Aaaaand, I'm certifiable

Last night in my blogging around and tears I ran across a bizarre acronym that meant a totally different thing than the thing I thought of. And it suddenly dawned on me that NaNoWriMo is this month.

It occurred to me, last week?, maybe to consider giving it a shot. And then I realized with a psychotic cyclone I'm currently living in (my last 3 posts aside, life is nuts right now) and i thought I'd be crazy to add it.

Last night I thought, why not? And then blogged the mess that all started with Three Rivers and Alex O'Laughlin. And thought, you'd be nuts!

Then today at lunch it dawned on me again. And I thought "I can't finish the novel I have in my head. Not the one I have started. About Claire. Not the excerpt I gave my blog readers. I can't finish that novel, it's too close to my heart and I really want to write Claire well. " So, as I was running an errand at lunch I pondered

"What kind of story would i like to read?? What stories are missing??"

And I met Neil. In my mind, mind you, not in real life. And I had an idea, and went home and started scribbling. And I am certain it will be infinitely harder than I imagine. But I'm also hoping it'll be infinitely more rewarding than I imagine.

And if you are absolutely completely and utterly out of the loop. Here is the website for NaNoWriMo. November is National Novel Writing Month. And people all over the world sign up on that site and track their novels and share their progress and get help etc whatever, I'm not entirely sure. But I read the pep talk #1 and before I even made it past point #1 i was hooked.

1) Your novel will not be as bad as you fear. In fact, by November 30 you will have amassed tens of thousands of words of very solid prose. You will come up with things that make you laugh so hard you have to wipe off the keyboard afterwards, and passages so moving that you will cry as you write them. Your plot will unexpectedly give birth to fantastic subplots, characters will reveal surprising and juicy things about themselves, and you'll have some moments during NaNoWriMo that will rank among the most satisfying and happy-making of your life

At which point I realize I am supposed to amass 50,000 words by the end of the month. And I put in the half a paragraph I scribbled at lunch. I have 68 words right now. But, I'm going to give it (my) ol' college try and see what I have in December. I'm mostly going to write it long-hand because I get hung up by other distractions on the computer. (stupid facebook). But I'm going to give it a shot.

Here we go Neil!!!

Then I started browsing the site to see if there were any things I ought to be doing to keep up. And I run across this page here. And #4 says:
4) Begin procrastinating by reading through all the great advice and funny stories in the forums. Post some stories and questions of your own. Get excited. Get nervous. Try to rope someone else into doing this with you. Eat lots of chocolate and stockpile noveling rewards.

And I giggle. Because although I'm not technically yet procrastinating, I am reading through the pages. I am posting a few bits on my profile. I am already excited and equally nervous. And have already tried roping one friend into it and have two other friends (Lori? Sarah?) I'm wondering if will join me or not. Chocolate is currently on my counter waiting to be consumed. And I am now considering noveling rewards. Suggestions??

And Now I'm going to post this. New Facebook status. Wash face. Consume cake. Write a bit. and to Bed. clearly not before 11.

Why I prefer crime dramas (lots of rambling)

Shortest answer?
They don't make me cry.

Almost any time I watch a standard primetime dramatic television series. I cry. Regularly. Last week I cried at Private Practice and I don't even watch the freakin show!

If I linger at mom and dad's on Sunday nights after Three Rivers (my only exception to this rule, and primarily an exception because of Alex O'Loughlin) I end up crying at Brothers and Sisters.

Yes, I'm a soft touch. No, it doesn't often take all that much to make me cry. Yes, it's easier if I'm tired or worn out.

A few weeks back I cried at Private Practice because Violet was giving the boyfriend guy the baby because she couldn't bond with her newborn. Here's the twist for me. I start crying because all I can think is that I may never even get the option to bond with a baby.

I cried on my way home one night because someone on one of the shows was in love. And he had professed something lovely and endearing and, yes, likely improbable in real life. But I'm not even sure any of the guys I have ever dated have professed anything eloquent enough to be put down in writing, clearly nothing worth committing to memory.

I cried tonight because i very suddenly and very deeply felt forgotten.

I am feeling invisible again. And it's been awhile, so it's kind of fresh right now.
I feel left out
left behind
cast aside
used up
un-valuable
not worth your time
or effort
or concern

.......

and I know that it is mostly untrue.

I know, in my mind, that I have good friends. And people who love me. Family who love me. So so so many kids who not only love me .... they love me unconditionally. They love me solely for showing up!

I posted a lovely post last night about contentment and peace and being full. And it was true then. And it will be true again.

Tonight I thought "I have 271 friends on facebook, and only one person thought to invite me to any Halloween 'festivities'. " Only one.

We did a personality profile at church awhile back. And I'm the type of person who absolutely thrives on parties and fun and social butterfly etc etc etc. So, any time, and I mean pretty much any time I hear that there is fun to be had or there was fun to be had and I wasn't or aren't invited, it makes me a bit sad.

But here's the thing ...
Tonight, I'm not sad because there was 'fun' out there to be had and I wasn't invited. I had a lovely evening. I got exactly what I needed, and I'm fine with that. What makes me sad, Is that I came home to an empty apartment with two fish again. I went to bed alone, again. I got up and made myself coffee, alone, again. Tonight I came home, to an empty apartment with two fish, again.

For someone who thrives in groups and with people, you would be absolutely stunned to realize how much time I spend alone. I have been fully single for 7 years. I have lived fully alone for over 2 years.

I am absolutely aware how ridiculous this sounds, but I see this lovely man on Three Rivers tell his wife how much he loves her. And she says how much she loves him. But they both refuse to make any concessions or compromises to be together and make their marriage work. And I think "I would do anythingto make that work if a good and decent man loved me like that. ANYTHING."

And I'm worried that it doesn't matter. Because the odds are stacked against me 2:3. Did you know that? I read that the other day. In an average church there are 3 single women to every 2 single men. And if I allow myself to consider any factors other than God's own Divine Providence and Intervention, then I am almost always going to come out last among those 3.

"You only get one chance to make a first impression." I have come to hate that phrase. I can only hope that I get to smile at you before you notice the rest of me. I can only hope that my first impression focuses on my laughter
or smile
or eyes
or earrings
or hair
.... or shoes! Because I am nearly convinced that if you notice anything in between first, then you're outta there. And I know that's not fair. But it feels like the truth of my world.

And I'd rather not be reminded. I'd rather not see "people" give up on love. I'd rather not see "people" fall in love. Or have babies.

And I'd rather not hear how great my life is compared to yours. And I'd rather not hear how I ought to use this time to prepare. And I'd rather not hear how the 'right' man will come along. Or the 'right' man won't notice those things in between my earrings and my shoes. I'd rather not hear how glad I ought to be that I'm not married to this guy or that guy or her husband or hers.

I'd rather immerse myself in 'reality' TV. And fringe science with incredibly bizarre and creepy theories and experiments. And a world where everyone had a vision of their future 6 months from now and they're all trying to figure out what it means. And a crime lab where they all get along pretty well, and they solve crimes 25 out of 26 shows.

I'd rather distract myself with those, than remind myself that I'm going to post this, get a glass of milk, and go to bed,
alone,
again.

A Good Measure

Luke 6:38 (New International Version)
38Give, and it will be given to you. A good measure, pressed down, shaken together and running over, will be poured into your lap. For with the measure you use, it will be measured to you."

I got to experience that tonight. Poured into for pouring out.

We hosted a young people (20something ish) group at church tonight. I went as part of the kitchen crew for my church. Technically I don't qualify since the age range I was given was 18-30 and I passed 30 a few months back. But I went to serve one of the most wonderful, amazing ladies we have at our church. And to simply serve. And to do something I considered productive tonight.

I simply went as a servant to (basically) whomever needed me. To be honest, that level of servanthood is not my 'default.' But when I know that is my purpose and goal in the situation I can do it quite well. So I served Kay. And I tried to serve Deb and Susi.

And the group. I welcomed people a bit and directed them towards our food and pointed out the bathrooms. I helped direct/explain the food as they went through the line. I helped set up the food room. I served.

Then the group officially started. I checked in with the kitchen and the ladies were doing well without me so I joined the worship song time. It was lovely. It was fulfilling and beautiful and awe-filling. It was just perfectly, exactly what I needed. I won't be able to attend church tomorrow as I will be helping a friend with wedding plans for her wedding next Saturday. So, this time of worship was just Divinely Perfect.

I ended up simply joining the group and being a part of them. Games played, ideas discussed a little, message relayed and received. All in all a good night.

We had a bonfire, which had mostly burned out by the time I could get outside. But there was still enough to thoroughly enjoy. So, I did. I borrowed a coat and stood by the fire and pondered the new and fresh fullness in my chest.

I tweeted:
I am standing alone next to a fading bonfire in a borrowed coat, no costume, admiring the blue and green flames, and i am happy. =D

That's how full I was. I needed to share. Then i texted it to a few friends I thought might still be up. And I pondered. I realized something ...

but, let me back up.

I am single. I don't prefer this state. I have had one of the hardest months (6 weeks?) of my life and am barely coming out the other side of it. I told a few different friends during that time, and possibly before, that I am at the edge of giving up hope of finding a good man. Simply because 1) the odds are stacked against me in so many ways and 2) I wonder if it would hurt less to give up the hope than to keep hoping and being perpetually disappointed. Most of those friends were pretty encouraging, none of them recommended I go forward with my 'giving up hope' plan, but they had varying degrees of 'keep the hope' sentiments.

Two weeks ago I kinda sorta met a guy who could have good potential. (waaaaaaay long story that is simply not worth getting into at this point). Tonight I met another guy and this one I actually had a conversation with.(!!!) I gave him directions to the interstate and gave him my phone # so he could call if he got off track or anything. Even more potential there. But the first guy also knows multiple ways to track me down, in a good way, I promise! Anyway,

As I sat by the fire I prayed what I pretty much always pray when I meet a guy I am or could be interested in.

"Lord, do as you wish. You put a fire under his backside to get to know me. You do as you wish in this situation. Protect me from myself."

And as I prayed that and pondered the fire and sang a chorus repeatedly in my head and also out loud I thought

"He is doing something in me. Regardless of either of these guys. God is absolutely certain what He is doing in my life. He has a plan and he has not given up on me."

And I was just so full. If you've never experienced that sort of Divine Perfection from God, then I recommend you find a way to get there. It is definitively an experience beyond words. Even attempting to express it here feels incomplete.

As much as I remain a "Not Internally Motivated" person, He can motivate me. He can change me. He can help change my habits. He can teach me how to be different. He loves me regardless of all of that. Tonight, I will wallow in that.

That and gaining an hour that means I won't get up while it's still freakin dark outside anymore.

Internal Motivation

I'm just not. I'm not internally motivated. I never have been. I, effectively, require the external motivation of punishment or discipline in order to do much of anything in life. Even the promise of reward seldom motivates me to do something.

I only tidy up all the corners of my apartment when I am expecting multiple people. And even then it has to be more than one person and typically from more than one sphere of my worlds. And even inside those requirements I still seldom tidy every single solitary corner of my apartment. Usually my office area is what is left untidy-ed.

I only clean my area once something about the dirtiness starts bothering me. I won't go into details here mostly because it would gross most of you out.

I go to work because I need to pay my bills.

I walk or cycle only when one of two things occurs. 1) I desperately need to connect with God on a
deeper level or 2) I get jittery from the lack of movement.

There was a time I wouldn't balance my checkbook until I had bounced something or had to figure out if something was about to bounce. Now I balance my checkbook only when I need to pay bills and I need to figure out how much I can pay on debt. and this month, I got an extra paycheck so I haven't balanced it yet. In fact between facebook and this post I am effectively putting that task off for at least another 5 days.

I want to write a book. 3 books, maybe more, to be honest. I have the ideas in my head. I have a manuscript started for the novel. I have an outline started for my memoir. I have an idea in my head for a 3rd, a couple of titles I'd like to use somehow somewhere, and the novel? That could be the start of a whole series of books. What did I do today? Facebook mostly, while listening to Season 1 of CSI.

Recently I started doing some volunteer work with InterVarsity Christian Fellowship at my old Alma Mater. One of the few things I do without threat of punishment. I do it solely because I so incredibly and deeply enjoy it. College was an incredible time for me and I love sharing that time with students who are experiencing their own incredible time right now. This is very likely one of the only things I have done in years that I chose to do, set out to do, pursued and achieved, solely for the personal fulfillment and 'giving back' of it.

I am absolutely full of dreams. I have set goals for nearly every thing imaginable. I am not sure I have ever achieved a single one of the goals I have ever set in my entire life. This little fact is like a splinter in my mind. It niggles at me. It pokes at me.

It does not motivate me.

I have a side business. A direct sales company that I absolutely love. I can potentially help a lot of people change their lives on a few different levels. I haven't touched this business in a month, maybe two. I set goals. I take notes. I make plans. I have dreams. I look at our newsletters. I get motivational emails and follow motivational blogs.

I'm not afraid of the typical things consultants in direct sales are. I'm not truly afraid of the phone. I'm not afraid of approaching strangers. I'm not technically afraid of failure nor of success.

I'm afraid that I won't be able to maintain it. I think the maintenance idea is what's at the core of why NONE of my goals has ever been achieved.

I can't even tell you how many Januarys I have declared that this year is the year I'm going to lose this weight and be the healthier happier more active and hopefully more in love person that I think I am supposed to be. But it feels hypocritical to lose 40-50-60 pounds in order to attract a man when I'm convinced on this side of the relationship that I won't want to maintain that weight loss for the duration of my life. It's equivalent to bleaching my hair out to be a blond until after the honeymoon and going back to my natural nearly-black brunette. It's disingenuous. And I think rude and ignorant, not to mention stupid and immature. All things I despise!

My current life. This I can maintain. 40+ hours a week at a somewhat challenging job that brings me home a paycheck to pay my apartment, car, insurance, internet, cell phone, food and gas. A couple nights a week catching up with friends and family over TV shows or whatever excuse we want. Saturdays spent "Doing as Little as Possible, for as Long as Possible." Sundays typically up to go to church and be loved and show love. A night or two a week investing in college students who need a glimpse of life beyond campus once in awhile, and sometimes need that glimpse to just give them a hug and love on them a bit. These things I can maintain.

This life, I can keep up with.

But if I choose to "Work my business" and get bored in 3 months, then what? If I choose to work my ass off in workouts for 6 months and lose 40 pounds, and still don't meet a great guy who loves my sparkling personality, then what? If I spend months writing my fingers to the bone (figuratively and possibly literally) and pump out both manuscripts, and no publishing house will even talk to me about publishing them, then what?

I realized more deeply than ever recently that I 'process' through ideas and problems and situations out loud. Verbally. Sometimes i can't figure out what I'm thinking or what decision I want to make until I'm actually saying it out loud to someone else. Apparently I can 'process' a little bit in writing. I just had a small revelation.

tiny.

All my goals are always set with the end in mind. Which, I believe, is typical goal-setting-theory. The problem is that I'm not convinced those ends are possible or sustainable. And I forget entirely The Process.

What might I find out about myself if I Worked my Business every single day for two weeks? Much less for Two months? How many people might I be able to help? How much debt might I be able to pay off?? How much savings might I be able to stockpile?????

What revelations would I see if I worked out, consistently, hard, effectively, for 3 months? What strength of character might I uncover? What focus of energy might I find? What euphoria might I be able to maintain??

What skills could I hone if I wrote, something, somewhere for any of my books, every single day for 365 days? if i wrote in a single book for 365 days I would have 365 pages at the end of a year. What if it never gets 'published' but I share it with my own circles and impact lives I personally know? What lives could I effectively influence by my written words if I improved my craft every day for 365 days??

I tend to see black and white. All or Nothing. I don't see 'and' nor 'or'. I see the beginning and I see the end. I don't see the journey in the middle. Rather, I don't see the value in that journey. I assume failure at the end so I don't see the purpose for the beginning.

And I stay mired in my messes, crying in my nachos, and filling up my days so I don't have to acknowledge how unfulfilled my soul truly is. I'll be pondering this journey idea. You?

That's a double U, not a dubl-ya

I have said it before, I am about to say it again, and prove it too.

I do not flirt well.

Remember Ross? on Friends? Remember the Pizza Girl?

If not, just remember Ross, that'll get you close enough. (There was a video on youtube at one point, and i had put it on my old blog on MSN, but one day I went back to watch it again and laugh and enjoy, and some network muckety muck had gotten it removed. :( )

I tell these stories, and there is always a new person that I suspect doesn't believe I'm truly that bad. To their credit I am fairly crazy to begin with. And as one who considers Extrovert to be an Extreme Sport worthy of Olympic candidacy, I can see how you might doubt my utter lack of anything remotely resembling "prowess" when faced with the opposite sex.

Doubt no longer.

(Hopefully won't give any privacy stuff away)

Wednesday I had to call an insured who had missed a payment and was going to get cancelled. It's a service we do. You miss your payment, I get a notice, I call you to remind you. Only had one person in 2 years get UPSET with me for calling to reminder her of a payment. But we're not talking about her. We're talking about CuteSingleDad who purchased a house awhile back. He didn't pay his bill. So, I called, because it's my job!

Friday afternoon he comes in and I say "CuteSingleDad, you brought me money!"

He responds "Yes, because you called me. But, ya know, that's the only reason you ever call, when you want money. You never call just to see how things are going!"

Me, "Well, I'm not sure how appropriate that would be."

Him, looks at my hands "Well, you're not married are ya?"

Me .... (ready for Stupid Moment #1???) Look down at my hands!!! As if I'm going to be surprised by some fantastic diamond and say "Well, oh, my, look at that, apparently I am married! I'll have to check into that!!" Seriously ... why would I look at my hands! I've worn the same two rings for a year and a half!! And then I say "No, I'm not married" I'm rather certain there was a fair amount of scoff in my voice when I said it, but he let that slide.

Him, "Well, I'm not married either. So, there's nothing inappropriate about it."

Then he continues "Ok, so who do I write this check out to? You? Kristine? What's your last name?"

And .... are we ready for Stupid Moment #2?? And I mean SERIOUSLY STUPID MOMENT!!!

My response? To "What's your last name?" Are you ready??

"Webster ... with a 'W' "

Yep. That's what I said. (sigh)

I did sort of almost possibly salvage it, because I did realize within a second or so how incredibly moronic that sounded. And I said something in the effect of "Although that's kind of obvious, the more important is that it's Kristine with a K." Which I now realize is why I said it that way. I always say "Kristine with a K." So in skipping my first name I still defaulted into my habitual response. (SIGH)

Maybe he thought it was funny. Maybe he knows I think he's cute and finds it amusing to toy with me. Maybe he thinks I'm an idiot and is still trying to figure out how I keep my job.

If he should ever run across this, you'll probably know right away who you are. You can ask me out, I can tell you in advance, I'll say yes. to Coffee or dinner or lunch or something with your beautiful daughter. I can guarantee the first Yes. After that it's all going to be based on your character and whether or not you laugh at the rest of my jokes. Like the time I got lost on a walk within a mile of my own house in a city I was born and raised in and lived all but 18 months of my life in. yeah, that's a good one.

(Oh, and you get the candy of your choice if you can name the movie I got my title from)

Purse?

In lieu of my personal mess. I bring you Mocha Momma.

Do you have an old, small purse you’d be willing to donate?
Can you purchase a small purse that we can use for our Purse Drive?

Click here for her entire post. I'm going to go through my purses. You go through yours. Leave me a comment and let me know when I can get your purses from you and I'll gather them all up and send them.

Brett and Packer

If you're not reading my Superfantastic friend Lori, you need to be. Here is just a taste of why ...

Packer met Brett when he was young, wild, and reckless. Things were rough at first, but Packer knew that he had potential, so she stuck with him. It turned into a long and, though volatile at times, wonderful relationship overall. Packer saw Brett through his drug addiction. Brett took Packer everywhere she had always wanted to go.

Click here and go read the rest. This is why I love Lori oh so very much, in an oh so very very platonic way.