I will...

I have been to a LOT of weddings. I have been in a lot of weddings (9 or 10 depending on what you classify as “in”). And, if I have done my math correctly, and accurately assessed my current relationships, I would anticipate that my wedding going days are far from over. And at this point, I don't think it should come as any great surprise to you, that I happen to LOVE weddings. They are kind of “my thing”.

I LOVE love and ritual and strapless dresses. I LOVE standing in front of people, and holding flowers, and listening to proposal stories. I LUH-OVE fancy pigs in blankets and dancing and communal agreement. And maybe most of all, I LOVE lines of gentlemen in tuxedos. (You must have seen that last one coming, right?) But in all my years of nuptial extravaganzas, I had, until last week, never had the pleasure of attending a vow renewal ceremony.

I wasn’t quite sure what to think about this type of invitation at first. It would be kind of like a wedding, but not exactly-- I’m thinking less nerves all around, but also fewer strapless dresses. I had my doubts that this “re-do” would be as romantic or exhilarating as a “real wedding”, but, I agreed to attend because I love these people and their children and the community of faith to which we all belong.

I arrived at the mountain-top where this shindig was to begin and immediately saw the bride and groom, standing together, greeting all of their guests. “TOGETHER BEFORE THE CEREMONY!?!?,” little anal-retentive Kerri screamed from deep inside me. But bigger, happier, Kerri saw the beauty –the freedom-- in choosing familiarity over formality at this particular juncture in life. So I thanked the guests of honor and found a seat on the stone ledge at the back of the little chapel.

Then, at sunset, as the most perfect of breezes passed over us, the pastor began the ceremony and I cried, as is my practice. “Promises," he said, "are a way of hinging yourself to someone else’s future." I cried harder, as also tends to be my practice. I cried remembering my one and only cynical stage in life, during which I came to believe that all promises should be outlawed. Vows, it stood to reason then, were fickle and untrustworthy sentiments dangerously springing forth from some prideful well inside of each of us, pretending to know how, and who we would become in a few moments or months or decades. Lets face it, people make promises all the time with honest intentions and then their dads die or they gain 50 pounds or they move to a new city and meet someone more interesting.

Nevertheless, here we all stood as a congregation watching two people who made promises and who kept enough of them along the way to celebrate 25 years together. They repeated the vows of their youth, agreeing in front of God and these witnesses that if given the choice, they would do it all again; and then they invited us to their home for appetizers and champagne toasts.

I smiled as I arrived at their house realizing that there were no strangers at this reception, meaning no “Some guy at this wedding is going to fall in love with me” fantasies. But somehow the evening in and because of that once troublesome familiarity proved to be quite magical. I am sure the evening air and romantic white lanterns played some part in the night’s dreaminess, but largely it was the company that we kept. No one there was obligated to be my dance partner and yet, I danced. I danced more than usual, if I'm being honest. Because, in this community I am known and I am loved outside of the boundaries of obligation.

These people have seen me in pajamas and bad moods. For goodness sake, some of them have even seen me in swimwear! And still, I am loved and I am chosen by them. And it is true that sometimes this group-- these people-- have not been what I had daydreamed and doodled about in my more sophomoric understanding of relationships. But, in as much as it is possible and knowing as much as one can know, I am willing to hinge myself to their futures. Because, at the end of an evening twirling and stumbling with these children, sages and friends, I pledge that I too, would do it all over again.

And so,
prayer by prayer,
one step in front of the other,
as days domino into years,

I will.

Letting Go. Moving On.

Friends, I have officially been left out in the cold by love once again.

I really thought the two of us had something special.

Depth &humour
Youth & wisdom
Beauty & mystery

Yes, we had it all as far as I could tell. And I allowed myself to believe that things were just going to be somehow, magically different this time. But they really are all the same, aren’t they? Because here I sit alone on a Tuesday evening and all I have are some leftover peanut butter balls and the memories of our 3 year rendezvous.

I still remember the beginning like it was yesterday, though. Staying up ‘til 3 in the morning replaying every word that was spoken and trying to take in any and every supposed clue that may or may not have been intentionally meant to convey anything. Exhausted each evening by the dreams of our future together only to wake up each morning late for work and confused over the seemingly thin line between reality and fantasy in this relationship. Yep, same old friggin story.

It is times like these that almost make me believe that maybe the gaping hole in our hearts cannot be adequately filled with television programming. I just have to face it, LOST is gone for good and I have to move on. But let me tell you something, I only have so many years of youthful slothfulness left in me and I don’t have time to sit around waiting for the next theologically inspiring, visually captivating, heart-wrenching, character-driven drama to come around.

Lost is gone and I am the one who needs saving. So, I am going to dive right back into the waters with what I am calling my:

Lost Rebound Tele-Dates for Summer 2010!!!!!!!!!!
• The Bachelorette Season 6 starring Ali F. (Yes, Judgy McPrideful, I do realize that this is the lowest form of soul-stealing television but did you not just hear the trauma I am going through with my recent loss?)
• The Colbert Report and The Daily Show (Please tell me they are not going on summer hiatus because I cannot loose my t.v. love interest and my t.v. best friends all in one month. I am just not strong enough for that.)
• Arrested Development on D.V.D. (Everyone who is funny likes this show and because of my extreme devotion to one show in particular I have been unable to invite any new shows in to my life…until now!)
• Parenthood on NBC ( I watched the premier a few months back and thought it was solid. A former Gilmore Girl, laughter and tears all in one episode? This definitely has my name on it, and summer is a great time to catch up.)
And finally,
• Late Night With Jimmy Fallon (He is adorable and funny and in just a few months he will once again be my appetizer before this guy.)

That is it for me as far as programmatic planning goes. Am I missing out out any potential telivisory love affairs. You'd let me know, right?

K.K. and CoCo Part II: Love Never Fails

Edward, Catherine Zeta Jones, and I shared quick hugs and hellos before quickly finding our stair separated seats. I sat there in the balcony for about 20 minutes before realizing just how pathetic this situation might seem to the former man of my dreams. Here it is 7 years since we dated and I am still presumably dateless, AND, beyond datelessness, I have evidently alienated any and all girl friends who might otherwise have agreed to share an evening of laughter with me.

This was not helping my perpetual quest to portray myself as a non-crazy, but these are the moments in life when one must practice thankfulness. So, with my hard-earned maturity, I created this:

Things to be Thankful for in this Precise Moment
1. Cool jewelry, borrowed at the last minute to keep me from looking completely homely --Check.
2. A good book in my purse to stave off any pre-show boredom—Check.
3. Five empty seats to my right (potentially awaiting my bevy of hilarious gentlemen callers). Check, Check, Check, Check, Check.


It pains me that I am unable to sufficiently capture the scope of ridiculous prayers and unfair judgments that raced through my brain once the hope of handsome chair neighbors invaded my brain, but here Is a beginners taste of what went down:

Actual Life Event: Poor innocent couple walks ominously close to my five seats
Thought Life Response: “No Jesus, not a couple, a man, M-A-Nnnnnnnnnnnnnnn.”
Actual Life Event: A balding man and his 3-beer- toting compadre head my way.
Thought life Response: “ Ok, yes Jesus those are men but can we hold off for someone who is not so certain that he is going to need that much alcohol just to start the show?”
Writing World Confession & Response: And, don’t even get me started on all the short skirted, emo-wearing, and overweight women who dared to come near, because of which, I was eventually forced to protect MY SEATS with Twilight style vampire hisses unleashed at any and all of the aforementioned.
Are you there God, It’s me KerrAZY.

Luckily, my reading material kept me from blatantly staring people down for the full wait time. So, there I sat, nervously flipping through my copy of Percy Jackson and the Sea of Monsters like the Conan-loving-fantasy-freak that I am. Perhaps at this point it might be helpful to review the evening thus far.

I showed up:
• on time (hoping to be in bed by 9:30)
• alone
• in borrowed accessories,
• 4th grade level fantasy novel in hand,
• grumpily jeering at any women or ring wearing men, AND
• earnestly anticipating a love connection.

Somehow, things did not go as planned and those 5 beautiful spaces to my right were unsatisfactorily filled. The girl who sat next to me was skinny and blond and lucky that she arrived late enough in the evening for my hair-pulling and eye gouging reflexes to be in something of a hiatus. I was sort of starting to doubt the wisdom of paying quadruple the ticket price to get into a sold out show-- even for my little Snow Cone.

But, when that Late Night Band started playing and my giant toothpick of a man started talking and singing and showing clip upon clip of Walker Texas Ranger, all my neurotic worries drifted away. I was in the “Cone-Zone” where puppet dogs are inexplicably humorous and self-deprecation is less a pathos-inspiring habit and more a money-making endeavor. As we wrapped up the evening Conan explained that this trip to Austin was his first. Yes, Conan O’Brien chose to spend his only day in Austin with me, the Kerr-bear, an experience that left him “awed and thankful”. Not the first time I have gotten this feedback after a first date, but it’s always nice to hear. And now friends, I suspect we have all simultaneously arrived at the next logical question. How long before he introduces me to his parents?

K.K. & CoCo "Episode 1"

Last Night I went to see Conan O’Brien at Austin Music Hall. It should furthermore be understood that I am deeply and increasingly in love with Conan O’Brien. Admittedly, I say the same things about Tony Romo and Ryan Gosling, but with Conan its different. I actually believe in my heart that, if he didn’t have a wife and children, and if I could only corner all 6 foot 7 of him in an elevator somewhere, that we could start a life together and never look back on the days before we had each other. Perhaps these and similar imaginings contributed in some mysterious way to me attending this show unaccompanied. We can never know for certain.

As I tried to find my place in the longest line of people I have ever seen in my life, I kept an eye out for any single, glasses -wearing men demonstrating subtle but intentional ties to the Christian faith (a Jesus-Fish ring or a tattooed Bible reference perhaps). You see, I might have gently suggested to God that meeting my husband at a Conan O’Brien Show could really make up for years of confusing singledom. Not that I was in any way scoffing at his sovereign plan for my life or anything -- just trying to be useful really--help the big guy see things from a fresh angle ‘cause it sort of seems like he’s been a bit stuck in a rut when it comes to my dating experiences lately (sigh).

As fate would have it, there was a cute guy right behind me in line but I could not completely convince myself that the lovely girl he was with was his cousin, especially after he put his hand in her back pocket. However, behind the cousin couple was another cute guy. But, as it turns out it is sort of awkward to start a conversation with a complete stranger who is 3 people down from you in a line of other complete strangers. So, I could only assume that my divine “hottie” provision would come along inside.

Just before I entered the building,however, I heard a familiar voice yell out my name. A voice I couldn’t quite place but whose loveliness was undeniable. I turned, hopeful that it was one of my Austin crushes, thrilled to see me and hoping to grab coffee afterward. But when my eyes scoured the crowd to match the sounds with a sight, I saw that it was not a hunky crush at all. It was my hunky college boyfriend Edward Norton with his beautiful post-college wife. They had tickets on the floor, mere sweat droplets away from Conan. "Great," I thought, as they headed hand in hand to their superior seats. I gotta find out what kind of prayer beads that guy uses.

Stay tuned for Part 2 which may or may not include the details of my make-out session with one red-haired CoCo Puff.

Welcome Friends!

My name is Kerri. I have a good old fashioned fear of social networking and lots of other internet communication, but, I want to tell my stories. No, I am not 87 years old though I do enjoy a box of Raisenets when I head down to the local picture show. And with whom do I go to the picture show, you ask? Um, usually a group who I believe the great Beyonce would refer to as “All My Single Ladies”. That’s right, I am 27, well beyond my self-planned age of matrimony and life, for me, can be hilarious and tragic. That’s the stuff blogs are made of right? I hope people will join me on this storytelling journey and if you choose to, be sure and check-out the helpful reading hints below:

1. I suffer from delusions of grandeur and therefore I would prefer not to use friends and families names on this blog, just in case I become an overnight sensation and I am asked to become a writer for a major television show. I don’t want people hassling my family for money or autographs due to my overwhelming fame. Those good people did not ask for that. Therefore I will refer to all of my family and friends with celebrity pseudonyms. Will this make it confusing if I am talking about an actual celebrity? Probably. We’ll figure it out as we go along.

2. I am a Christian …I am hoping more of the Mother Theresa variety than-- oh let’s say the Glen Beck variety but fair warning faith and Jesus are going to come up along the way if you are gracious enough to read these musings.

3. I don’t like curse words. I think they are cheap and more weighty than we give them credit for. I especially don’t like to hear teenagers use curse words. However sometimes using a curse word for comedic effect is EFFING HILARIOUS, so you might see one here and there on this site.

4. I ADORE lists and Haikus, and as such regular readers might enjoy occasional mid-week posts in these glorious mediums. Otherwise, more lengthy posts will be go-up each Sunday.

5. I want to be honest with you so I will tell you what I told my college roommates. I will probably always choose a man over you. It isn't that I don't care for you-- its just that I am not going to marry you. So be forewarned, although if you are anything like me, advanced warning that someone is non-committal will do you no good. In fact it might make you want to stick around all the more and that is fine by me (: