get through, but WAS far enough that I thought with something to stand on, I could open enough to climb in.

About this time I started wondering if anyone was watching my attempted break-in. Oh well. Maybe if the cops showed up they could help.

Back I went to the garage to find something to stand on. My choices were an old, vinyl-covered chair or a plastic 5 gallon bucket with some bird seed in it. The chair seemed less likely to tip over, but more likely to collapse under my weight. I grab the bucket and return to my window.

I climb up on the bucket, realizing that it's REALLY unsteady. I tell myself that when I put one leg into the window, I will need to move the other foot to the middle of the bucket or it's going to dump me.

I manage to get the window open enough and evaluate where I need to step. I put one foot and leg into the window. As I'm grasping about for good places to hold on in preparation to pull myself in, the bucket tips over, leaving me dangling halfway out of the window, about a foot off the ground.

Some flailing ensues. I grab wildly, scraping some skin off in places that will go unmentioned, and finally manage to haul the other half of my body into the house.

I pause for a minute, breathing heavily, and take stock. The dogs are going CRAZY outside the bedroom door. I don't think I broke anything. I check outside the window; it doesn't APPEAR as though anyone had witnessed that delightful scene. I do not hear police sirens. Yet.

But I'M IN!!

So. What'd YOU do this morning?

Settled

It is Wednesday evening. 6:23pm, and I am writing from the over-chilled dining room of the Ada, Ohio McDonald's Restaurant. I just finished my chicken nugget Happy Meal. Missed the mayo that is served with fries in Ecuador. Actually, I missed the combo of mixing the mayo and ketchup. McDonald's was one of the few places that served "real" ketchup there. Most places had this runny, pink-ish liquid that maybe had a tomato waved over it before packaging. It was gross. Far worse than no ketchup at all. But I digress.

Let's get back to the IMPORTANT part of the blog. I'm not really sure what that is, but you people keep harassing me to write, so here I am. Writing. :) Hmmmm....

Well, I've been back in Ohio for 2 1/2 weeks now. Today my awesome friend, Kristy, asked if I missed Quito yet. I answered her without hesitation. Nope. Not even a little bit. Not because I didn't (or don't) like Quito. Actually, I expect to start missing it around the time that other Quito-people are returning for the 2011/2012 school year. But for now, I'm too busy rolling around in a big, juicy vat of Ohio-wonderfulness to miss Ecuador yet.

I'm enjoying family, friends, driving (though not buying gas [eek!]), peaches, books on CD, Red Box movie rentals, coupons and sales, only working a couple hours a day, reuniting with Ohio-friends, watching NCIS on Tuesday nights, lightning bugs, the Ohio accent, strangers smiling at me, NOT being the largest/tallest person in sight at any given time, understanding EVERYTHING that is said to me, knowing how to say ALMOST everything I want to say, jogging [I know. But it's true], my new space-girl tennis shoes, not being on constant crime-alert, the smell of the country, and sun sets [not many sun-rises, though...]

One day, as summer wanders off and fall takes its place, I'll doubtless miss the majesty of the Andes, the cheap-n-yummy strawberries and avocados, the excitement of a new school year, getting my classroom ready, post-summer reunions with AAI people, the mental challenge of communicating in Spanish, the convenience of a cab to a busy part of the city [when it works like it should], the fun of the Latin culture on a Good Ecuador Day, the consistently moderate weather, and my Quito-friends. But not yet. Well, not yet for everything except the Quito-friends. I started missing them back in May.

Another season change. EVERYTHING about my life is in flux right now. From a new cell phone to a new job (which I am hopeful will be coming soon) to a new community and even a new place to fill my prescriptions. Lots of new. New-overload, if you will.

I feel like I'm in the eye of the hurricane. I survived the first part of the storm- leaving Quito.

It. Was. Hard.

By far my hardest "leave" yet. And now I'm in the calm before the second wave hits. Right now things are pretty easy. But I can tell that I'm still emotionally braced for what's coming. I'm having stress dreams. When my brain goes into autopilot, the stress rises to the surface. The questions pop back up above the water level:

-Where am I going to work? Will I like my job? What will my coworkers be like? Will I dread Mondays, or not? Will I get to stay there for awhile?

-Where will I live? How long until I build up my community there?

-What church will I end up in? How long until I feel like I belong there?

-What...?

-When....?

-What if....?

-How long until I feel SETTLED again?

That's the biggest question. Settled.

Settled is a good thing. Settled means you know who you are in your environment. You also know who you aren't. It means you have a routine, and even a routine for breaking the routine. You know who you can call for a spur-of-the-moment outing. You know the best routes to work. You know where to buy your milk. You smile and wave at your neighbors. People greet you by name at church and work and maybe even the neighborhood convenience store or gas station.

If you've lived in the same place for awhile, you've probably reached settled, and you might not even realize it. But remove the settled from your life? And you are aware if it immediately. You might seem ok. You might even feel ok, most of the time. But unsettled works in the subconscious. It pops up in your dreams. Reminding you that you're in transition. Your mind isn't at rest when your body is. It's working on the questions that float around. Being settled puts those questions to rest. It lets your dreams go back to the normal weirdness of being back in high school, but with the people from your current job, or having tea with Sponge Bob or whatever your "normal" dreams are like.

And so, even as I relish life in the eye of the hurricane, my soul still waits in anticipation. Far better than the eye is that day...flitting about out there in the vast spaces of "Future". The day when I will again be settled.