Through a Glass, Darkly

In high school, I would probably have said that I embraced being a nerd. Captain of the Quiz Bowl team, valedictorian, hanging out in the library rather than “Senior Hall.” Nerd, nerd, nerd, nerd, nerd. And though I was not going to change those things, I didn’t feel secure in who I was and in my friendships. I still longed to fit in. I didn’t embrace who I was. Who I am. A nerd. The relationships and the experiences I have had since then have given me a lot more perspective. I mean, for crying out loud, I have my Master’s in Library Science. What is that but a whole program full of nerds?

What I wouldn’t have guessed is how much more comfortable with myself my experiences have made me. In my early 20s, I felt pretty beat down by the weight of other people’s expectations and criticism. Exercising and learning how to feed my body in a more healthy way have given me a much greater handle on who I am and what is important to me. Some of the things that I have worked through over the years have given me more confidence and grounded me in some important ways. We are also incredibly lucky to be blessed with a group of friends who understand that, really, everyone is a little bit strange.

I don’t take these friends for granted, because I have been in relationships in the past where it was clear that I was not living up to expectations. Not to say these friends are perfect, but I appreciate that they care about who I am more than who they think I ought to be. This has played out on Monday nights, which are official Ultimate Frisbee nights for a group of our friends. They pressured me to play last summer, and I declined, but this year they asked again, and I thought, “Well, the running part of it might be a nice workout.” But I was finally honest that the reason I wasn’t too keen on playing was the very expensive eye surgery I had a few years ago. I don’t really fancy doing damage to my eyes. Jokingly I said, “If someone gets me some goggles, I will play.”

I have said these kinds of things before, and everyone laughs because no one expects me to wear goggles to play Ultimate Frisbee. Because only a real nerd would do that. But my friend both understood why I wanted them and took my “request” seriously. She showed up with goggles, which I wore. I looked ridiculous, and I knew I looked ridiculous, but what I loved about it was that no one really seemed to care. Most people didn’t even ask, and I got a couple of double takes, but everyone who asked was really cool about it. I get caught up in those teenage emotions that maybe everyone is looking at me, so it’s nice to be reminded that my friends don’t even notice weirdness like big goggles. They embrace big goggles. They think big goggles are so normal that they aren’t even worth mentioning.

So I wear safety goggles to play Ultimate Frisbee. I am also terrible at Ultimate Frisbee, but no one seems to care about that, either. Inspired by my goggles, one friend is planning on wearing gloves next week because she hurt her hand playing last year. Soon we will all be wearing safety equipment. And to think a nerd like me started it all.

I have a bit of a sore throat, and I took some Tylenol PM last night. So this morning, I am not really sure that I can run. Benadryl hangover, wooo! Instead of running, maybe I will tell you about my running playlist. It horrifies Mike, who says, “That has more swears per minute than any of my playlists.” Let us examine the list and see if that is so.

In no particular order:

-”1492″ by Counting Crows. Fast? Check. Swearing? No, actually. But this one does say “tranny whores.”

-”Snakes on the Plane (Bring It)” by Cobra Starship. Fast? Check. Swearing? Oh, yes. Including Samuel L. Jackson’s infamous line.

-”The Raiders March” by John Williams. Well, uh, no words. So no swearing. But I love it when this comes up. “I will make it up this hill by the power of Indiana Jones!”

-”Bitch” by Meredith Brooks. I think this one is self-explanatory. I just want to say that Melissa laughed a lot when I told her this was on my running mix. It is another one that is great for hills. It also raises the average of the swears.

-”Revolution” by The Beatles. This is the one off Past Masters, with the really heavy guitars. No swearing. But the guitars keep me moving.

-”Stronger” by Kanye West. Scott said he can’t run to this, but he probably runs faster than I do. This one is great for me. And if you have heard it, you know that there is, in fact, a lot of swearing.

-”We Used to be Friends” by The Dandy Warhols. I have been using this one for running ever since I put it on a mix CD for Alisa. No actual swearing.

-”Miami” by Counting Crows. This one starts off kind of slow, but by the time it gets to, “Come on baby, let’s go shut it down in New Orleans,” I think it works as a running song. I like how angry it is. And, yes, there is one swear.

-”Jesus Walks” by Kanye West. I flat-out love this song. I am also glad to know that I am not the only one who loves to run to it. Swearing? Check.

-”Livin’ On a Prayer” by Bon Jovi. Mike and I had a discussion about whether this was a better choice or whether “You Give Love a Bad Name” (which starts off stronger) is a better choice. I happen to love this song (so tough), so I chose it instead. There is no swearing, only awesomeness.

-”Since U Been Gone” by Kelly Clarkson. This is the only Kelly Clarkson song I can run to. If I had had to guess, I would have thought there was swearing in this song. But there is not!

-”Chariots of Fire Theme” by Vangelis. Mike put this on there, and it’s good for starting, but not so great when I am in the middle of a run. However, it does make me laugh, which I appreciate. No lyrics = no swears.

As you can see, the reports of my playlist have been greatly exaggerated. And I thought that I was the one with the tendency toward hyperbole. For shame, Mike. For shame.

Almost every morning, I come downstairs and find my travel mug cleaned out and draining beside our sink. It is especially difficult to open, and Mike knows that, so he opens it almost every morning and cleans out yesterday’s coffee. It’s one of my favorite morning things, to turn the kitchen corner and see my mug sitting there. I appreciate how Mike takes care of the little things, and as we have been searching for a house, I see how much of that falls on him as well. Mostly because he has more time, but that doesn’t mean I appreciate it any less.

Looking for a house is difficult - when we bought this house, it was kind of like choosing my wedding dress. I “knew” that was the right dress, and we “knew” this was the right house. This time around, things are a little bit more complicated, and we have been weighing what we want and who we think we are more than we did the last time. We think we have settled on a house, though. We are going to go look at it again tomorrow and probably decide for sure. We are thankful to have people who are helping us make a good decision, but it also makes me miss my dad.

We went to one of the older theaters in town to see Indiana Jones today. It just seemed right, to see it without stadium seating or big fancy surround sound. I wouldn’t call it the best Indiana Jones movie (that’s Raiders, of course) or my favorite (that’s Last Crusade), but it was good, uncomplicated fun. Parts of it were a little overly silly, but I enjoyed myself and had a good time. Also, it was only $8.00 for both of us. I bet you paid more than $8.00 for one ticket! My dad has been on my mind lately because of this movie coming out. I don’t know exactly when I saw my first Indiana Jones movie, but I think that it was when we rented the VHS of Raiders and Temple of Doom one time when my dad and I were both sick. Seeing them when we were both sick always made Indiana Jones feel like something special that my dad and I shared (in between puking our guts out). (Temple of Doom did not exactly make me feel better, let me tell you.) The first time I saw the trailer for the new movie, I cried a little bit, because it made me miss him and because it was weird that there was another movie and he wouldn’t be here to see it. I think he would have thought the same thing I did - fun movie. A little bit silly, but fun.

I just finished The Off Season by Catherine Gilbert Murdock, and while I didn’t like it quite as much as I liked Dairy Queen (I never wrote about that book, but I thought it was pretty fantastic), the ending really got me. Now, those of you who think that you might be interested should probably stop here, because I’m going to be quoting from the last paragraph of the book.

All gone? Okay then.

But the thing is, Dad’s not too fond of easy lives. Probably jealous, for one thing. But he’s also seen how a tough life can make you stronger. It got Win and Bill all the way to college because they worked so hard at football. It got Win fighting for his survival. That’s why Dad agreed to take Brian on last summer, because Jimmy Ott wanted Brian to get a work ethic and Schwenk Farm grows that better than anything. And Brian did learn how to work hard, and all season he started as QB thanks to us. But I guess he never learned those other kinds of toughness, like how to stand up to your so-called friends, and how to defend those people who really are your friends even if they’re unpopular or poor or the wrong size. I think what Dad was saying that night–although I’m not sure because I’m never going to ask him–is that Brian’s life has been too easy, and that maybe, just maybe, I deserve someone better. Someone else who’s strong enough to take on a whole herd of trouble when it comes their way.

Now, of course, in most ways Mike and I have easy lives. We have all the benefits of people who live in this country, and we have a home and we never have to worry about food and we get to go to the movies and see Indiana Jones just because we want to. But at the same time, we have faced a herd of trouble here and there, and it has had his challenges. And as I finished this book the day before he graduated, I thought about the man I married, the man who stood up for me against his family, who reinvented himself in order to better provide for us, who was strong for me when my daddy was sick. I wish things had been easier for him, and I wish some of those things hadn’t happened to us. But I am proud to be married to a man who can take on a whole herd of trouble and come out stronger for it.

On a lighter note, how about some pictures?

I like to call this picture, “Spent four years prostrate to the higher mind, got my paper and I was free.” Special thanks to my brother for taking pictures that day. Also, it explains the veritable cornucopia of pictures of pretty girls. (Just kidding. I mean, there were lots of pictures of pretty girls. But that’s because the education department is pretty much all female.)

Would you like to see what Mike’s cake looked like?

Yes, that is a sea turtle with a graduation cap on. Our friend Deb is awesome. She came up with that idea and executed it awesomely.

From time to time, I feel compelled to come up with evidence that I am actually trying to better myself. So let’s talk about the tote bags under our guest bed!

I am not good at wrapping presents. Since that post, Kelly forced me to purchase wrapping paper at Target so that I would have something in which to wrap presents for her unborn child. I bought some pink paper at Target. I gave her baby some books. All was right with the world. Except that I still did a lousy job actually wrapping the present. And that wrapping paper just seems so darn wasteful. So I suppose we could say that all was okay with the world, but there was still some room for improvement, to be honest.

But then! Then Mike came home with a brilliant plan. You see, he was at Gardenridge for some reason . . .

Okay, let me pause right there. Let’s just talk about how great Mike is that he was even in Gardenridge by himself. He’s so fantastic. I told some friends the things that I am about to tell you, and they were like, “That is awesome, but I don’t want to have to go to Gardenridge.” Which is also how I feel. But Mike is good at big store shopping like that, and also he has good ideas about the sorts of things one can buy at Gardenridge. It’s good that one of us does.

. . . He was at Gardenridge for some reason, and he saw some tote bags there. In various colors. For $1 each. (Gardenridge doesn’t have anything I can link to.) And he came home and said, “What if we wrapped presents in those instead?” So we went to Gardenridge and purchased 30 bags in various colors. And now we are going to try giving presents in these. You guys, this is brilliant! These bags are cheaper than gift bags, and they are useful! I realize that now if you get a bag from me, you will know that it only cost a dollar, but I don’t even care. That is how great an idea I think this is.

I know that you are wondering how this means I am growing, since it was Mike who came up with this brilliant solution. Would you accept the answer that “we are one?” Because I always like to use that answer when it is convenient.

When someone starts a sentence with, “I don’t believe in ______,” you know there is a but coming. You’ve been forewarned.

I don’t believe in omens, but I’ve seen Apollo 13 enough times that what happened on Wednesday concerned me. I was clearing calculators for the EOG tests next week, and I reached kind of sideways and behind me and my hand hit the chair, and suddenly my diamond ring broke. For those of you who care about these sorts of things, the whole setting fell out of the middle. So the diamond was still in the setting, but the setting was no longer in the ring. I was able to get all the pieces off the floor, but it was so strange. I have worn it while doing much more difficult/dangerous things, but it breaks while I am clearing calculators. It sounds kind of nerdy, does it not?

Though I do have my regular wedding band to wear, I do wear my ring every single day, so I have noticed the difference. And while I was pretty calm at first, it was kind of upsetting afterwards. I miss my ring, the ring that Mike bought me. It saddens me that it is broken. What doom do I fear that this portends? Well, I don’t know, but we do have a lot going on this weekend with Mike’s graduation and people coming to town. It’s just general doom I fear, I suppose. (So what else is new?)

We saw The Swell Season last night in Raleigh, and it was great. Except for the girl in the row in front of us, who had apparently never been to a concert before. When we are in seats that are that close together, I feel like you need to be respectful of the people around you and not flail about or trail your cape behind you. (Probably it bothered me more than it should have. I just felt like she was pretty disrespectful of other concertgoers with her constant swaying and singing along to “Falling Slowly.” You know what, honey? We all love the song, too. But, to borrow a line from myself, we didn’t pay good money to hear you sing it. I am not opposed to singing along at concerts in general, but this wasn’t really that kind of concert. If it had actually been at The Cat’s Cradle, her behavior would have been a lot more appropriate. Anyway, I will stop talking about this now.)

I just read that paragraph to Mike, who pointed out that I didn’t talk about the concert at all. That’s partly because I feel like complaining and partly because I don’t really know what to say - it was awesome, and I liked Marketa’s new song that she played a whole lot. I thought I was decently familiar with The Frames, but I really liked some of the things they played last night that I hadn’t heard before, and I will probably be checking that out more. The setup was really cool and the performance was great. You should go and see it if you get a chance.

(ETA: One of my favorite things was that Glen said that on this trip to America, they have discovered Freaks & Geeks and have been reliving their childhoods. How much do I love them for that? So much!)

There are some friends at our church who are probably going to move back to Virginia over the next few months. You know how I am, how it’s my thing to hate on people who are moving away from me because I feel abandoned. I have been much nicer to Melissa since she said she was going to be staying here (she says for a year, but I think probably forever). But lately I have been wondering if I am maybe being a little bit too mean to them. We are joking when we talk about slashing their tires when they are going to go on interviews, but if he actually checked his tires before driving off, have we gone too far? I feel like our relationship got off on a bad note somewhere, where there was too much sarcasm or something, and I don’t know how to rectify it, because now we are in this bad pattern.

We’re having all the big bad testing next week at school (sigh) and the library has been closed to students while we get ready for some of that. But some books have come in that students had holds on, so I have been hand-delivering as much as possible. I do this ostensibly because it’s nice, but I really do it because I like to see their faces light up when I hand their books to them. One girl almost hugged me when I gave her the third in the infamous vampire romance novels. She said, “Ohhhhhhhh! You are the best!” and hugged the book instead.

Today we will be cooking and preparing for the party tomorrow. I can’t believe that this weekend is finally here!

Mike would like for me to talk to you about something that’s been on his mind the past couple of weeks. That something is McDonald’s new chicken sandwich. Somehow or another, I obtained a coupon for one of their new Southern style chicken sandwiches and one of their new Southern style chicken biscuits. I think it came in my Amazon.com box, the one that had that Madeleine L’Engle book I never told you about (it was good). Though it could have been from school. Teachers get a lot of coupons. Mike, as he does, took the coupon and had the chicken sandwich. The chicken sandwich that wants to be a Chick-Fil-A sandwich, but apparently sadly fails.

I am sparing you the part of the story where he said, “I had one of McDonald’s new chicken biscuits today,” instead of, “I had one of McDonald’s new chicken sandwiches today,” and then he and I spent about ten minutes of miscommunication because I couldn’t figure out why he was talking about the bun. No wonder it was bad! They weren’t even using a real biscuit! But no. That part of the story would take too long to explain.

So, anyway, the Southern Style Chicken Sandwich really wants to be a Chick-Fil-A sandwich, and I have not had it myself, but Mike said it was fine. The chicken, he said, is not good, and is the thing you must get right in order to do the Chick-Fil-A sandwich. This might be McDonald’s best chicken sandwich, but it pales in comparison to the Real Thing, which is, of course, the Blessed Chick-Fil-A sandwich that we in this house know and love.

But that is not what really bothered Mike about the experience. What bothered him was the billboard that he saw later that day advertising the Southern Style Chicken Sandwich. The billboard that said something about how you could get this sandwich every day of the week, even Sundays. And to that, we say, “Booo!” I mean, yes, there have been times that we wanted to have delicious Chick-Fil-A sandwiches on Sunday. But not enough to go to McDonald’s. Especially if that is how they are positioning themselves.

After we had this discussion, Mike, in a move I found hilarious, went and used the coupon to actually get the Southern Style Chicken Biscuit, which, again, he said, was just not as good as the real thing. I would not have gone for the biscuit, I don’t think, if I was not hugely impressed by the sandwich. I just don’t like free food as much as he does. So, the question is, people: Do you want to be the kind of person who will eat a chicken sandwich just because it’s available on Sundays, or do you want to wait for the real thing? Choose wisely. Your soul may be at stake.

In looking up the Southern Style Chicken Sandwich, I came across the following information: On Thursday, you will be able to try the sandwich for yourself for free. Never say I didn’t do anything for you.

ETA: I forgot to say . . . the thing I find most bizarre is that McDonald’s is aping CFA now. You would think they would have tried this, oh, FIFTEEN YEARS AGO. What the heck?!

By now, I suppose it’s okay to say that I know a thing or two about marriage. I can at least say I know a thing or two about being married to Mike. Like many people, I was woefully underprepared for marriage, and I look back at the blur of those first few years and see how much we still needed to figure out. And we still need to figure things out, of course, but, in many ways, our life together has slipped into a comfortable rhythm. I tend to resist the terminology of “other half” or “two halves of a whole” because I think that both Mike and I are complete individuals. It’s more that . . . together, we make up something greater than we would be by ourselves. We have individual opinions and interests, and yet our lives are also inextricably entwined. It’s the difference between asking for permission to do something and running things past the person who will be most affected by my actions and decisions, I suppose. A small difference, but a significant one.

When we got married, I did not know how I would come to depend on him, how well I would learn to read his facial expressions and moods. And I did not know how personal his successes would be for me. Sure, I teased him when he made 101 on an exam after freaking out about it, I gave him a hard time about making A pluses, but I knew a little bit about what it meant to him. I was and still am incredibly proud of all of his hard work.

And now his graduation is upon us, and I am overwhelmed at how . . . overwhelmed I feel. He is graduating with a 4.0, and I think I am more excited about his accomplishments than I am about anything I have ever done. We have sacrificed a lot these four years, and Mike made sure that it was not wasted. He did not take this opportunity for granted. It took more courage than I knew at the time for him to walk away from his career and go back to school. I get nervous calling people I don’t know on the phone, but Mike walked away from a way of life he knew in order to better himself. It’s one of the things I most admire about him.

The way I feel about Mike’s graduation reminds me a little bit of the way my dad always responded to my own victories and successes. When my brother and I graduated as valedictorians of our respective high school classes, my dad was so proud and excited. He was the same when we both graduated from college and when I got my Master’s degree. I think I have an idea of how he felt. And I know that he was proud of Mike for going back to school. I know he would be proud of the awesome job that Mike has lined up. (He has a job, y’all! A real job with real benefits and a real paycheck! Teaching real children!) I know he wanted to be here for this.

I have a tiny little habit of making everything about myself. Perhaps you have noticed. And, in a way, I do feel that these are our accomplishments, the things that we achieved because we worked together and made them happen. But I also know that Mike deserves every single accolade that he has earned, by himself, in a way that was very separate from me. He did all the work. And he deserves to be celebrated.

Posting this week might be a little bit sparse (what with the graduating and the partying and all), so I want to say it now: Happy Graduation, Mike. We are all so proud of you.

I love to vote. I remember my mom taking us to the polls with her when we were little. Sometimes she even let us pull the levers or hang the chads or whatever. While I wouldn’t call myself a hugely patriotic person, the elections in Kenya have made me realize how proud I am to live in a country where the results of an election can be contested and debated without bloodshed. I have thought about that a lot since Christmas, and it’s kind of an amazing thing. The cynical part of me that I inherited from my dad isn’t always sure that my vote actually does count, but I sure do like casting it. I especially like the sticker that I get. And the respectful looks that the people give me because of my sticker.

Which is why I got up an hour early this morning to go and vote. Mike even got up with me, and we got to the polls around 6:45. There was no line. There was no hassle. I will miss our polling place. If our house ever sells. Perhaps I will still be voting here in 2020. In which case: I am kind of over you, polling place. Sure, you have nice friendly old people and no wait, but you are not exactly where I want to be.

That was a somewhat depressing turn to that last paragraph. Back to voting! And the sticker that makes all the tired feelings worth it! I am going to let you in on a secret: Early voting is so convenient, but I never do it because I really really want that sticker on election day.

Mike would like for me to tell you that he beat me at Trivial Pursuit. Which is fine. I enjoy a good friendly competition. My hat is off to him. He should definitely be proud. After all, while I was getting questions about Confederate generals (which I answered correctly) and retired NHL commissioners (which I did not), he was getting questions like the following:

What tune did Jim Weatherly originally pen as Midnight Plane to Houston?

Midnight. Plane. To. Houston. Yeah. He got a pie piece for that. How about this one?

What does the W mean to roving WLAN computer users?

W? Roving? What could that be? Certainly not wireless! Except, yes it is. Another pie piece for Mike.

What fraction of Africa’s rainforests can be found in the Democratic Republic of Congo?

Now, I know what you are going to say here. That could be a difficult question. But let me assure you, as we will discover in just a minute, the number questions are never really that difficult if you are thinking. Unless they are questions for Kari. And this was a question for Mike. And, indeed, the answer was . . . one-half. Another pie piece. This was one of his more difficult pie pieces.

What Democrat cringed in horror at his half-brother’s role in Pumpkinhead 2: Blood Wings?

I actually knew this one from my Quiz Bowl days. Mike guessed correctly, but I thought that everyone knew about Roger and his drug/alcohol problems. Obviously drugs and/or alcohol would lead to one making a movie called Pumpkinhead 2. Another piece of the pie for Mike.

Speaking of numbers and how they work in Mike’s favor, here is a nice little question:

How many winning seasons were fans of the New Orleans Saints able to enjoy, from 1967 to 1986?

Well, let’s see what we’ve got here. Really specific dates? Check. A team not historically known for winning? Check. That can only mean one thing! Zero! And, indeed, the answer was zero. Another piece of the pie for Mike. (Sorry, Scott, for bringing up such a painful subject.)

And, finally, my personal favorite question from this batch:

What U.S. State lost 30,500 hogs to 1999’s Hurricane Floyd?

Hey, Mike, remember when I was in college and there was a hurricane coming through North Carolina and we went to Kelly’s apartment for a hurricane party and then nothing happened to us and then Eastern North Carolina flooded and we felt awful about it later? You do? You mean to tell me you remember Hurricane Floyd hitting North Carolina? Dangit. I guess that’s six pieces of pie, now, isn’t it?

In our house, there is some debate about whether the final question should be selected before or after the card has been perused. Mike insisted that I choose beforehand. So I chose History, often a difficult category, and he got a question about a president of our country who was also, I kid you not, the founder of UVA. He won. But, you know, that’s cool. I’m not bitter.

If you need me, I’ll be on a midnight plane to Houston. (MIDNIGHT PLANE TO HOUSTON, YOU GUYS. HE GOT A PIE PIECE FOR THAT! HURRICANE FLOYD! I will have my revenge.)

Oh, look! Today’s paper!

Check it out! There’s a picture from the race!

Hey! Wait a second! That’s me! (In the black pants with the blue stripe.)

(I am totally passing that guy, in case you were wondering.)

I made the front page! Sure, I am small, and, yeah, maybe you need a magnifying glass to see me, but that is not the point. The point is that I will be happy to autograph your copy of the News and Record. For a nominal fee. (When was the last time you made the front page? That’s what I thought.)

I did not quite manage to run the whole race. There were all these hills, you see, and I ran all the hills, but after one of them, I thought, “If I don’t walk for just a minute, I may throw up.” So I did walk about one minute of my race. My friends finished about a minute before I did. But my time (32:58!!) was so much better than I thought it would be that I am only a little sad that I did not quite run the whole thing. Also, I was not last. Though our friends at the finish line did make sure to point out that a woman with a stroller beat us. Show-off.

Mike came and cheered me on, and there were lots of nice people hanging out on the course yelling encouraging things. My personal favorite part was on Tate Street, which is close to UNCG. At the corner of Tate and Spring Garden, there is a Methodist church where my parents met when my mom was attending UNCG. They were going to a Bible study there, and I believe the story goes that my dad held the door for my mom and that’s how they met. I told my friend Nancy that story yesterday, and about how my mom and/or dad would often tell that story whenever we would drive past that church when I was growing up. When we ran past the church this morning, I called out to Nancy, “Hey, did I ever tell you that’s where my parents met?” and she laughed and said, “You will have to tell me that story sometime.” Then, as we were running past Tate Street Coffee, some of their employees were out there cheering. That was a nice little boost to get up the hill just past New York Pizza.

I do not have any pictures, though I may have some later if my friends email them to me. Meanwhile, just imagine me being awesome. Because that’s basically how it went. Afterwards, we went to a diner with our friends and had the world’s largest biscuits. Now I am going to get ready to go to a baby shower. It’s so early and I feel like I have already had a whole day!