In which I hesitate

I wonder....

Maybe when God led the Hebrews wander-ways through the wilderness, He let them stop to rest at times. And maybe they started to get comfortable, thinking that this was it, the Promised Land, not just another place to camp. And then the next morning...or the next week...or the next month...whenever...when Moses finally called "Pack up your tents! We're moving out!", they moaned. They didn't realize that the full richness of Canaan lay further on, far more bounteous than their small oasis.

But maybe once they finally got there, they were afraid. Afraid that maybe this wasn't the real Promised Land, but just another campsite along the way. Afraid that maybe this was just another nest for the fiery flying serpents. Afraid to be disappointed. Maybe every morning they listened with bated breath for the call to keep moving, to journey on. Maybe some never did unpack all the way, never quite let themselves feel at home in the Promised Land.

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In which I share a string of possibly unconnected thoughts.

It's raining outside. Everything is misty, and the mountains are wrapped in heavy white clouds. It makes me homesick for this place: (Can you be homesick for a place that was never your home?) I think I'm long overdue for some Oregon beach-camping. Hopefully I can make it happen...next summer. In other news, yesterday was Norwegian Independence Day. Which doesn't mean much to me, except that I got to enjoy some good food and good company. I am officially in love with this: Oh, and this: That is all.

In which I pen a tribute to my ex-boyfriends

So, I promised a friend I would have something substantial up here by tonight. Another friend told me that I needed to post soon, because...MY READERSHIP! I didn't know I had a "readership" but if I do, I'd hate to disappoint them! So here goes. Lately, I've been getting a lot of questions about whether or not I'm dating anyone, or if I'm still dating "that one guy" (which has been used in reference to both the man I stopped dating about a month ago, and the other fellow I stopped dating over a year ago), or simply condolences that things didn't work out with some relationship or another. These questions and condolences are often coupled with the idea that I'll "find the right guy soon," or "I met my husband right after a break-up," or that "if it isn't right, it isn't right." And while I don't disagree with any of those statements, I also feel that these relationships and subsequent breakups,

In which I iterate a list of things that irk me

The phrase: "Attitude of Gratitude." I don't know why, but it makes me cringe. Every. Single. Time. The Washington Post Social Reader Facebook app. I refuse to download the app because I don't want the entire Facebook community to know that I'm reading about "Beyonce's Incredible, Unique, Miraculous Pregnancy." This means, however, that I get to see all the tantalizing headlines from articles my friends are reading, without being able to read them myself. It's...maddening. Spotify. For similar reasons. Too-long eyelash extensions. Girls, having baby tarantulas attached to your eyelids is not attractive. The dating scene. I would like to either be completely single and romance-less, or have a boyfriend who loves and adores me. None of this going on dates with boys who I don't actually like that much. None of these mini-crushes on menfolk who won't ever reciprocate. As Patrick Henry once said, give me true love or give me asexuality

In Which I Am Alive

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