The Happiest, Saddest Day

There is this episode of Friends that Amy Adams and I like to quote when pals of ours get married. In this particular scene Phoebe and Rachel learn of Monica’s engagement and tabulate their percentage of happiness versus their percentage of jealousy beginning at a promising 90% happy to 10% jealous and (through a journey of neurotic self perseveration) ending up at around 60/40. As two relatively long-time single ladies Amy and I can relate. Occasionally you think to yourself how in the world did that mustachioed dictator of a woman get a ring on it before I did?!?! But sometimes you are really not jealous at all (okay maybe like 2% but that hardly even counts just like in milk).


Sometimes, like last night when Amy’s brother got married you are just in soul shaking shock. Amy’s brother (whose celebrity pseudonym should be Conan but I reference the real Conan too frequently for that to work) has been a friend for the last 22 of my 28 years. We have seen each other toiling and searching and laughing and loving. We have made fun of each other and stood up for one another and then made fun of each other some more. We have had water wars, trampoline contests, secrets, surprises, lake-house trips, haircuts, cross-country moves, and divine moments on the big front porch when God sent extra portions of food and conversation with a gracious breeze to hover over us in our communing.

And I thought about all those things and when everything had quieted down at the rehearsal dinner I said to his family: “I think I’ve changed my mind. Maybe we shouldn’t let him get married tomorrow.” And his mom nodded in understanding “We just don’t like change. It has been this way for a long time.” And it is true. That is the problem with some of these weddings-- It isn’t so much that you want what they have so much as you want them—unchanged untampered with for worse or even for better. You want them to be in your personal collection of people or at the very least be available for checkout in some sort of shared human library—and here they have gone and been claimed permanently by someone else. And it doesn’t even really matter that the person doing the claiming is kind and good humored and willing to share the appropriate parts of your old pal with you (such as the case with this particular marriage). It is just the idea that the way it has always been is gone from one joyous moment at the altar to the next making this the happiest, saddest day.

And I have a lot of experience with things getting even better than you imagined in new chapters of life, so I have faith that the same will be true as my earliest and closest family of friends marry off without me. I suppose I will have to find a few more solitary single-lady adventures to keep up with all the rampant 100% happiness in the air. And I believe those adventures might be just around the corner.

Wishing you all more august and less angst as you navigate the joy and pain of change,

Kerri

Getting to Know You

The other day I was hanging out with 2 of my Neighbly kids talking about life and choices and relationships and as we chatted and questioned and laughed at one another a theme seemed to emerge in our conversation--which is to say they both think I am boy-crazy. I think this is hilarious since they have never actually seen me with a boy, but nevertheless they rated me just slightly more evolved than a junior high girl when it comes to my affections for gentleman.

I won't deny it.

I have said it before and I will say it again. I love boys from cradle to grave. They are gorgeous, hilarious and fascinating little creatures and I don't think I will ever fully get over their existence on the very same planet that I inhabit. What Luck!

That said, I am also pretty impressed with women (never fear this is not an  inapporopriately executed out of the closet type announcement) I'm just saying that there is this profound strength and beauty that eminates from so many of the women that I have admired, befriended, stalked, or mentored that it makes me want to know everything about them.

Out of this desire, I collaborating with 2 of my single-ladies from Angry Young Rockstars (our small group), created an "Interesting Lady Interview Form" last spring. We scheduled interviews with various women from our lives in an attempt to honor and to understand. It was an AMAZING process and I thought one worthy of sharing.

I think we live in an age and culture which is painfully remedial in its storytelling and in its discipleship efforts. We want efficiency (give me the high points of your narrative and move on) and we want to live in the illusion that our stories do not overlap. But they do!

Sooooo

 I know I am little late here (INTL Women's day was March 8th) but I encourage you to hear someone's story in the next week or so. Even if you think you know it. Take them out for coffee or a treat and you might be surprised how a new angle uncovers a gem or two.  If you want to use our format go ahead! If that seems overwhelming just choose one or two questions that peak your interest.  Try it out  and let me know:

1. How it went!
2. Any questions you added!
3. If you want to be interviewed!
Okay here goes!

Dear Interesting Lady,

You have been selected to be interviewed by a few female “rock stars” or so we have been called. Our selection method for this process is quite simple, to be interviewed you must be inspiring, and if you are reading this letter, then we have already decided that you are. Therefore, you should see this interview as a chance to be honored and nothing else. We want to sit at your feet and hear your story. Whatever story you tell is the one we have been waiting to hear. We realize that you are imperfect and we do not come to you expecting the formula for a pain-free life. We do suspect, however that you each have something to offer that might speak to us on own unique journeys. We are including a set of questions that we would be delighted to have you answer, but there is complete freedom in this process. Some interesting ladies will jump at the chance to give an opinion on each and every subject. Others will feel more drawn to a few inquiries and, of course, none of us can really plan the trajectory of our conversation, we can only ask that God will be among us in all of the silliness and seriousness. Look over the questions if you’d like, or ignore them if that is more your style. Thank you for having already inspired us. We can’t wait to have you all to ourselves!

Lady Rockstars

1. What is your Story? (This could be memoir-style, testimony, stand-up comedy)
2. Look at the topics below: What have you found to be easiest/loveliest/hardest/ugliest and most surprising about each area that applies to you?
-Work
-Children
-Marriage
-Christianity
3. Do you have a motto, mantra or life-verse?
4. If you are married what do you think initially made you fall in love with your husband?
5. What has kept you in love with him?
6. What have you most grown to love about yourself?
7. Who do you admire?
8. Finish this thought: “This I used to believe…”
9. What is the best advice you have ever received or given?
10. What question would you like to be asked?

Worst Wife Ever

I have been avoiding posts on showers (bridal not actual) for some time now due to the elevated numbers of friends who currently find themselves in nuptial preparation and realization (let me pause here to say that I feel I should be commended for selecting the word "realization" rather than cleverly using the word "execution" and thus subtextually aligning the action of sharing vows with something aggressive, depressing and undesirable. I will thus hold for your applause in absentia.)

I didn't want to say whiney and offensive things about these little celebrations whilst participating in them each weekend, but yesterday during my first (yes , first) shower of the day the bloggods sent such perfect manna style provision for this post, I feel it would be on some level unholy to continue my shower silence. And so I speak out.

Now, in defense of showers I will say that  the food is delicious (afterdinner mints, sausage balls and some kind of sherbet punch will never leave me dissatisfied)

Plus, any occasion to wear a cute dress cannot be all bad

Plus, I am in the 5-10% of the population who thoroughly enjoys most shower games. Give me a little Bride-Groom Trivia, some version of steal the clothespin, and a round of name that tune (love-song edition) and I am thrilled. Believe it or not, I have a competive edge.

Which is why, when Silverman's sweet aunt indicated that I would need a purse if I had any intention of winning the next game I declared loudly that I most certainly had every intention of dominating the next game and bolted out of the house to my car stopping only to grab a handful of refiller mints and a mini-quiche.

Out at my car I convinced myself that it would not be cheating to add a few more things to my purse since technically I treat my car less like a vehicle and  more like an oversized purse than most individuals.  I proceded to throw in an extra novel, a pen, a half consumed soda and a screwdriver because I seemed to remember this game probably had to do with who could provide the zaniest or largest amount of items from their own bag. Those other suckers inside were toast!  They probably don't even have one melted chocolate bar in the bottom of their clutch, I thought, proud that my disheveled artsy way of toting would prove to be an asset in this instance.

Into the house I swaggered just in time to hear the game facilitator announce that we would be rummaging through our purses for the most wifely items. Every item was something "every good wife should have" and would be worth 5 points. Perhaps my confidence took a slight hit at the understanding that I, not being a wife, could be at a slight disadvantage, but my deep wells of unmerited self assurance led me to believe that I would still prevail as the game's ultimate victor.

This ladies and gentleman is the list as it was called out and my subsequent defensive responses:

Item #1 a lipstick ("because every good wife should be prepared to look good for her man").  Ok that seems fair enough and I do have a lipstick in my car (I am not a complete barbarian) its just too bad I did not grab it for this game.
Item # 2 a shopping list (self explanatory) also something I might possibly have but just don't at the moment.
Item # 3 Reading Glasses ("to read your grocery list") Now I am starting to get a little incredulous, am I being penalized for being neither old nor visually disabled, because I don't believe in reverse descrimination but if I did I think I would be filing a bridal-shower lawsuit.
Item # 4 Tums ("because your husband always needs them") Ok, this is probably the reason why I will not get married. I am not even 100% sure what Tums do, but it sounds like it has something to do with something gross gone wrong in your body and I am never going to want to carry around somebody elses gross body problem medicine.
Item #5 Coupons ("because good wives are always looking for a deal") I too am always looking for a deal but I am not doing it in 1982. Who (other than my mother) clips and carries coupons around with them in the technological age?
Item # 6 a picture of your husband, boyfriend or parents.("because you need a reminder of your love" or somthing like that). Ok now I am raging a bit because as is clear from my ineptitude on numbers 1-5, I have neither a husband or boyfriend and If I were carrying around framed pictures of my parents I think that would explain why. Again penalized for finally beating the separation anxiety that crippled me for so many years? This is just getting cruel folks.

and finally,

Item # 7 A credit card ("because every good wife should have credit") YESSSSS I not only have a credit card, I have 2, Booyah I think to myself. And then ("however every good wife should also be prudent, so if  you have more than 1 credit card give yourself negative 2 points")

So, despite every effort on my part I ended the game husbandless, dignityless and in point debt. Here is the proof ...

This is my list along with single-lady Christina. The winner had 40 points.

Should we go ahead and join a convent now or maybe just start clipping some Tums Coupons? These are the sorts of questions that I take home with me at the end of each shower experience.

 What about you ladies and gents, how do you size up on this good-wife game? How many of the items do you have in your current purse, murse or genderless tote?

Give it up for...

So here's the deal. I've been having a hard time posting every week lately because I am currently working approximately 17 (or at least 3) jobs.  However, part of the reason for taking all those gigs is to ultimately make more room in my life for writing. So never fear fodder friends. A day is coming when words will be my number one priority, but until then sacrifice is a necessity.

And speaking of sacrificice...

I felt strongly about getting a post up today no matter how finesseless, because it is FAT tuesday which means tomorrow is the beginning of the Lenten season, of which I wanted to make everyone well aware.
Lent offers us a time not only to sacrifice but to slow down...because each sacrificial moment expands such that we might decide how we will behave differently now that some of our old vices have been taken off the table.

"If I can't watch T.V. how will I use those 4 hours?
"If I eliminate carbs from my diet, to what or whom will I turn for love?

I love lent for this reason. For the opportunity to investigate those things that have taken hold of us. For reclaiming a thought-life instead of maintaing habitualized action. And for ultimately filling the voids with prayer rather than potatoes or porn or some other p-word that is basically bad for you.

I hope you might quietly consider, if you haven't already, some form of abstinece or action that God might guide you through during this season.

Keep quiet about it, so as not to become like your friend who constantly brags about not having a T.V. (we get it dude, you are SO sophisticated) or how often he yogas (we get it dude you are so flexible)...Jesus knew that would be annoying so he commanded against it.

But try it.
Give it up for the least sexy church season of the year . Give it up for Lent!

Dia de los Enamorados

The Christian-memoir superstud Donald Miller (crush-o-mine), says that for him, the idea of having a father around-- all present and loving is quite like the idea of owning a dragon. It is a fascinating daydream arousing the curiosity and doubtless fulfilling a few other intellectual needs. But ultimately it is a “what if” and these particular sorts of what’ifs tend to be dead-ends, if we are all honest about it. And that is exactly what the ideas of love and marriage have become like for me. Occasionally someone who hasn’t known me long enough to have ever experienced me in a fugue of love or heartbreak will innocently ask if I have any desire for matrimony and all of its subsequent implications, and I think, “why, yes, that would be nice—as would the ability to becomes invisible or experience telepathy, so if you know anyone…”

I suppose that’s why I was so surprised in a conversation with Paltrow a few weeks back. We were having our weekly Bachelor debrief and then she told me about this poignant wedding she had attended over the holiday. “I just kept thinking about you” she said, and I assumed she meant there was someone there with unruly hair, or who showed up in flip-flops or some other nonsense like that. But she continued, “ I thought of you because I just know that is what your wedding will be like.”

And, I cried.

Immediately.

Shocking even myself.

Poor, delusional Gwyneth, I thought. Can’t she see that I am nearly thirty, dripping with neurosis and plagued by 3 of the world’s most speedily recurrent chin hairs? There is no santa, or toothfairy or husband for me. But the fact that she thinks there could be is overwhelmingly heartwarming. It is the kind of true love which sees the best of me and for me. And I have a lot of that these days.

And that is why I still love Valentine’s Day.

Earlier this week when I realized the Day of the Enamored was right round the corner I did a little (mental) jump of glee, because what it has really come to mean for me is a giggly girlfriend’s holiday where you believe the best for one another and treat each other better than any of your stupid boyfriends ever did. Instead of skulking in to that cleverly released rom-com like some single sinner on a field-trip to catch a glimpse of couplesville, you bound in wearing your best girl-power t-shirts and mocking the finesse-less inevitability of whatever kooky, happy-ending version of Romeo and Juliet is being pushed on this particular evening.

And,

You imagine. For yourself and for all your single ladies, and all your married and trying to conceive ladies, and for all your pre-maturely widowed ladies. You imagine the best and most cliché and satisfying love affairs for the whole lot of you. And I’m not trying to bash reality, ‘cause I have had some real genuine moments of transcendental love in my life, and on most days, I wouldn’t trade them. But, the problem with real people and relationships is that you tend to lose control of the script you’ve written and that can be just as annoying as being single.

So, this Monday (and each day really) I encourage you to be thankful for what is still fictional and for what is real. Be lavish in your affections for everyone in whom you are delighted, regardless of gender or romantic-status. Tell someone expressly, explicitly what they mean to you and what you believe for them. And for God’s sake eat some chocolate covered strawberries. This holiday deserves to be celebrated if but for no other reason than the weeklong ubiquity of those juicy little wedding cake toppers.

At least I know there will be loads of them atop the cake at my wedding one day, right Paltrow?

Happy V- Day everyone, feel free to begin your unabashed affection giving right here in the comments section.

Kerri K.

Texas Our Texas

Many have claimed that there is no such thing as a stupid question and for the most part, I have agreed with this sentiment. But throughout my life, when someone has been audacious enough to ask me some version of this:

“What’s so great about Texas?”,

my commitment to the aforementioned philosophy has proved flappable. And, since there are those, fumbling through life unaware of how to properly answer such an elementary inquiry, I suppose I should share the most timely response here and now.

What’s so great about Texas is a little thing we like to call a “Snow Day”. I know other states have this procedure as well, but I think we do it best here. You see, two weeks ago I was wearing a sundress. As I sit and write this little PSA I am in a sundress. In between these bouts of free shouldered, flip-flop freedom has been a week of late-starts and snow days for me and my compadres throughout this the largest of the contiguous (aka “real”) states. So, in essence our philosophy (not to be confused with our motto which awesomely enough is: friendship) is this: “If you can’t wear a sundress to it, you might as well cancel it, stay in bed and pray for all your yankee acquaintances who are presently walking to their snow-covered school buildings despite the arctic blizzard that has taken the region hostage.

Some people complain about snow days implying that we are all going to be kicking ourselves on make-up day in May. Well Senor Glass-Half-Empty, you’re wrong. In May I am moments away from 6 weeks of summer break and I am coming to a job which is temperate and full of sun-kissed employees complimenting me on my newest sundress.

And obviously this is only the beginning, I’ve yet to mention Chicken Fried Steak, The Dallas Cowboys, Hill Country or Complimentary Queso at every other restaurant. So in conclusion, if you don’t live in Texas, I’m sorry. If you do hope you enjoyed some hot cocoa and family fun during arctic Blast 2011. And if you are looking for quotes (previously promised) from, about and adjacent to Brad Womack, Texas Bachelor click here.

Monday Night Lovin'

I didn’t want to do this. Didn’t want to disappoint those of you who, doubtless, tune in each week with hopes that you will be hit with another dose of some matter of unshakeable spiritual profundity. I hesitated to begin typing. I thought about my duties as a spiritual, and more specifically as a Christian woman. But when I look at myself in the mirror each morning I have to ask myself this question: How can a girl market herself as a sort of pilgrim in the land of singleton silliness, and knowingfully neglect to speak out on a little program that America’s Broadcasting Company calls,



The Bachelor.

She can’t, ladies and gentleman. It would be dishonest, a disservice a disgrace to avoid such a disgrace. And yes, some will say that if anything this sort of television demotes my spiritual self. And I wouldn’t put up much of a fight with you on that point. But, in the words of my mother,
I don’t drink,
I don’t do drugs,
I don’t participate in cross gender sleepovers of any variety
so a girl has got to have a guilty pleasure or two.
Okay?

And with that long of an intro, you might have guessed that it is time for one of my luscious little lists, but before I present you with “ Quotable Quotes that make me Love ABC's The Bachelor” I should provide a brief, unbiased description of the show for those who have managed to avoid it for its 15 seasons of glory.

So here goes:

25-30 women with low self esteem (allegedly) compete for the love of one (usually) well-to-do buff man. They win this stallion-man’s affection through a series of awkward group dates whereupon he serial kisses 5 to 12 women who are “really falling for him”. When a lovely lady finds a way to stand out of the crowd in a manner that pleases the bache (AKA hot-tub straddle scenes, emotional breakdowns arousing his need to guard and protect, and in this particular season showcasing vampire teeth.) She can make it to a one- on- one date to some simple, real –world- inspired destination (AKA dinner atop the Eiffel tower, serenaded by James Taylor and followed by your regular end of the date-adrenaline-riddled bunji jump down to safety on Paris’ cleared and lantern-lit streets below.) Whichever ladies make the best impressions each week are presented with roses from the man in charge and the other women scorned are immediately sent home in limousines where they say amazingly embarrassing and bipolar things, i.e. “I know it has only been 2 and a half weeks, but I really thought he was the one. I was really in love with him. I hope he burns in hell for keeping those other trashy girls around.” Then she drinks a bottle of liquor, preps questions for, After the Final Rose. And eventually after we have seen enough of those rides our man pretends to be completely torn between the final two contestants, then publicly rejects one last girl for the awkwardest of limo-ride confessionals and then selects a woman to be his….uh well, sometimes his wife, sometimes his g.f. who he promises to eventually propose to in the future and one time to no one at all. That Bachelor’s name was Brad—an Austin Boy.

And Brad is back! And guess what? If you are late to the, ehem ,Bachelor Party, as it were, You have missed but one episode and it can be found online. You’ll want to finish each episode with the bachelor recap at ihategreenbeans.com and now that you know what you are in for I can continue on to my list…

“ Quotable Quotes that make me Love the Bachelor”

Alas…I fear I have gone and used up to much of my word-count on the intro to this long-planned list-o-mine. So I do believe I will have to make this a two-parter. I will gather more bachelor inspired quotes on tomorrow’s episode and get back to you with a post or maybe even a new blog section? But, until then, what say you sisters (and brothers). Do you forgive me for my bachelor love? Accept me? Amen me? Applaud me? Disown me? Have I convinced you to join in, if you were previously unaware or otherwise uncommitted to this Monday night phenomenon? Let me know!

Kerri K.