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September 23, 2006

Lauren W. on Singleness. This post goes out to my single friends that I have failed in talking to much lately. Call me, friends. I miss you.

This, I think, is what happens next. First all your friends get married, and then they all start having babies. Hannah and three friends from college, too. I will become a regular at Baby Gap.

Sometimes, when I am praying with Hannah, I look down and catch the glint of her wedding band, and get consumed by jealousy. When this happens, I take a shower or go for a walk and try to think, calmly, about what exactly I'm jealous of. The obvious things: sex, and waking up next to someone every morning and, on the days that I forget that sometimes married people are lonely too, I feel jealous of the companionship, of the togetherness, of the intimacy. And I am jealous because, in getting married, and then again in having kids, my friends become adults, while I am stuck living like a college student, going on occasional dates to random New York restaurants, and writing a dissertation that, eventually, three people might read.

But I look at Hannah and I am also jealous because I believe that marriage is a school of sanctification. Sanctification doesn't require an affair--there is plenty of sanctification in the faithful, ordinary daily grind of lots of marriages, of Randi's, and Jeff and Amy's. But I have seen clearly the holy work done in Hannah and Jim's home this year. Being stuck with each other, being forced to stumble through her treachery and his heartbreak, has made them better spouses and better Christians. I have watched their marriage and I have seen that God has been who He said He would be. "He will be like a refinder's fire or a launderer's soap. He wil sit as a refiner and purifier of silver; He will purify the Levites and refine them like gold and silver." He has used their marriage as soap.

I praise God for his soapiness, and then I get so jealous that I think I might literally start to see green. It is the old question, the pathetic question: Why them, Lord? Why them and not me?

....Later,...I get it. I get that Hannah's pregnancy is my own school of sanctification. God is sanctifying Jom and Hannarh through marriage and parenthood, but He is not just blessing them and leaving me out in the unblessed cold. He is using my ridiculous jealousy and my endless self-pity to sanctify me.

I will forget that, of course, at Hannah's baby shower. Sitting through that baby shower, I will forget about the sanctification and only remember the pain. But then I will come home, and I will pray, and I will remember. I will remember that God does not cause our suffering, but He uses it. I will remember that He is using that baby shower to somehow form me into the person He wants me to be.

Winner, Lauren. Girl Meets God: On the Path to a Spiritual Life. Chapel Hill: Algonquin Books of Chapel Hill, 2002. Pp. 278-81.

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September 18, 2006

Today at the Department Store

Little girls buy toys: Barbies, Polly Pockets. Clothes.
Women buy toys: kitchen stuff! candles and cute couch pillows!

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The counterfeit testing marker makes a light mark on real bills and a Dark Mark on counterfeit bills. Hmm. Any comments, HP-philes?

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Things I learned in College #840

Duct tape: good for taping ducts. And copy paper boxes full of books that tend to split open when you fill them that full of books.

Duct tape: not so good for waxing lip hair. It exfoliates the lip a little too much.

Posted by The Newest Worker at 10:57 PM | Comments (1) | TrackBack

September 13, 2006

9-11

I didn't post on 9-11. What can one say?

But I wept when the morning shows televised the moment of silence at 8:49.
I wondered where the last five years have gone.

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Funny Names for a Cat

I really want a cat, but I'm allergic to cats. So I fantasize.

Here are some funny names for my imaginary cat:
Margo
Gladys
Pete
Celery
George
Muriel
Charlie
Betty

That's all for now. I can certainly add more later.

Posted by The Newest Worker at 02:26 PM | Comments (0) | TrackBack

Living at Home

When I graduated from college, I moved back home to live with my parents. I moved right back into my old room, back into the old life. I taught at my old high school (I do not recommend that...it's tough to move into a role that just isn't there for you...imagine going to faculty meetings with colleagues who were your teachers just four years ago!).

Living with your parents would not work for a lot of people. Many of my college friends were surprised at this turn, and those who also moved back home had a tough time. But you don't know my parents. Or, if you do, you understand. It was really great! I had a good year with Mom and Dad. They're really neat people, and I loved getting to know them better and developing a neat friendship with them.

Then I moved to Hawaii. I was very lonely there and spent a great deal of time on the phone. I had to leave before the school year was over, so I moved back home after 4 months.

I lived with Mom and Dad for 2 years minus 4 months. Then I moved to Central Pennsylvania. Dated the Dude (long distance dating). Traveled a lot (drove to Western PA and Center Hill often) and called folks often on my long drives. Got engaged. Moved. Got married.

I kept in close contact with Mom and Dad while I lived in PA and dating the Dude. They knew what was going on even though they lived 1400 miles from me. But because they lived so far away, I also maintained close contact with my church in PA. They were also a family to me.

I was telling this story to a church-lady friend here in Chatt. She was especially excited about the part where I lived at home after I graduated from college. She's of the opinion that young women should live at home till they marry. She is also of the opinion that people should marry young. She and her husband will likely not allow their daughter to go far away for college, because then she'd have to live in the dorms instead of at home.

I have yet to really pick her mind and understand where she's coming from on these convictions, but I have plans to do that very thing. In the meantime, I think on it a lot.

Living at home worked really well for me. It would not have worked as well for my sister. She did live at home for a semester after she graduated, but then she moved to Chatt to 1) plan her wedding and 2) be near her fiance. However, she has also spent extended amounts of time living in Mom and Dad's house. The month before her wedding. 8 weeks while her husband had an internship in Denver. 4 weeks just now. And it goes well. This is 99% because my parents are awesome and 1% because we all miss each other so much when we're not together that we really value the Together Time we do have.

Ok...so here's the question...what do you think of this issue? Here's a summation of the issues (as I see them. Please draw other issues to attention if you see them):

And as you answer, don't be afraid to be politically incorrect, or to criticize my political incorrectness. Really tell the truth. Call a spade a spade if you see one.

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September 09, 2006

Auto Flusher

I hate auto flushing toilets.

When I was little, I was afraid of the loud-flushing public toilets. I think I was afraid I'd get sucked in, but you know how irrational fears are: there's no logic. It could just as well have been that I was afraid of the dragon-like roar that resonated in the cement-block emptiness that was the public restroom, but who knows? I was a fraidy little kid.

I had one measure of control: I could flush when I was facing the toilet, thereby keeping the object of fear directly in my line of vision. I'd huddle against the door, watching the beast as it roared and sucked at the water in the toilet. Finally the noise subsided, and I'd calmly open the door and leave the stall.

But now (shudder) some genius has invented self-flushing toilets. They sneak up on you from behind (no pun intended) and growl while they threaten to attack you just when you are most vulnerable. I hate them. The worst one I've ever encountered was in the Pennsylvania Welcome Center, on I-70, just east of Wheeling, West Virginia. Somehow the ladies' room there is designed to be the perfect resonating chamber and the commodes are particularly fierce, angrily announcing that they will attack--or at least frighten--you.

I hate auto-flushers. Hate them.

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Smell

I wrote this originally on April 3. Since then, he's developed a better sense of smell, his wife has had the baby, and things are still truckin' along at the Department Store.

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My manager who I mentioned a while ago is back at work. He's not allowed to ride his bike yet (he's an avid biker and misses it) but he will be.

His sense of smell is damaged so he only tastes the four basic flavors: salty, sour, sweet, and bitter.

Imagine biting into a brownie and only tasting sweet. Why bother with the chocolate at all? You might as well spoon some sugar right onto your tongue and get the same effect.

Think of all the different shades of flavor there are because we can smell. Aaaaaah. Now, be thankful because you can taste them all, even yucky things like raw eggs and coffee without any sugar and cough medicine (I once had to take a liquid antibiotic because the pharmacy was out of the pills. It was awful, and I just couldn't imagine it being as bad as I made it seem, until I took the next dose. Worse than I remembered! Eeeeeew!) even the yucky things are ok if you know you can have a delicious crispy omelet with a nice smooth cup of coffee, or a watermelon slice, or some Mississippi Mud (or Alabama Mud) or pot roast. Creamed corn. Ham sandwiches. Tart-sweet lemonade.

Think of that next time it's time to take some medicine. You have to have bitter sometimes, in order to have the savory and sweet and crunchy. It's an ok trade off, and the bitter lasts only a moment.

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September 05, 2006

Oh ha ha

The Dude just called me. He was in a rush because he has to go to cross-country practice now.

At the end of the call, he said, "Gotta run. Bye."

Posted by The Newest Worker at 03:24 PM | Comments (1) | TrackBack