Laughing

In the previous post I wrote that God was laughing at me.

I think I might be laughing along with now. Sheepishly, but laughing.

As Hope mentioned in her comment - free will and choice, not either/or. It's true. It's annoying sometimes but it's true.

And maybe that's what sparks the laughter. Realizing that I'm basically throwning a tantrum. I'm 25 now - I thought tantrums were supposed to be in my distant past?

Apparently not. So I'll go from banging my heels and screeching to ROTFL instead.

Choices, Always Choices

I hate change. I like having security - a steady job, a steady (if small) paycheque, a steady path layed out in front of me...to the grave...

If I am honest with myself I know that the steady path also bores me. The thought of spending my life that way fills me with a greater fear - that I will die unfulfilled because I chose to. Because I chose the easy, safe path.

Fuck!

I hate having to make choices where there is no right answer. Why can't God actually give me direction instead of free will and the ability to choose what I will do?

He drives me nuts.

I'm not sure I'd have it any other way. Difficult human that I am, I would rebel against any path set in front of me unless I set it there myself.

Well, fuck.

Back to square one, and somewhere, God is laughing at me. I know it.

Unwanted Empathy

Today I understand, at least a little, what my mom must have felt all those years Dad was driving truck in the snow and sleet and icy cold.

At least I know my love is stranded in a hotel while the storm rages outside.

Even if he isn't in the city he was supposed to be in right now.

But I'll take stranded far from home over never coming home any day.

Friday the 13th

I've had such a day today.

It's been a good day. It's been a lot of fun. Wonderful. Kind of beyond descriptors.

I convinced a homeschooling mother to read Twilight so her 12 year old has a chance to read it too. She then offered me a job. She had me write my name and number in the back of the book she hadn't yet purchased so she could give me a call and set up a meeting. I'm intrigued; that's why I actually wrote down my info.

I watched my boss get flowers from her significant other. It was sweet, and cute, and so endearing. Especially since I didn't know she had anyone, and she seemed so blushingly shy and thrilled about it all.

I saw a little girl in a plaid pleated skirt, with really cute boots and a tam o'shanter on. I suddenly wanted a little girl that I could dress up in cute outfits. I've never felt a maternal urge before. It's strong. Later I saw a little girl with such red hair, and it happened again. Hmm.

I saw an old man flirt with my manager and he was so smooth and wonderful at it, younger men should take lessons. Although I think it maybe takes a lifetime to learn. He also had a French-Canadian accent, and was talking about a large house, with an ocean front, and a huge library - things that appeal to women who work in bookstores.

I heard a brogue today that made me want to melt.

I slept in and still made it to work on time. It makes me wonder what I do for 45 minutes every morning - I could be sleeping.

I got to see my love again after almost four days apart. He walked in the door and my heart leapt.

I made chocolate chip cookies and ate the dough.

I told S. of my inexplicable maternal urges and he didn't respond. He was busy figuring out tax stuff - I've figured out when to spring things on him from now on.

I had a smoothie from Jugo Juice. It was good.

Ahh. If I had any worries about Fridays mixing with 13's, they ought to be gone by now.

27 Years

Typing that title reminded me of 27 Dresses, a movie that my mom would probably enjoy watching with me, although she'd have a hard time getting anyone who currently lives in the house with her to watch it with her. I don't get to see my family enough and I miss them - something I realized sharply today as I read letters from my sponsored child. Her letters are written by her grandparents, her father, her uncle - whomever she happens to be with that day. She gets to see them all, all the time. I told her she was lucky to have her family so close to her. She's probably too young to understand but that's okay.

It's fitting that I miss my family today, I suppose. Today, 27 years ago, my parents got married in the living room of the local Justice of the Peace. Rumour has it they had a fit of the giggles; that my mother took my father as her awfully wedded husband; that they forgot they needed more than one witness and had to get the daughter of the JP to sign the papers for them. Not what most would call an auspicious start to a marriage.

But hey. They must have done something right. 27 years of marriage is not a common achievement anymore. Probably because it takes a hell of a lot of work. Work that my parents have not always done with the gusto and enthusiasm that they have for it today. There were times when I was small that I was so afraid they'd get divorced and I'd never see my dad again. Or worse, I'd have to choose one of them to live with, and how does any child make that decision? It weighed on my young mind.

I am so grateful to them that I never had to make that choice. That they did do the work, and they did stick it out, and that they are still together today. And happy. They are happy, and that is something too because not all couples who have made 27 years are happy about it. Not every long-lasting marriage is as healthy as my parent's. Not every long-lasting marriage has two partners in it.

That's what my parents are. They are partners, and it makes my eyes tear up - why? Pride? Love? Joy? Probably a bit of all of those. Relief too. It is such a relief to see that in two people. I take a lot of hope from seeing my parents in their lives and their relationship. Nothing, or nearly nothing, is insurmountable in love if you are committed to making it work.

I see them together, knowing each other. My dad looks for something and without asking what he's looking for my mom will tell him where to find it. And she's right, and she just knew what he was after, without being told. I see my dad, loving my mom, and the joy and playfulness that is there makes the world an alright place to be.

It makes me have hope for myself. As a person. As a lover. As someone in a relationship. Possibly as a parent someday.

It gives me hope for the world.

So today - raise a glass with me to my parents, to their 27 years of growing together. May your joys increase. Your love always fill you up past overflowing. And may you share at least another 27 years together. I love you very much.

Notes On My Days

Note 1, at work: I should not have to wrestle with my fruit before I eat it.

Note 2, at home: I have bruised my temple from pressing it so hard when I had a migraine. I had no comprehension of my own strength. And wow, my head must have hurt to not notice that I was pushing my skull in that hard.

Note 3, at work: I don't have time to listen to a lecture on evolution. I'm here to help you find books, not listen to you pontificate on books you already own. Unless I've read them, liked them, and we have a conversation about them. Then I'll spare the time.

Note 4, at work: Some really strange people come in here. Some really strange people read books.

Note 5: Are children getting more spoiled? Or am I turning into an old lady - "Back when I was a kid..."
That's pretty much all I have right now. But I wanted to share it anyway.