A lot of guys I know, I’d say most, and usually while they’re not with a girl, have taken the time to think about what they want in a girl. There are qualities of character that some girls have, and others do not. Some qualities are more important than others, but usually there are some that cannot be missing from someone that you intend to spend your life with. Sometimes, in coming up with these qualities, guys say, “It’s okay if she’s not this, so long as she’s this, after all, nobody’s perfect.” For those who believe God takes an active role in our finding romantic love, they pray asking Him to lead them to a girl with these qualities. I had thought this through before too. I didn’t have a clue.

When the guys I know have fallen in love, they say they’ve found the one, the one they were looking for, the one with the qualities they had prayed for. In the past, I could have listed qualities all day, I could have asked God for what I thought was the perfect woman, down to the last detail, allowing no room for shortcomings. The truth is, before I met her, I couldn’t have asked for all that she is. The one I was looking for, the one I thought was perfect, was less than her. She came into my life and turned it upside down, and I can barely recognize it at times.

I dream of her every night now, but before I met her, I couldn’t have ever dreamt of such a woman existing, let alone caring for me. All I can do is love her with all my heart, and it pales in comparison with her. I pray that God will make me more, that I might have more to give her.

Written on 5/16 at around 5 p.m.

Reading blogs is a funny way to understand someone’s life. I just called Dan on the phone, wondered if he was a bit down the way he was talking. I haven’t been reading blogs for a few days, so I didn’t know what a number of you all may. I’ve been busy, too busy to write, too busy to read? Obviously I need to change some priorities. Now I've got a bit of a clue. I’m sorry Dan. I’m really, really sorry Diana.

Why does this stuff happen, does it really make any of us stronger? Is it beneficial that we become calloused, that we put up walls, that the flavor is pulled from tender words? Why does one feel love, and it remains unrequited? Is there a higher and nobler reason for the pain? Are we doing something wrong in opening our hearts so? Tell me if you know.

Breathing deeply the fragrance of ammonia and bleach, I need a break to collect and put down my thoughts. Cleaning is a funny ritual for me. I accept unusual amounts of hideous debris to collect on me as I scrub and wipe the place I live. I feel as though I can take it, as though I’m required to take the dirt upon myself before it can truly be gone. Credit some misguided messiah complex or whatever for that, but I prefer scrubbing by hand, inspecting each surface close up to ensure the job is done.

I take an inordinately long amount of time to do dishes by hand, too. I continue wiping away long after they’re clean enough. I suppose it’s in part due to my upbringing, which I remind everyone of when I receive looks for 30 second (minimum to remove bacteria) hand washings, or even when I surprise myself with borderline obsessive-compulsive cleaning tendencies. Nearly every woman in my extended family has been a nurse it seems. My sister is in medical school. Then I’ll eat stuff off the floor, and some people say I’m a stable personality type. They’re close. I have stable personality types. The ends of the spectrum, I’m curious, let me have several types of lives at once.

I’ll do yoga, run, take up swimming, then I’ll light up a cigarette. I enjoy the outdoors, backpacking, but I want to live near or in a metroplex. Quiet and contemplative, then streaking around the neighborhood with only a beer. I wonder if I have to give up parts of my person and become completely one way or the other. Anyway, all this to say, you should see the bathroom, it’s getting a facelift.

If you haven’t read Donne, do.

“It were but madness now t’impart
The skill of specular stone
When he which can have learned the art
To cut it, can find none.”
The Undertaking, John Donne

First, I had a post written about friends, best friends, and family, but I lost it, credit my use of Blogger here. Anyway, I’m in a superb mood right now, I love evening phone calls, and I love free minutes after 9. To the group, I’ve got the tickets, and I’m sorry, they’re in the covered seating, but they’re not first section. I’m still excited about the concert though, hope you all are too.

So, I’m in a good mood, but being tired and catching up on blogs, I’m faced once again with one of my personal dilemmas. My problem is that I can’t stand “happy Christians”. I don’t know what’s wrong with me, I mean, in principle I agree with them. I believe God did create the world, Jesus did die for my sins, He does love me, He does cause all things to work together for my good. Somehow, at times, that’s just not what I want to hear, especially from people who know so little about me.

When I feel comfortable admitting to someone that I’m struggling with some decisions in life, nothing makes me want to kill a man like somebody responding to me by singing Trust And Obey. When I’m worried about a job, a relationship, a hurting friend, a lack of direction, whatever, I’m not interested in your third grade Sunday School lesson, complete with Flannel-graph and coloring pages.

I’m not sure if I’m way off target here either, maybe I just need to calm down. Here’s some verses that resonate with me when I feel this way:

When I was a child, I used to speak like a child, think like a child, reason like a child; when I became a man, I did away with childish things.
I Corinthians 13:11

He who blesses his friend with a loud voice early in the morning, It will be reckoned a curse to him. Proverbs 27:14

Like one who takes off a garment on a cold day, or like vinegar on soda, is he who sings songs to a troubled heart.
Proverbs 25:20

So I’m unsure right now as to how to feel. I have an aversion to what I believe to be ignorant smarminess, but if someone is blessed and built up by it, who am I to condemn it? Maybe I’m jealous because I so rarely feel emotionally close to God. Maybe some people need to open their eyes and face reality. God is big enough to handle the shit that happens down here, we don’t have to pretend the sun is shining when it’s pouring outside.

Written on 4/16 at around 9 p.m.

So, I’m at Starbucks now, feeling like I’m where I belong again. It’s good recognizing your own life. As good as it is to be ecstatic about newfound love, it’s nice to remember where you’ve come from, and not feel depressed about it. I like my life just fine, I actually am okay alone. I remember writing down, and being fairly honest with myself in saying I am relatively well equipped to live a life alone. I’m sitting here smoking a cigar (albeit a cheap one), drinking a coffee, and writing on my laptop with no one beside me. I’m fine with that.

Here’s an idea, why don’t I live as I know I should? In particular, the thought that come to mind right now is that with this girl who called me, though I’m somewhat interested, I should do as others do, and seek out other female company. Don't let yourself become too attached, don't pursue too much. This is not a novel concept, it’s just new to me.

Interesting, I hear more groups of students, attractive girls and trendy guys. They sit and talk of relationships and new upstart bands. They pat each others back for "clever" uses of obscenity and rather poor uses of analogy. At least they know what an analogy is.

Will I do it again? Who knows. If I fall for a girl like her, truly close to my equal in books read, philosophy expanded and expounded, will I have to accept her strong willed disregard for my feelings at times?

So quickly, despite the lovely weather and heady excitement of writing, I long to be with people again, to develop friendships, to listen to someone’s stories and watch their eyes dance at the exciting parts. I want to hear Gerald from Andrew’s house tell another story, as loudly and colorfully as he can. I want to hear somebody’s heartfelt sadness and depression, and tell them that at least they have our friendship. I should be comfortable alone, but I’m not. I asked for people to call me, but they haven’t.

-It wasn't supposed to make sense, I was in the very middle of confusion.

Have you ever enjoyed re-heated food so much that you wonder why you tried eating it after only cooking it once? Lasagna is one of these mysteries. Through many experiments, and by many third party accounts, I’ve come to the conclusion that lasagna continues tasting better every time you re-heat it. This is not my theory, it was told to me by a friend, but I can’t disagree. The burger I just re-heated for some reason tastes heavenly, easily an order of magnitude better than it was fresh. I think reheating it caused the cheese to become one with the burger and bun. Warm melted cheese definitely approaches the all time orgasmic food list, which I have yet to compile.

I continually return to Ecclesiastes, it seems the most relevant book in the world when you’re feeling uncertain, which for me, to varying degrees, has been my life since about age 12. There is indeed a time for all things, and I’d argue that timing is one of the most misunderstood things about life. It’s funny how projects always get finished up on the day they’re due, it’s funny that when it rains, it pours. The telemarketer calls at dinner, and you meet a new friend because your alarm clock didn’t go off.

This seemingly incomprehensible set of causes and effects points to one of two things. Chaos theory, in all of its mind numbing complexity, or an all powerful God with a sense of humor. The sweet is never quite as sweet without the sour, and joy contrasts so well with sorrow. So even when things suck, I think I can confidently say, God’s not through yet, and I believe I’ll be able to laugh about a great many things somewhere down the road.

I don’t pretend to have been through great adversity, and I’ve never been starving or homeless. How do you develop a life philosophy having never been destitute or persecuted, knowing you may very likely never be, but with the knowledge that many are? Again, there is a time for everything, weeping and rejoicing too, and I can’t walk around with a sad look on my face all the time because people are suffering. To do that would be to reject all of the wonderful things God has given to me. Perspective is so hard, in so many areas of life.

So tonight it’s Linux and me. Cheshire cheese and white merlot. Tool’s Lateralus is on the stereo, Buddy is around my neck. It’s not that bad an evening, to be honest, in fact, one of the better evenings I’ve ever spent alone. I’ll more than likely end up smoking a pipe and calling some friends in a western time zone later on, just like I often do. Day one without cigarettes actually feels a lot better than I thought it would.

Funny day, focus returns. My life begins to reshape itself into what I always knew it was, but got sidetracked. A dose of reality brings about clarity of thought and mind, reminds me who I am.

Amongst other things, a good friend of mine is having his life turned upside down in the worst way possible, so he had to leave school to deal with it. I’ve been told a couple of my other close friends may be leaving too, eloping, but such rumors are many where I come from. The crazy stuff that used to just be in the back of your mind, stuff out of books or tabloids or Springer-esque shows, yeah, my friends are living it, or so it seems.

I came to school thinking I was naïve and had no clue about the real world. The funny thing is, I thought it was in regard to alcohol, sex, drugs, things that my parents cringe at when I mention them. It’s just not so. I know most of what these things are all about, I know friends who are deep into it (not a pun with sex, though I like it.) What I’m naïve about is love, hate, prejudice, and depression. I don’t understand any of those things, and I’m not trying too hard to learn. Let me have my fantasy world where people all get along.

I’m not talking about some fantasy world that I sit and close my eyes to live in, I’m talking about everyday, you and me. With the people I meet, I’m going to pretend these things don’t exist. I want to accept you as you are, let you know you’re valuable. I might not even have met you, but I know you’re precious in so many ways. If you feel devalued, I’ve tasted some of that too, but it’s not the mountain it seems. Let’s talk.

In my fantasy, all my friends get along with each other. Nobody intentionally hurts anyone else, and forgiveness is just an apology away. I’m living in a dream world, don’t feel like you have to point that out. The world is full of hurt and sin, I know it. I just choose not to acknowledge it. Germs exist too, but I’ll eat off your floor. Life can be something wonderful, we’re not the victims we think we are.

So I’m going to Starbucks now, because it’s one of my happy places. So many memories, it’s almost paralyzing, but it’s so wonderful. Please give me a call, I’m in the mood to talk. My IM is CovertDni, you’ll find my cell number there, I’m not about to make that a permanent addition to my blog. You can dump on me if life sucks, or just say life is beautiful and hang up. If I don’t talk with you soon, try being happy tonight, regardless of the shit that you might be going through.