What would you do if I sang out of tune?

Posted on by Carla Jean Whitley

A Re rose to BTM’s challenge and composed an essay, lobbying for my continued friendship. Now, since we’ve been friends for nearly nine years and we still talk almost daily, I think she’s got a pretty solid case without submitting a composition. (I wouldn’t mind those monthly payments, though.)

Even so, her essay made me laugh out loud and reminded me of how much I appreciate her friendship. An excerpt:

I am so awesome that only I have the perfect out of tone singing voice to compliment CJ’s and make any one within earshot wish they were deaf while we belt it out loudly and off key. My awesomeness means that CJ profits from my shopaholic ways and gets an occasional box/bag/pile of clothes. I keep her entertained with the total “winners” I’ve dated over the last 9 years of our friendship (there was the stoner, theater major, “Old man”, “Cat”, “Grandpa”, the guy that offered to drive to Bama and buy her a stake, and others that shall remain fond/scary memories).

Find more on Just me thinking out loud…

Get back to where you once belonged

Posted on by Carla Jean Whitley

Reasons why you should not read in the morning before work, No. 1:

Because it is nearly impossible to leave for work when you know that you’re 30 pages away from finding Alaska (or concluding the search for her, at least), and you can’t read and drive because that’s not safe, and oh my GOSH how are you going to make it until lunchtime without finishing your book? And it’s right there, in your purse, waiting for you. And you know it. And your friends all already know what happens, but what happens isn’t necessarily the point so much as how much you adore this author is the point. And you can eat and read, and do your makeup and read, and sometimes even walk and read (although you didn’t think to try that on the way into the office this morning! Dang it! Four lost minutes of reading time!), but you certainly can’t read and write. And so, Alaska must wait.

But only for three hours and nine minutes.

Still I judge success by how I’m dressing

Posted on by Carla Jean Whitley

I’m really content right now. And it just occurred to me how significant that is.

See, lately I have felt even more topsy-turvy than usual. I started a new job a month ago, and I still don’t feel settled into it. (Of course, the whole building is a bit unstable right now – we’re moving into a new building in less than a month’s time!) I’m going through another bout of wishing all my friends lived closer, and in the process I’m forgetting to appreciate the friends who are local. Oh, and I miss my parents. A lot.

But I’m also learning, and in the process, maybe even growing a bit (I hope). Maybe that’s what 25 will be for me – a year of growing, and maybe learning how to deal with things like an adult.

I’m realizing a lot of ugly things about myself lately, chief among them being how self-centered I am. (Newsflash: The world does not revolve around me.) I’m also terribly undisciplined. I have this whole silver platter mentality. Life has always come relatively easily, and I think that’s just the way it should be.

Let’s be real. That’s just not how it is.

But you know, I feel really good about these realizations. I feel like I’m at one of those points where you see your own sinfulness, your own shortcomings … and you see how God is so much bigger.

I’m OK with that. 😉

It’s not hard to grow when you know that you just don’t know

Posted on by Carla Jean Whitley

Just when I thought we might be getting somewhere… just when I thought things might be taking a turn for the better… just when I had a little hope about the day-to-day… they burst my bubble and tell me it’s probably just not going to happen this year.

And yes, it’s August. That means five months until they anticipate being able to hire me.

I don’t think I’ll be here that long. At least, without a “real job,” I hope not.

But damn. I want to be.

I mistake my happiness for blessing

Posted on by Carla Jean Whitley

I’ve become pretty crap about actually talking about how I feel or what’s going on inside my mind. My standard response as of late has been, “Oh, I’ve just been working.” And y’know, that’s part true–work has consumed most of my waking hours and thoughts over the past six weeks. But that’s really another story.

Seriously though, the other night I was in a room of people who were discussing church and what they’d been thinking about to that end recently. And I had thoughts to share but I decided not to. Why? I’m not really sure why, except I guess I kind of thought, “Well, I just met them, maybe they don’t care what I think.” But that’s really stupid because they’re nice girls and generally if you’re talking about something, don’t you want to hear what other people have to say on the matter? (I guess it could also be because I was pretty tired. 🙂 )

I was thinking about all of this last night while I was driving home from the outlet mall in Bessemer. (Again, that’s another story. I’m not really sure why I went, since I didn’t buy anything. But drive time is good thinking time.) For some reason as I was walking to my car, I nearly burst into tears. I was reminiscing on things that happened several years ago and I just got emotional.

When I got to my car, I let the tears flow and I popped in a Caedmon’s mix I made years and years ago. (Well… actually, about the time I was thinking about that got me crying in the first place. Which, by the way, doesn’t make any sense. Do you ever cry without knowing why? I do, about one day a month, so I’m pretty comfortable with it. Sometimes you just need a good cry I guess!)

So there I was, flying down I-20/I-59 with tears alternately pouring down my cheeks and drying up, depending on which song was on. I listened to “Somewhere North” for the first time in AGES and it made me BAWL. I hate that song for that reason, it always makes me sad. By the time I got to “Thy Mercy” and “I Boast No More” I was grinning like a maniac…

Because the truth is, I try to be perfect, and really my motivation is because I want CJ to be perfect. It has very little to do with God. But He accepts me even in my self-righteousness and pride and stubborness. I think I can make it on my own, which is probably why I go through these phases where I refuse to talk about my emotions. But I can’t, because I pretty well suck on my own. Okay, I guess it depends on who you’re comparing me to; I’m not a “horrible person,” but stacked up next to Jesus I’m pretty crap. (Why do I use that word so much? It’s so ugly! But it fits here.)

I’m not sure why I’m vomiting all this in an online journal, because while I was doing all this thinking last night, I thought “maybe I should tell people what I’m thinking/feeling instead of saving it for a long blog post.” But I’m home alone this weekend and so here I go anyway. I think I’m going to try to stop doing this, though. Well. Not that I’ve been doing it that much lately anyway.

Okay, and I’m going to leave you with these lyrics, because this is where I am today. And I don’t care that it’s a country song sung by an American Idol contestant. I LOVE IT. So there.

Sometimes I feel like I need
To shake myself
To wake myself
I feel like I’m just sleepwalkin’
Through my life
It’s like I’m swimming through
An ocean of emotion
But still somehow slowly
Goin numb inside
I dont like who I’m becomin’
I know I’ve gotta do somethin’
Before my life passes right by

I want to cry like the rain
Cry like the rain
Shine like sun on a beautiful mornin’
Sing to the heavens like the church bells ringin’
Fight with the devil and go down swingin’
Fly like a bird,roll like a stone
Love like I aint afraid to be alone
Take everything that this world has to give
I want to live

Sometimes I wonder
Why I work so hard to guard my heart
Till I hardly feel anything at all
I’ve spent my whole life building up this ivory tower
And now that I’m in it, I keep wishing it would fall
So I could feel the ground beneath me
Really taste the air im breathin’
And know that I’m alive

Somethin deep inside
Keeps sayin
Life is like a vapor
Its gone in just a blink of an eye

I want to take every
Breath I can get
I want to live

Nobody’s happy while feeling alone

Posted on by Carla Jean Whitley

There are plenty of reasons why I claim Nickel Creek’s “Reasons Why” as my favorite song and one of the songs that tells the most about my life.

I realize it’s kind of a depressing way to describe yourself–read the lyrics for yourself if you don’t know what I mean. And I know I’m mostly a pretty cheerful, upbeat kind of girl. But I have probably more than my share of melancholy moments, and when they come I turn into little miss “woe is me.”

Sometimes I think that’s pretty normal for this stage of life. I’m in my early (almost mid!) twenties and I’m as far from being “settled” as I ever have been. Most days that doesn’t bother me (too much).

But then those moments of discontent come along. Yesterday was that kind of day… sometimes I get in a funk because there’s no one around, but then I’m in such a poopy mood that I don’t want to hang out with anyone. It’s pretty self-defeating and irrational.

My temporary employment is up in three weeks and I don’t know what’s in store next. (I know God’s in control, but that doesn’t mean I always live as though I believe it. So thanks for the reminder, but I haven’t forgotten. 😉 ) I have mixed feelings on the future. On the one hand, I have enjoyed working at the paper. If they offer me a full time job, I might have to take it.

On the other, I really don’t like this city. I know it took me a while to get used to living in Birmingham, too, but I never disliked Birmingham. I was just lonely. I don’t know if I could get used to living here again… maybe I could. But if I had to choose between employment here or there, the job would have to be pretty good to keep me here.

Of course, at this point that’s just wishful thinking… the employer’s aren’t exactly lining up outside my door. I guess I’ll just wait and see…

You can’t jump the track
We’re like cars on a cable and life’s like an hourglass glued to the table,
No one can find the rewind button girl
So just cradle your head in your hands
And breathe
–Anna Nalick

Wait, I’ll be fine, just give me a couple years to say my prayers

Posted on by Carla Jean Whitley

This afternoon I dropped Alisa off under the Southwest sign at the airport. I sent her into the terminal with a tight hug, then slid into my car and tried to drive away before I could get too sentimental.

It didn’t really work.

It’s not like we had particularly unusual adventures over these last six days. It’s just one of the trials of having far-flung best friends. It’s hard to release that bit of normalcy, to watch a person who loves the whole you slip back to the other side of the country. You may have a guarantee to see them again soon, but that doesn’t make up for lost months of playing with your cat and teasing friends on IM together.

I held on to that melancholy mood as I enjoyed front porch conversation with new friends tonight. Different as these scenarios are, they account for my nervousness about moving. My best memories of that city involve Ed food, sidewalk chalk, lattes and Friends, piles of leaves and adventures born of two young imaginations.

Those things aren’t tied to the city but to friendships. I’ve just started to feel comfortable in the place I’ve carved out here, and I hesitate to leave it for a place that only holds memories.

It’s hard for me to believe that I’m not losing the people I’ve met here and that the city’s promise isn’t tied to the friends who were once there. Honestly, I’m really excited about some aspects of moving back. The job I’m going for sounds great and I’ll be working with one friend and making others. There are churches there and my home church is only an hour away.

The memories and friendships I cherish won’t be there and can’t be recreated. But they’re not supposed to be.

It’s a bittersweet excitement that serves to confirm what I’ve long believed—success is often harder than failure.

“Failure’s hard, but success is far more dangerous. If you’re successful at the wrong thing, the mix of praise and money and opportunity can lock you in forever.” -Po Bronson

I have seen you at your worst and I still love you when you’re down

Posted on by Carla Jean Whitley

I started a new journal a few weeks ago. That used to be a pretty common occurence (as evidenced by the 14 journals scattered across my bedroom floor, all from the last five years), but this was my first new journal in almost two years.

When I inked my first words into these leather bound pages, I was sitting in a familiar coffee shop. I guess it’s been almost three years since I worked on a journal entry in that place. The memory is still dear, though… I remember sitting between two friends, writing while they studied… with bellies full of barbecue.

I began my newest journal at a table with two different friends, one old and one new. As I wrote, I wondered how much I’ve really changed in the elapsed time. Though I live in a different city in a different state, I was back in that coffee shop. I’m still friends with several of the people I was with that night years ago. I’m still clueless about what’s next in life.

But the more I thought, the more I realized I have changed in the (almost) three years since I graduated from college. I guess that’s part of why I ended up with these journals scattered across my room tonight. I’ve been flipping through their pages, recalling the over-excited girl I was and comparing her to the woman I’m becoming. (There is no excuse for three exclamation points in a sentence, ever.)

Some of the changes probably aren’t so great–I’m definitely more prone to cynicism now than then. But I’m also more prone to realism. I’m more likely to be honest about my struggles (and I’m more likely to punctuate a sentence correctly).

(My finances were better off when I was an undergrad, though. I thought it was supposed to be the opposite way around?)

I wish the changes were more obvious… I wish I was certain that I’ve lost that chip I carried on my shoulder after I graduated… but on days like today, I’m not quite convinced. When I’m discouraged, though, it’s comforting to look at the journals that hold my story, the friends who have remained by my side (or left and come back or appeared somewhere in the meantime) even when I’m at my worst.

And it’s comforting to know that God has a history of coming through for his people, even when they screwed up… and that he’s opened his promises to even me.

I came here tonight because when you realize you want to spend the rest of your life with somebody, you want the rest of the life to start as soon as possible.

Posted on by Carla Jean Whitley

Twenty reasons why I love When Harry Met Sally:

20. Harry: He’s too tall to talk to.
19. Harry: Empirically, you are attractive.
18. Harry: Yeah, nothing from her not even a smile. So I down shift into small talk, and I asked her where she went to school and she said. “Michigan State”, and this reminds me of Helen. All of a sudden I’m in the middle of this mess of an anxiety attack, my heart is beating like a wild man and I start sweating like a pig.
Sally: Helen went to Michigan State?
Harry: No she went to Northwestern, but they’re both big-ten schools.
17. Lady in the restaurant: I’ll have what she’s having.
16. Harry: (On finding a new apartment) What they can do to make it easier is to combine the obituaries with the real estate section. Say, then you’d have Mr. Klein died today leaving a wife, two children, and a spacious three bedroom apartment with a wood burning fireplace.
15. Harry: What does this song mean? For my whole life I don’t know what this song means. I mean, “Should old acquaintance be forgot”. Does that mean we should forget old acquaintances, or does it mean if we happen to forget them we should remember them, which is not possible because we already forgot them?
Sally: Well, maybe it just means that we should remember that we forgot them or something. Anyway, it’s about old friends.
14. Sally: I hate that kind of remark. It sounds like a compliment but really it’s an insult.
13. Harry: Waiter, there is too much pepper on my paprikash… but I would be proud to partake of your pecan pieeeeee.
12. Harry: [after he has run into his ex-wife] She looked weird didn’t she? She looked really weird.
Sally: I don’t know, I’ve never seen her before.
Harry: Trust me, she looked weird. Her legs looked heavy. Really, she must retaining water.
Sally: Harry.
Harry: Believe me, the woman saved everything.
11. (Harry is now walking the empty New Years street.) Harry (Voice over): This is much better, fresh air, I have the streets all to myself. Who needs to be at a big, crowded party pretending to have a good time? Plus this is the perfect time to catch up on my window shopping.
10. Harry: The fact that you’re not answering leads me to believe that (a) You’re not home, (b) You’re home but you don’t want to talk to me, or (c) You’re home, desperately want to talk to me, but you’re trapped under something heavy. If it’s either (a) or (c), please give me a call.
9. Nobody has ever quoted me back to me before.
8. Sally on karaoke: “It’s my voice, isn’t it? You hate my voice.”
7. Harry: You realize of course that we can never be friends.
Sally: Why not?
Harry: What I’m saying is… and this is not a come-on in any way, shape or form, is that men and women can’t be friends because the sex part always gets in the way.
Sally: That’s not true, I have a number of men friends and there’s is no sex involved.
Harry: No you don’t.
Sally: Yes I do.
Harry: No you don’t.
Sally: Yes I do.
Harry: You only think you do.
Sally: You’re saying I’m having sex with these men without my knowledge?
Harry: No, what I’m saying is they all want to have sex with you.
Sally: They do not.
Harry: Do too.
Sally: They do not.
Harry: Do too.
Sally: How do you know?
Harry: Because no man can be friends with a woman he finds attractive, he always wants to have sex with her.
Sally: So you’re saying that a man can be friends with a woman he finds unattractive.
Harry: Nuh, you pretty much wanna nail’em too.
Sally: What if they don’t want to have sex with you?
Harry: Doesn’t matter, because the sex thing is already out there so the friendship is ultimately doomed and that is the end of the story.
Sally: Well I guess we’re not going to be friends then.
Harry: Guess not.
Sally: That’s too bad. You were the only person I knew in New York.
6. Harry: Jess, Sally is a great orderer. Not only does she always pick the best thing in the menu but she orders it in a way that the chef didn’t even know how good it could be.
5. Sally: All this time I’ve been saying that he didn’t want to get married, but the truth is, he didn’t want to marry me. He didn’t love me.
Harry: If you could take him back right now, would you?
Sally: No, but why didn’t he want to marry me? What’s the matter with me?
Harry: Aw, nothing.
Sally: I’m difficult.
Harry: You’re challenging.
Sally: I’m too structured, I’m completely closed off.
Harry: But in a good way.
4. Sally: And I’m going to be 40!
Harry: When?
Sally: Someday.
3. Sally: The story of my life isn’t even going to get us out of Chicago I mean nothing’s happened to me yet. That’s why I’m going to New York.
Harry: So something can happen to you?
Sally: Yes.
Harry: Like what?
Sally: I can go into journalism school to become a reporter.
Harry: So you can write about things that happen to other people.
Sally: That’s one way to look at it.
2. Harry: There are two kinds of women. High maintenance and low maintenance.
Sally: And Ingrid Bergman is low maintenance?
Harry: Definitely.
Sally: Which one am I?
Harry: You’re the worst kind. You’re high maintenance but you think you’re low maintenance.
Sally: I don’t see that.
Harry: You don’t see that? Waiter, I’ll begin with a house salad, but I don’t want the regular dressing. I’ll have the Balsamic vinegar and oil, but on the side. And then the Salmon with the mustard sauce, but I want the mustard sauce, on the side. On the side is a very big thing for you.
Sally: Well I just want it the way I want it.
Harry: I know. High maintenance.
1. Harry: I’ve been doing a lot of thinking. And the thing is, I love you.
Sally: What?
Harry: I love you.
Sally: How do you expect me to respond to this?
Harry: How about you love me too?
Sally: How about “I’m leaving”!
Harry: Doesn’t what I said mean anything to you?
Sally: I’m sorry, Harry, I know it’s New Years Eve, I know you’re feeling lonely, but you just can’t show up here, tell me you love me and expect that to make everything alright. It doesn’t work this way.
Harry: Well, how does it work?
Sally: I don’t know, but not this way.
Harry: Well, how about this way? I love that you get cold when it’s seventy-one degrees out. I love that it takes you an hour and a half to order a sandwich. I love that you get a little crinkle above your nose when you’re looking at me like I’m nuts. I love that after I spend a day with you, I can still smell your perfume on my clothes, and I love that you are the last person I want to talk to before I go to sleep at night. And it’s not because I’m lonely, and it’s not because it’s New Years Eve. I came here tonight because when you realize you want to spend the rest of your life with somebody, you want the rest of the life to start as soon as possible.

I know you, I walked with you once upon a dream

Posted on by Carla Jean Whitley

I’m a sucker for The Bachelor and The Bachelorette—I’ll admit it. I don’t obsess over the shows, but I have been watching them since the initial season with Alex as The Bachelor. (He was a scum bucket, in case you missed it.) Years later, I find myself in front of the TV, eating up every minute of the two hour season premiere of The Bachelorette.

No, it’s not exactly something to brag about.

So I’ve been watching the series on and off (as my schedule has permitted) since the first season, but it wasn’t until tonight that I understood why. As I watched a bevy of attractive men flood a New York City apartment, it all clicked: I like the show because it’s like a fairy tale.

Okay, a modern day fairy tale, but a fairy tale just the same. Twenty five men—25 men!—attempt to sweep this woman off her feet. While they turn on the charm, she parades around the fancy apartments and the most exciting city on earth dressed like a model. (Does she have a make up person? I want a make up person!) Everything she does is like magic. Dates take place in Central Park, at fancy restaurants, in the most idyllic locales you can imagine.

I know it’s not real life. I know that, even if ABC would consider a conservative Christian girl prone to break outs, I would not really go on such a show. But for an hour or two each week, it’s fun to pretend…