A college classmate shared an article entitled "I Suck at Being a Friend Right Now." I knew I needed to read it because sometimes I have a hard time extending grace to my married friends. After reading it (click on the link!), I remembered something I had written in my journal. It's a little incoherent (b/c that's how I roll) but it's my reminder to myself that singles and marrieds are in vastly different seasons of life, and yet the gap between the seasons is extremely thin.
Do the unthinkable and let me not forget the feeling of walking in black mirrored fog.
It can feel like an "us" singles, "them" not. But there is a VERY thin veil between the two, with no predictor when one of us will slip into "the other side." Even I, as I walk with you along the illusion of an unending garden walkway, unending walkway while "they" have the estate's manor, may suddenly, while yet griping at my interminable status, run smack into the middle of a concrete step, look up, and see the house only a pace away, hedged on either side and pulling me through its open door with nary a chance for a backward glance.
It feels interminable. It looks unending. And indeed it may seem our lot to tread the garden path and take advantage of living this life to the full.
But never presume that those magically sucked through the illusory veil felt less surprised than you, felt less keenly the disparency between "us" and "them," and did little but live to deserve the switch. So you, walking the VERY SAME PATH of the women before you, may one day stub your toe on the manor's step and have your life changed.
And then, what fools we will have been, thinking we would never reach the attainment of "them." What are they but us in a different season of life? What are we but a parallel life of theirs?
At the church potluck yesterday, I gazed around at the tables. So many people I know from other churches, now all of us attending the same church (what happens when you live in the same community all your life). But they over at that table, while my age, are married, having kids, and are able to interact as peers with other marrieds. And those, over there, while seemingly so much older than me when I was little, are now practically peers, if I could somehow bolster my confidence and bridge the gap between "me single," "them married." Instead, I sat with other single girls my age (goodness, I'm 31) and some teenagers. It's all in my head, I know it. It is a work in progress, to rise beyond the fact that my living conditions look fairly similar to how they did a decade ago and join a world where I may not be married or have kids but I am a peer with life experiences and the ability to exchange conversation just as well as if I did. Pathetic much? I'll get the hang of this by 40, I'm sure. :)
Monday, August 29, 2016
Book Review: Come With Me
Oh, now that's ironic. Posting a book review after my last post. :-P I have been reading some really good books lately (Dignity and Worth: Seeing the Image of God in Foster Adoption, for example). Don't really want to write about every single one though, so I'll stick with the one I received for free, from Bethany House Publishers, free in exchange for an honest review!
In Come With Me, Suzanne Eller, an author with Proverbs 31 ministries (for those who follow Lysa Terkeurst, etc.) shares what God taught her as she spent time in the Gospels. Each chapter is loosely devoted to one of the 12 disciples. I say loosely because I felt the correlation between the disciple and the lessons the author extrapolated from that disciple's life were a bit of stretch at times. Still, I have never studied the disciples, so some of the connections she made really were insightful. The overarching theme of the book I think would be living as a true disciple of Christ, abandoning all for Him. Each chapter has a different focus.
It took me a long while to make it through this book, I'm not sure why, but this review is waaaaay overdue (it came out in May!), but when I did get around to opening up the pages, there would often be a nugget waiting for me.
Each chapter ends with a handful of "Taking It Deeper" questions (for cross-referencing Scriptures and reflecting), a main Scripture verse, a short prayer, and bullet pointed ideas for "Living As a Disciple." This is not a theological book. It is one woman sharing her journey of faith in an instructional way, like the older woman teaching the younger woman, only not in a "I have it all together" way but in a "let's seek Jesus together" way.
I am giving this book 4 out of 5 stars.
In Come With Me, Suzanne Eller, an author with Proverbs 31 ministries (for those who follow Lysa Terkeurst, etc.) shares what God taught her as she spent time in the Gospels. Each chapter is loosely devoted to one of the 12 disciples. I say loosely because I felt the correlation between the disciple and the lessons the author extrapolated from that disciple's life were a bit of stretch at times. Still, I have never studied the disciples, so some of the connections she made really were insightful. The overarching theme of the book I think would be living as a true disciple of Christ, abandoning all for Him. Each chapter has a different focus.It took me a long while to make it through this book, I'm not sure why, but this review is waaaaay overdue (it came out in May!), but when I did get around to opening up the pages, there would often be a nugget waiting for me.
Each chapter ends with a handful of "Taking It Deeper" questions (for cross-referencing Scriptures and reflecting), a main Scripture verse, a short prayer, and bullet pointed ideas for "Living As a Disciple." This is not a theological book. It is one woman sharing her journey of faith in an instructional way, like the older woman teaching the younger woman, only not in a "I have it all together" way but in a "let's seek Jesus together" way.
I am giving this book 4 out of 5 stars.
"Intentional gratitude is a course corrector. It turns away temptation. You aren't asked to pretend that there aren't challenges, but to take a step back and tackle them in a different way." (p. 127)
"There's nothing wrong with dreaming. Many times those dreams are a catalyst to make a difference or to take a huge step of faith. Your dreams can encourage you when getting there is difficult. . . .
Dreaming is worthwhile unless it makes you unhappy with where you are or who you're with, or it creates resentment with God's timing versus your own. . . .
Should we dream big? Absolutely. Should we obsess, worry, wrangle, or plot to get what we want, or to have what someone else has? Probably not the best plan." (p. 130)
Saturday, August 6, 2016
176: why I have a hard time getting rid of books
...in which I delve into the psychological connection between me and my books.
What does my library mean to me?
Like, honestly.
After writing a long, rambling, very probing draft on the subject, here's my rewrite.
My library of 489 books (plus the one I just bought at the Christian bookstore) is my trophy. It is a monument to my perceived self, proof that I am intellectual, that my interests are varied, even if several of the books remain unread, or bookmarked 32 pages in with boarding passes and napkins, or are relicts of my college days.
Owning books is virtuous. Owning good books is even more virtuous. I have imbedded this fact on my psyche and, with it, great pride in my 489 (plus 1) collection.
To get rid of a book feels like relinquishing part of who I was or who I want to be. The desire to be a woman who is more than a popular fiction reader, someone who is intellectual and deep and reads classics. And I do love an occasional dip into philosophy or history or Shakespeare! I do! But I'm probably never going to read a 751 page book on John Adams even though I am interested in who he was. And although I bought that still shrink-wrapped book on Sam Houston while at the San Jacinto Monument in Houston, Texas, and therefore have a sentimental attachment to it, realistically I'm never going to read 531 pages on him either. To get rid of a book is admitting that I will probably never pursue that potentially interesting topic.
Counseling interests me, and Seeing With New Eyes is supposed to be a really good book on the topic, but right now, that's not where my interest lies. But it sure looks good on a shelf!
It looks good.
I want to tell you about all the different kinds of books (not just history!) I own just so you'll be impressed with me.
Yet, they are like a weight around my neck.
I am afraid to let books go.
Afraid to let go of the memories--I bought American Women and World War II on the U.S.S. Midway while venturing out on a day trip by myself in San Diego!
Afraid to admit the unvirtuous fact that I like the Basil Rathbone movies better than the Original Illustrated Sherlock Holmes short stories.
Afraid to let go of books that would add greatly to that ideal future homeschool library.
Afraid to close a chapter and say I'm no longer interested in that subject.
That is the salient point:
I am not interested in them right now.
What do I actually read? What if, instead of holding onto books I'm interested in and take pride in and that I bought with great excitement for amazingly cheap prices, what if I culled my library down to what I actually read? It would be far more meager. Maybe not less interesting, but less diverse. Less to boast about. And with some of my favorites now on my Kindle app, not an accurate show-off of what I read.
What do I actually read? Now. This person today in real life in real time. If I got rid of some of the books I probably won't ever read, would I perhaps find my true self? Who I am now? Would I find something beautiful behind the lie that my identity is wrapped up in the gargantuan amount of looks-impressive-on-a-shelf books I own but don't read? Would I find that I can be an interesting, intelligent, culture-shaping individual without owning 489 (plus 1!) books?
This is my psychological connection to my books. Basically pride and fear.
P.S. After writing this draft, I gathered together 43 books to let go of. I am trying very hard to not let my emotions kick in and change my mind. I also have been reading the new book I bought--because that's what books are for.
What does my library mean to me?
Like, honestly.
After writing a long, rambling, very probing draft on the subject, here's my rewrite.
My library of 489 books (plus the one I just bought at the Christian bookstore) is my trophy. It is a monument to my perceived self, proof that I am intellectual, that my interests are varied, even if several of the books remain unread, or bookmarked 32 pages in with boarding passes and napkins, or are relicts of my college days.
Owning books is virtuous. Owning good books is even more virtuous. I have imbedded this fact on my psyche and, with it, great pride in my 489 (plus 1) collection.
 |
| Maybe it all started with my favorite Disney princess and her love of books |
To get rid of a book feels like relinquishing part of who I was or who I want to be. The desire to be a woman who is more than a popular fiction reader, someone who is intellectual and deep and reads classics. And I do love an occasional dip into philosophy or history or Shakespeare! I do! But I'm probably never going to read a 751 page book on John Adams even though I am interested in who he was. And although I bought that still shrink-wrapped book on Sam Houston while at the San Jacinto Monument in Houston, Texas, and therefore have a sentimental attachment to it, realistically I'm never going to read 531 pages on him either. To get rid of a book is admitting that I will probably never pursue that potentially interesting topic.
Counseling interests me, and Seeing With New Eyes is supposed to be a really good book on the topic, but right now, that's not where my interest lies. But it sure looks good on a shelf!
It looks good.
I want to tell you about all the different kinds of books (not just history!) I own just so you'll be impressed with me.
Yet, they are like a weight around my neck.
 |
Afraid to let go of the memories--I bought American Women and World War II on the U.S.S. Midway while venturing out on a day trip by myself in San Diego!
Afraid to admit the unvirtuous fact that I like the Basil Rathbone movies better than the Original Illustrated Sherlock Holmes short stories.
Afraid to let go of books that would add greatly to that ideal future homeschool library.
Afraid to close a chapter and say I'm no longer interested in that subject.
That is the salient point:
I am not interested in them right now.
What do I actually read? What if, instead of holding onto books I'm interested in and take pride in and that I bought with great excitement for amazingly cheap prices, what if I culled my library down to what I actually read? It would be far more meager. Maybe not less interesting, but less diverse. Less to boast about. And with some of my favorites now on my Kindle app, not an accurate show-off of what I read.
 |
| Is this me, or is this who I think I should be? |
What do I actually read? Now. This person today in real life in real time. If I got rid of some of the books I probably won't ever read, would I perhaps find my true self? Who I am now? Would I find something beautiful behind the lie that my identity is wrapped up in the gargantuan amount of looks-impressive-on-a-shelf books I own but don't read? Would I find that I can be an interesting, intelligent, culture-shaping individual without owning 489 (plus 1!) books?
This is my psychological connection to my books. Basically pride and fear.
P.S. After writing this draft, I gathered together 43 books to let go of. I am trying very hard to not let my emotions kick in and change my mind. I also have been reading the new book I bought--because that's what books are for.
Wednesday, August 3, 2016
175: the discomfort of a crush
You like someone. And (of course) they don't like you back. How do you know? Because he could do something about it if he did and he's not. Logic. Doesn't always penetrate the emotions. You re-hash your interactions (even if it was literally just a "hello, *name*) and groan as you remember that thing that made you look ridiculous (I can't believe I said that!!!), those words that sounded pushy (I totally turned him off!), or uninterested (I did not! Oh no!). You let the pull and salt wash over you a couple days, and then, when you expect things to start feeling better (because emotions come in waves), I don't know, a hormone tweak or something makes the wave drag on longer than it should. These uncomfortable feelings of unrequited like should be ebbing. I want them to ebb. This is painful. No, not painful. Just very uncomfortable! I remember things I said, things I did. So so so stupid! Ack! Augh! Argh! Recoiling in amazement at my own dunce-ity and then going back and looking at the disaster all over again. I was a complete flirt! -Lie- I made a complete fool of myself! -Lie- He would never like me because I am so inadequate. -Lie- He probably has some secret weakness that I wouldn't want to deal with anyway. -Lie- I'm going to forget about him. I don't need him. I'm better off without him.
And so instead of embracing the discomfort, we do everything to make it go away. Which I'm all for, as long as we don't deceive ourselves that it's somehow our fault or his fault or that we don't want him anyway. Cuz that's what I do. I start lying to myself to make me feel better.
Maybe we should embrace the uncomfortable truths.
Such as, I like him.
He probably doesn't like me.
It's not because I'm horrid.
It might be he simply doesn't like me. *ouch* *shrug*
That isn't stopping me from liking him.
I'm going to have to live with this discomfort until it dies down. Not feed it, not rehash it, not beat myself up over it--just live with it.
And the comforting truths.
I did my best to get him to like me back.
I may not have performed perfectly, but the right guy will be attracted to me, despite my awkward or ridiculous moments.
There really are other good guys out there. I might not know any at the moment that seem as well-suited for me, but God has proven to me before that whoever I currently like isn't the end-all of amazing guys.
What to do then? I don't know. Give it over to God...again. Acknowledge He can bring romance out of clods and rocks. Confirm your trust in His power and the beauty of His doings. Remind yourself He loves you. Basically, lay before God what we already know and believe above and beyond our temporal wishes. Testify to ourselves what we have witnessed of our God.
And then, ride out the discomfort a little longer.
And so instead of embracing the discomfort, we do everything to make it go away. Which I'm all for, as long as we don't deceive ourselves that it's somehow our fault or his fault or that we don't want him anyway. Cuz that's what I do. I start lying to myself to make me feel better.
Maybe we should embrace the uncomfortable truths.
Such as, I like him.
He probably doesn't like me.
It's not because I'm horrid.
It might be he simply doesn't like me. *ouch* *shrug*
That isn't stopping me from liking him.
I'm going to have to live with this discomfort until it dies down. Not feed it, not rehash it, not beat myself up over it--just live with it.
And the comforting truths.
I did my best to get him to like me back.
I may not have performed perfectly, but the right guy will be attracted to me, despite my awkward or ridiculous moments.
There really are other good guys out there. I might not know any at the moment that seem as well-suited for me, but God has proven to me before that whoever I currently like isn't the end-all of amazing guys.
What to do then? I don't know. Give it over to God...again. Acknowledge He can bring romance out of clods and rocks. Confirm your trust in His power and the beauty of His doings. Remind yourself He loves you. Basically, lay before God what we already know and believe above and beyond our temporal wishes. Testify to ourselves what we have witnessed of our God.
And then, ride out the discomfort a little longer.
Sunday, July 24, 2016
174: meshing homeschool and public school expectations
Yesterday and today (mm, it's past midnight, so yesterday and the day before yesterday) I volunteered at a homeschool convention so I could get in free and listen to speakers and buy really cheap books downstairs where all the leftover books from the June curriculum swap are available for donation only. I left with 68 books. . . and with some really good thoughts and ideas shared by the speakers.
I wrote a status on Facebook tonight that seems to accurately encompass my thoughts this eve. I re-post it here so I won't lose it. :)
"I'm thankful I work in a school where my class size is so small and the administration is so flexible that I can implement homeschool-style methods and even be Spirit-led/seize teachable moments. I am thankful that this season of life is the next best thing to being a homeschool mom myself. I am thankful that I can have a job that is fulfilling and encourages creativity and grows skills that I will always benefit from having learned. It's weird though because I feel like I ride the fence between the world of homeschooling (my heritage) and the world of public schooling (our "competition"). Between "let God lead you as to what is best for your child" and "do not be bound by the world's educational goals" on one side and "excellence is following research-based best practices" and "how does this align to state standards or common core?" on the other. Both sound good. Both are good. But they ARE different. They approach education very differently. And then there's my little classroom, where I mesh all the ideas flying in my brain and the voices of both sides telling me what to do, and figure out what I'm capable of doing with my abilities and what I'm expected to accomplish. 3 weeks til I go back."
I wrote a status on Facebook tonight that seems to accurately encompass my thoughts this eve. I re-post it here so I won't lose it. :)
"I'm thankful I work in a school where my class size is so small and the administration is so flexible that I can implement homeschool-style methods and even be Spirit-led/seize teachable moments. I am thankful that this season of life is the next best thing to being a homeschool mom myself. I am thankful that I can have a job that is fulfilling and encourages creativity and grows skills that I will always benefit from having learned. It's weird though because I feel like I ride the fence between the world of homeschooling (my heritage) and the world of public schooling (our "competition"). Between "let God lead you as to what is best for your child" and "do not be bound by the world's educational goals" on one side and "excellence is following research-based best practices" and "how does this align to state standards or common core?" on the other. Both sound good. Both are good. But they ARE different. They approach education very differently. And then there's my little classroom, where I mesh all the ideas flying in my brain and the voices of both sides telling me what to do, and figure out what I'm capable of doing with my abilities and what I'm expected to accomplish. 3 weeks til I go back."
Friday, July 8, 2016
173: date-turned-Mormon processing
I want to write more. Originally this blog was supposed to be a place for me to write my thoughts without trying to tailor it for an audience. Maybe I can get back to that more.
So many thoughts.
To tell you the truth, when I see the date-turned-Mormon profile pic, I still feel a pang. The day before he was supposed to turn Mormon I talked with him again on the phone and told him about two articles I read by Mormons about Mormons. I told him what I had learned and why I disagreed. At his request, I sent him the articles and also added the Scripture verses I had brainstormed refuting the main points I had culled from the articles. He said he'd read them. But he still became Mormon. I haven't heard from him again. He joined LDS singles groups on FB.
When we had lunch, he had talked about Mormonism, but I didn't think he was considering joining them. I thought I was talking to a believer--I didn't realize I was engaging in apologetics. When I told him on the phone that I didn't want to touch Mormonism with a ten-foot pole, I didn't mean that I was ostracizing him because I couldn't philosophically deal with someone becoming Mormon. I meant that I couldn't go there relationally, that emotionally I couldn't even continue a friendship with him because it would be too much a temptation to crush on an unbeliever. I am too weak; I HAD to set my boundary. But did he recognize that? Is there anyone in his life that can still dialogue with him about what Scripture says? Not to tell him he's wrong or that Mormonism is stupid, but to truly dialogue with him like he so enjoyed.
The church. Where was the church as the LDS missionaries drew him in, counseled him? One of the main things we talked about in our lunch was how Mormons disciple new converts and keep them accountable and follow through. And the church is so lacking in that area. I know personally that if I want accountability or fellowship, I have to seek it. And I have the spiritual maturity now to be able to seek it. But what about someone who has only be saved a few years? Why are we--why am I--not encouraging one another to follow the Lord? Oh sure, we "fellowship," as in, we hang out, we talk, we "do life" together. But how often, how RARELY, do I discuss with someone how they are doing spiritually, how they are doing at obeying Scripture's commands to love one another, and then follow through the next time I see them, instead of dropping it like the only point of bringing it up was to have a deep conversation, not cultivate TRUE Christian fellowship? And how defensive and shallow do I feel when someone asks me what I am reading in the Word these days or some other spiritually probing question? Are we a community of believers, or are we really just a social club? And what part am I playing in making it one or the other? Because he was looking for something, and the Mormons had it.
What was the draw to Mormonism? That question has plagued me. Because there are similarities. They claim to follow Jesus. But they do not believe that God is God and man is man--that line is blurred--and they do not accept the sufficiency and inerrancy of Scripture. Those are biggies! And yet, they're "moral." When I asked a friend about why he might have been drawn to Mormonism, she suggested that people are drawn to the idea of "secret knowledge" and a more works-oriented salvation.
The one thing that I am challenged with through this is to better live out what I believe. To more fully live out Scripture. If I am going to be a light, then I need to continue to let Jesus take over more of my life and not worry about what is popular (or even what is old-fashioned). My date was not looking for what was popular. He was looking for depth. My prayer is that he becomes disillusioned with the "secret knowledge" in Mormonism and comes back to basic Scripture as truth. Oh, Lord, open his eyes!
I mourn the loss of a possible friendship and the loss of a brother.
So many thoughts.
To tell you the truth, when I see the date-turned-Mormon profile pic, I still feel a pang. The day before he was supposed to turn Mormon I talked with him again on the phone and told him about two articles I read by Mormons about Mormons. I told him what I had learned and why I disagreed. At his request, I sent him the articles and also added the Scripture verses I had brainstormed refuting the main points I had culled from the articles. He said he'd read them. But he still became Mormon. I haven't heard from him again. He joined LDS singles groups on FB.
When we had lunch, he had talked about Mormonism, but I didn't think he was considering joining them. I thought I was talking to a believer--I didn't realize I was engaging in apologetics. When I told him on the phone that I didn't want to touch Mormonism with a ten-foot pole, I didn't mean that I was ostracizing him because I couldn't philosophically deal with someone becoming Mormon. I meant that I couldn't go there relationally, that emotionally I couldn't even continue a friendship with him because it would be too much a temptation to crush on an unbeliever. I am too weak; I HAD to set my boundary. But did he recognize that? Is there anyone in his life that can still dialogue with him about what Scripture says? Not to tell him he's wrong or that Mormonism is stupid, but to truly dialogue with him like he so enjoyed.
The church. Where was the church as the LDS missionaries drew him in, counseled him? One of the main things we talked about in our lunch was how Mormons disciple new converts and keep them accountable and follow through. And the church is so lacking in that area. I know personally that if I want accountability or fellowship, I have to seek it. And I have the spiritual maturity now to be able to seek it. But what about someone who has only be saved a few years? Why are we--why am I--not encouraging one another to follow the Lord? Oh sure, we "fellowship," as in, we hang out, we talk, we "do life" together. But how often, how RARELY, do I discuss with someone how they are doing spiritually, how they are doing at obeying Scripture's commands to love one another, and then follow through the next time I see them, instead of dropping it like the only point of bringing it up was to have a deep conversation, not cultivate TRUE Christian fellowship? And how defensive and shallow do I feel when someone asks me what I am reading in the Word these days or some other spiritually probing question? Are we a community of believers, or are we really just a social club? And what part am I playing in making it one or the other? Because he was looking for something, and the Mormons had it.
What was the draw to Mormonism? That question has plagued me. Because there are similarities. They claim to follow Jesus. But they do not believe that God is God and man is man--that line is blurred--and they do not accept the sufficiency and inerrancy of Scripture. Those are biggies! And yet, they're "moral." When I asked a friend about why he might have been drawn to Mormonism, she suggested that people are drawn to the idea of "secret knowledge" and a more works-oriented salvation.
The one thing that I am challenged with through this is to better live out what I believe. To more fully live out Scripture. If I am going to be a light, then I need to continue to let Jesus take over more of my life and not worry about what is popular (or even what is old-fashioned). My date was not looking for what was popular. He was looking for depth. My prayer is that he becomes disillusioned with the "secret knowledge" in Mormonism and comes back to basic Scripture as truth. Oh, Lord, open his eyes!
I mourn the loss of a possible friendship and the loss of a brother.
Sunday, July 3, 2016
172: online dating bloopers
Christian Mingle had a sale I couldn't turn down. So amid much prayer and emotions (and despite everything I've said about not being cut out for that world) on Easter I jumped back into the pond. As I told one fellow, "It really is nice to get to know other people, even if only for a couple exchanged messages."
One big positive to online dating (if you don't happen to meet your future spouse) is getting to interact with lots of people you wouldn't otherwise meet and be influenced and spurred on by what they write on their profiles or in exchanged messages. I've had some good e-mail conversations with guys I am truly honored to have virtually met.
But sometimes . . . sometimes you just have to laugh and groan.
I didn't know whether to interpret this comment as a bash on my photos or a compliment to my real self--or maybe he was just trying to say not to judge him by his own photos: "I just got my photos approved so you have an idea what I look like. But like myself, I'm sure you look better in person :)"
A homeschool grad in his late 30s made me realize how weird homeschoolers are if you actually write out everything you think, believe, and want, on screen, for other people to read.
One guy's profile name, with extra symbols removed, is "Love Me." Desperate much? I'm not replying to his smile.
With another guy, after a single chat session about the weather and listing where we've traveled, I was offered his e-mail, FB, Skype, and text contact info. Kudos for being pro-active! (no groaning here, just amused surprise)
Another fellow chatted with me and begged me to ask questions about himself so he could prove he was a good guy. I had never doubted he was a good guy, but he was quite put out when I wouldn't agree to call him the next day after our one chat and two previously exchanged short e-mails.
How soon is soon? "hope i can know about you more. beacause im looking for a person with a good heart and soon to be my partner for the rest of my life." Too soon!
First message: "and dont worry im not a bad guy or a stranger :)" I think we define "stranger" differently.
My profile pic shows me hugging my dog with the caption "tormenting my dog?" A guy replied, "If that is tormenting your dog, torment me too!" A little much? Just a little.
I often get the conversation starter "Hey, beautiful." And I ask myself, would he really walk up to a girl and start a conversation that way?
One guy took out his frustration over me cutting off our brief conversation due to a theological difference by asking me when I was last in a relationship. I soooo wanted to write him back and justify my prospectability, but I refrained.
My coworker likes dubbing the guys I write: "Sketch," "Walt" (he liked Disney), "Red Head," "41 year old."
I had put on my profile that I wasn't going to do much on CM until summer (that ended up being a falsehood), so one guy--who actually seemed like a pretty good guy--wrote this introductory message (ellipses his): "I'll wait until you are ready... I love your profile and find you gorgeous sincerely... Your fan right here..." (I'll admit, I might have felt some flutters despite the hyperbole feel.) When I replied and slightly chided him for assuming so much from a few words on a page, he didn't write back and my coworker chided me upside the head for rebuffing a good guy. *sigh* Apparently I've got issues too.
One big positive to online dating (if you don't happen to meet your future spouse) is getting to interact with lots of people you wouldn't otherwise meet and be influenced and spurred on by what they write on their profiles or in exchanged messages. I've had some good e-mail conversations with guys I am truly honored to have virtually met.
But sometimes . . . sometimes you just have to laugh and groan.
I didn't know whether to interpret this comment as a bash on my photos or a compliment to my real self--or maybe he was just trying to say not to judge him by his own photos: "I just got my photos approved so you have an idea what I look like. But like myself, I'm sure you look better in person :)"
A homeschool grad in his late 30s made me realize how weird homeschoolers are if you actually write out everything you think, believe, and want, on screen, for other people to read.
One guy's profile name, with extra symbols removed, is "Love Me." Desperate much? I'm not replying to his smile.
With another guy, after a single chat session about the weather and listing where we've traveled, I was offered his e-mail, FB, Skype, and text contact info. Kudos for being pro-active! (no groaning here, just amused surprise)
Another fellow chatted with me and begged me to ask questions about himself so he could prove he was a good guy. I had never doubted he was a good guy, but he was quite put out when I wouldn't agree to call him the next day after our one chat and two previously exchanged short e-mails.
How soon is soon? "hope i can know about you more. beacause im looking for a person with a good heart and soon to be my partner for the rest of my life." Too soon!
First message: "and dont worry im not a bad guy or a stranger :)" I think we define "stranger" differently.
My profile pic shows me hugging my dog with the caption "tormenting my dog?" A guy replied, "If that is tormenting your dog, torment me too!" A little much? Just a little.
I often get the conversation starter "Hey, beautiful." And I ask myself, would he really walk up to a girl and start a conversation that way?
One guy took out his frustration over me cutting off our brief conversation due to a theological difference by asking me when I was last in a relationship. I soooo wanted to write him back and justify my prospectability, but I refrained.
My coworker likes dubbing the guys I write: "Sketch," "Walt" (he liked Disney), "Red Head," "41 year old."
I had put on my profile that I wasn't going to do much on CM until summer (that ended up being a falsehood), so one guy--who actually seemed like a pretty good guy--wrote this introductory message (ellipses his): "I'll wait until you are ready... I love your profile and find you gorgeous sincerely... Your fan right here..." (I'll admit, I might have felt some flutters despite the hyperbole feel.) When I replied and slightly chided him for assuming so much from a few words on a page, he didn't write back and my coworker chided me upside the head for rebuffing a good guy. *sigh* Apparently I've got issues too.
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| Acadia National Park, Maine |
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