Persecution and Martyrdom

So you know how it's a big cliche that people go to see therapists and blame everything on their mother? Well I'm here to tell you --

I have something I blame on my mother. :) Well, and my father.

You see, when I was four years old, my parents moved us from Morgantown, W.Va. in the northern part of the state to Huntington, W.Va. in the southern part of the state. No big deal, right? You would think not. However, in order to understand where this is going, you have to understand something about the state of West Virginia.

Not sure if you've picked up on this, but West Virginia does not have a good reputation in the United States concerning, well, just about anything whatsoever. We have more teenage pregnancies, more smokers, more obese people, etc. then pretty much anywhere else in the union. Except maybe Mississippi. In fact, West Virginia's unofficial motto is "Thank God for Mississippi" because if we rank 49th in something, chances are they're 50th. If we get any good press in the nation, it's usually because of one thing: our sports teams are doing well. Namely, the West Virginia University Mountaineers are doing well. And that's where our story really takes off.

West Virginia University is located in Morgantown, W.Va. Its colors are gold and blue and its football and basketball teams have a generally impressive reputation nationally. (However, please don't check the stats this year. If you can't help yourself, then please Google "Tavon Austin" or "Geno Smith.") The thing is -- the state of West Virginia has another school, Marshall University. It is located in Huntington, W.Va. Their colors are green and white and their teams are, frankly, crappy. Marshall used to have a good football team, but that was years ago and they have not been able to regain the glory days of the '90s. 

So, let's review: West Virginia University -- named after the state, colors are the state colors; Marshall University -- mostly completely unrelated to the state of West Virginia in general except it's located within the state lines. 

My mother grew up in Morgantown, my dad grew up in north central West Virginia, dad went to WVU, my grandparents are in Morgantown, my mom's sister is in Morgantown, my great aunts and uncles are all in Morgantown, etc. etc. Needless to say, I live in a family of die-hard WVU fans. And this really shouldn't be shocking, as most of the entire state of West Virginia are WVU fans. There is one exception -- those residing in the county of Cabell are Marshall fans. And by Marshall fans, I mean WVU HATERS. HATE. ERS. Below is a rendering of college football fandom in the state of West Virginia. The green represents where Marshall fans (and I) reside. The yellow represents where WVU fans live. 

So my four-year-old bred-to-love-WVU self was callously uprooted from my home in Morgantown to move to Huntington, home of Marshall fans. My parents had FIFTY FOUR COUNTIES of WVU fans in which to choose to live, but those hatas chose the ONE COUNTY where we would suffer endless persecution. The excuse they provide is "dad found a job here!" What kind of reason is that?! If WVU is a religion, then the Huntington Lafferres are its chief martyrs. I mean seriously -- when you cross the Cabell county line and enter into Putnam, BAM -- WVU fans. No one gives a little hootie patootie about Marshall outside of this county. 

I'm sure they do this outside of West Virginia, but in our city certain days of school were designated "wear your Marshall shirt to school day." Well that's cool, what if YOU DON'T HAVE ONE? Trying to get someone to watch the WVU game with you on Saturday? Say hello to hanging out with your parents only. Going on a date and hoping to find a mutual love of college football? BY ALL MEANS DON'T SAY THE LETTERS WVU. 

The thing is -- in my family, we are actually Marshall fans too. We want them to do well, watch their games and cheer them on. Do we get any reciprocal love from Marshall fans for our dear school? Pfffffffffffffffffff. Negative. 

All I'm saying is, it's not my fault that seeing those gold and blue jerseys jog onto the field with the sun beating down and the smell of the leaves in the air just does something to my heart. IT WAS THE WAY I WAS BORN. I have seen my grandmother get more upset about more WVU sports-related incidents than you would ever believe for a grandma. Let's just say. 

If I never get married because no one in this area can get past my love of the gold and blue, it will not be my fault. I'm looking at YOU Luke and Kathy Lafferre. I'm looking at you. 

Am I Right or am I Right?

I went to a baby shower yesterday for my friend, also named Anna. I don't know her well, we are friends through Junior League, but she is very sweet and I was so happy to celebrate her impending baby girl.

The thing is -- it was sort of weird to attend a baby shower for someone else named Anna. Even writing her a card was weird. "Anna -- Congratulations on your wonderful baby girl! I am so happy for you." And I sat there reading my own name being congratulated for being pregnant with a baby girl. And it just felt so... I don't know, a lot of things. Weird, sad, funny.

I realized that once you're pregnant and/or have had a baby, it's perfectly socially acceptable to say "I've always wanted to be a mom!" However, if you are a 28-year-old single girl, it is so totally NOT okay to say "I've always wanted to be a mom!" Because once that gem pops out of your mouth, you are desperate, lonely and crazy. Not to mention someone is going to pontificate about you and your "biological clock." (I hate that crap.)

The truth is, no one wants to be seen as desperate, lonely and/or crazy. Or any combination of the above. But I firmly believe -- no, I KNOW -- that there are many, many girls out there who are not desperate or crazy but who would very much like to get married and have a baby. These are professional women; they've gone to law school and medical school, they're journalists and they work at non-profits. They own their own homes or rent their own apartments, they pay all of their bills, they are interesting, funny, great conversationalists and tons of fun. And they would all like to get married and have a baby.

Does this mean that they are trying to marry themselves off to the next guy they brush into on the metro or the grocery store? Um, no. Does this mean that they plan their wedding to every guy they go on two dates with? Again, no. Please read again: they are not crazy. But why is it not okay to talk about an aspiration to be a mother? It's totally cool to aspire to be a doctor or a teacher or an astronaut. But "I would like to be a mom" -- you just zip that up right now! And also, buy yourself six cats and some XXL sweatpants because the desperation is wafting off of you like smog in LA and who wants that?

The older you get, the harder it gets too. Your friends have kids, you don't and they have those "moms night out!" nights together. To which you are, for obvious reasons, not invited. You also get to be on the receiving end of those sweet questions like "Why aren't you married?" Ummmm... honestly how does one answer that? "OhImean,well,marriedyouknow,ohisthatmyphoneringing?Gottago."

I guess what I'm trying to say is -- one day I would like to be married and have a baby. And quite clearly that is not an okay thing to publicly proclaim. I need to talk about my job or the dance studio or the Young Professionals Committee or the Junior League AND HOW MUCH I LOVE MY LIFE! !!!!! But I absolutely cannot even insinuate or even think to myself that I'd like a baby. Because that makes me desperate.

The thing is -- I do like my job. And the dance studio. And my life. I feel like I live a very full life with lots of love and interesting stories. But I don't think that's mutually exclusive with also wanting to be married with a baby one day. And having to feel like a weirdo for wanting that  makes it even worse. Like I know few people who even read this blog and I'm almost afraid to even write this here.

So what do we do besides have our middle-of-the-night parking lot with only one other girlfriend conversations about our hopes and worries? Maybe stop talking about it in the embarrassed, hushed tones like we're confessing we want to kick our dog or bought a fake Prada bag. Keep living our lives and praying for acceptance of God's will -- and also teaching 22 3- and 4-year-olds at ballet if you are so inclined. (And then going home later and thanking the Good Lord Jesus for the quiet of your house!)

All I'm saying is it's not cool to have to pretend you don't want something for your life that you want. I think if we brought this out into the open and made it okay, we'd find that our network is a LOT bigger than we even think.

7QTF: All I Know is I Don't Know

1. So I'd like to think I'm a pretty smart girl. I have my own apartment, I run a non-profit, people seem to feel like they can use big words when they talk to me. But this evening I was clicking around on Comcast OnDemand and it asked me if I wanted to watch my show regular or in HD. Now, I obviously know that HD stands for High Definition. But then it occurred to me...

2. What in the crap is high definition really? I mean I get that the picture is sharper blah blah but do I need a special TV for it? Or does everyone's TV have it? Can you just upgrade the TV you have? And do you know what else I honestly don't understand?...

3. The economy. Inflation, raising the national interest rate, the debt ceiling. I seriously just do not get it. Possibly this makes me sound incredibly ignorant, but I'm going to stand up and say I'M A SMART PERSON BUT I DO NOT UNDERSTAND HOW THE ECONOMY WORKS. Like the value of the dollar changes and things that used to cost $1.23 now cost $4.88? I'm pretty sure Emma Watson doesn't get it either.

4. Along with that I do not understand the stock market. People buy shares and invest their money in things and the Dow Jones Industrial Average goes up and goes down. I truly could not type one full sentence about how this works or makes people money.

5. Mortgage rates. I understand what a mortgage is, but what does 3% fixed over 30 years mean? How much are you really paying for this house? And why is the system set up this way? Why does it take so long to pay for your house? And in related news, what is home equity? ME AND THIS GUY WANT TO KNOW WHY WE JUST CAN'T PAY MONEY FOR THINGS WE BUY?

6. What is an alternator and what does it do? I understand that it's something in your car and it breaks but I have no clue what it looks like, what it controls or why it's important.

7. Companies like Twitter and Facebook and Instagram -- how do they make money? People don't pay to use them, and I'm pretty sure neither Twitter nor Instagram have advertisements on them, so seriously how do they stick around and how are their employees getting paid?

I'm sure you totally think that I am the stupidest person in the world, but I stand by my position that I am not the only smart person in the world who just does not understand how some things work. I think some people are just afraid of looking stupid. And I guess I am too. But no more. I don't understand and I'm not afraid to say it.

Go see Jen to spend time with the less confused.

Friday Eve

Sometimes I have a bad day or am tired or worn out, but then I look down and I remember:

There is a rabbit under my bed.

A rabbit who may or may not have a drinking problem. 

Thirty-Six

Can we all just agree to agree that the three worst chores on the planet are laundry, taking out the trash and getting your oil changed?

Honestly I think my least favorite of the least favorites is laundry. I would rather do anything than laundry. I would rather scrub my toilet with no gloves and a toothbrush than do laundry. I think it's because there is absolutely no instant gratification with laundry. First you have to sort it, then you have to wash a load, then you have to put it in the dryer or on the drying rack, then you have to repeat with another load, then when it's dry you have to fold it or hang it up. Or if you're me, you leave it in the laundry closet until the second coming.

I tell you, laundry is from the devil. No way is Michael the Archangel or Noah or my grandpa up in heaven doing laundry.

Typically, the way I operate is to pile all my clean laundry into the one laundry basket I own and just keep piling it and piling it. As long as it's "in" that basket, then it really hasn't gotten too out of  hand. It pretty  much takes me realizing that I have literally dressed myself from clothes only located in the laundry basket for several days in a row to actually put my crap away.

I didn't realize how bad it had gotten until the other day.

All that stuff is "in" the basket, right?

In that basket I found my Christmas pajamas. As in, the pajamas I wore on Christmas Day. The Christmas Day that occurred about a month ago. I also found a dress I wore during Nutcracker tech week. Nutcracker was Dec. 8 and 9. I think the most telling detail was the individual pairs of underwear located in that basket. Guess how many.

Guess.

36. THIRTY-SIX. I honestly didn't even know I owned that many pairs of underwear. Do you know how many people live here? Guess how many.

Guess.

1 (one). ME.

Amazing.

Semi-Homemade

I burned my hand last night. I was reaching in the oven to pull out my dinner, and my hand rubbed right against the hot part at the top of the oven.

I was pulling out this really delicious veggie lasagna I had made myself.

BWHAHAHAHAHA. No way dude. I was pulling out the Taco Bell I had drive thru'd and placed in the oven on warm so it would stay sort of hot while I showered. Turning the oven on was a bigger step in the cooking department than I've taken in a while.

"I made myself." As if.

Faith the Size of a Small Rabbit

This is Snicks. He sometimes likes to sleep with his face smashed up on the wall. I think it's so funny so I like to capture it on "film" -- via my digital iPhone cameraaaa -- from time to time.

As I took this picture today, I thought about how much faith Snickers has in me. He sleeps soundly knowing that I will protect him. He has faith that when he wakes up there will be food for him to eat, water for him to drink and a clean place for him to go to the bathroom. He has faith that I will hug him and love him and meet all of his needs.

And I'm just a person.

If Snicks has all this endless faith in me, I wondered why sometimes it's so hard to have faith that my heavenly Father will meet all of my needs. I worry constantly -- all day long -- about so many things: projects at work and whether I'll get them done correctly or on time; the dance studio and the millions of things that must be done there daily, the least of which being I have kids who need loved; my future and the possibility of marriage and a family; my mental health; the needs of my family and friends. Worry worry WORRY.

I think I could stand to take a lesson from Snickers the Bunny and have faith that I have a Parent who meets all of my needs, already knows my future and has a beautiful plan for me -- if I only open my heart up to His will and quit trying to do things by myself my own way.

 Like my favorite song of the moment says: to You my future is a memory cause You're already there.