For those who are on the forefront of Facebook gossip, here is my statement. For those that aren’t, you (hopefully) heard it here first.
Written Friday, August 24th, The Day It Happened.
I did it again. If there were a how-to book on doing relationships poorly, I
I don’t have much time to write this, but I AM online, so I really should take the opportunity to write.
I found out last week that the plates expire on the vehicle I’ve been driving, which belongs to my mom, and I don’t really want to keep driving the beastly red van if I don’t have to. The dilemma begins when you throw in the fact that I’m planning to head to Indianapolis sometime next month.
Jimi has his very savvy father, L, to help him with these kinds of decisions. Together, they’re a team I wouldn’t want to get in the way of when they’re on a mission. Here, in GodRock, I don’t have that kind of direct ally in the word of everything grown-up and official and financial. I’ve just been floating along somehow, though most people my age have had loans and debt for years ’cause university tends to do that to you.
I need wheels. But do I get one here or wait till the US? What will taking a car over the border entail? Insurance? What do I get if I renew the plates on the van for another month? Do I put up with more gas-sucking??
With help, I found a good deal today on a mechanically sound 2000 Sunfire. I like it. I think it’s a good decision.
Can I get a loan? Should I get a line of credit?? Or the biggie: Who is brave enough to co-sign for me? Is it wise to take on a car payment when I don’t know what my income will be this fall? Or do I trust all that to the Big Man Upstairs?
Like I said, I feel like I’m floundering. Got some solid wisdom or the guts to co-sign?! Let me know!
Looong weekend with Boyfriend (Jimi) was great… we did a lot and had a lot of fun and even had a mini-meltdown where we were both annoyed with each other about where we’d eat out our last night together. I cried. I really didn’t want to do anything at all with him for a while, but he didn’t let me run away. He picked a place and it was good and we talked it through and all was good and we are the better for it.
Living with S & K has been great… they are way too good to me and I’m totally spoiled. The only kind of annoying part but also kind of a life-saver this summer is that I’ve given up my wireless internet for dial-up. Annoying because I’m a bit of an addict, but life-saving because I won’t have time for it this summer anyway.
I finally started training for my second job last night. Looks like I’m the oldest server they’ll have on this, their first summer in business. I’m stoked about this place, an English pub called The Brew’n Arms which will be serving traditional English food, including curry, steak and kidney pie, fish n’ chips, Baps (sandwiches on crusty rolls), mushy peas, and much more. I’m going to learn how to make a proper “cuppa” (that’s tea), and yes, the water has to be boiled every time and the kettle warmed and the tea is loose, not bagged. Of course, we have lots of beer and definitely Guiness! Me being a bit of a techie geek, I’m very excited about the touch-screen POS (Point of Sale) system we have for ordering the food, organizing our tables, and cashing out our customers… yeah. I’m a dork.
I’m now 26 years old and have officially bid “adieu” to 25. For my birthday, I had people over for a campfire complete with hot dogs and marshmallows and drinks, etc. Nothing too dramatic, too complicated, or too self-centered. Simple and fun… a great way to celebrate another year of life!
I’m listening to MIKA (Life in Cartoon Motion), Myriad (You Can’t Trust a Ladder), India.Arie(Acoustic Soul), Israel Kamakawiwo’ole’s version of “Somewhere over the Rainbow”, and Frank Sinatra’s “The Coffee Song (They’ve Got a Lot of Coffee in Brazil)”. I’m reading Eats, Shoots, and Leaves, and Mansfield Park by Jane Austen, and I’m puzzling over Luke 17:7-10.
You?
Boyfriend is coming for the weekend!
He’s coming tomorrow!
He’s gonna be here for my birthday!
He’ll be staying till Tuesday!
As I’ve ranted before, this time in my life, too, shall pass. I won’t have to live with my mother forever, and this cancer phase will cease to be The Way It Is. Question is, “then what?”
Everyone, somehow without even knowing who everyone is, agrees that being home is the best/right thing for me now, but what’s the best/right thing for me then?
Or the questions I almost dread to ask, “What if the Next Thing isn’t ‘ministry’ or ‘missions’? What if it’s going to school and working? What if it’s moving to another country, for a guy, and even maybe marrying him?” Do I cease to be a “missionary”? Will I have given up my calling? How do I retain the feeling of sanctity, or holiness, when I regard my life’s path, as I have in the past several years? Is it important? Is there something I might be missing?
I’m confident that with these impending decisions, as with many major ones before them, I’ll know which path to take. Yes, it seems mystical perhaps (Jimi certainly thinks so), but it’s what I’ve grown into over the past several years.
Major decisions have often been accompanied by anxiety, but usually it’s just a matter of time before I get to a place where I’m confident of the direction I should take. Yes, it’s possible I had already opened the door and simply stepped along the path, but still.
After a few months of deliberation (granted, it’s not much in the grand scheme of things), I’ve decided that I definitely do want to marry Jimi (and the heavens opened and a mighty host of angelic beings descended and lovely harmonies were heard resounding throughout the earth). He is an amazing, unique, indescribably perfect-for-me man (See my other Jimi blogs for more girl-sigh-fodder). I don’t want to lose him, hence my decision to move to Indy, hopefully in a handful of months.
The thing I haven’t totally reconciled in my heart/mind is how moving to Indy in order to be near the man I love affects my “calling” and my otherwise “missions-y” bent in life.
When I left after having served only 6 months of a 2-year commitment, having previously been sure I’d stick around for 3-5 years, I never thought my path home wouldn’t turn me right back around towards Kona, missions, and YWAM; towards a life of living by faith and donations, continent-hopping, and great teaching.
I miss it, obviously, and I’m not ready to write it off. Not sure I’m even comfortable with a “maybe” I’ll go back to Kona and/or YWAM. I’d kinda like to know for sure before I make any truly binding decisions (“Till death do [me] part” from a dude).
Might it come down to laying it aside (and trusting God with it, hoping he’ll give it back to me) in favour of the man and a few years of work and school, even if it’s in one place (drudgery, drudgery, drudgery), that place possibly being the beautiful Indianapolis?
This decision, too, shall pass, and other, scarier ones will takes its place (To buy a house or not? To have a kid in 2 years or not? To get a loan or not?) Meanwhile, I continue to deliberate.
Today was mostly spent fighting coxxys pain in a Buick LeSabre, going 85 miles per hour on I-69 N (for the anatomically illiterate, “coxxys” means “tail bone”). Yes, my NBS (Numb Bum Syndrome) is back in fully aggravating force (read history here), and I’m starting to hypochondriacally research possible (actual medical) conditions. Ack!
But that’s not what I’m here to write about. I was driving for several hours on I-69 because it was the end of my long and prodigious weekend in Indianapolis with Jimi (My Cyber Boyfriend). He’s whom I’m here to write about tonight.
This is one of those moments when I wonder what he’ll think of what I’m about to write, and what my family will think, and what my friends will think, and what his family will think, and what his friends will think, and you get the picture. Not that it’s a big deal, just that when one is being transparent on the Internet, one needs to consider such things so as to offend no one nor disclose inappropriate information. Again, not that I believe I’ll be offending anyone, nor do I plan on disclosing inappropriate information. This post is not that kind of juicy!
I once said to Jimi that I hope to be able to show the world glimpses of the deep and introspective, the sensitive and well-rounded sides of him that few get to see or appreciate and many would never assume from his often outrageous behaviour.
One of the unfortunate things about having a long-distance relationship that has been built mostly through online communication is that it is difficult to convey one’s true emotions. I’ve tried “emoticons”and “smileys”, but they are mostly just silly and shallow and fall very short of what I’m really feeling. All this to say that, when I get to spend rare and coveted “in-person” time with my man, stuff that may have aggravated or confused me as a result of chatting through IM takes shape, finds balance, and adds another facet to the intriguing man that is Jimi. An intriguing man that I fall more in love with via every interaction.
As we lounged on a hawaiian-patterned blanket on a grassy knoll in a quaint park yesterday afternoon, soaking up the sun’s rays and grazing on each other’s company, my heart was basking in contentedness. The intimacy of sharing a few lazy hours doing absolutely nothing but talking and laughing and cuddling with Jimi intensified a growing awareness that my heart has never been so at home.
He is someone I can easily and confidently trust, laugh with, laugh at, cry with, be angry at, make up (and out, heehee) with, be quiet with, talk about God and the world with, learn with,
grow with, shop with, eat with, work hard with, be lazy with, be broken with, and you get the point by now I hope.
He is not intimidated by my neediness: he is eager to redeem it through loving me (that’s the simple explanation). He doesn’t always do what I might expect: he surprises me by going above and beyond, with my happiness and well-being in mind. He doesn’t play into my (occasional?!) manipulative whims: he tell me straight up how it is, firmly and tenderly.
Like me, he can be cynical and sarcastic; enjoys a wide range of music; hates religiosity and legalism; enjoys digging deeper into truth, God and life; is comfortable talking about “taboo” subjects; loves technology; is aware of pop culture trends; has opinions about fashion; and likes to cook.
Unlike me, he can be uber-realistic where I like to be somewhat more idealistic. He plans for a year from now whereas I plan for this week. He thinks I should get a pair of white pants or shorts, but I’m a little skeptical. He takes every opportunity to shock people, but I like to work up to it. He brushes his teeth once a day and hasn’t been to the dentist since fourth grade; I’ve had over 25 cavities filled since sixth grade and can’t leave the house or go to bed without brushing my teeth.
He is Jimi. When we talk about other guys in my life, the simple truth always emerges: they’re not Jimi enough! He is Jimi, and he’s my Jimi, and I love him, and this is the beginning of my promise to tell the world of the greatness that is Jimi.
Will spring ever come to Huron County? I’m seeing pictures and hearing tales that spring has arrived to other places around North America but why the heck isn’t it showing its very welcome face around here? Unless, having been away for so many springs in a row, I forget what the coming of spring looks like. I’m expecting at least a little warmth… are you with me?
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Last night I decided I wouldn’t do something I had wanted to do and something that could turn into a dream for me and something that others were encouraging me to do, something that I kinda feel chicken for not being brave enough to do. However, it’s a good decision. Not a decision I love, perhaps, but a wise one, my current circumstances considered. I’m hoping and praying for another chance, someday.
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I’m a mean cynic sometimes. Sorry.
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I’ve had creator’s block lately (other than the envelopes and the desk thing from last post), if there is such a thing. If there isn’t, I’m establishing such a thing right now. Making 20 cards has taken me more than two weeks… I swear it’s not that I’ve been slacking, although, of course, I’m also known as Queen Procrastinator.
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I like complaining about Pepsi. I used to not care, but after living in Mexico, Coke-drinking capital of the world, where Coke is made with cane sugar instead of refined sugar, you learn to recognize it for its reigning greatness (that’s the product, not the company as a whole). Pepsi costs half as much in Mexico, and with good reason… its inferiority is blatantly obvious there! The difference between the world’s two top-selling colas is forever imprinted on my tastebuds, and a Pepsi fan I will never be.
If you serve me pizza or anything else that’s hot and greasy and you have neither Coke nor any suitable replacement, but you do have Pepsi, I’ll drink it–after complaining. Because I like people to know, you especially, that Coke is superior in taste. And I’m a cynic like that.
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I need money. For the first time in my life, I’m feeling the crunch of needing to make my own money in order to pay necessary bills. And that’s without having any major ones! Seriously, jobs have pretty much just fallen into my lap in the past. Having to hand out resumes is intimidating!! I am learning to suck it up, however, much to Jimi’s relief
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My salvation might be in question. That’s right. I was in a bar on Friday night. Listening to my amazingly talented friend Nathan play secular songs! And I even sat down and stayed. For a few hours!
It gets worse: I had a beer. Yes, you saw correctly, I bought and drank one of those beverages fondly known as “cold ones”, the ones associated with bush parties, dancing, and devil worship.
God have mercy on my soul.
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Have I mentioned that I’m a cynic? I’m told the Internet likes cynics. I think I’ll stick around for a while.
Occasionally, when met by a problem, if I’m motivated, I can come up with a viable solution. It might not be pretty or professional enough to earn me the cover of Martha Stewart Living or even Real Simple, but it accomplishes its purpose, if only temporarily.
Of course you know I’m leading up to something, which obviously is an account of how and why I think I qualify for the title of Creative Genius. I doubt Martha Stewart would agree, but just let me revel in my small-time problem-solving skills for a minute, okay? OKAY?
Now then, Exhibit A: Envelopes.
A few weeks ago, I started making cards. To sell. Previously, I had made cards that were 4″ by 6″, but for some reason, this time around, I decided I wanted to make square cards. 6″ x 6″ square, to be exact. I didn’t think anything strange about wanting to make 6″ square cards. I didn’t sit and wonder, “Does anyone else make 6″ square cards? If so, are there adequately-sized envelopes readily available?” Hindsight being 20/20, I now know that I should have sat and asked myself those very questions. After creating several designs and posting them on the Internet to sell here, it wasn’t until someone asked me to make 20 for them to sell in their store that I began to think seriously about envelopes. Can’t sell cards without envelopes. It’s just not done, not on this side of the world, anyway.
I started by looking online. I could get 6.25″ square envelopes–just not cheaply. So I expanded my search; to the local scrapbooking store. I found 6.25″ square envelopes–only they were made of vellum (shiny, transparent paper) and cost $1.40 apiece, or three times as much as the expensive regular paper ones I had found online. My other options were exactly 6″ square (meaning they’d be 0.25″ too small) or 7.5″ square (meaning my cards would be swimming in them, which is just not done when it comes to selling cards). I came to the conclusion that I would have to broaden my search even further: to the city I went. I went to a Michael’s. I went to a Staples. I went to a party supply store, another office supply store, a Giant Tiger (which now sells scrapbooking stuff, FYI), a Wal-Mart, and another scrapbooking store. All to absolutely no avail, and complete with some derisive body language on the part of one of the scrapbook store ladies, convincing me of my utter envelope ignorance. Commercial venues, you have failed me!
I was quite discouraged when I returned home from my forays envelope-less. When I bemoaned my failure to my boyfriend via AIM, his response was that I should make my own, duh! At first, I was defensive: “Do you know how to make envelopes? Do you know where to get the special glue that people can lick-and-stick later? Uh-huh, that’s what I thought!!” I didn’t get far before he put me out of my misery by suggesting that I seek the wisdom and assistance of The Almighty and Omniscient Google.
Lo and behold, I found this and this.
After the purchase of a ream of 8.5″ by 14″ paper (8.5″ by 11″ just wouldn’t be big enough, obviously) (thanks, Mom) and a significant amount of drawing and measuring and cutting, I created the only 6.25″ by 6.25″ envelopes to be had ’round these parts. And they are a pretty fine piece of work, if I do say so myself, all tapered and professional-looking! This is one of those instances in which I long for a digital camera that actually worked so I could show you what I mean. Guess you’ll just have to take my biased word for it.
For future reference: The time and effort needed to make envelopes from scratch aren’t worth it.
Note to self: Make cards that fit into envelopes that are readily available.
Exhibit B: My Desk
Like most desks, mine was meant to be used with a chair. For most people, this wouldn’t be cause for concern. Then again, most people don’t have tailbone issues quite like mine. Lately, it has gotten to the point where I’m only comfortable sitting for certain lengths of time, which are always varied, even if I’m switching from a stool to a chair to an exercise ball. I believe in the benefits of the latter, but it’s not a simple solution for my case. Not sitting isn’t an option, either: most things I do at home involve this common but apparently unnatural position (crafting, writing, eating, reading, etc.).
This afternoon, I decided I’d had my limit of prolonged sitting, at least for now, and I set out to find a solution. Being the frugal and impatient person that I am, I sought objects to prop up my existing desk instead of creating or buying a new one. One Rubbermaid container and one milk crate later, I have a standing-height desk instead of a sitting-height one.
After typing most of this post standing up at my renovated desk, now my back is complaining. It seems no solution will be fool-proof, but I’d like to believe that with the addition of a tall stool, and the options being to stand, sit or half-sit, half-stand, my bones and muscles will be much happier. (Again, sorry that I have no picture to show you)
Would you agree with my self-proclaimed verdict, that I’m a Creative Genius? Guess it doesn’t matter much, seeing that I’m convinced and I’m the one doing the writing here!
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!
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.
A Transparent Life 