Why’d you have to go and make things so complicated?

Posted on by Carla Jean Whitley

I think my sense of humor is broken.

At my brother’s demand I watched a DVD of this comedian, Tim Hawkins, who the rest of the fam went to see when he was in Jacksonville a few weeks ago. Chad had been performing this guy’s skits since I arrived in town yesterday afternoon, and I thought they’d probably be funnier when the comedian did them.

Wrong.

I laughed a couple times, sure, but mostly I kept a straight face and wondered when I could grab a book. This always happens to me! I can’t stand Jim Carrey, I don’t “get” Seinfeld, I thought Blue Collar Comedy Tour was okay.

But as long as Friends is in syndication… there will be laughter in my life, even while everyone else is busy wondering what’s wrong with me.

I don’t wanna wait for our lives to be over

Posted on by Carla Jean Whitley

I’m becoming Ross Geller in my old age!

Do you remember the episode of Friends when Ross bunks up with Chandler and Joey? At first it’s fun—playing cowboys and Indians in a fort must be the male equivalent to chocolate and, well, old episodes of Friends at a girly gathering. 😉

But the good times didn’t last. Ross had work to do, and his obsessive need for silence (and that annoying hand motion/facial expression combination) drove Chandler and Joey to playing foosball in Joey’s bedroom. Even then they couldn’t escape Ross’s reprimand.

In my fourth day of substitute teaching, I encountered rowdier classes and a more cavalier attitude toward schoolwork. And as they refused to write their papers, I found myself morphing into Ross, pairing pleas of “settle down!” with that obnoxious hand motion.

But as those classes were mostly boys who proclaimed “there is a God! I’m going to church on Sunday!” after discovering that I was their sub… I’m fairly confident that they forgave me.

Now, if only my seventh graders will be so lax…

I wanna talk about me

Posted on by Carla Jean Whitley

I wanna talk about me
I solve crossword puzzles in my spare time. I cheat at crosswords when I get tired or bored or just don’t know the answer. My favorite place to be is wrapped in a quilt. My cat is one of my best friends, but I like dogs, too. I wish coffee didn’t stain teeth and invite dehydration, ‘cause then I’d drink a steady flow. Whole milk is my favorite but I drink 2% because I’m afraid my metabolism will slow down someday. I’m kind of a hypochondriac. My inner monologue is constant and, I think, rather entertaining. I like to be told bedtime stories and to have my hand held. I sleep with a teddy bear. I’m a mix of Monica Geller, Kathleen Kelly and Sally Allbright… or at least I like to think so, because they’re my favorite fictional characters. I love cheesy musicals and sometimes pretend the leading man is singing about me. I can be slightly narcissistic. I like pink but prefer to surround myself with earth tones. I love orange, even though it reminds me of Auburn, Florida, Miami and Tennessee. I wish I were more spontaneous. I’m a daydreamer. I love road trips and long conversations with friends. I can have an adventure without leaving town. I don’t like the phone very much, but I can get past that for people who are important to me. I think I’m a catch. I don’t believe it’s a meal unless it includes meat, spinach or eggplant. I love Jesus but always fall short of my expectations. I read two or three books a week. I think daisies are the friendliest flower, but I love daffodils and tulips even more. A man who can sing makes my knees wobble, but a man who can write makes me melt. I love brown. Chocolate is always appropriate but flowers are better still. I love hugs. Sepia photographs are the best. I think I’m a princess but have never dated a man who agreed. My cat is a better judge of character than I am. I’m wee. Autumn makes me want to fall in love. Summer makes me want to flirt. I express my moods through my earrings. I think curly hair is the best, especially on men. Plaids, long sleeve, button down collared shirts make me want to snuggle. Just like every other woman, I feel fat at “that time of the month.” Unlike many women, I know I’m not. I think coffee shops and board games make great first (or second, or thirty-second) dates. I enjoy being single. I want to wake up with rain falling on a tin roof while I’m safe there in your arms. I love playing in the rain. Good songs are better with the windows down, especially when it’s cold. The beach is best at night. Honeysuckle is my favorite fragrance; it reminds me of my childhood. Fondue is overrated but I still like it. I think paper is romantic. I’m crazy, but I like me this way. I’m a drama queen, but it keeps life interesting. I’m a list maker. I wish I looked good in yellow. I keep myself awake at night thinking about what is, what has been and what will be. I love art galleries and I miss living within walking distance of several. I love rich fabrics–I should probably learn to sew. I spend money when I’m lonely. I’m not sure if I look good in hats, but I have several anyway. I have more winter wear than a Southerner probably should. I love leaves; maybe that’s why autumn is my favorite. My favorite sound is the crunch of stomping in piles of fallen leaves. I like Pottery Barn, even though it’s big and corporate and looks like everyone else’s stuff. I think the best rooms aren’t purchased at Rooms to Go. I like interior design. (Once I thought about majoring in it.) I’m an excellent letter writer. I can talk for hours about football, coffee and my cat. I’ve been called eccentric; I took it as a compliment. Valentine’s Day doesn’t really bother me, though I’ve never had a date on it. I haven’t had a proper date since 1999. I don’t know what I want, but at least I know that much. I want to play guitar, but I’m too lazy to learn. My guitar is pretty, anyway. Heirlooms are better than fancy new things. I have a squeaky voice in which I talk to animals and babies. I might want a dog someday. I know I want babies someday… at least one, anyway. There’s nothing easier than loving a newborn. I’ve never been “in love.” Maybe someday. I put lots of things off to “someday.” I’m trying to stop. Perhaps my biggest faith challenge is perfectionism. I’m very type A. I’m more forgiving of others than of myself. I like pigtails, flannel and cowboy boots. I have romanticized ideas of the west. I love curly haired men. I have a certain voice I use when I want someone to think I’m cute. It’s kind of annoying. I have a huge smile (even though I’m self conscious about my teeth). I love the smell of coffee. When I was a little girl, I dreamed of marrying a man who drank it so I could smell it every morning. I had no idea how much I would love it myself. I read too much, get quiet in large groups and have recently learned to enjoy wearing socks.

It’s Friday night and I just got paid

Posted on by Carla Jean Whitley

After a long (short) day of working hard (hardly working) as a substitute teacher, I went grocery shopping on the way home. I skipped this activity last week because I really couldn’t afford to buy anything. I ate a lot of baked potatoes instead.

As the cashier rang up my items, totalling $30, I thought about how I probably couldn’t afford it… but I didn’t purchase anything wasteful, and I would just have to make ends meet somehow. I flashed back to last week, when I slipped my credit card through the machine in exchange for a new pair of glasses (on order).

I don’t know how, but I am confident God will provide.

After I unloaded my groceries, I paused to open my mail. I was most curious about a plain white envelope that bore no evidence of the sender but the postmark. I instantly knew who it was, but wondered what this person had to send.

$100.

That’s right. $100. For me.

I’m still shaking my head in surprise.

Somehow, it’s even more exciting to see how God meets our needs when it’s done at the genoristy of other people.

Thank you.

…though it’s clear to me that you obviously do not adore me

Posted on by Carla Jean Whitley

Side B: Songs for the Cautiously Hopeful

On Ice—Chris Thile
This song makes my little heart flutter. I think this is what it must sound like when I have a crush. “…didn’t remember she could be my first cue to run…” “…I had been taught love is a vice, took all these thoughts, I put them on ice.” It’s just… yeah. So dead on.

Mr. Sunshine—Lori McKenna
Sometimes the chorus says it all:
“You scare me more than the hard times
I know they’re coming around again
You scare me more than the gray skies
Good morning, Mr. Sunshine.”

Counting to 100—Matt Wertz
It’s no secret that I am a princess who wants to be pursued. That is, after all, why I’m such a sucker for The Bachelorette—I want to be pursued (and I want a hair stylist and make up artist to pretty me up as we go!). It’s therefore natural that I love the hide and seek analogy in this song.

Crush—Dave Matthews Band
A guy I once liked told me that this song was boring because the tempo never changes. I think I lost the tiniest bit of confidence in his musical taste that day (after all, I still remember the comment more than a year later!). He was wrong, you see. That one part near the song’s midpoint where everything goes wild is what makes the song. There are string instruments that dominate that section. You’re not focusing on woodwinds. Brass isn’t center stage. It’s strings. And string instruments mean love, apparently. Haven’t you ever been to a wedding with a string quartet?

Mistake of My Life—Caedmon’s Call
I knew that I am little miss “I will not ask a guy out”—that’s not news. (Heck, it still can take me half an hour to convince myself to call a male friend!) But as I review the songs I’ve selected, I realize I must be pretty hardcore! There are a lot of “I’m going to throw myself into chasing you, girl, and whatever the risk, it’s worth it” songs.

As an aside, this song reminds me of a theory a guy friend shared recently. He thinks girls like crazy romantic gestures when they happen to someone else.

I don’t know if that’s true… no one’s ever done anything like that for me. But y’know, if someone did, I would have to be more or less head over heels for the guy already. I think. I’m pretty skittish—something like this could really scare me off. So I guess there’s a degree to which said friend is right. Fortunately, in DWebb’s case, we know the theory doesn’t always apply.

Frontin’—Jamie Cullum
Oh my word. I love the flirtatiousness of this song. Heck, I love flirting… and I think I’m generally pretty good at saving it for guys I am truly interested in, which is the whole point anyway, right? “I don’t mean to be full of myself or rude, but you ain’t lookin’ at no other dude. That’s ‘cause you love me.”

Oh, and if you’d been standing in my backyard an hour ago, you would have laughed so hard as I danced across my living room while this played. I don’t know what my problem is, but jazz makes me wanna move! I should go back to that jazz club downtown…

All My Songs—Tara Leigh Cobble
Is this not the epitome of cautiously hopeful? Tara Leigh, honey, there’s a reason “nobody doesn’t like” you!

Love Soon—John Mayer
I’ll admit, it took me forever to get this song. (Why would you call it “love soon”? Oh! You’re soon going to call your relationship love? I get it!) Unlike the chick in the song, I’m not so good with secrets…. at least, not my own. 🙂 Oh… and this song basically has little to do with anything… it just sounds so optimistic!

Follow—Tara Leigh Cobble
Oh my, have I mentioned how I love Tara Leigh’s love songs? (You better be reading this entry! I am raving about your writing far too much for you to not accept the compliment.) Y’all need to read the lyrics (if you can find them)… it sounds like a prayer to me, a yearning. It reminds me of Ephesians 5, which is most of the reason I hope to someday have a chance at love and marriage. I want to experience that (imperfect) reflection of Christ’s love for His bride. I want to be sanctified in that unique way. I long to “love him when he’s wrong.”

It’s About Time—Jamie Cullum
I think this song is the perfect complement to “Love Song for No One.” Yeah, I think it’d be nice if “Mr. Right” came along sometime soonish (the next… four years or so?). But I recognize that I am the pickiest person in the world (except maybe my dear friend Aaron, you should check out his list!)… and I have to find a man that not only meets whatever it is I’m looking for, but can also tolerate my insane pickiness. 🙂 Man. And I tell people I’m a catch? I may just be full of it. 😉 And though I’m little miss “I don’t need anyone and I’m not in any hurry” (both of which are true statements, thank you), sometimes I do feel like it’s about time.

“Got the feeling this could take a pretty long while to find that smile…”

Men say I’m cute and funny and my teeth aren’t teeth but pearls

Posted on by Carla Jean Whitley

I spent this afternoon laying on my bedroom floor, semi-sick, compiling my latest mix tape and text messaging my friend Megan. I’m not 100% sure how her half of this scenario played out, as text messages have that pesky 160 character limit. But the way I envisioned it was with her lying on her living room couch, really sick, listening to a mix tape I recently sent her. (I know she was listening to the tape, and I know her tape player is in her living room… so I’m probably close to right. Megan, care to verify?) I reminded her that mix tapes are one of my love languages.

And though I created this particular tape for myself, that holds true. (After all, I love me! 🙂 )

You should know by now, if you know me at all, that I’m an obsessive list maker. I have lists of the CDs I own, the books I’ve read, children’s names I’ve liked, states I’ve visited, songs to be played at my wedding reception (should I have one of those)… and songs that capture my attitude toward dating. (Okay, I have many more lists than that, but making a list of all my lists is more obsessive than even I dare to be. 😉 ) I’ve been wanting to commit that final list to tape for a while now, though I didn’t intend to blog about it. But Dave’s list of his Valentine’s Day songs was intriguing (though I didn’t recognize most of the tunes), and so I present to you: Songs for My Fragile Heart.

Side A: Songs for the Recovering Bitter
(I know “recovering from bitterness” would have been more grammatically correct, but I wanted it to go with side b, which I named first. I figure if songwriters can get away with using “more easy” instead of “easier” simply to preserve the rhythm of their songs, I too should be afforded creative license.)

Love Song for No One—John Mayer
I think this is the theme song of most singles my age. I don’t care how “unhip” it is to adore songs that everyone loves. In this case, everyone is right.

Take Me for Longing—Alison Krauss + Union Station
The first verse both explains why I am personally opposed to the concept of a “back up” and reminds me of a rumor I heard back in high school. The story was that a boy I had a tremendous crush on considered asking me out, simply because he was tired of being single and he knew I’d say yes. At the time I lamented his decision not to use me as an ego boost. I was convinced that if he would just lend me his attention for a few weeks, I could make him fall in love with me. I was a naïve and wildly optimistic teenager, but in the years since I’ve gained perspective and a better sense of self worth. I will not be anyone’s second choice, thank you very much. I’d much prefer to be single for always.

Spit On A Stranger—Nickel Creek
Please remember who created this mix and what side A has been titled. 🙂 Besides, my favorite lines from this Pavement cover (“Honey I’m a prize and you’re a catch and we’re a perfect match”) fit perfectly with the attitude of my last comment.

Hello Mr. Heartache—Dixie Chicks
The day Mr. Heartache doesn’t show up around the three month mark of one of my relationships is the day I throw a tremendous party. You’ll all be invited.

Love is Different—Caedmon’s Call“I don’t know what I want, but at least I know that much.”

This sentiment has been rattling around in my head all week following this season’s particularly strange finale of The Bachelorette. (I’m becoming somewhat comfortable admitting that I watched this particular bit of ridiculous television all season.)

Jen Schefft received two proposals this finale, and she rejected the second of them on live television. I won’t get into the ins and outs of what went down, but I will say this: I could kind of relate to the girl and that scares me. There was no obvious reason for her to turn down these guys, besides their meeting on a television show. Both guys seemed to expect acceptance to their proposals. Both were shut down.

I am afraid of becoming that girl. (Well, not with reality TV proposals.) I know I’m a picky picky princess. (I think it’s funny!) But am I going to scare off every guy who attempts to gain my affections? My friend Luke theorizes that the “right” guy won’t be deterred by the road blocks I create. I kind of hope he’s right. (I mean, a guy can’t be “the one” if he scares easy, can he? ‘Cause I think of “the one” in terms of “the one I marry,” not as “that elusive singular person in the entire world I could fall in love with.”)

Young—Nickel Creek
I love love the quirky cheekiness of this song. “It’s not like I wanna get married. I never asked you to kiss me. I just odn’t want you to be sorry you didn’t try.” Besides… I am “young with no clue,” and though you know I “don’t need nobody,” I’m not “sure [I’m] that sure about [you.]”

Table for Two—Caedmon’s Call
Because I’m fairly sure Philip would drive to my house and beat my scrawny self if I left this off another mix tape—and rightfully so. Though it’s rarely singleness that keeps me up all night, this is still the song that convinced me to like Caedmon’s, simply because I can relate.

Gonna Make You Love Me More—Ryan Adams
He sing/screams “love is hell.” And well, I’ve never been in love. But it’s fun to say.

Strong Enough—Sheryl Crow
We’re back to that theory of Luke’s I mentioned earlier. If I made an application to date me, this would be the fifth question (after what do you live for? Is your height > 5’3? Weight > 95 pounds? Are you willing to dance?) “Are you strong enough to be my man?”

(Answer those correctly and you can move on to name and birth date.)

Winter’s Ending—Tara Leigh Cobble
If you know my attitude toward boys and you know this song, you need no explanation.

Next Year, Baby—Jamie Cullum
I’ll extol Mr. Cullum’s virtues at a later date. Suffice it to say this song is too, too appropriate. My only New Year’s resolutions for 2005 are:

1. Stop being so mean/bitter/defensive toward men. It’s not (always) their fault. Deal with the real issues.
2. It’s okay to call guy friends to chat. Really.

I have been prayerfully working toward these goals, not for the sake of dating but for the sake of my own health. I don’t care what causes bitterness—it is not okay to cling to it (as much as I sometimes would like to). It even affects my relationship with God. That’s unacceptable.

And y’know, God has really been working on my heart. I made a proclamation last week that shocked those listening: I want a boyfriend.

No, I don’t have anyone in particular in mind. I still don’t know any men in Birmingham (and I’m okay with that, though my next goal should probably be to make some guy friends—and no, not for the sake of dating).

I don’t say this in a discontent, idolizing sort of sense either. I don’t feel like I have to date someone now—I am just open to the possibility, I think. (“No… but there’s the dream of someone else.”)

So, maybe someday it will happen. Or maybe not. I simply don’t want to be an old maid with no one more than her cat for company because I get too busy scaring people away.

Oh, and as for the phone thing—I talked to two guys on the phone the other day! (Well, they both called me… but that’s irrelevant. The point is healthy friendships.)

…coming up next: Songs for the Cautiously Hopeful…

…domesticating you until you look just like me…

Posted on by Carla Jean Whitley

“I repent of parading my liberty
I repent of paying for what I get for free
The way I believe that I am living right
by trading sins for others that are easier to hide
I am wrong and of these things I repent.”
–Derek Webb

I was in the midst of a rather engaging conversation about my Friday night—a discussion of music and literature, two of my favorite vices—when my pastor dropped in with a brief statement.

“I love Patty Griffin,” he said. “I’m always spinning her albums.”

It was a passing comment that merited instant cool points in my book. Patty is one of my favorite musicians and many a friendship has been built or strengthened on her music. I made my way back to my seat with a smile on my face.

But as I listened to Steve’s teaching, a recurring thought distracted me from the class in which I sat. I have many music (and book) influenced friendships, but it seems there’s something wrong when a person’s choice of tunes affects how I perceive their social status.

I know I’m not alone in this, but that doesn’t absolve me of this curious guilt. People who read Paste are instantly labeled cooler (at least in my social circles) than those who read Rolling Stone or especially Entertainment Weekly. (I’ll be honest—Paste is clearly the better magazine, but I occasionally peek at and enjoy the others.) If you prefer Derek Webb to Caedmon’s Call, I’m prone to thinking we have something special in common. You’ll receive bonus points for generally thumbing your nose at the Christian music industry. If you listen to 93.7 WDJC (or your local Christian radio station), I probably have labeled you a “happy cheesy Christian.” If you know what local station plays Britney Spears, I instantly assume we have little in common.

There’s nothing wrong with friendships built on common interests. It’s only natural. But if I label people exclusively according to what they read and buy, I’m probably going to miss out on some wonderful friendships. I decided recently that the best friendships involved media recommendations, but just as quickly disproved that theory. Though I have several close friends who know just what book I need to read or album I need to hear, I have lots of others whose suggestions I take with a grain of salt. (Our tastes just aren’t always the same.)

It’s that same sense of self righteousness that shows up in my attitude toward faith and morality. As I already hinted, I’m likely to think I’m somehow a better (or at least hipper) Christian because I can’t stand CCM. Worse still, as Steve continued to preach I realized my motivation for talking about my faith is so often way off base.

On that Friday night, I was with a group of friends (and some virtual strangers) when someone made a joke about a loose woman. An internal battle ensued; I wanted to cry out, “I wouldn’t know about that because I don’t have sex because of Jesus!” I wanted to set myself apart somehow, but my attitude was very much “holier than thou” and not one of love, for these friends or for Christ.

Praise the Lord that those words didn’t escape my mouth! My own self-righteousness nauseates me, and I know it is just as filthy to God as anyone’s sexual misconduct. (The Bible compares it to menstrual rags. What a metaphor!)

The love of Christ, the redemption of all my sins (including this one!) has radically changed my life. But I still wrestle with this desire to perfect myself. Jesus ahs set me free from the eternal consequences of my wrongdoing (spiritual death, or separation from God) but I am quick to insist on continuing in this earthly battle. I am a perfectionist, and it does affect my relationships with myself, God and others. But I’ll never be good enough to compare to God. The deepest need of people who don’t know Jesus isn’t an outward morality—it’s forgiveness of their sins and a relationship with God. And though it’s been five years since I realized my own need, I am daily surprised by its depth. We don’t move past the gospel—I fall short of the glory of God every single day. If I forget that, I do so at my own peril.

“Woe to you, teachers of the law and Pharisees, you hypocrites! You clean the outside of the cup and dish, but inside they are full of greed and self-indulgence. Blind Pharisee! First clean the inside of the cup and the dish, and then the outside will also be clean.”
Matthew 23:25-26

Things I learned in North Carolina:

Posted on by Carla Jean Whitley

1. 600 thread count sheets make my 200 count sheets feel like cardboard. As soon as I have some cash to blow, I’m upgrading.

2. A dog that weighs 10 pounds more than me could probably beat me up, but it’s still nice when she offers her paw first thing in the morning.

3. I spend too much money on coffee. (No… no… I already knew that.)

4. There IS such a thing as a good mocha.

5. Purple goes nicely in a vineyard themed kitchen. 😉

6. It’s been far too long since I’ve seen snow. When I left Winston-Salem yesterday morning, my car was covered in a thin sheet of ice. I therefore thought it peculiar when I spotted cars caked in five inches of the stuff on the interstate, but didn’t wonder about it too much. It wasn’t until today, when people mentioned that NC saw some snow this weekend and inquired if I had experienced any, that I realized it wasn’t ice caked so high on the roof of that car. It was five inches of snow.

No more pencils, no more books

Posted on by Carla Jean Whitley

Ever wondered what it takes to become a substitute teacher? Yeah, I hadn’t either–that is, until I realized the low balance of my checking account. Suddelnly I became really curious about what sounds like an almost-ideal part time job.

I bet you didn’t know how time- and money-intensive the process is, either. I mean, it makes sense. You don’t want just anyone to have eight hours of (paid!) access to your children. But dang, you’ve really got to want it to jump through these hoops! Hopefully by tomorrow I’ll be done with all but the training, and by Friday I’ll be certified to substitute teach in my little county in Alabama.

Sub teacher checklist

You will need:
1. Completed application (check)
2. Recommendation form, to be signed by school principal (this is on my list for tomorrow)
3. Copy of driver’s license (check)
4. Copy of social security card (check)
5. Proof of education (check–they photocopied my high school, bachelor’s and master’s degrees)
6. $20 money order for substitute teacher’s license (also on tomorrow’s to do list)
7. $49 money order for fingerprinting and processing fee (again, tomorrow)
8. Results of a tuberculin skin test (I paid someone $15 to poke me with a needle. I get the results tomorrow.)
9. Form I-9, employment eligibility (check)
10. Tax forms, federal and state (check… I got my daddy to help me. I didn’t want to claim anything incorrectly.)
11. New hire form (check)
12. Workshop attendance (it’s my understanding that these are the last Friday of each month… which is why I’m in such a dang hurry. 🙂 )

I like my sugar with coffee and cream

Posted on by Carla Jean Whitley

When I arrived at O’Henry’s tonight[1], I expected to grab my usual gingerbread latte and sit anonymous at a table near the fireplace surround. I had work to do, articles to write, and the cozy coffee shop provides the perfect refuge from the distractions of home.

My actual experience wasn’t so different from my expectations, with one exception: I wasn’t so anonymous.

When I approached the counter, I was greeted with a smile of recognition from the middle aged man behind the counter. He commented that I looked different than usual with my hair pulled back, and I tried to conceal my surprise: have I really frequented this shop enough to be a familiar face?

It seems so. Though I must have made half a dozen stops by here since winter began, I was shocked when my counter conversation moved on to my recent departure from school.

In a city–even a state!–where I so often feel like a loner, it was a small blessing to be known, even slightly, in my favorite coffee shop.

[1] This wasn’t actually written tonight, but a while ago. I do that sometimes. Deal.