Monday, April 29, 2013

Things I am not proud of…

While shopping I pretend I don’t see the “no shopping carts in changing room” sign as I awkwardly ram my cart into the tiny walls. You can’t put a limit on the number of items I’m trying on. You’re not my real mom.

You know you have a fear of commitment when your itunes wishlist is officially on its 3rd page and you are just You Tubing the songs you might buy one day…when you’re emotionally ready.

I have a hard time clicking on the lid of my gas tank every time I fill up. I have no upper body strength.

Someone told me recently “Those who can’t do, teach.” That means if you can’t do something, you teach others how to do it. We’ve decided that is us and this blog. We obviously have no idea what we’re doing when it comes to dating so we’re teaching you guys how. How does that make you feel?

I heard a Hillary Duff song on the radio and knew every word

I decided recently I needed a whole new wardrobe.
And then I checked my debit account.
Not happening.
But something amazing happened. I started doing my hair and makeup in the morning and I started looking really cute in the clothes I already had! I in fact did not need to blow ½ of this month’s pay check at Nordstrom rack, I just needed to shower.



Saturday, April 13, 2013

(Unwelcome) Proposal

So there I was last night.

On a date.

We had walked into the restaurant and I saw an old buddy from high school.

My date and I walked over to him and said hi. I gave him a big hug and we were chatting. Apparently his friends thought I was being a little too friendly with him because they started cat calling, “Hey we have your engagement ring when you’re ready!”

They kept pestering my buddy so he decided to play along and got down on one knee and asked me to marry him.

In front of my date.

 In the middle of the restaurant.

He is a pretty goofy kid so I tried to play it off and laughed and said sure and tried to pull him up so he would stop making a scene in front of my date.

His friends lost their mind.

They started shouting, “SHE SAID YES! SHE SAID YES!”

Cue the entire restaurant looking over at me holding my buddy’s hands (not my date’s hands, mind you) as he is coming up off his knee.

The restaurant starts clapping. I hear a table of girls get excited and whisper, “Oh my gosh! He just proposed!”

I am so embarrassed at this point that I just start laughing. Not a good laughing. Like a, “Oh my gosh this needs to stop” laugh. His unruly crowd of friends start yelling to the workers that we need a free meal because we just got engaged.

I look around and still, the entire restaurant is looking at us. MAKE THEM STOP!

My date was, thankfully, a good sport and was laughing himself. But this got unfunny really fast a long time ago. I try to reign in control again by just trying to catch up with my buddy and asking him what he was doing for school. You know-the classic, generic, impersonal questions.

And that’s when it happened.

His friends started chanting, “KISS HER! KISS HER! KISS HER!”

Now, mind you, these are not junior high boys. Some are much older than me. Just goes to show you age isn’t everything. My buddy is so wound up in the moment that there is a good chance he could kiss me. I start dodging around him trying to escape and I finally sprint away from him, the table of hecklers and my date and go hide at the front of the restaurant.

It was a really good hiding place. The entire restaurant could still see me.

My date moseyed on over as I tried to figure out a way for the floor to swallow me. It didn’t help that people in line were congratulating me. I just said, “Thank you” because let’s be honest, I deserved some congratulations for surviving the night.

No words,

Monday, April 8, 2013


For much of my life I have had a countless number of people confirm my dream of being an artist to be a "financially insecure" one.  " can do it, but you need another job on the side because you won't make any money."  

Cool.  So I need to do something I hate to pay the bills and do something I love on the side.  That is, hate your life 60% of the time and love your life 40% of the time, at best.  I wrote a blog about this in December and referenced Alan Watts, a British philosopher.  I just agree with him so much.  Why not do what you love now, and trust that the money will follow out of your passionate drive.

For me, it's painting.  When I paint, I feel alive.  I feel peaceful, exciting, zoned-in, focused, artistic, creative, masterful, amazed!  It's what I live for in my free time.  I've always done it off and on since I was little.

I get a little encouragement here and there, but mostly people brush off my passion as a hobby, a silly waste of time and money that has no future.  Although it is important to me, most people don't see it.

I took a couple painting classes  at my community college a few years ago and at the University I would schedule one day a month where all I did was paint.

Now that I am on my own and working and living through my heartbeat, I paint quite often and the more I paint the more I want to paint.  In fact, as of January I designated an entire room of my apartment into "Arts and Crafts City."

Over the last month or so I have slowly had more and more people offer to pay me for my paintings.  According to a 5th grade teacher I once had, that means you are a professional.  Family, friends and customers at my first job are coming out of the woodworks to compliment me on my artistic abilities and ask me to custom make a design for them!

One guy in particular blesses me more than he knows.  Every time he walks in my bar he brings up my artwork and how amazed he is.  He has ordered one painting for me and is ready to hit me with another challenge as soon as I get the time.  I know he doesn't realize he's doing it, but every praise and compliment he directs towards my art is like a boost to my soul.  Why? Because art is something rooted deep in my bones.  It's something I have always wanted to do and have always seen myself doing, but never pictured it being serious.  His encouragement to my artwork is like a cool ocean mist, refreshing my spirit.  I need this.

I want you to read this because I want you to think about what makes you feel that way.  What's your passion?

One of my best friends rides motorcycles with her husband every Sunday.  I've only been on a motorcycle once so I really don't know what it's all about, but this amazing woman sure does.  She absolutely refuses to work on Sundays because those motorcycle rides are her way of church.  It's how she feel close to God.  I asked her to explain further and she said she can't.  "It's the warmth of the sun shining on your back, the presence of the Holy Spirit riding with you, and the clarity of being outside.  I don't find that kind of worship inside a church building or at a department store.  It's on the back of that bike where I feel my soul come alive."

Another dear friend of my is extremely gifted in "framing."  What started as a small interest in her retirement years has turned into a full-blown business in her backyard.  Her husband at first was reluctant, but eventually gave in and bought her a warehouse full of framing supplies, which then lead to him building her an entire play-space of framing, cutting, matting, and whatever else she finds to do!  You know it's her passion when she can make it fun.

I went to go see her about framing a picture of mine.  It was a 12x12 print I had been given for Christmas.  I loved the print but I couldn't find a frame to fit it anywhere.  Knowing nothing and caring less about framing, i assumed I would pick between black, brown, and beige wood and she would frame it and I would give her $60.

How wrong I was.  I walked in and she was more alive than I had EVER seen her.  I show her my print and she immediately pulls cyan blue, velvet fuschia, and royal blue from her storage cabinets.  "Wow, I love the fuschia but I think it could be better!  What if we added an orange and burgundy backdrop with a gold inlet frame and crown molding on the edges?  Perhaps a violet or lavender would soften the print, or maybe..."  Wow, I was sucked in.  It was so much fun!  She taught me all about the framing lingo and initially refused my financial offering.  THAT is how I knew she was in it for the fun, not as much for the slavery of it.  She made my print twice as beautiful as I thought it already was originally and I go back to visit her every week with new paintings and prints to frame.  She makes me want to be more passionate about my own thing!

What an inspiring and creative way to worship!  Motorcycles may not be for me and painting may not be for you, but what is your thing?  Whatever it is, do it.

Thursday, April 4, 2013

Are you flirting with me or just being polite?

We Spinsters look for the teeniest, tiniest speck of something that could be a flirtation.

Someone on campus holds the door for you.
You get a smile from the guy driving in the lane next to you.
The bank teller asks how your day is going.

….and we automatically assume they are flirting with us.

Now this could be taken in many different ways. You could be offended that the super uncute guy sitting next to you moves his coat so that you can have a seat on the bus. Hello…can’t he see I’m not his type!??! Sometimes we think we’re super hot and untouchable.

But then there’s the fella who you see kind of consistently in the library and he always gives you a smile. We again, think we’re pretty hot and think, “Oh yeah…of course he smiles at me. I’m the best look’in girl in this building!”

Too bad that we never dig a little deeper and think, maybe the guy moved his coat to just be polite, and maybe the guy smile because he works at the front desk and is required, by his job, to smile at every customer.

Like when we went out for dinner the other night. Just us girls. There was a waiter (roughly our age…I don’t know…when you’re twenty/thirty something all ages blur). Our waiter friend would not leave us alone. Asked us how our meal was going. Double checked orders. Gave us enough water to fill a canal. Cleared plates. Brought extra plates. Asked if we wanted dessert. He probably had a crush on our friend J. But of course we never think that he’s probably wanting a phat tip and for us to wrap up our incredibly loud and laughing conversation so that he can seat the people who’d been waiting for ½ an hour.

All we’re saying is things need to be a little more obvious around here.

If you’re flirting with me put a thought bubble above your head and say, “I’m flirting with you.” If you’re not say, “I am being a polite gentleman.”…. How ‘bout that….they’re not extinct.

Handing out thought bubbles,
Gertrude and Charlotte