A Wii Bullet of Prayer

I still have an affinity for playing Mario Kart on the little purple box, since it was my first real love affair with a gaming system.  However, when I have access to friends and the Wii version, I enjoy it a great deal.

In the Wii version, if a person is really stinking it up in last place, she sometimes acquires a "bullet" as an item.  It's a magical bullet, capable of pulling her wee little kart through the perils of whatever course she's on, and into a place where she can finish not dead last.  It's like the "star" item in the purple box version, but even better--no steering is necessary.  It's a burst of speed and one has only to relax until the bullet slows and the kart is again powered by her own hand.

Today felt a lot like I was on a bullet.  I don't know if there was some intense praying going on, but it was a wonderful day.  I had to be at class early, realized I'd forgotten to do an assignment for another class, and didn't have my textbook with me anyway.  But it was still good.  

The "yay" for the day started with a message from Hohu, who told me she understands all my previous diatribe and shared a bit more of her life.  She's one of those unexpected blessings, since, really, I don't know her.  She once made an interesting comment on a friend's Facebook wall, and her profile was open, which led me in to read an interesting note she'd written.  I sent her a quick message expressing my appreciation for her note, and she wrote back--and added me as a friend.  I'm not even sure how long ago that was, but she's been a lifeline at times I really needed one.

I made it to class, which contained a lecture by a different presenter--who had an accent, talked quickly, did not have adequate speaker coverage in the long commons area, and had a habit of looking away from her mic when she spoke to us.  Interesting, animated lady, but I got nothing out of it.  Rather than whining, I decided to look at the content standards and revamp my curriculum for the upcoming year.  That meant I needed a copy of them, so I ran to another building during a break, hopped online, and started printing.  I checked my email and was suddenly struck by the realization that I had an incomplete assignment--and that my book was nowhere nearby.  I returned to the presentation and saw a classmate who I had just learned is in the online class with me.  He had his book, miraculously, and let me borrow it.  Another classmate was willing to lend me his laptop to submit my work (but our teacher soon resumed her seat near him, so that plan wouldn't work out).  I sat in the back of the hall and crammed.  With a supposed 45 minutes left in the presentation, I headed back to the building with Internet access and began submitting my homework.  Another classmate texted to say that the presentation was done early, so I ran over, retrieved my belongings, and returned to the computer.  I got that assignment completed before noon, which I hope hope hope was the actual deadline.

"A" has tried to work out a lunch get-together with me for some time, and today finally worked.  He brought me pizza, and we sat outside in the shade and breeze on campus.  I loved the company, we talked about saving trees by using paper (long story, but the gist is that paper is made from trees that are planted for that purpose; unanticipated deforestation does not occur based upon our paper consumption), and really, it was cool that someone cared enough to bring me lunch on my birthday.  Who knew a three dollar pizza could make one so happy?  That really was another big "yay" in my day.

Other people had input in the littlest ways, but meant so much to me.  Maybe God's point in my recent social woes was to grant a big dose of humility and gratitude.  And they're starting to stick--thank God!  Today was a fantastic bullet ride.

Boo Yay Yay Stall Boo Yay

There have been a few stories in the news lately in which amusement park rides are not good things. One girl lost her leg/foot; another kid actually got decapitated. I think my emotions have been on those same amusement park rides.

Tuesday was a "boo" day, as evidenced by my sorry state of blogging and the long-time-coming need to do so.

Wednesday was a "yay" day since CLE texted me an invitation to join people I like and do things that I like. (How strange the timing, too, that it was something he'd mentioned earlier but hadn't thought to do until that day.)

Thursday was a "yay" since I texted a friend and said "I NEED HUMAN CONTACT" and was obliged quite kindly.

Friday was a "stalled" sort of feeling, with its evening being comprised of "obligatory" socialization--being around people I enjoy, but not in my optimum interactive environment. Still an enjoyable evening.

Saturday contained its social "boos," but it was much easier to deal with them based upon the previous days' interactions. My social tank was full, and I could coast. I also embraced the new form of Yahoo mail and found that my cousin was online. We chatted for an hour (the third time in our lives we've interacted that much), and due to that conversation (and others), I think I'm going to buy a Macbook.

Yesterday was a definite "yay," containing a conversation in which a friend and I moved from teasing to sharing frustrations to, well, my being vindicated from a previous post's "not following through with a responsibility" issue. It was huge, in that one moment, for this friend to volunteer to clear my name.

Kdel and I kayaked after church--our "anniversary voyage," of sorts, since it was two years ago almost to the day that she first got me out on the water. We even found ourselves at the same lake as that original time, and, being smarter, I used sunscreen this time. (My knees and thighs are great, my shoulders are fine, but there is now a definite distinction, highlighted in pink and white, of where my tank top was and was not.)

BH has moved out of town but was back for a bit yesterday afternoon. She connected with me, and I was able to wander around a park with her and her family. Little DDH is almost 11 months old and, though able to totter around, was content with my holding him. I wanted to switch him from my right hip to my left after a bit, but one of his hands was on my shoulder and the other was on my wrist. There was no way I was moving that child; the moment was too special. Despite DDH's adorableness, it was also fantastic to see BH. She's one of those "birthday friends"--the kind who makes you feel special as you reach another milestone in life. She'd brought a present for me, since she knew she wouldn't see me on the actual day. It was an "aww--you remembered" moments that was a definite "yay" on the roller coaster.

CLE informed me of another gathering later that night, and I got to play Mario Kart with "the people." There's only room for four, so controllers get passed around and the guys are quite good at being non-dominant. That's not "non-dominating," because they kick my butt most every time--but at least they share the gaming time. My favorite moments come when the peanut gallery gives input--"If you pull up on the controller, you do a wheelie and go faster. Okay--THERE--do it!" When it works, and I win, I am most delighted and most grateful.

Our host and hostess also have a four-month-old, BabyG. She's becoming more interactive, more attentive. I loved her giddy expressions last night when her aunt leaned down to get close to her face. As L moved in, BabyG just started getting squirmy in eager anticipation of the attention.

If you stand with empty arms for long enough, BabyG's mother will ask if you want to hold her. Of course! Eventually, BabyG dozed in my arms while I watched ARG unlock more features of Mario Kart and listened to the others playing fiercely competitive card games around us. It was perfect. Contentment and companionship.

Today is another stall. The one day a year that a person is allowed to think the world revolves around her, is perhaps also the most depressing when she realizes it doesn't. Tomorrow is my birthday, and I plan to utilize the opportunity to spend it with my parents and grandparents. It seems that there are bubbles of friends--friends who care and friends I hang out with. Spending time with my parents and grandparents means playing cards, and the en vogue game is one in which equal numbers of players are needed. Thus comes the dilemma and the accompanying Smack of Singleness. I have to find that "Number Six." The Friends Who Care are most likely the only ones I can talk to and say, "Hey--do you want to hang out with my parents, grandparents and I?" But the reason they don't fall under the Friends I Hang Out With category is that they're married, out of town, have kids, etc. They are lovingly entangled. On one hand's worth of digits, I can count people who fall into both categories in some amazing way. Of those, only one is in town this week. Of course I extended the invitation to be the coveted "Number Six," but was turned down in a way that made me wonder if the person realized the significance of the day. It's not just any day; it's my birthday; hang around with me; be my friend; let me enjoy your company. It's kind of hard to say that to a person without being whiny, so I'll blog it for the three of you who have actually read to this point.

Last Wednesday really was a huge turning point. It wasn't so much CLE's texted invitation, but the timing of it. God and I had big talks that Tuesday night, and it wasn't until we were straighter that He let CLE into the equation. A few days later, I asked CLE what had prompted his text that day. I'm not sure if I've shared this blog address with him, but I know at least one member of his family has it. Had someone said something? Someone prompted...? CLE said it was just that he had remembered he wanted to include me in events. He said it wasn't anything cosmic or supernatural. So it wasn't a person. It was just the day after I felt more frustrated and lonely than I had in a long time, that he "happened" to reach out. To me, that is "cosmic" and "supernatural." It's the King of the Universe saying, "Hey--I still care about you." And through this past week, I've been able to see that.

Emotional Update

Does it make much sense to defend my whininess by whining?  Can I add to yesterday's posts the frustration brought about last week--that because someone else didn't follow through with her promise, I couldn't keep my commitment to a responsibility assigned by her?  That internal war of "I didn't follow through" followed by "She didn't keep the agreed-upon conditions..."

Stress!  I almost cried at "WALL-E" today, and did tear up when a friend told me she had to put her family's dog down.  Why am I so on edge?

Oh, AND...

I had to file a fraud alert because some of my files were stolen from the bank.

On the plus side: I went to the local liquor store on Saturday night to buy vodka. The checkout lady knew I was new when I asked where the vodka was; she replied, "See up there on the wall above the shelves, where it says..."

"Aah, yes--where it says VODKA... Thank you!" Off I went.

When I returned with the small bottle, Checkout Lady virtually refused to hand me a pen until I'd slid my ID across the counter to her. Then came one of my favorite comments of the week: "You're a bit older than I would have guessed..." It wasn't exactly a compliment, but it was a complimentary comment. Due to that interchange, I shared my vanilla-making secret with her: if you put a vanilla bean in a bottle of vodka and let it sit for a few weeks, it makes better cooking vanilla than you can buy in most stores.

It still felt strange to walk across the parking lot with a little brown paper bag...

It Had to Come...You Knew That, Right?

After the whining and moping of earlier this evening, I realized that other factors had compounded my frustration. A minor one is now solved...I hope...

Do you ever get something in your head that you can't let go of? I'd thought the movie "WALL-E" would be interesting to see if I got the chance. Then I mentioned it around friends, and one seemed particularly interested in going. That got the idea stuck in my head: the little group of us would go.

Only, it didn't work out that way. I made a tentative plan and didn't hear anything back from the others. I made another suggestion, which didn't work out for one of them. The negatory response didn't include an option for another time, so I wondered how much further to go. How does one be an effective communicator without being pushy?

In the meantime, it seems that other people I used to spend time with have already seen the movie. So, not only does that make it quite difficult to find accompaniment, but it also smacks of "I didn't get invited."

Tonight's cheap night at the theater, and I tried to get a different set of friends lined up. Both offered their "maybes," and then neither worked out.

The point isn't the movie at all, though I'm beginning to hate it. The point is, I really wish I fit somewhere. Where _does_ an almost 33-year-old non-bar-hopping single female fit in a small town?

And that's really not the point of this at all, though I've let myself start crying again.

When, through my tears, I ask God "WHY?", He reminds me of others who are lonely and others who want or need my attention. I spent time with my grandparents tonight, and afterward, called another friend. Seven years ago, I babysat her infant son in the church nursery. He hadn't yet reached the crawling stage, and the other inmates were all toddling. Therefore, he was my watch, my charge, the little creature with the soulful brown eyes. And now, I have a "date" to see "WALL-E" tomorrow.

It's Been a While

I found B's comment today--the "Where are you?" one. Sweet B...

I love living in a small town and being an hour or so away from a bigger town that supplies most anything else I could "need." I love that the evening rush hour lasts twenty minutes and consists of, at most, five minutes of idling time. I love safety and the ability to bike or even walk to any place in town if needed.

Then come the times I want to flee--not necessarily to a bigger city, but away from the scenes I don't like here. I don't like not belonging. I don't like listening to event anecdotes from people who hang out with people I used to hang out with. I don't like hearing of their fun times, and knowing I wasn't included.

The more alone time I have, the more time I have to wonder why I'm alone. Contacts and adorable blond highlights seem to have been pointless, which indicates something worse: the problem is with my character.

Well. Doesn't that just suck?

So, B, dear, this possibly accounts for my lack of blogging. If my words have a negative slant, they should be leading up to a positive ("I thought blah blah blah, but then I realized blah blah, and that was good!"). Or they should be funny. And right now, they're neither. My closest friends are married with families, which means our situations aren't the same for both conversation and scheduling.

I've heard, "You're young and single! Have fun!" Okay. With whom?

And I wondered why I'd gotten so stinking autonomous...