Are You There God? It's Me, Dawn

This is a response I sent to a guy who I'd been very interested in...and who I thought was very interested in me.  That is...until he broke up with me!   This is the guy who told me one week that he saw us together forever...and then broke up with me the very next week.  Hmmmpft!!  Anyway, he's been emailing, but not calling or anything and I (surprise) got a little feisty with him.

Hey BlahBlah,
Here's what I think: you were feeling guilty about being such a jerk to me and decided to contact me to assuage your conscience.

So...I'm not mad at you. There...feel better?

I feel sorry for you. I feel sorry for you because you let me go. I feel sorry for you because I cared so much about you and you didn't appreciate that. I feel sorry for you because you were too stupid to realize what a good woman you had. I feel sorry for you because even after you were such a jerk to me...I was willing to give you another chance. I really, really feel sorry for you...you screwed up.

But now I see that you still don't get it. If you got it...you would have called by now. If you got it...you'd be begging for me to give you another chance. If you got it...you'd haul your butt up the highway to Small Town and explain to me FACE TO FACE that you want another chance.

My dad told me long ago that a man can't be stopped when he really wants something. So it's very clear that you don't really want me.

If what you needed to hear is that I'm not mad at you...then, I'm not mad at you.

If what you needed to hear is that I'm willing to give you another chance...then you'd better get in your car and ask me yourself.

Otherwise...leave me alone.

Dawn

What do you think?  Too much?  Not enough? 

I'm not a cusser, so that was out of the question, but I wanted to make sure he understood that emailing and texting wasn't going to cut it.

I need friends.  I mean, I'd like a man, but right now?

I need friends.

I think I've forgotten how to do that.

Most folks my age are married with little kiddos, so we're just in different places in our lives.  I'm not against hanging with families, I think there's some good stuff there for me...but, sometimes my little heart can't take it.

I need ladies that I can hang out with.  Talk about God with.  Talk about fine men with.  Ideally, we could talk about fine, Godly men!  I need friends that I can watch tv with, cook with, go out to lunch with...folks who would go and shake their collective booties with me.

How long does it take to make new friends?

I wrote this last year about this time...it still rings true for me.

A few years ago, Switchfoot had an amazing song that declared that we were meant to live for so much more than we were settling for...it was actually quite a popular song. So popular that some folks didn't even know that the members of the group are Christians.

That song always resonates within me when I hear it, which is decently often as it's on my iPod. What exactly is this "more", you ask? Well in my opinion it's more than being:

*Republican

*Christian music exclusionist

*Anti (abortion, gay, sex)

*Moral police

*Teetotaler

I know some of my friends are scheduling an intervention as we speak. It's okay guys, I still love God! I still love Jesus! I'm just not so sure about this religious institution that we've created. Those bullet points up there are what I think of when I think of the stereotypical American Christian.

If I'm not a registered Republican, am I not a Christian? I'm not a Repub as a matter of fact, but neither am I a Democrat.

If I like secular (*gasp*) music, am I not a Christian? I'm a teacher and I think I'm pretty good at it...I don't teach at a Christian school, does that mean that I'm wasting my gifts? Just because a singer chooses to use their God-given gift to sing R & B instead of gospel doesn't make it the devil's music.

If I'm going to support legislation against abortion, am I then prepared to take care of the single mothers and orphaned babies? I'm not saying abortion is right, but sometimes we're so arbitrary...even the Bible says to take care of the widows and orphans. If you're a placard-toting prolifer, then what are you doing to help those moms and their kids?

If we're going to tell folks they shouldn't have sex before marriage, outside of marriage, with folks of the same gender, or even think about it...how do we address that big, huge pink elephant in the room? Single Christians are getting preggers, Christian marriages are falling apart due to adultery and porn, Christians are struggling. This institution of ours has got to address this issue, the "just say no" campaign has failed.

Oh snap, I know this one is a humdinger. If I want to have a beer, or a glass of wine...aren't I still a Christian? Do we add to what the Bible says when we look down our noses at our friend who wants to responsibly imbibe?

Being a Christian is more than issues, it's more than the fact that I'm going to Heaven...that I'm saved.

It's about what I'm living for while I'm down here.

I think that's why I've been feeling blah. I've got an acceptable faith...I want a radical faith. A faith that changes me and everyone I encounter.

I'm unhappy with the religious institution, so now I've got to decide how I can affect change. How I can be a different kind of Christian.

Because I was meant to live for so much more.

My pastor got me Sunday morning.  You know how sometimes you go to church and you learn stuff and it’s nice.  Then other times you go and you’re like, maybe I’ll need that one day…but right now that just doesn’t make sense.

This morning?  Got me.  It was about giving our burdens to God.  About God being strong where we're weak.  I know it sounds cliché, but he was talking about the thing that you just can’t get past.  You love the Lord, you know He loves you…but there’s just that thing.

For me, it’s thinking men are crappy.

I loved my granddad…but he continuously cheated on my grandma and had another child (we think it’s just one) with some other lady.

I love my dad…but I remember waiting into the wee hours of the morning with my mom.  Waiting on him to come home.

I love my brother…but he’s just lost his right put his kids to bed each night and get them ready for school every morning.  Because he couldn’t keep it in his pants.

So what’s a girl, who loves the men in her life (but is tremendously disappointed by them), to do?

I want to believe in man-kind…but when the men I care about the most, who I love the most, who I most want to please…when they show themselves to be low…what am I to do?

I want to believe in man-kind…but when the men I care about most, care so little about the women they’ve promised to love and cherish forever…why should I believe that men aren’t crappy?

I know what the Bible says about how we're made in his image...yada, yada, yada.  *sigh*  And yes, I realize that those are only three men out of the millions on Earth...so what's your point?  I can't get past it...it's my weakness.

So that’s my thing…what’s yours?

It may come as a surprise...especially to those who met me while I lived in Texas.  But I'm rather outdoorsy.

I'm still the one who, while not a big shopper, can tear up the Banana and J. Crew when necessary.  Since I've always been involved in athletics, I've put a premium on looking "like a girl" when I can.  Makeup...hair done...cute shoes...nice clothes.

But don't get confused...I'm still a small town girl.  One who's more comfortable driving the two-lane highways through cornfields than sitting on the eight lanes of gridlock in Houston.  I'd rather be wearing layers of flannel than the four inch mini-skirts that are the style now.

So when my boss said how she gets sad during hunting season, I looked at her like she was crazy.  Would she rather Bambi walk out onto the highway and destroy her car?  Or worse yet...Bambi and her fam die in the woods because there's not enough chow?  Hmmmpft...I've had Bambi jerky and it tastes good. 

I suppose this is on my mind because I was on the highways of Wisconsin all day today and passed car after car on the side of the road and that's a telltale sign.  Hunting season.  If you look closely enough, you can see bits of the bright orange that signifies one hunter to another.  I'm sure if I got back on the highway now, I'd new the fruits of their labor...Bambi strapped to the roof of their truck.

I don't hunt, but I sure am hoping to get some leftovers!

I'm pretty sure that the devil works for Brach's...


And he makes these dang things!  Evil...just evil.

(Can I have some more please?!)

It was an absolutely beautiful morning here in Small Town.  So beautiful, in fact, that I woke up and went for a run instead of lifting like I'd planned.

It was awesome!  Crisp air...leaves crunching underneath my feet...squirrels darting and chasing and hoarding...waves to the other runners as they went by...unleashed rottweilers...wah?!

That's right...a rottweiler running around town without a leash on!  Talk about my heart in my throat.

This is what scares me away from running every couple of years.  I'll be doing really good and then I see a stray and completely freak out.

Don't tell me that your dog is a nice dog...I don't know that when I meet him on the street (and, quite frankly, I really don't care).

Don't tell me that your dog plays with your two year-old and is very gentle...pit bull owners say that all the time too.  And then they're on tv talking about how their dog tore their baby's face off.

And I don't wanna hear about how your dog loves everyone...I don't love him.  Ha!

Of course I love dogs that I meet that are on leashes (and after I've asked the owner if their dog will bite my arm off) and will pet them into a frenzy.  But random dogs?

Uh uh.  *shaking head*

So I guess it's back to the gym for me.

So I think I may have figured out another reason that I'm still single.

I have an odd fascination with squirrels...I always stop for them.  And not just when they indecisively cross the street.

I just like watching them in their everyday life.

Sooo...it's just me and the squirrels.  *sigh*

How did it get to be Friday?!

I'd said to myself that I would post more often this week, but obviously that didn't happen.  Why?  I'm always at work and my job is unpredictable and has irregular hours.  Hence...no posts.

Then that got me to thinking about my job and how I never thought it'd monopolize so much of my time.  Why does it monopolize so much of my time?  Because I've got nothing else to fill my days with, so I work. 

No husband...put in extra hours.  No kids...watch a little more game film.  Still new to town, so no friends...cover for folks who have families and other obligations that tear them away from work.

What it ends up boiling down to is a lack of balance.  I'm always at work, thinking about work, or preparing for work.  Sure, part of it is the nature of the job...but part is just because I've got nothing better to do.

With apologies to the feminists out there, I never saw myself as a career woman.  I knew I'd have a job, but I figured that's all it would be...a means to financially support a household.  I'd much rather be at work with part of my brain focused on what I'm making for dinner tonight for the fam.

But, of course, the grass is always greener, yada, yada, yada.

I wouldn't mind checking out that other grass.

One of the things I've always loved about Wisconsin is our complete schizophrenia. 

I mean, if it's nice out...we're outside doing something.  Whether it's hunting, fishing, running, biking...whatever.  But if there's beer, we're drinking.  If there's fatty foods...obviously, we're eating.

Every Sunday morning after church, I go to this cool neighborhood for coffee, people watching, and window shopping.  At any one time I can see folks drinking a beer, eating an ice cream cone, or working out like a crazy person.

Yes, that would be after the 8:30 am service.  So maybe the schedule is...running/biking at 10 am, beer at 11 am, then top it all off with ice cream at 11:30, if you want to hit the trifecta.

I love the fact that folks who are clearly serious runners are whipping past people who are equally serious about their beer drinking and cheese curd consuming. 

Hmmm...I suppose that explains why folks up here put on the chubs during the winter.