Are You There God? It's Me, Dawn

He was the first guy to tell me I was beautiful.  The first guy to tell me he loved me...and not because he wanted something, but because he really meant it.  So I sit and wonder if that's ever going to happen again.  If I'll ever be able to be so open with one person, if I'll ever be able to love someone so completely.

Then I wonder if I even want to do that.  I mean, this guy completely crushed me.  I doubt that  I could have been a bigger puddle of tears, sadness, and melancholy when we broke up.

But he now represents the last person (who's not related to me and therefore required to love me) who hung out with me because he wanted to, who loved me because he wanted to, who actually chose to be around me. 

I'm hoping that when I meet the real one--because obviously the first one wasn't the real one--I'm hoping that I let him love me.  That I'm not so scared of getting my heart trounced that I run away from him.  I hope that I let him be the real one. 

Oddly enough, lately I've had a lot of "one's" around, but I can't tell if any of them are the real one yet.   There's a nice one, a tall one, and a young one.  While it's nice to have options, I just want the real one to present himself.

I just hope I recognize him. 

It was huge.  Mammoth.  It almost made me crash my car.

What was it?  A mosquito.

I know you're thinking, "what's the big deal?"  The big deal is that these crazy mosquitos down here in Texas are ruthless and relentless.

By the time I'd driven the five minutes to get lunch, I had three bites from that bloodsucker. 

And it's not the first time this has happened.  I have no idea how those things get into my car, but in the summertime with temps over a hundred degrees, I can at least take solace in the fact that the bug will get fried inside the car.  Now it's only in the 80s...that's a cold, winter day for the mosquitos.  They love it!

So when I saw the helicopter-sized bug in my car, I freaked out a bit.  If a police officer had been behind me, I'm sure they would have thought I was drunk.  I was bobbing and weaving in my lane, trying to drive (I have a stick shift), swat at the mosquito, and roll the window down all at the same time. 

The bugs are a big downside to living here in the south...the upside?  It's 8:30 in the morning right now and it's sixty degrees.  As much as I complain about the heat down here, even I've got to admit that winter in Tejas is pretty awesome.

If only those darned bugs would go away.

P.S.  Congrats to those Cardinals...they were better than my Tigers. 

I was talking to a friend last night about jobs. He's working on his MBA and of course I'm a teacher. He was asking why some teachers complain about their salary, because it's not so bad.

I agree that our salaries aren't too bad, it's just that the ceiling on our's is a lot lower than his will be with an MBA.

But...I wouldn't give up my intangibles. Here are a few, but certainly not all.

Hugs: I get tons of hugs from fourth and fifth graders...it's almost become like required sustenance.

Holidays: nothing like a random holiday (President's Day!) to turn an average week into a glorious four-day week.

Kids: I work at a K thru 12 school, so it's super cool to watch the kids grow up through the different stages of life.

And finally...

SUMMER!: two months without anything required from me...and I still get paid? Sign me up!

I love my job. I may never get monetarily rich from it, but what I gain in life riches can't be measured.

I'd been thinking about this topic first thing in the morning, then a co-worker brought up the same issue.

The issue of comfort in relationships.

It's nice.  Nice to know that the guy's going to call.  Nice to know who you'll be doing something with on the weekend.

Don't get me wrong.  I like the butterflies of a new relationship as much as the next girl.  I like the fun of waiting for the calls and seeing their number on the caller id.  I even kind of like stressing over what to wear on dates.  But enough already.

I'm ready to move beyond the butterflies and to the comfort.  The problem is I can't do this by myself.  The whole comforting relationship thing requires a ready and willing man.

*echoing*  Hello-o-o-o-o-o!  Anybody out there-ere-ere-ere-ere? 

Contestant:  I'll take, "Stupid Things People Ask Dawn About Her Hair" for $300 Alex.

Alex:  Alright, the answer is, "Yes."

Contestant:  What is, "Do you wash your hair?"

Alex:  That is correct!

So I'm out with a friend and her boyfriend the other night and they were chatting and I was just sitting there bopping to the music, kind of in my own world.  Then she was like, "Dawn, do you wash your hair?"  I had a million smart alecky answers for her, but I just said, "well, it is hair...so yes, I wash it." 

Amazingly enough, she caught my tone and tried to backpedal, "oh I just thought that when you first started dreadlocs that you couldn't wash them."  

I tried to bail her out in front of her man and said, "I've had these for seven years, so I haven't just started them, but even then, I washed them.  But now if a White person, such as yourself, wanted dreadlocs, then I don't think that you could wash your hair."

And I added before she could ask, "and I don't put beeswax in my hair.  Just Pantene." 

Signing off...still mildly offended (I mean, even dogs get their hair washed for God sakes!), but with squeaky, clean hair. 

I wonder if Albert Pujols got teased as a kid with that last name.

Notre Dame won again after being down late into the game...sheesh.

Go Badgers!

My brother came to visit today!

He took me out to a nice lunch.

Thinking about getting a massage...been real tense and tired lately.

Even though Pudge Rodriguez isn't pudgy anymore...he's still pretty hot.

The UCLA football coach couldn't coach women...he's much too attractive.  Distracting!

Go Tigers! 

Me: *yawn* Time to get up!

Bed: NO!!

Me:  Seriously, I have to get up now.

Bed: Come on, just stay with me for a few more minutes.

Me:  Alright...let me hit the snooze button so I don't go back to sleep.

Bed: Thanks girl, plus...you've already got that spot all warmed up.

Me: (nine minutes later) Gotta go, gotta go!

Bed: Are you sure?  Don't you want to stay here for just a while longer?  You've been saying how you were tired.

Me:  But I've gotta work.

Bed: I'm just saying...if you're tired, you should stay here a while longer.

Me: Okay.  *hits snooze button*

Bed:  Hee hee.

Me:  (nine minutes later)  I'm serious now!  I've got to get up.  I have to pray, get breakfast, watch the news...

Bed: Yeah, yeah, yeah.  You'll have plenty of time for prayer if you skip breakfast and just go straight to work.

Me: That's true. *hits snooze button*

Bed: *mumbling*  This is just too easy.

Me:  (nine minutes later)  I'm not listening to you!  I'm getting up right now.

Bed:  That's fine. I'm sure you feel really rested...not tired at all huh?

Me:  Well, I still am kind of tired, but who isn't?

Bed: You could stay a while longer.

Me:  *bolting from the bed* I'm leaving...now! 

Bed: Dangit!  That was still pretty good though.  *evil laugh* 

Can't sleep...again.  As usual, there are too many thoughts running through my head.

I had to talk to a girl today about her committment, because she's missed a lot of practices and matches.  I'd heard that she'd been complaining about playing time and that didn't make sense to me.  So I had to explain to her the correlation between committment to the team and getting onto the court.

And that got me to thinking about the connection between committment and faith.  Jonathan actually wrote about this on his blog yesterday.  He talks about that committed faith that some have, that faith that just doesn't make sense.  Even when it seems like God is saying, "I just don't like you all that much", or worse yet, when it seems like He's not saying anything at all.

But in spite of that feeling, their faith remains.

I believe that God knows that we're gonna screw up, He just wants us to be committed to the cause.  He doesn't want us to be like this girl on my team who wanted the benefits without putting in the effort.  Most folks who've played sports long enough have been in a position of not playing as much as you want.  You put your faith in your hard work, hoping that the coaches will see it and reward you.

I think it's similar with God.  We've got to believe that it pleases Him when we do (or at least try our best to do) what we know that we should.  Our lives may not be showing us the immediate results that we'd like, but we have to believe that He's happy with the effort.   Because faith does require effort...it's a verb, not a noun.  Faith takes action.  It's not passive. 

I believe that when we show that committment, it is God Himself who strengthens us when we're at the end of our ropes.  When it seems like we should have had just about enough.

So I dig in my heels. 

So I keep on efforting.