At Some Point, You Have to Think It Might Be You

Ok, so it's been a very, very trying weekend. There are many stories to tell from the weekend, which I'll go into in a different posting, but the major one from the weekend is the news that my younger sister will soon be engaged. Now, this news came from left field for me. And after some hurt feelings, angry exchanges, and tearful conversations, it appears that she's been dating this guy, Mike, for some time now, and it's gotten to the serious stage. He'll be coming home with her for Easter to meet all of us, and plans to ask my parents' blessing for her hand in marriage. Shocked. I didn't even know they had been dating all that long, but apparently they have. And I just learned his last name today. Whoa. It's hard for me to be happy for her at this point because I don't even know this guy. I guess I'm supposed to be happy if she is, but I'm not there just yet. I can't get to that point for a few different reasons including not knowing who this guy is, being protective of her as an older sister, and if I'm going to be completely honest, then yes, some feelings of selfishness that she'll be getting married before me. She lives in Birmingham, AL, so I don't know the ins and outs of her life. I did know she was seeing this guy, but she's the type that has many "the ones" in her past, so I never take any of her boyfriends seriously. But, she informed us this weekend, that we should take this one as real, because she'll marry him whether or not we like him. And that they've already talked about it, that he won't ask her until he asks us, but that it's pretty much a done deal, regardless. So here I am. Before I am going to be happy, I'll throw a pity party for myself online, because I wouldn't dare do it to rain on her parade. After all, I do love her and do want her to be happy. It's just I never thought in a million years it'd be in this order. You know, older siblings get married and have a kid, then younger siblings get married. It's order. It's sequence. It's... not reality, apparently. Finally feeling able to forge on after getting over my past, and now I've been hit with this news. The news that's hard for me to hear because of the other thoughts that are screaming at me in my mind. The thoughts that I'll now be the only grandchild on my dad's side to not be married, yet one of the oldest. The thoughts that I'll now be one of 2 grandchildren on my mom's side not to be married, yet THE oldest. And the pitiful looks and stares that family members will give in my direction once they hear and celebrate this news of my sister, then realize my singleness. The girl that got skipped. The pats on the arm with a seemingly consoling statement of, "don't worry, Kara, there's one for you too" or "hang in there, yours will come." My mom and grandfather have already done both this weekend. And it just turns my stomach. As if my being single isn't already amplified 100 times with the news of my sister, I don't need others to point it out to me. Or to feel sorry for me. I can do that on my own as I'm doing now. But, I'd rather to feel sorry for myself in private than to have others feel sorry for me in public. So, after years of watching my other older cousins marry, fully expecting my turn shortly, I've just been passed over. And all just days before my 28th birthday. As if being single and getting closer to 30 isn't pressure enough.

I know some may think after reading this that I'm bitter, or super selfish to have these thoughts in the midst of my sister's happiness. And yes, I'm embarrassed that my initial reaction is this. Of course I want my reaction to be of shear joy. Of course I do because I love her so much. But this reaction of mine is raw and it's real, and if it's bitter and selfish, then I sincerly apologize to those that read this and are offended. But it's where I am at this point and time. And I'm expressing it here, rather than in life in order to shelter my inward disappointment for myself from her excitement over the impending future.

After getting the chance to warm up to this news, I'll probably come back and edit this posting because I'm not proud of it. But I needed an outlet for my initial thoughts because they were boiling over inside of my head.

The Wild and Risky Pair

Ok, so self-admittedly I'm not a super edgy, front cover of Vogue, invited to fashion week in Milan kind of girl. I consider myself more of a sophisticated classic look. More of a front cover (ok, maybe not front cover) of Ann Taylor or Talbots kind of style. Don't get me wrong, my style may not scream that I've been on the runway, but I don't look like a grandma either. I update my closet with the "in" style but by and large it's the more conservative approach. And I definitely leave the super trendy things to others. I can't go about changing out my closet every few months! However, I do own a pair of cheetah print slide high heels. I know. It's not that racy for most, but for me, it's one of the few things I own that pushes my boundaries. You may laugh at that, but it's true. And I love to wear them, even if only matched up with a pair of tan slacks and a black sweater. It makes me feel a bit more aggressive, a bit more flirty, and a bit more "cha-cha." So, I'm sure by the title of this post, that you think that it's named because of the cheetah print on these shoes. There my friend, you would be wrong. It's about these shoes, but not the cheetah print. These shoes are a death trap. I mean, they are a "wear at your own potential peril" pair of shoes! The soles are so slick, that you could slide on the concrete sidewalk if you're not careful. And don't even let me get started on the tile leading into my office building! It's a complete balancing act every time I walk in the door with these shoes on. At any given moment, I'll be walking along just fine and then one will slip a little right out from under me, and I feel like I'm on the high-wire 40ft up trying not to fall to my demise! I sometimes hold my breath and concentrate deeply on just trying to get to the elevator bank without slipping in these shoes. To date, the score is Kara 14, shoes 0. But I know my day is coming. I know the shoes are going to take me on a wild ride to the floor. And it'll probably be the day that we've got some sort of vendor or manager meeting with everyone standing in the lobby ready to witness my defeat. To top it all off, they've just decided to pull up the carpet and tile the entire downstairs area of the building, so I'm not safe anywhere except on my carpeted floor anymore. Who's idea was that? Probably some man who's never owned a pair of sassy cheetah high heels. One who's never known what it takes to forsake both life and limb in the interest of style. One who'll never know exactly how many steps it takes to get back to a carpeted area of the building and just how long he can hold his breath while concentrating to get there! Alas, these shoes are wild and risky, but not because of the print, but because of the adventure in wearing them. And I love them.

Stay with me

So I feel like writing tonight. What, I'm not sure, so just hold on for the ride. It's been a pretty status quo week this week. Flirted a little with a vendor on the West Coast that I'm working with, so that was fun. Too bad he lives across country because he sounds cute. Probably isn't though - the reality rarely holds up to the expectation. Ha! I went to have my hair cut and highlighted yesterday. I always love it when I get to have my hair done! Of course, your hair will never look like the stylist made it look ever again, but something about it just makes me feel good. It's a change from routine. A fresh look. A reinvented you. Puts a little more sass in your step, you know? Let's see, what else? Oh, I just got home from a friend's house watching Open Water. It was ok, but I was a little disappointed in the ending. I've got my dog in my lap as I type. He's ready for us to go to bed, cutting his pitiful eyes up at me every once in a while seemingly silently pleading with me, but as usual, I'm not quite ready. But I'm happy, and it's been a very long time since I've been able to say that without some hesitation or white lie behind it. I am happy. And it feels good. I have, however, been craving affection lately. I know everyone does. Did you know that the average person needs to have physical touch from another human being at least 12 times a day to keep healthy? Little tidbit I learned in one my many psychology classes. I thought that was interesting. I have the sniffles and the sneezing that started this week, maybe I need to increase my human touch dosage! It's a little tougher to meet all 12 every day when you live alone. But I enjoy living alone. I've learned a lot about myself over this past year. It's been the first time I've ever lived alone - no family, no roomates - and it's been fun. Ok, well, I've managed to consume a good half hour writing about nothing all that entertaining. But it's the moments that I live, and the experiences that are making up my life.

Forgiveness (swiped from a friend of a friend's blog)

This posting was written by a friend of a friend. I found it on her blog site (abide247.blogspot.com) and it spoke to me so much, I decided to post it on my site as well. Sara/Tiffany, I hope you don't mind!

Forgiveness
"Forgiveness is the key which unlocks the door of resentment and the handcuffs of hatred. It breaks the chains of bitterness and the shackles of selfishness. The forgiveness of Jesus not only takes away our sins, it makes them as if they had never been." Corrie Ten Boon

I have been thinking a lot about forgiveness. It has come up on several occasions and in many recent conversations. Why is it so difficult to forgive? Do we honestly think that holding a grudge is hurting the other person? I can't for the life of me understand why we refuse forgiveness. Do we think that we are that important?"Forgive us our trespasses," Jesus taught us to pray, "as we forgive those who trespass against us."

I was reading a sermon the other day with the message of forgiveness. The preacher described our attitude toward forgiveness as being scarce, yet desperately needed. He went on to say, "we bury the hatchet with people, but then we keep a road map of exactly where we buried it. We put our resentments in cold storage, but we're ready to let them thaw out again whenever we need them. We take grudges down to the lake to drown them, but we remember the location in the water so we can find them again. We take the cancelled note, tear it up and say, 'They don't owe us anything anymore,' but we hang onto the wastebasket." His point is that we talk about forgiveness because it is a nice idea, but we do not actually forgive. Is this how we want God to forgive us?

Forgiveness is a release of responsibility. When we give forgiveness we say to the other person, "I don't hold it against you." When we forgive someone, the relationship becomes more important than our rights. There may still be consequences associated with the person's behavior but it is not our job to punish him/her. Vengeance is never the right option. When we withhold forgiveness we are not trusting God. Or at least, we are not trusting in the right God. God is big enough to take care of the injustices in our lives. God is big enough to deal with those who are unkind and unloving. Our faith must be in a BIG God! There is nothing small about a God who commands us to look into the eyes of someone who has wronged us and utter the words, "I forgive you."

Forgiveness is necessary for healthy living. This past Christmas a friend of mine shared that her mother in law experiences many different aches and pains that the doctors simply can not explain. As my friend told about the woman's past failed marriage and bitterness towards her ex-husband, it became clear to me that her physical discomfort comes directly from her unwillingness to forgive. The seed of unforgiveness is a poison. Often we think that we are punishing the other person for wrongdoing. We hold a grudge, hoping to hurt that person. Ultimately we hurt ourselves and cause pain to those who love us.

Forgiveness is also necessary for community. We don't practice much confession within our churches today. The greatest tragedy of this is that we do not experience forgiveness as we should. The church, of all places, must be a place to find forgiveness. Forgiveness brings healing. Healing brings hope. We all need hope.
posted by Sarah @ 1:16 PM

Let it Rain

It's been raining off and on (more on than off) all day today. A rainy Sunday. It's ok, I've enjoyed it. Relaxing for the better part of the day, I had an urge to go out this afternoon to look around some stores. I didn't buy anything except yogurt and dog food from the grocery store, but I liked being out. It's not too cold, but it's cool, and the rain isn't hard, but it's steady. It's peaceful, and I really don't mind it. If I were at my parents' house, I'd like to sit out on the screened in porch with a blanket and just listen. Maybe read a little, but really just listen. I like the sound of rain when it hits the leaves, and the sound of the creek at the bottom of their yard, robust with the additional water and picking up speed so it can be heard from the porch. I like the little bit of chill that lingers in the air. It's just enough to give you goose bumps, but not enough to make you shiver. I know I'll sleep well tonight, falling asleep to the soothing sound, snuggled under the comforter. It's actually a night I look forward to getting in the bed.

My eye's getting better and I'll probably be able to wear my contacts again by Tuesday or Wednesday at the latest. I'm glad for that, although I've gotten a lot of compliments on the way my glasses look on me. I might have to try to incorporate them into my look every once in a while - you know - for that sexy executive look. Ha! I ended up not going to Hunstville this weekend because my friend came down with the flu. It's just as well. She'll be coming into town mid-March anyway, so I'll see her then. And of course, working for a corporation that's a major retail establishment, I won't get tomorrow's President's Day off like the rest of the working world. Company policy is that if our stores are open, our corporate office is, too. At least traffic will be lighter tomorrow, and a lot of our executive management will be out of the office in Dallas this week, so I should get a pretty good parking space in the parking garage. That's the bright side. Is it sad that lighter traffic and a good parking space are the bright side to the corporate rat race? You have to find the silver lining somewhere!

The Picture of the Puzzle

FINALLY, a much needed CD of pictures arrived today in the mail. The next to last piece of the puzzle I've been trying to finish for the past 11 months. I'll probably never get the last piece as it only lies within another, but I'm content with the knowledge that this is as buttoned up as is in MY power, and it's done. I finally truly feel a sense of liberation, relief, completion, fulfillment, and empowerment to put it to bed forever.

This posting probably won't make sense to very many of you, but it's the most important posting for me that I have done to date.

"How do you wait for Heaven? And who has that much time? And how do you keep your feet on the ground when you know you were born to fly?" -- Sara Evans

It's time for take-off and I'm ready.

Pitching Hitch

For those that haven't seen Hitch yet, do. My friend and I went tonight and laughed and laughed! It's a great movie! Will Smith and Kevin James will absolutely crack you up! I'm not a big movie buff by any means, but I will be adding this movie to my non-existent DVD collection when it comes out! Gotta start somewhere, and this is it! Wish there were a real life Hitch!

Pack it In.

I’m such a procrastinator. I think I procrastinate so I’ll have more time to get things done. Well, it’s how I rationalize it, anyway. It’s a thrill – a challenge – and I do it often. A vicious circle of putting it off, getting mad at myself for a gigantic “to do” list, and then feeling a sense of accomplishment once I’ve check everything off in a race against the clock and usually making it in record time. So this is coming up because I’m leaving for Huntsville, AL after work tomorrow to visit my college roommate and good friend. I’ve known about my trip for a few weeks now. And I’ve pushed everything that I need to get done into a few hours tonight and squeezed into those few precious hours right after work and before I need to hit the road. And what time is it now? Midnight. And have I even started packing? Nope. Laundry’s in the wash though, so I can use that as one excuse. (Although I could have done it any night this week, yet saved it for tonight) I took my cat and dog over to my parent’s to watch for the weekend and grabbed a free meal while watching The Apprentice over there. (Still, more procrastination) And then I had to go back to work around 10:30pm because I had a sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach when I realized I had forgotten to hand in my report that I’d been working on all day to my VP who needs it first thing in the morning. (Blatant forgetfulness - or was it a subconscious effort to procrastinate even still?) So, after I actually finish packing tonight, pay some bills, and get in the bed, I’ll attend and all-day off-site meeting tomorrow, then I’m off to get my oil changed, get a car wash, buy her a birthday gift, a housewarming gift, and wrap them both along with her belated Christmas gift, stop for gas, go by the bank, and finally be on my way. It all starts right after I finish writing this blog, and I start packing – it in.

The Invitation

It doesn’t interest me what you do for a living. I want to know what you ache for, and if you dare to dream of meeting your heart’s longing.
I doesn’t interest me how old you are. I want to know if you will risk looking like a fool for love, for your dreams, for the adventure of being alive.
It doesn’t interest me what planets are squaring your moon. I want to know if you have touched the center of your own sorrow, if you have been opened by life’s betrayals or have become shriveled and closed from fear of further pain. I want to know if you can sit with pain, mine or your own, without moving to hide it or fade it or fix it.
I want to know if you can be with joy, mine or your own, if you can dance with wildness and let the ecstasy fill you to the tips of your fingers and toes without cautioning us to be careful, to be realistic, to remember the limitations of being human.
It doesn’t interest me if the story you are telling me it true. I want to know if you can disappoint another to be true to yourself; if you can bear the accusation of betrayal and not betray your own soul; if you can be faithful and therefore trustworthy.
I want to know if you can see beauty, even when it’s not pretty, every day, and if you can source your own life from its presence.
I want to know if you can live with failure, yours and mine, and still stand on the edge of the lake and shout to the silver of the full moon, “Yes!”
It doesn’t interest me to know where you live or how much money you have. I want to know if you can get up, after a night of grief and despair, weary and bruised to the bone, and do what needs to be done to feed the children.
It doesn’t interest me to know who you know or how you came to be here. I want to know if you will stand in the center of the fire with me and not shrink back.
It doesn’t interest me where or what or with whom you have studied. I want to know what sustains you, from the inside, when all else falls away.
I want to know if you can be alone with yourself and if you truly like the company you keep in the empty moments.
-Oriah Mountain Dreamer.

The Female Mind Field

Why are women so mean to each other, either conciously or unconciously? I’m not asking out of self-pity for myself, although I encounter this behavior on a daily basis (including today which prompted me to write), I will admit I’m not completely wholesome on this one. I’m just asking why we do it? Men complain about the occasional “block” when trying to talk to a woman, but that is nothing compared to the mine fields that women set for other women for just about anything, not just men. Are we afraid to see each other succeed, or afraid of how a change might affect us so much that we’d sabotage each other even at the expense of a friend/coworker/loved one/stranger’s feelings or life path? Or is it that we are so selfish that even if it’s not what we want, we just don’t want others to have it, either?

I'm just asking the questions. Even if left unanswered, they're off my mind.

Bride of Frankenstein?

Something happened to me in my sleep last night, and this morning I woke up as a monster.

When I looked in the mirror, the left half of the white of my left eye was all bright red. I guess I had somehow burst a blood vessel in my eye during the night. I look horribly gross by my standards. Obviously, I’m wearing my glasses, so at least I look like an intelligent monster! Looks like no contacts for at least a few days to a week. I called the doctor and he said it is common, and there’s nothing you can do but just wait for the red to go away. Fun. Maybe Frankenstein will come strolling by and want to take me for a witches' brew somewhere.

Singled In

So Valentine's Day just passed us by and guess what? I had a good time being single. Yes, actually, I did. It's all thanks to my friend Sabrina who decided to throw a singles' Valentine's Day party. Everyone got along and had a great time. No one moped about being single. It was a great time to meet new friends and transfer our thoughts off of the over-commercialized day of "love." So, thanks, Sabrina! Great job!

I do, however, have a half-baked idea about who is the mastermind behind the creation of Valentine's Day. Hallmark? No. They just perpetuate the holiday to spike their sales. Here's my train of thoughts: Hopefully, Valentine's Day isn't the ONLY day that people in love celebrate their love (If so, then I feel sorry for them and would rather be single anyway). So, we can rule out that it was created to bring together lovers; therefore, ruling in that it must have been created to alienate single people. And why would we want to alienate single people you ask? Well, so they'll be more inclined to try harder during the next year to find someone to be with. And eventually procreate. And who would want to create a day to alienate single people for this purpose? Why, inpatient mothers and grandmothers wanting grandchildren, of course! :)

I'm really just kidding, but thought it was a nice spin on the obvious. I do get tired of having to answer the "when am I going to have grandchildren" question though. It's the cart before the horse. Let's start with finding a quality man and a first date. One step at a time. But, if you can relate to this situation, I highly recommend getting a dog. It's a great diversion for moms. At least you can show up for a visit with a "grand-dog" to take care of, and maybe avoid being asked that question every other time you visit.

As a Pisces, I feel like a Beta

I've come up with an analogy for being broken up with after a lengthy relationship. It's like being a beta fish. Yes, I feel like I've been a beta fish. Just hear me out. A few years ago, I was one of the many supposed "plenty of fish in the sea." As it happens, another considered me to be a "good catch" (and I couldn't agree more with him on that hee hee). He threw me a line, something to the effect of "you're cute, would you like to go out sometime?", and I was caught, hook, line, and sinker. I was scooped up out of the murky waters of singledom where the unknown looms around every coral reef and for almost 2 years lived very happily in a bubble. I was a beta fish in a fish bowl. Happy. Someone took care of me, made me feel safe, fed me, and every once in awhile appreciated my appearance, as any girl would agree is always nice. Everything was going just swimmingly and I fell in love for the first time ever in my 25 years of life. Well, you can just imagine my utter shock when one day completely out of the blue he wanted to turn me loose. And I found that in a maddening rush of water completely out of my control, my warm fish bowl had been dumped upside down. Gasping for air, the wind knocked out of me, and feavorishly trying to hold onto the bowl, the smooth sides left nothing to grab onto no matter how I tried. I was back out in the cold, deep, dark sea again. Now, trying desparately to make my way back to the warm playful water to meet up with other single friends again, this time quite a bit fewer then when I left as others have been scooped up themselves in the meantime, I'm weary of dodging a variety of shady bottom-dwelling characters. Sharks and eels and even occasional stingrays hidden just beneath the sand, I make every effort to pay close attention to those that might not be out for my best interest as a beta. Rejoined with the other fish in the sea, I'll be content with the faith that I'm exactly where I'm supposed to be at this very time of my life. Hanging out in the ocean, learning how to swim again, checking out the other fish, and beginning to realize that when it's time for me to meet a good catch, he'll swim by.

As for my previous swimming partner, I'm getting over being bitter. But I will admit that from time to time, I wouldn't mind if he had some bad sushi.

It's me...in cat form

If my personality were to be captured in a cat, it'd definitely be in this one! Sweet and friendly, aloof and sassy, with a streak of innocent mischieviousness (or maybe not so innocent, who can ever tell with women?) - she can surely hold her own! Good thing she belongs to me! Please meet, Allye (bama) Girl , my cat of 10 years.

Small, Dark, and Handsome

Funny enough, while on the subject of bedtime, the love of my life (at this point in my life anyway) is begging me to come to bed. Showering me with kisses, he can't keep his paws off of me. He's practically, well, panting. I'd be super flattered if it were my husband, but it's cute just the same in a highly different context. It's my dog, Darby - a Kenneth Darby, University of Alabama football player, namesake (Roll Tide!). Adopted October 23, 2004 from the Cobb County, Georgia Animal Shelter and one of the best things to come home to, and lavish my affection on. He's my small, dark, and handsome while waiting to meet my tall, dark, and handsome. I'll post a picture once I figure out how to, although I know all the ladies will "drool."
>

Goodnight Moon....Aww do I hafta?

How can someone love their bed, love to sleep so much, and actually despise to the core of their body getting up out of the bed in the morning, yet absolutely hate to actually go to bed? It's been my curse since birth according to my parents. I never liked to go to bed even as a baby, but I sure hated to get up. I'd stay up all night if I could function during the day at work. As "bedtime" looms nearer, every night I find excuses not to get in bed. Oh, I haven't done the dishes, I'll do those before bed. And wait, I haven't changed my sheets, let me do that before I get in. Let's not forget to take out the contacts and wash my face, and while I'm in here I'll just tidy up the bathroom. Oh, I haven't started this book or I haven't finished reading this magazine just yet, let me get in a few stories/chapters before going to sleep. And now, my friend Tiffany, has introduced me to my newest excuse, and perhaps the most entertaining so far (hey, it's up against dishes and sheets, come on!) to get to bed later and later - the blog. As my first official blog, I hope whoever reads this isn't looking for some masterful writing skills. Outside of the occasional altogether accidental alliteration (see? it does happen sometimes), you won't find any Pulitzer Prize winning author here. So keep moving onto someone else if that's what you're looking for. But if you to are up late and looking for something other to do then to get in the bed, keep reading. You and I have a lot in common. It's not for me to analyze why I don't like actually going to bed (although I could put my psychology degree to good work), but just to know it's part of who I am. And I enjoy it. Welcome to my blogs, most will be late night - it's when I do my best work. Whoo Whoo.