…I’m just dancing with myself
Sometimes I feel like I’m being watched. Not in the creepy “I Know What You Did Last Summer Way,” but in the – the world is my stage – kind of way. I am living the life every single girl in every single romantic comedy leads in the first hour of the movie. You know, the first hour is what gets you hooked – it’s what you relate to. They do this so that in the second hour – when the man with the perfectly white teeth and recently plucked eyebrows appears on the scene – and because they’ve made you believe that you could be her in the first hour, you believe you could be her in the second hour. But I’m not here to talk about the second hour.
I came home this evening and perfectly timed – it started raining just as soon as I set my foot out of my car door. I made a dash for my apartment, tripping and almost falling over the neighbors toy car. I waved hello to my other neighbors, who I don’t know, but we both pretend to, and finally let myself inside. It was the best feeling – walking inside, hanging my perfectly white coat on the hook that also holds an apron that I never use and a purse I bought to make myself feel better after a long week.
My day hasn’t been stressful much, just long, and was one of many just like it. I come inside and immediately throw off my (ridiculously cute) heels and change into sweatpants that are too big for me. I walk through my (ridiculously cute) apartment and plug in the Christmas lights that I’ve hung, even though many people won’t be through to see them. My apartment tells the viewer much about who I am – what I love and who I love. It’s at this moment the viewer thinks, man, that place looks like I could live there.
It’s quiet as I sort quickly through my mail and hope for something other than ads and bills, but there is none. As I wash my hands, I hit the soap dispenser too hard and soap flies across the sink right onto my pants and on the floor, and, in a moment of comic relief and a moment of realness, I have to catch myself on the sink to keep from slipping on the soap I forgot about.
And as I’m microwaving my Lean Cuisine (ravioli – it’s the best) and curling up in one corner of my large leather couch with my dinner in one hand and glass of sparkling raspberry champagne (because, why not?) I’m at home and I feel like it, too. The cozy Christmas lights and Charlie Brown tree in the corner make the viewer feel the same, and for an instant, they think, I could be that girl.
Too often I remember only the second half of the movie. But if it weren’t for the first half, the second half wouldn’t mean a whole lot, now would it?
…because I can unabashadly proclaim my love for Brady Quinn….
…and friends send me things like this. (thanks Laurie!)
…because I hate cooking.
…you’re gonna hear my voice when I shout it out loud
I am 0-2 with summer movies so far. I don’t usually do the movie theater thing (unless of course it involves Miley Cyrus and/or Zac Efron.) But so far Ben Stiller and Matthew McConaughey have let me down.
I promised thoughts on why summer is so much easier for me in my next post. And those will come soon. But I also wanted to start a new series, if you will. A series of blog posts on why I’m OK with my singleness. For now.
I’ve written and talked about wanting to write a book for a long time. For all the Christian single ladies in churches around the country that are having a tough time fitting themselves in. We’re not in college anymore, but just because we’re single doesn’t mean we have to settle in and start raising that brood of cats. Amen?
And so in an effort to prove that single people count in church, too – and we’re more than just being that person to pick up all the odd jobs that married people just don’t have time for anymore – Once a week (maybe more, maybe less – hey, it’s my blog, I do what I want) I’ll post a reason of why I’m OK with my singleness.
-disclaimer- I know what you married people are thinking. Oh my gosh, Meg is never going to get married now that she’s settling into this! We have to find her a man, and quick! I hope that’s not true. I hope that because I’m good with being single for now, it doesn’t mean I’m not hoping to join your ranks one day. Because I am. But God doesn’t have that ready for me yet, and so I wait.
But if you do happen across a tall, good Christian man, that’s certainly no reason to not point him my way…
First “all my single ladies” post will come tonight!