I Don’t Wanna Grow Up

Yesterday I got a cell phone bill for $165. When I called the company, they also informed me that $71.54 of that was a payment that was 30 days overdue. Conveniently, I couldn’t recall receiving anything that informed me of this payment being due in the first place! Of course, my plan is only worth $30 a month but I have $17.15 in other fees, plus the few times I’ve messaged or called Jimi. STUPID IDEA! I’ll never do it again!!

I could hardly wait to get off the phone with the brash guy with the foreign accent so I could call my boyfriend and sob PMS-fed tears. He helped me get the phone, after all–maybe he’d have the right answer. Of course all he could do was console me with, “You’ll learn from this.”

Last month I got a letter in the mail from the government reminding me that my taxes from 2005 have not been submitted and woe to me if I don’t get on that. And, of course, there’s the 2006 taxes to do. Joy.

Another bright sunshiny spot in my grown-up life is Brokedom. Credit card maxed out (thank God I only have a $1000 limit!), bank account drained, and I am paycheque-less for another week or so. This is when I’m thankful to not have a car and to be living at my mom’s!

Which brings me to needing another job. I hate looking for jobs. I’ve actually never really had to look much–jobs have always sort of happened to me. I also find the idea of having to juggle two jobs and the rest of my life (the occasional Mom need, visiting my boyfriend, family and friends, church responsibilities, etc.) distasteful.

I’d like to find Neverland ’cause growing up can suck!

My Cyber Boyfriend

I have a cyber boyfriend. (gasp!)

We met on MySpace. (whaaaaaaat?!)

We’ve been “officially” together since January, and so far I’ve spent no more than 14 days actually with him, face to face. (foolish!)

Enter Jimi.

Jimi just turned 24 (yup, 2 years younger than me). He’s a tiny bit shorter than me, and my hands dwarf his. But his feet are bigger, so that’s a relief. Jimi is very skilled at dressing himself (phew!) and likes to keep a bit of stubble around at all times (sexy!). There is no way our kids (chill–that’s if we get married and have them) will be able to escape having thick hair or green eyes. Or wittiness or quirkiness or a good sense of self-awareness or a love of reading or a great taste in music.

Apparently I’m perfect for Jimi. He claims he’s never met a girl so witty or smart (or hot, of course!) all at the same time. Not that there aren’t moments in which I annoy him… there are. But Jimi deals with them and recovers from them nicely. And somehow continues to be (sometimes dorkily) charming in spite of it.

Jimi gets me like no one else ever has. He’s not intending to usurp my best girl-friends, but there just seems to be this connection we have. At times we have to fight to communicate well and sometimes we wonder (me more than him) if we’re meant to connect for the rest of our lives or not.

Honestly, I’m a waverer in this relationship. Some days, I’m thrilling about how well this guy loves me, how well he treats me, how much fun we have together, how amazing it is to be able to tell him anything (and yes, I do mean anything), how tolerant he is of my (occasional??) moodiness, how loved I feel when he prays for us, the feeling of security and contentment I have when I’m with him, how mind-blowing it is that he’s cool with my “strong calling” (loosely meaning I’m not ever gonna be the normal pastor’s-wifey housewifey working-9-to-5 type and I won’t just be able to follow him around… he might have to follow me at times) and spiritual leadership (and that he makes a great spiritual leader of me), and so much more.

Other days, I’m wondering. Wondering if he could possibly be as good as I think he is. Wondering if this is really what God wants for me. Wondering if I’d be missing out on something else (better?! is that possible?!) if I choose Jimi forever and always. And then there’s the part about not always being physically attracted to him (whaat?!) (yes, he’s aware of it, it didn’t bowl him over, and he took it like a man). Is it worth throwing out the rest of an amazing relationship with an amazing man for?

Jimi wants to marry me. Wow!

I love him. And most days, I know I’d love to be married to him. What do I do about the days that I wonder? Will there always be wondering in any relationship? Is it always mostly about choosing someone and then choosing to love them for the rest of your given days?

I have a boyfriend. His name is Jimi. He’s amazing. And yes, he’ll read this post.

Diva has Moved

So, after some thought, I decided that my target market for A Transparent Life won’t necessarily appreciate the Chronicles of Diva. I haven’t moved the Diva posts that originated with this blog, so as not to lose the comments, etc. (and to save me some work, muahaha), but rather I’ve just linked the new blog to those posts.

From here on in, please go to Diva Girl Chronicles for the monthly tales of life with the DivaCup. You can either use the above link, bookmark diva.atransparentlife.com or go to my profile and look for my other blogs and click on the appropriate one (no, I don’t underestimate your intelligence).

Starting today, you can read my Diva adventures over there… don’t miss it!

Needy Schmeedy

I hate putting people out, making them go out of their way, or pick up my slack. I resent the implication that I might not be… well, perfect. Of course I know I’m not, and that’s why it bothers me so much!

Maybe it’s a Canadian thing. Or maybe I’m fatally flawed. Or, more likely, it happens to more people than me.

If I’m acting strange towards you, it may be because I’m holding my neediness against myself.

Sorry. I’ll get over it eventually. Possibly when I get the chance to pick up your slack.

Rumours of God

Those that have any knowledge of the Good Book know that every time the word “church” is used, it is in reference to the group of people that have decided to gather for the purpose of following God together, and never to buildings or customs used by said people. It never used to imply a set of rules or expectations. Condemnation wasn’t an original side effect.

I was one of those people that used to think that if you didn’t go to a certain church, or if you didn’t go to church every Sunday, your salvation was called into question. I used to be one of those that would have told you to go to the Pentecostal church in order to be a “real Christian”. I used to think that it was more important for me to be in church twice on Sundays than to ask God if there was anything specific he’d like me to do that day.

I’ve heard that my church used to have a Rule Book which listed guidelines for good Pentecostal behaviour. No, I haven’t been fortunate enough to actually see one… I’ve only heard about it, as I said, from someone who has. Movie-going was frowned upon, as was walking on the same side of the street as the movie theatre (sinner! You know you’ve broken that rule!). Apparently church-goers were discouraged from eating in the church on Sundays, because it was the House of the Lord and should be respected for its holy significance. We all know eating is a fleshly indulgence and disgraces the creator of both food and our digestive systems! If women wore pants, their salvation was in question.

We’ve come a long way since then. Yet we still don’t know how to relate to addicts of any sort, the divorced woman, the handicapped person, homosexuals, liberals, pro-choicers, etc. Porn, lust, and masturbation scare us so much that members of our own “church family” suffer in forsaken condemnation.

All too often, there is a wide barrier between us and the people we’re trying to “reach”. We’re not willing to jump over to the other side or get our hands dirty in the process of shining a light of love and truth onto the life of another. We imply “come to us and all will be better”, “inside the church you’ll be fine”, then once they’re “in”, if indeed they fall for it, often their true needs are neglected because they “accepted Christ”.

Jesus-loving people, I don’t believe it’s about how many hands are raised to repeat a prayer at the end of a sermon. It’s not about how many people are in the sanctuary on Sunday morning and evening. It’s not about our stellar programs or how much offering we’re sending back to the denomination’s head office! Whether or not the board members have been divorced or wear ties to church does not reflect on our church’s holiness. A ring in soemone’s eyebrow does not negate the earnestness of their heart’s faith.

I realize that structure is of great importance to some, and there are certain ways that you learned a God-life should be lived. My challenge to you is to dare to reconsider them in light of God’s continual creativity–his approach to this age and generation are different than others. I dare you to ask God what he actually thinks about things instead of just accepting someone else’s opinion, even if it is informed (yes, mine included 🙂 ).

God forgive us for propagating and believing rumours of him which have stifled our identities, our freedom, our creativity, and even our ability to think.

Longings

“We are like Swiss cheese, and the holes in us are actually supposed to be there. The holes are the things that make us who we are. The holes are the places God has reserved in us for Himself! The longings identify our real hunger. A hunger that drives us to Him to be satisfied. If... big if… we listen.”

Fresh-Brewed Life, Nicole Johnson

Hello, Moto!

Etiquette, common sense, courtesy–all terms we recognize, and we tend to harp on other people when they don’t extend them to us. But do we, in fact, realize our own role in extending appropriate gestures to our fellow man?

Last week I sat in a meeting in a church basement at which about 70 people were present. Though it could hold twice as many people, the room has the sort of acoustics that make it possible, when things are generally quiet (as in when the chairman of the meeting was speaking), to hear from one side of the room, a conversation on the other side of the room. The meeting was a business meeting, and different people were standing up to give reports, new ideas were being shared, etc.

When the first cell phone rang and everyone heard it, you’d think most people would be reminded to turn their respective phones on vibrate, to save others the annoyance and themselves the embarassment. I know I was (yes, look at me, goody-two-shoes). But au contraire, mes amis! Likely, others were motivated the same way I was (or they haven’t caught the digital technology bug yet) but not all.

In fact, apparently some people aren’t embarrassed at all when their cell phones go off in a room where everyone can hear everything, and they think nothing of it. Or when their watches go off for a full minute at 9:45 pm. Daily BM reminder?? Not one, not two, not three, but closer to six cell phones rang during that meeting, plus the watch alarm.

Did these people end the calls or shut off their phones? No, my friends. Well, I guess some did.

One man, who was sitting in the front row, no less, couldn’t find his ringing phone for quite some time, giving some of us the pleasure of grooving to “Hello, Moto!” When he found it, he promptly answered it. I do credit him with keeping his conversation short and sweet.

A woman got up to leave the room when her phone rang, but didn’t wait ’til she got outside the room to greet her caller. We all heard the inquisitive, “hello?”

Another woman in the back row carried on a discreet conversation that was quite short, but still audible. As, of course, was the ringing of her phone.

However, the cake was taken by a final woman, who answered her ringing cell phone in what sounded to me like a resounding voice. She spoke at first as if she didn’t know who she was talking to, then said something like, “No, she’s at the house”. We all looked at the man giving the report as if he was wondering if “she” was at the house or not. Said woman continued on to give the phone number of “the house” twice, and of course exchanged some pleasantries before hanging up. The speaker did his best to carry on, but his train of thought was interrupted at least twice, and I definitely know I missed what he said during those few moments.

Up until then, I had never really understood why people freaked out about cell phone etiquette. Now, I’d like to steal that cute and annoying animation they have at the movies that reminds people to turn their cell phones on vibrate, burn it onto a CD, and play it at the beginning of all meetings I attend.

Seriously, people. This may be a small town, but ignorance in this case does not mean bliss for those around you. If I’m not there with my lovely video presentation, let the first phone that goes off remind you: you’ve got the “silent” setting for a reason. I’m available to give tutorials.

Wondering Why

This week was a tragic one for my town.

A five-year old boy whose family used to live here, a rambunctious boy who used to eat crayons and giggle endlessly, ended up in the hospital with kidney failure. They discovered that he only has one kidney, and the other one is riddled with disease. He’ll need a transplant.

Monday morning, after feeling somewhat sick all weekend, and even going to the hospital on Sunday, John stayed home from work. His wife called in sick for him, then took the kids, aged 5, Grade 4 and Grade 6, to school, then ran some errands. I should tell you that John grew up in this town. He was on the local high school’s winning football team in the seventies. He owned one of the town’s gyms, was my family’s first landlord in this town, and many other things that I was not fortunate enough to know about him.

Healthy, with three young children and a good job, John was dead before his wife got back from running her errands.

Cause of death? A burst appendix.

Why did the hospital miss the symptoms? We may never know.

What does one say to John’s widow and children? How do you begin to gain closure after such a death?

I honestly don’t know. I didn’t know what to say to John’s coworkers when they came into the store I work at to look for condolence cards and gifts, or simply to grieve after the funeral. I didn’t know how to respond to the teachers when they came in looking for memorial gifts to give to John’s kids.

I just stood there, shaking my head, wondering why. Why is it possible for a father and husband in the prime of his life to die so suddenly and quietly, not to mention alone? Why would the doctors be unaware that a five-year-old is missing a kidney, or that his only existing kidney was sick?

I don’t know. I wish I did. I wish I could adequately comfort people. I wish I had more than trite phrases to say. So I just stood there. And wondered.

The Results

Today must be a productive day, so I’m going to post mostly pictures… yay! I finally painted that spare room last night, or most of it. I’m about to do the trim this morning, then clean it up so that it’s livable.

So we’ve got before and after shots of the room so far, with and without paint.

Yesterday it stormed all day… the clouds couldn’t decide between snow and rain so it did it all, snow, rain, freezing rain, wind… it was a pretty icky day! I took some pictures of ice on trees last night… they didn’t turn out as well as I’d hoped, but I’ve put some of them on here anyway.

The view from the window of the spare room while I worked on it.
My footsteps outside when I went to take the dark pictures that didn’t turn out so well.
Blurry branch covered in ice.
Look at all those white patches… putty, sanding, primer… yeah. Good times.
iPod stereo.. .yeah, baby!

And introducing the beautiful Oakwood!

My Transparent Life

I recently decided to commit to living a transparent cyber life. I realize that’s a concept that’s foreign to many, but I feel that it’s sort of a ministry thing for me… opening up my heart and mind for God to speak through me, for others to learn and be challenged, for me to learn from others, for others to ask questions and criticize if they need to, etc.

I prayed over my keyboard the other night, that God would speak and teach through it, with me as his hands. Day before yesterday, I made four commitments:

1) I commit to being transparent.
2) I commit to admitting that I don’t have all the answers.
3) I commit to writing about things that don’t always have happy endings (and things that are difficult to read and write).
4) I commit to presenting challenges and to expanding the worldview of my readers.

This blog is also to get me in the habit of writing more, with the goal of writing magazine-length articles and seeing where I can go with that.

So keep coming back, people… let’s do it together!