Weirdness and Introspection Brought To You By Facebook

Facebook is weird. The current weirdness is due to old High School classmates finding and friending me.

I find this odd because none of these people were my friends in high school. They fell into 2 categories:

1. I knew of them, as in name and maybe they were on such’n’such sports teams; or

2. I actively avoided them because they were “cool” and I wasn’t and…well…I just avoided them.

But now, they’re all “friend me!” on Facebook. I revert back to HS Lauren who fiercely protected everything about me because to open up at all, even on something as stupid and innocuous as Facebook, meant certain ridicule and pain.

N would say it’s time to let my fear go (pfffhht…10 years…whatever) and I should just get over it. Still, even after 10 years, some of those memories still hurt. But I know he’s right.

I mean, I’m not the same person, so they must not be either, right? So maybe people who scared the daylights out of me in High School would be my BFFs now?

I also find it very odd who is married and who isn’t. In fact, the people I was certain would get married right away are single and many I thought would take years to get married didn’t.

I do, however, feel perfectly justified in holding a grudge against Facebook: nothing that juvenile should cause serious introspection. Seriously.

Esprit de l’escalier: “Searching for a boy in high school is as useless as searching for meaning in a Pauly Shore movie” ~ Cher, Clueless

Theading Roughts: Still reading. And it’s still good.

Currently Reading The Undercover Economist: Exposing Why the Rich Are Rich, the Poor Are Poor--and Why You Can Never Buy a Decent Used Car! By Tim Harford see related

Bodice- Ripping Fiction

Books figure into much of my conversation (duh) and after the inevitable “Oh, you’re a reader!” people ask, “So, what do you read?”

To which I answer, “Anything but modern horror / suspense / crime, westerns and self-help.”

Which is true; I deliberately read from a wide array of subjects and genres, both fiction and non-fiction.

But cleverly disguised in this statement is a truth many don’t realize.

I read Romance Novels.

And inevitable when people know that, they’re opinion of me drops significantly and I get the, “Oh, you read those sort of books. Well, I thought you read real books.”

I could rain verbal fire and brimstone on such ignoramuses (what is the plural of that? anyone?) who dare judge me by the books I read, but then, that’d be hypocritical, because up until a few years ago, I responded the same way.

Romance Novels take a lot of criticism, both from literary critics and from people with moral objections.

One common criticism is they are female porn, no different then Playboy. Another is they promote an unrealistic view of romantic relationship and sex.

Some Christians believe it is a sin to read them. Some think its okay as long as there’s no sex or kissing and the heroines believes in God.

I think, for some people, reading them is bad. I agree that some are more pornography than story. When I was single, I knew God did not want me reading them. But now, I don’t feel the same. Even so, I still occasionally return a book to the store after reading a few pages because it is more explicit then I’m comfortable with.

I don’t find myself possessed of an unrealistic view of love from them. Perhaps it’s my personality (logic over emotion) or the fact I live in a real marriage in the real world or that I don't believe real love is easy.

In the end, I find them an occasional respite from the less-fluffy classics or non-fiction and an enjoyable story form.

But I know many people think differently than I.

So, here’re my questions:

Do you think Romance novels are “real” literature?

Do you think reading them is A. a Sin for everyone, B. a Sin for some (like alcohol) or C. a Sin for no one?

Why do or don't you read them?

Esprit de l’escalier: “Literature is where I go to explore the highest and lowest places in human society and in the human spirit, where I hope to find not absolute truth but the truth of the tale, of the imagination and of the heart.” ~ Salman Rushdie

Theading Roughts: This was the most recent read. I average about 1 every 4-6 weeks, mostly when I tired and just want a good story. This author is a favorite because she writes historical fiction (my preferred sub-genre) with amusing characters, good dialogue and a bit of humor.

Currently Reading The Bride Hunt By Jane Feather see related

Piddling

Some of you may have noticed on the friendly banter between Brian and I involving the word “Piddler” or “Piddling” or some variation.

Let me enlighten you to the origins of this word, and forewarn you that this is a Camp Story, and well, actually, many of you know what that means.

Near the end of the summer, Kimmy, Brian and I became counselors for a pack of younger children, most between the ages of 6-8.

And it was Pool Time.

As many of you know, Pool Time for kids this age is the Best Time Ever – it’s what they live for, dream about and ask about at least 50 times a day.

Miss Lauren, are we going to pool? When are we going? Can we go now? How about Now?

And I’m all, “YES WE ARE GOING TO THE POOL FOR THE LOVE OF ALL THAT IS HOLY GO BACK TO BED AND LET ME SLEEP!”

Okay, so I didn’t really say that, but I could have. Being poked awake at 6am by a bright-eyed 7-year-old requesting Pool Time is not something that promotes Gentleness or Compassion.

Anyway, on this particular day, Kimmy, Brian and I had herded our charges to the pool and happily chucked them in. Now, camp rules dictated that counselors must be in the pool with the kids (both for safety and for fun) but this day was so cold and the water temperature hovered just above freezing.

So you can imagine our reluctance to jump in – particularly Brian.

See, Brian doesn’t swim. At all. Ever. He views the whole water thing with trepidation and distaste.

And me, being the sympathetic person that I am, told him to “Quit piddling and get in the pool!”

So he called upon the Strength of God, summoned his courage and got in the absolutely glacial water.

Kimmy and I sincerely applauded Brian’s courage. And then decided that one counselor in the water was good enough. No need for all of us to jump in.

When Brian rather strongly objected, we told him you’d have to be stark raving mad to get in that water. Oh, and quit piddling – the kids need him to be the Shark for a game of Sharks and Minnows.

Esprit de l’escalier: “If one synchronized swimmer drowns, do all the rest have to drown too?” ~ Steven Wright

Theading Roughts: I heard about this book on NPR and, wow, it’s amazing! I highly recommend. I’m working on at least two posts about ideas he proposes – I’m interested in what ya’ll think. But seriously, if you have a chance, read it. You will never look at buying coffee the same way again.

Currently Reading The Undercover Economist: Exposing Why the Rich Are Rich, the Poor Are Poor--and Why You Can Never Buy a Decent Used Car! By Tim Harford see related

Fairy Tale Romance, Modern Style

Reader Request: How I Met My Husband
Submitted by: At Least 3 People.

It’s a long story, but I decided against breaking it into several posts. So, here you go – how I married N:

In March of 2004, S decided to return to Makemie Woods Camp as a counselor. He had work there for several summers and spoke highly of this place.

I remember distinctly thinking, “Thank God I’m not going”.

Famous last words, right?

But somehow, within two weeks, I found myself applying, interviewing and accepting a job as a camp counselor. I’m still not sure how that happened.

And I remember being scared out of my mind.

Children, as a social group, scare me to death.

Not individual children, mind you, like my sister, H’s daughter, SM’s kids, but on the whole, I find large herds of kids to be sticky, smelly, needy and totally out of my league. I think it’s because I navigate thru logic and logic doesn’t apply to kids. So my paradigm is off and I don’t know what to do, so I just don’t do kids.

And here I was, signed up to spend 2 ½ months as a camp counselor.

I think I had, on average, about 8 bazillion panic attacks per day.

In fact, I still have panic attacks, but then I remind myself camp is over and has been for like, 3 years, and I’m okay.

As it turned out, God wanted me at camp. He often moves us out of our comfort zone so we are forced to rely on Him, and camp was a place I learned moment-by-moment dependence of God. Otherwise I would have lost my mind.

I was also blessed to meet incredible people who taught me more about acceptance, grace, love, fun and God than I’d ever known. God used camp to heal many old wounds and to open me up in ways I never thought I could, and I will be grateful to Him and those people for the rest of my life.

But like all things, camp end in August, and I returned to Gainesville. I did my best to keep in touch, but I’m not a telephone person and it was hard for me.

In January 2005, Brian started the Makemie Woods blog ring on Xanga, and convinced me to join. I’d never heard of blogging, but it seemed an ideal way to stay in touch.

A few weeks after I joined, Brian convinced another staffer, from the 2003 Summer, to join. His name was N.

I knew exactly two things about this person:

1. He was the counselor in the Stuck-with-a-Fork Story and;

2. He was Homo Hero, the main character from the infamous superhero skits.

Shortly after he joined, he posted on a book he was reading. I, of course, commented back. He commented back, and this rapidly escalated into enormous length comments and we switched to emailing each other every day.

These 4 and 5 pages emails ranged over every topic; I had never found someone who I could converse with on such a broad range or who I enjoyed talking with so much.

This continued from the end of January 2005 until late March 2005. I was falling hard for him, and that wasn’t normal. I am intensely wary of romantic entanglements, and I was scared because the more I knew him, the more I loved him.

I finally decided to take a chance, and I planned to trip to Newport News in April to met him. It was a wonderful trip. We sword fought in his backyard, ate dinner with his parents and drove to see Billy play at a Christian coffee house, getting horribly lost on the way.

As we were driving, I realize I wanted to be his girlfriend, and I really wanted to hold his hand. But I knew he was a cautious man and wouldn’t push me or ask until he was certain.

So, on April 15^th, I asked him out. And he said yes – after nearly 2 minutes of shock silence because, as he said, no one had ever done that before.

And I said, well, I was tired of waiting and I want to hold your hand. And I did. And the next day was even better because he kissed me, and it was perfect and I knew I wanted to be with him always.

But I couldn’t stay in Virginia forever. I had to return to the land of Sunshine and Palm Trees, and my life there and I hurt to leave.

Being apart from him was the hardest thing. We continued to email, to IM, to talk on the phone, but none of it compared to sitting on his back patio as the stars appeared, and silently together watching night descend or laughing at the movie together or having dinner with his family.

I missed him.

And the more I was with him, the more I knew I wanted to be with him.

He said “I love you” early in the relationship. But after nearly 4 months together, I had yet to say it back to him.

It may sound odd, but I am very strict about who I say “I love you” too. I believe once you say it, you can’t take it back. No matter what happens, “I love you” is a forever thing, and you shouldn’t say it until you are ready to love that person forever. This applies to friends and family, not just romantic relationships.

No matter how much I wanted to be with him, I wanted to be certain I meant it when I said it.

He wanted a cross necklace, and he wanted it to mean something, so I decided to give him one. I search for hours online, trying to find the perfect one. But I found nothing.

I settled on giving him the Celtic Cross my Dad gave me years before.

When I saw him again, I handed it to him and said, “This was a gift from my Dad and it means a lot to me. But I’m giving it to you, and no matter what happens between us, I won’t ask for it back. Because I love you. And when you love some one, you don’t ask for it back.”

I left Virginia the next day, and it would be almost 2 months before I saw him again.

On September 30, 2005, I waited eagerly in the Jacksonville Airport for him. It felt forever since I’d seen him. His plane finally arrived and we walked to my car, laughing and holding hands.

I slid in to the car and turned from bucking my belt, when suddenly he was in front of me, holding a small black velvet box with the most exquisite ring - a flashing fiery diamond ring.

He said, grinning, “This ring belonged to my great-grandmother. It’s a family heirloom and means a lot to me and my family. But I’m giving it to you, and no matter what happens, I won’t ask for it back. Because I love you. And when you love someone, you can’t take it back.

Lauren, will you marry me?

I said sure.

At least, I think I did. I don’t remember that part clearly. I remember being so happy I knew I radiated it. That if I touch someone, I could transfer the happiness, that is was tangible, like light you could hold.

I remember kissing him, and then he said, “Uh, sure. Does that mean yes?”

And I said, “Yes, it means yes, you dork.”

And A Year and A Day Later, I stood before God and our Family and Friends, and pledge my love and life to him.

But that time, I said, “I Do.”

And We Lived Happily Ever After.

The End

Summer Reading List

Here is my starter list of books I would like to have read by September 1:

John Adams by David McCullough
The Patriot's Handbook by George Grant
The Undercover Economist by Tim Harford
The Complete Shorter Fiction of Virginia Woolf by Virginia Woolf
Humility by Andrew Murray
Rogue Angel: Solomon’s Jar by Alex Archer
The View from Saturday by E. L. Konigsberg
American Indian Poetry: An Anthology of Songs and Chants ed. by George W. Cronyn
The Crimson Fairy Book ed. by Andrew Lang
King Solomon’s Mines by H. Rider Haggard
Parables: Poking Holes In Religious Balloons by Jamie Buckingham
The Diary of Soren Kierkegaard ed. by Peter Rohde

Re-Reads

Sacred Marriage by Gary L. Thomas
The Secret Garden by Francis Hodges Burnett
The Hero and the Crown by Robin McKinley

I’ve endeavored not re-read books because I have so many un-read. But there are some stories I miss and can’t stay away. I’m allowing myself a few this summer.

I hope to read more for the summer, but this list is a good start.

What’s on your list?