During a recent sermon, my pastor humorously explained that you can tell if God has called you to be single (versus called to be married) by performing a simple test. Look at a picture of someone of the opposite sex, and then look at a picture of a cactus. If you can’t tell the difference, you’re probably called to be single. After the church service was over, while I walked to the parking lot, anytime I would pass a man along the way, I thought to myself, “That is not a cactus.” LOL!
I don’t want to stomp on anyone’s testimony, but it kind of annoys me when people say something like, “I was old when I got married; I was 30.” Technically, yes, 30 was pretty old to be getting married, say, back in the 70s when my parents tied the knot. But I’m 34 and unmarried. Does that make me ancient? I haven’t had a date since I was 18. I have no ex-husband, no children, and no boyfriend. I’m single-single-single. And I’m not complaining. It’s just that I’ve had plenty of time to make plenty of observations about being single.
If anyone asks me if I’m married and I reply no, I hate it when the next question is “Why?” Sigh. If only it were so easy to answer. Asking me why I’m not married kind of makes me angry. Is the question-asker assuming that I’ve actually chosen singlehood? I think I usually just reply with a shoulder shrug, and then the question-asker thankfully usually doesn’t pry further, or they talk about their own marriage journey, or they think out loud about who they can set me up with. Because answering the “Why?” thoroughly would require me explaining my past history in all its painful, gory detail. Also, if the question-asker would assume I’m gay (see my blog entry from 4/29/09), it would reinforce how little the question-asker really knows me. Again, sigh!
I mentioned on previous posts (4/12/10 and 4/17/10) that I left MySpace, and it was because I didn’t appreciate the way people were treating me on there. In many cases, I felt like a piece of meat. When I listed my marital status as “Single” and that I was looking for “Friendship,” it did NOT mean, “Hey, everybody, I’m into kinky stuff.” It meant, “I’m single. I’m on MySpace for platonic friendship. No cryptic messages attached.” It got to where I stopped friending guys who only had pictures of booby women on their profiles (because it was kinda obvious what their online intentions were). One guy, a perfect stranger from a foreign country, practically proposed, although judging from his generic message, I’m guessing he sent it to every woman he vaguely wanted.
I’m not saying it’s a bad idea to make friends and meet potential boyfriends online. I sent MySpace friend requests to a couple of (celebrity) guys I had crushes on. :”> I don’t think I did anything weird -- I just sent a simple friend request... that they ignored. One guy ignored 2 of my requests. Hey, life goes on. What I’m saying is that there’s a healthy way to chat with people online, especially in a platonic friendship, without practically proposing.
One guy, whom I’ll call “Y,” probably doesn’t know yet how to do this the healthy way. As I mentioned, I was on MySpace for platonic friendship purposes. I got a friend request from “Y,” a perfect stranger who seemed harmless, so I added him. Almost immediately, he started sending me messages just to make small talk, I guess because he wanted to chitchat. In case you haven’t noticed by now, I don’t really make small talk with perfect strangers online. I send them a link to my blog and give them a deep conversation! :o) Anyway, after a few days of very surface-level chitchat messages, I was like, “Hey, no offense, but I’m not comfortable chatting with perfect strangers online. I looked at your profile, and you don’t list very much information about yourself.” He was like, “I understand. No problem.” Then he IMed me on MySpace. (Almost no one ever IMed me on MySpace.) So, I prayed about it and got the impression that “Y” was only after one thing. I pretty much nipped it in the bud during that one IM chat. He was like, “Where do you work?” And I told him. He was like, “Interesting. What do you do for fun?” I was like, “I go to church.” He was like, “Oh. Uh, I guess you and I have different ideas of fun.” And then he completely stopped chatting with me and removed me from his friend list shortly thereafter! I was like, Thanks a lot! Heh. After all that trouble -- being open to developing a friendship with some chatty online stranger and then trying to figure out what his intentions were, only to be dropped when I suddenly mentioned church? I guess that might fall into the category of being blessed when people exclude you for Jesus’ sake (see Luke 6:22), but to me, “Y” communicated more along the lines of, “Oh. You’re NOT that kind of girl. See ya!” Maybe I’m still single because God has been protecting me from some bad stuff.
What’s probably worse than being treated like a piece of meat, however, is having unrequited love -- one of the most acute emotional pains ever known to humankind. I don’t think I’d ever wish it on anybody. Seriously!! Without going into details, there was a time when I thought I was in love with a man, but I wasn’t. (I listed it briefly on a post on 6/10/09.) Any feelings I had for him went away pretty quickly after I broke up with him. In processing through it afterwards, and in getting involved in the life of another guy who I developed some deeper feelings for, I got to understand firsthand what love is like. Love is something that lingers. It builds up in the deep places of your heart and soul, and it takes root so strongly that it will not easily leave when you try to uproot it. No, it makes itself at home inside your very being, causing happiness and pain simultaneously in a way that makes you want to either shout melodically from the rooftops or smush your face into your living-room carpet with a box of Kleenex and a steady stream of tears. Love makes you want the object of your affections to be as happy as possible, whether they’re with you or not. Whether they return your love or not. Whether they know how you feel or not. It’s being willing to serve unnoticed, willing to adjust the little details of your life, willing to let go. And when that love is unrequited, unreturned, you HAVE TO let go. Even if it means doing so in a gut-wrenching, soul-wrenching, heartbreaking process that takes a few long, agonizing years.
I think I might still be going through this process. :) It is painful, but as a creative artist, I like to take refined pain and shape it into something that will cathartically help me and hopefully help others. I’ve learned a LOT. One important thing I’ve learned is that even though I want to get married someday, I’d much rather be single than be with the wrong guy. If, over time, the kind of love that I mentioned in the previous paragraph isn’t something that I have for a guy, or if it isn’t returned, I’ll probably get out of that relationship. :)
The love that I’ve spoken about in this post is romantic love. But there is a much greater love than that -- an unconditional love that I hope to write about in my next post.
Now anytime anyone gets curious about my marital status, I can just send them a link to this post! Whoo-hoo! :D
Wednesday, June 30, 2010
Sunday, June 13, 2010
My thoughts about the immigration debate
I’m not an expert in politics, and I only keep up with the news now pretty much just enough to get by, but I still would like to explain my point of view on illegal immigration, specifically regarding immigrants from Mexico.
If you’ve read any of my blog in the past few years, you probably know that my mom and half my family are originally from Mexico. (For info on my background, see “Half-breed power!” and “Hey! Are you toleratin’ me?” that I reposted on 4/12/10. For my opinion about government, healthcare, and immigrants who take advantage, see my post from 10/24/09.) I LOVE the United States of America, and as I get older, I appreciate our freedoms more and more. I would love for as many immigrants as possible, from Mexico and anywhere else, to live here and enjoy America -- my America! But I also believe we should keep our borders secure and enforce the law. I’m a natural-born citizen, but my mom and her family immigrated here from Mexico legally and became naturalized citizens years later. I believe that anyone who immigrates to the U.S. must do so legally.
My parents live in Texas near the Mexican border, so whenever I drive back home from visiting them, I pass through a border patrol checkpoint. It’s usually a very mellow event that only takes 10 to 15 minutes of my time. The traffic slows down, I and my car wait in line, and an officer asks me if I’m an American citizen while he briefly glances inside my car. I reply yes, he says thank you, and I proceed with my road trip. (There is usually a K-9 on duty, and it’s a good thing I’m not into drugs, because the animal would sniff them out pretty quick.) I’m sure these border patrol officers are doing a great job, but in my opinion, this is pretty minimum security. I wouldn’t mind at all if these checkpoint stops were much stricter, like if I had to show the officer my driver’s license or prove my citizenship, even if it meant taking up more of my time. If tightening the reins keeps me and my country safe, it’s worth it.
I’ve never been to Arizona, so I don’t know how things are out there. Quite frankly, if it’s anything like West Texas, it might be a place where racism is accepted or even encouraged. So, maybe their controversial immigration law is a terrible thing because it could potentially stir up even more racism. But what if it’s just a law that facilitates law enforcement officers’ authority to simply enforce the law?
This is a very silly example, but just say for the sake of argument that it is illegal to carry gummi bears inside bandanas. Even though the law is on the books, many people have chosen to ignore it and wrap gummi bears inside their bandanas and smuggle them everywhere, anyway. People wearing bandanas bulging with gummi bears stand outside movie theaters and grocery stores and hold picket signs, chanting that they have every right to keep gummi bears in their bandanas because they live in this great country. So, lawmakers pass a new law that requires police officers to inspect any bandanas they see anyone wearing and check for gummi bears. Anyone caught will be forced to give up their gummi bears and bandanas. Um, I don’t think it would be considered profiling if a police officer pulled over a motorist for speeding, for example, and noticed that the driver happened to be wearing a bandana and asked to inspect it for gummi bears. I think it would be considered common sense.
One evening about 2 or 3 years ago, I came across a Nickelodeon special that dealt with immigration. They interviewed a little girl whose family was here from Mexico illegally. She spoke English well and was enrolled in school here. But anytime her family heard that “la migra” (border patrol) was in their neighborhood, she and her entire family would stay quietly inside their house and try to make it look like they weren’t home. (Kind of like how the people in The Diary of Anne Frank would stay as quiet as possible during the day.) During these times when “la migra” was cracking down, no one in her family would go to school or work for fear of being caught and deported. And it is a legitimate fear. But that sounds like a terrible way to live. What kind of life is that? And what kind of lesson are that little girl and her siblings learning? That it’s OK to break the law as long as you don’t get caught?
The immigration issue can often be a tragic one: Families can be separated and people can even die trying to cross the border to freedom, albeit illegally. But I, for one, do not want this next generation to be a lawless one. I want all residents of American soil to enjoy the freedoms that our forefathers founded for us, and I want all immigrants to respect American freedoms and laws. God bless America -- my America!
If you’ve read any of my blog in the past few years, you probably know that my mom and half my family are originally from Mexico. (For info on my background, see “Half-breed power!” and “Hey! Are you toleratin’ me?” that I reposted on 4/12/10. For my opinion about government, healthcare, and immigrants who take advantage, see my post from 10/24/09.) I LOVE the United States of America, and as I get older, I appreciate our freedoms more and more. I would love for as many immigrants as possible, from Mexico and anywhere else, to live here and enjoy America -- my America! But I also believe we should keep our borders secure and enforce the law. I’m a natural-born citizen, but my mom and her family immigrated here from Mexico legally and became naturalized citizens years later. I believe that anyone who immigrates to the U.S. must do so legally.
My parents live in Texas near the Mexican border, so whenever I drive back home from visiting them, I pass through a border patrol checkpoint. It’s usually a very mellow event that only takes 10 to 15 minutes of my time. The traffic slows down, I and my car wait in line, and an officer asks me if I’m an American citizen while he briefly glances inside my car. I reply yes, he says thank you, and I proceed with my road trip. (There is usually a K-9 on duty, and it’s a good thing I’m not into drugs, because the animal would sniff them out pretty quick.) I’m sure these border patrol officers are doing a great job, but in my opinion, this is pretty minimum security. I wouldn’t mind at all if these checkpoint stops were much stricter, like if I had to show the officer my driver’s license or prove my citizenship, even if it meant taking up more of my time. If tightening the reins keeps me and my country safe, it’s worth it.
I’ve never been to Arizona, so I don’t know how things are out there. Quite frankly, if it’s anything like West Texas, it might be a place where racism is accepted or even encouraged. So, maybe their controversial immigration law is a terrible thing because it could potentially stir up even more racism. But what if it’s just a law that facilitates law enforcement officers’ authority to simply enforce the law?
This is a very silly example, but just say for the sake of argument that it is illegal to carry gummi bears inside bandanas. Even though the law is on the books, many people have chosen to ignore it and wrap gummi bears inside their bandanas and smuggle them everywhere, anyway. People wearing bandanas bulging with gummi bears stand outside movie theaters and grocery stores and hold picket signs, chanting that they have every right to keep gummi bears in their bandanas because they live in this great country. So, lawmakers pass a new law that requires police officers to inspect any bandanas they see anyone wearing and check for gummi bears. Anyone caught will be forced to give up their gummi bears and bandanas. Um, I don’t think it would be considered profiling if a police officer pulled over a motorist for speeding, for example, and noticed that the driver happened to be wearing a bandana and asked to inspect it for gummi bears. I think it would be considered common sense.
One evening about 2 or 3 years ago, I came across a Nickelodeon special that dealt with immigration. They interviewed a little girl whose family was here from Mexico illegally. She spoke English well and was enrolled in school here. But anytime her family heard that “la migra” (border patrol) was in their neighborhood, she and her entire family would stay quietly inside their house and try to make it look like they weren’t home. (Kind of like how the people in The Diary of Anne Frank would stay as quiet as possible during the day.) During these times when “la migra” was cracking down, no one in her family would go to school or work for fear of being caught and deported. And it is a legitimate fear. But that sounds like a terrible way to live. What kind of life is that? And what kind of lesson are that little girl and her siblings learning? That it’s OK to break the law as long as you don’t get caught?
The immigration issue can often be a tragic one: Families can be separated and people can even die trying to cross the border to freedom, albeit illegally. But I, for one, do not want this next generation to be a lawless one. I want all residents of American soil to enjoy the freedoms that our forefathers founded for us, and I want all immigrants to respect American freedoms and laws. God bless America -- my America!
Tuesday, June 1, 2010
Cataerobics: Final update!
If you’re curious about my battle with Tommy’s weight loss, please see my posts from 4/24/09 and 5/30/09.
Victory! Tommy weighed in at 12 and a half pounds this year, losing approximately 2 and a half pounds! (At first, I thought the scale was broken.) Hallelujah!! :) I kinda gave up on doing Cataerobics, so I mainly just micromanaged his food intake and switched to a Purina variety that helps with weight control. A few times, I fed him canned food instead of dry, like his vet suggested last year, but the vast majority of his meals consisted of dry food. I could barely tell any difference, but maybe you can now. The BEFORE picture was taken in 12/09...
Victory! Tommy weighed in at 12 and a half pounds this year, losing approximately 2 and a half pounds! (At first, I thought the scale was broken.) Hallelujah!! :) I kinda gave up on doing Cataerobics, so I mainly just micromanaged his food intake and switched to a Purina variety that helps with weight control. A few times, I fed him canned food instead of dry, like his vet suggested last year, but the vast majority of his meals consisted of dry food. I could barely tell any difference, but maybe you can now. The BEFORE picture was taken in 12/09...
...and the AFTER picture was taken earlier this evening.
In case you’re curious, I did download some tunes from the Flashdance soundtrack, but not for Tommy -- for me, the maniac. ‘Cause I’m dancin’ like I’ve never danced beforrrrre.
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