The First 33 years

Let me start off by saying that I just realized that I am posting this on Christmas day (well, I knew that!), celebrating the birth of Jesus with a blog post that highlights the number of years he was alive on the Earth. What a kawinkydink!

I turned 33 the other day.

If you know me well (or even if you don’t), it would be hard to miss my freaking out about growing a year older; I don’t know what made me absolutely lose it, but I had this image of myself as Princess Jasmine at the end of Aladdin being drowned in the sand of the hour glass as time was rapidly running out.

Running out of time to do what?

I realized that I had been comparing myself to where other people are in their lives. Freaking out because my friends from college would not stop having kids and there is no way I would be able to catch up with them. At the rate I am going, I am going to be paying these kids to babysit my own when the time comes.

I don’t know when it happened, but I suddenly felt that maybe my life hadn’t amounted to much because I still didn’t have a husband and kids to show for it.

And that. Is bullshit.

I woke up Saturday morning and I didn’t feel any different. I was still pressed snooze 87 times before I crawled out bed and into the shower. I still turned on the radio and jammed out as I threw on jeans and a t-shirt and my old beat up Tom’s. I still frantically packed my car knowing I was supposed to be on the road to get home for the holidays.

I was still Lainie.

So yes, while I am not at a place I thought I would be, I am still me and I am still in a good place.

33 isn’t old.

Though I don’t have a husband and child, I have had a pretty kick-ass first 33 years and I have plenty to show for it:

• I have made countless cross- country road trips awesome (just ask my friends Olive and CJ!)
• I was Senior Vice-President of the Science and Environmental Club my senior year of high school…way before going green was cool.
• I ran a successful inner-city after-school program
• I ran a successful inner-city summer camp program
• My mom calls me a “travel monger.” She says “have ticket will travel” should be my motto because I will visit any city even if I don’t know anyone in it!
• Though I am a huge klutz, I walk effortlessly in stilettos.
• I can run for a city bus in four-inch heels with out falling!
• I have completed seven marathons and counting.
• When I found my self pregnant and scared ten years ago, I made a decision for life that I am sure my son and his adoptive family thank me for everyday.
• Ralph has style because of me and even though he is in a seminary, it must kill him to think of me when ever he receives a compliment on his look.
• I am a loyal friend and I only know this because I have countless people in my life that have my back if I ever need them.
• I am 20 pounds lighter than I was when I turned 32!
• Thirteen 9 and 10 year olds can effortlessly recite the days of the week in Spanish and know they are special because of time spent in circle time when I was their pre-school teacher.
• I have my own fan-page on Facebook
• Catholic teens in Terre Haute are more open to discipleship because as I found out this summer, I taught them that “Catholic” is a verb…without either of us realizing it.
• My 2-year old nephew and 6 and 14 year old brothers hold vigil by the front door and call every fifteen minutes when they know I am on my way home, just because they want to see me. I am so loved.
• I use the phrase “make it happen” like Tim Gunn uses “make it work” because I believe that I can and if it is in my sphere of influence or control, I prove myself right.
• I have been rocking a natural since before Macy Gray and her raspy voice made it socially acceptable.
• I let my freak flag fly so proudly that my brothers don’t mind being seen as different. In fact, they wear it as a badge of honor knowing what others deem “weird” will be awesome when the time come and they will be ahead of the curve.
• Two children in need have new shoes because I buy Tom’s. (Well, I have actually only bought one pair, but they have been on their last leg for quite a while and my sister Stevie bought me new ones this Christmas and is begging for me to burn the old ones.)

Out with the old and in with the new! Please take note of the buttons, they are  for both fashion and function as they are a super cute way of covering up holes. I also didn't realize that my shoes weren't gray anymore...

• Teen convicts don’t scare me as much as they should because I spent six years doing juvenile prison ministry.
• What most people would reject as fashion “don’ts” prove to be fashion forward because when I wear it, I just act like it looks good.
• I have started more parties than I can count.
• Because of my loud obnoxious laugh (that has since been tamed…mostly), Adam Sandler stopped a press conference to make fun of me and took time to meet me afterward. I have a picture to prove it and everything!
• When I was 20, I met Julie Andrews and took the opportunity to tell her how much she meant to me. I told her that I watched “The Sound of Music” almost everyday while doing my homework and that she inspired me to pursue musical theatre in college. Even though I am sure she’s heard it before, she thanked me so politely and it felt great to be thanked. I will never stop being grateful when receiving a compliment and even though I had been taught manners by my mom a long time ago, Julie Andrews reminded me of its importance.
• My family includes young men I used to serve when I worked in a group home a while back. It means so much that I can still check in with them and see how their lives have turned out. One of them just turned 21 and he won’t let me forget that I owe him a beer the next time I am DC.
• On my birthday, I ran into my high school boyfriend and he told me that I was the one that got away and he still loves me. I had to remind him that it has been a long time since we were 18 years old and I don’t (or care to) remember 18 year old me and he really should move on. I feel bad, but as someone that knows how to hold a torch for someone, it felt good to know that someone was holding a torch for me. The fact that he has been holding it for fifteen years makes it a bit awkward, but we don’t have to mention that…
• On my 22^nd birthday, I got the best news: I had been accepted into an AmeriCorps program called City Year! I spent 2002 serving high school students on the west side of Chicago and even though I was young and full of naïveté, I know I made a difference.  I learned so much about myself and others because I allowed myself to be uncomfortable (in a healthy way) for probably the first time in my life. That experience stretched me in so many ways and looking back, I would probably be a holier than thou dud today had I not been challenged then.
•  My sense of adventure has allowed me to grow. I have always had a desire to go off the beaten path and though it sometimes may result in twisted ankles, it always results in my learning how far I can push myself and of how much I am capable.
• I can’t help but serve others and make new friends. I always leave mission trips (domestic and international) with new friends that have made their way into my heart and am always blessed to know that they have improved my life more than I could have hoped to improve theirs.
• My life is lived as if I busted out of the box. Others find it impossible to pigeon hole me into a category as I can’t be described as any one thing. I mean come on; I am a black girl from the city that lives for country music! I have said it before that I am equal parts Ch-Cha DiGregorio and Patty Simcox. On any given day I can be Carrie, Charlotte, Samantha or Miranda and on a good day I am all four!
• My sign language skills, though they are limited come from four summers of working at a camp for adults with special needs almost nine years ago. Some of the relationships I made there have become the most important in my life. I was maid of honor in CJ’s wedding, a sponsor to Lisa when she was confirmed in the Catholic Church, I still check in with Kim, a high functioning camper, through letters. Seth is my son’s father and CJ drove like a mad woman from college to be by my side when I gave birth.
• I love myself. Though I struggle with this sometimes, it is true 95% of the time. This was a hard one feat that I was sure I would lose as self doubt was often in the lead showing its dominance through eating disorders and self mutilation, but in the end I was victorious. Before I moved to Terre Haute, I was at a funeral where I saw old friends from an incredibly hard time in my life and they could not believe how healthy I was and how much I had grown. It was the first time I saw how screwed up I was. Instead of seeing the tired look in their eyes as they prepared themselves for dealing with my crazy and attention seeking behaviors (me? Never!), I saw relief. Then joy. Though we were together for the first time in years because a sad occasion, I was glad to be there for them to see me as I am now. Not many people win a battle as fierce as mine or well as I did, but I made it happen. I am so blessed and so proud. And I love myself.

33.

That is how many years it has taken me to become me: super blessed and super awesome.

The first 33 years of my life though they have had many disappointments and heartaches, have not ceased to be amazing and I welcome the challenges that are to come.

I am glad for where my experiences have brought me and I can’t wait to see where I end up when I turn 34 whether I am married or not…I just may need to be reminded of that from time to time.

The Andy Series, part 7

12.20.2012

Trix told me that I shouldn’t unfriend Andy on Facebook.

She reasoned that if I happen to cross paths with him again (which is entirely possible), I would have to do the awkward re-friend. So I will just have to restrain myself from checking his page to see what he is up to and wondering why he hasn’t called.

Though I may never see him again, I am very glad to have met him and that we had that weekend.

Andy really changed things for me: I have to be beautiful to the man I end up with. I can’t shake the way Andy looked at me, I still feel the blood rush to my cheeks when I think about the way he looked at me.

I don’t know if he got anything out of the experience or even thinks of me.

Or if he has a blog where he’s written “The Lainie Series” where he berates himself for being  too chicken shit (or too stunned by my awesomeness) to call.

All I know is that I will be fine. Sister Felicia says that I am always fine, I just don’t know if I will ever be OK.

This is getting hard, but I am going to take time to really be at peace with my seat in life for the moment.

Eventually, everything will be OK. 

The Andy Series, part 6

12.18.2012, 1133p

Andy is an asshole.

I am well aware of how difficult a time this must be for him, though I am sure a text of acknowledgement of my phone call or even the fact I sent cookies couldn’t be out of the question.

Sassy was super supportive and let me unload my frustrations about everything and I realized that I am not really angry with him; I understand that life is hard, but I am disappointed in him because this is kind of shitty and not at all like the Andy I met three weeks ago.

I really want that Andy to call. 

The Andy Series, part 5

12.17.2012, 927p

I hadn’t received a phone call from Andy yet, so I checked the delivery confirmation the minute I got home and found out the package was undeliverable (no apartment number L) and now the cookies and the CD are on their way back to Terre Haute. Sad that he won’t get the cookies, but kind of glad he won’t be hearing One Direction from me anytime soon.

I called him (I know, that broke my rule—but who are we kidding, I am a rule breaker!) and there was no answer so I left a message telling him that he is missing out on my Christmas cookies and I hope that he is having a great Advent. I tried so hard not to ramble and I am sure that I did. At least I didn’t pull a Monica and say “I’m breezy!” at the end of the message.  I don’t know if he will call back, but he has until this time tomorrow not to be declared an asshole.

I will let you know what happens.

The Andy Series, part 4

12.14.2012

Yea, so this is awkward…

I was in the shower and One Direction’s “You Don’t Know You’re Beautiful” came on and I got excited (because, yes, I channel my inner teen far more than anyone should care to admit) and I thought about Andy and his possibly getting his package today.

I put that song on his CD to put a smile on his face because it always puts one on mine.

And then I heard the words.

Yea…I am pretty sure that I am not going to be getting a phone call anytime soon.

I am also trying so hard not to anticipate his reaction when he gets my package. I check the delivery confirmation every chance I get and still nothing. I just hope that it gets there soon enough so the cookies don’t get super hard.

The Andy Series, part 3

12.12.12

I baked him cookies and sent them with a CD I made.

Before you call me crazy, I told him that I would when we were at dinner the last night of the conference and I was simply following through.

The CD was extra, I just thought he would want some pick me up songs and encouragement.

I just hope he doesn’t think I am weird and a stalker.

The Andy Series, part 2

12.07.12

I decided to put Andy on hold for Advent (you know, waiting in the Lord and all) and not obsess over the fact that he hasn’t called me or acknowledged me in any way.

I bet you any amount of money he got home and came to his senses.

I knew it, I just knew this would happen!

Of course.

Of course I am not that magical to completely make him forget his crap and decide to make something happen with me.

I don’t know how I always manage to find myself in these situations.

Sulking won’t fix it, I just need to be at peace with all of this and move on from this experience.

There is a reason we crossed each other’s paths, I am not sure what it was, maybe I needed to know what it was like to have someone call me beautiful and maybe he needed someone to hold his jacket on Saturday night,

Who knows?

12.2.2012: The Andy Series, part 1

So, this is complicated.

I met a guy while I was at my work conference. Of course I did, right? I am always meeting guys and inevitably they don’t work out and I am left questioning God’s plan for my love life and crying about my bad luck…all over a boy that turned out to be a bullet dodged.

I am hoping that Andy will be different.

I met Andy on my second day in Orlando while I was doing karaoke and he seemed nice, but I figured that he was married. He had that married look about him (you know the one) that, and the fact that 99.9%of the men in my field are married. I just went on with my night and saw him at breakfast and our first session. He was sitting alone when I walked into my first session and I called him over in my Lainie way (proclaiming loudly that he should join us) and he had no choice but to plop down next to me.

He was in both sessions with me that day and he seemed cool, laughed at all of my cheese ball jokes and kept paying me compliments and he kept calling me “24” like that was my name. And he made it sound accusatory like I stole the number. I was confused by this, but whatever.

Throughout the day, I kept thinking he was awesome (and attractive) and we definitely had a connection, but this guy looked super married and he didn’t have a ring (I checked-single girls always check).

We had great day although there were times when he would look like something was getting him down, but more than that, it was like his mask would slip every so often and he would have to readjust.  All I could do was pray for him.

When we went to dinner as a group later that night we made conversation to and from the restaurant and that was when he told me about his recent divorce. Like a month ago recent.

See? I knew he had that married look about him!

Once again, I've mistaken my feeling an actual connection with my uncanny ability to build rapport with just about anyone combined with his being attractive. I have been told that I am just one of those people that others feel instantly comfortable with, as evidenced by the fact I now know the main details surrounding his divorce.

I had to keep reminding myself about this every time I felt we had an actual connection, especially when he exhibited relief at the fact I was in fact 32 and not 24. Which helped me understand the odd nickname, but confused me when he said “32 is much better for me. So much better that 24.”

 I just continued on with whatever story I was telling and tried not to feel awkward  (or blush) because of his comment that I am sure everyone heard. The subject was changed and someone asked how long I’ve been in Terre Haute and I replied “15 months.” They inquired about what it was that made me move here from the city and I gave my generic answer that God wanted me in Terre Haute and circumstances presented themselves that made me ready for something new,

Yea, they could tell there was more to the story, so we kept talking, and I am not sure how it came up, but Ralph came up (master diggers they are) and they asked how long he’s been in the seminary and I replied “15 months.”

 That moment of awkwardness was short-lived because the most awesome thing happened.

We saw him. The Dude!

I mean, it wasn’t really Jeff Bridges, but it might as well have been. This guy, without even trying, made me want to pay for his rug! Instead, I bought him a White Russian.

I ordered it, walked up to him and said “Excuse me, Mr. Lebowski. Here’s your White Russian,” smiled and walked away.

It was pretty awesome if I do say so myself.

He laughed, told me that had never happened to him before though plenty of people have commented on how much he looks like The Dude. He told me he would never forget it and how cool it was and then Andy took our picture.

Our night pretty much kept being awesome after that. I was just being me, not worried about how intimidating I seem to some guys or trying not to seem too much like one of the guys. I was just Lainie.

And Andy wasn’t going anywhere. He kept making comments about how awesome I was which I am used to…not in a conceited way, but in a way that I can keep up with boys on just about anything and it is pretty awesome. Most guys’ awe ends there and they deem me a “good friend” much to my chagrin. Even though I was really liking Andy, he was not in a place to start dating anyone and I just can’t keep putting myself in the position to get my heart broken.

I kept reminding myself of this and saying that we are just friends and once this conference is over I won’t have to talk to him anymore or see him…until he kept blatantly suggesting that I come to Ohio to see him and making comments about how perfect I was for him.  

That part was hard.

Here he was this incredibly attractive guy that wasn’t afraid of my Lainie-ness and if I am not mistaken, it endeared me to him.

He seemed like the perfect guy for me too, but the timing was off.

When we said goodnight, he stalled making small talk then stating how beautiful my eyes are and how he was getting lost in them (pretty sure I got butterflies). I felt the heat rush to my checks because I could not believe how forward he was being and how there was no way he was ready to have this conversation with anyone. Let alone me.

I tried to say goodnight and he insisted on walking me to my elevator stating the lobby was “unsafe.” (Yep, butterflies)

He ended up riding to my floor with me  and I didn’t know what to expect and we’d been drinking so I  was kind of nervous and all I knew was that I didn’t want anything to happen…maybe. All I did know for sure was that I have plenty of room in my heart for love and new friends, but I don’t think my heart could take it if I was a rebound. I’m better than that and so is he.

He was the right guy at the wrong time.

And if I have learned anything from all the books I have read on dating and relationships is that the right guy won’t come at the wrong time.

So I stepped out of the elevator and firmly said good night and said I would see him the next day.

As the elevator door closed, I wanted to tell him to drink water before he goes to bed (I know, it’s the big sister in me), so I texted it to him and went to bed.

I knew the next day would be different, he would be sober and he would have come to his senses.

No such luck.

It wasn’t until dinner time that I saw him again, and when he saw me, he had the weirdest look on his face. It was like he'd seen his first Trans Am, and I had no idea what brought it on, but whatever. 

We had dinner and he kept pushing food on me, I made a crack about him being an Italian grandma and he told me he was part Italian. Then I was all, “Why are you insisting I eat? Do you not think I am OK? Are you trying to take care of me?”

And he said “Kind of like you tried to take care of me with that text last night?” And he gave me the same look from earlier in the evening. This time, I took it in with a stomach full of butterflies.

We talked about how the day went, he asked me about lunch with Sister Felicia and I told him it was good to see her and that  she gave me homework. He already knew about Ralph so I told him she told me that I need to talk to him so that we both could get closure.

Over the course of time (you know, 24 hours), he learned my story just like I learned his (as much as he was ready to tell) and I shared with him theories shared by most (if not all) of our friends that he was running scared to the seminary because he didn’t want to deal with how much he loves me.  And how talking to him will allow both of to move forward and help him be a better priest if he is still being called to that life when the time comes.

Andy asked what would happen if Ralph decided that after we talked, he realized he wanted to be with me, would I go back to him? I did not hesitate when I said no. I explained that I am a very different person than I was 15 months ago and I have been shaped by the hurt and he would have to start from scratch.

“OK, good” is all he said with that same look in his eye.

That was probably the moment that I said “screw it” to being cautious and gave into the fact we were attracted to each other and let myself believe we had an actual connection.

We had a flow the rest of the night.

He was struggling with his jacket and I took it and put it in my tote without his asking, he took my tote and carried it around. We ordered milkshakes for dessert and swapped when we grew tired of our own. He stayed close to me and I stayed close to him. When ever I was too far away, he would make his way over to me and whisper in my ear “the Dude abides” and we would laugh.

He even demanded that I come to Ohio and told me that I am going to stay with him. I had to draw the line with that one, there is no telling what trouble I would get myself into staying in his apartment.

At one point in the evening we were at the bar ordering drinks and he turned to me with that look in his eye and said “You’re really beautiful, do you know that?” I didn’t know what to say to that. The last guy to call me beautiful was Ralph and he didn’t even mean for me to hear it.

“OK,” I said, “thank you?”

He just kept looking at me searching my face and said “You are. You know you’re beautiful, right?” And I just stood there with what I am sure was a combination of a blank stare and confusion.

I didn’t think I had ever been told I was beautiful before. I mean, I have been told I was beautiful before but it is usually accompanied by a “God made you in his image” sort of way.

Here was Andy, as bold as he could be, calling me beautiful as if it were a fact he was daring me to dispute.

I just enjoyed it, and that silly look on his face that was starting to make me a little bit breathless. It was then that I realized he was looking at me like I was beautiful (or a Trans Am) and he hadn’t looked at anyone else like that the whole conference.

I am still getting used to this whole feeling pretty thing, so I really don’t know what to say when a guy thinks so too. Please note: I have known for a long time about my awesomeness and waited for others to catch up, recognize and be amazed. This legit pretty feeling has only been around for a short time.

I realize now that no matter what, I am unable to be with a guy that doesn’t look at me like Andy does. Like I am so beautiful that he can’t believe how blessed he is just to be looking at me. No. The man that loves me has to look at me like that.

When we finally got around to saying goodbye, the first thing out of his mouth was that I had to talk to Ralph like he was the one who had given me the holy homework. And then we hesitated to say goodbye. We stammered. His hands were on my shoulders, mine were tugging on his jacket and zipping and unzipping it. Then we finally said goodbye and as he turned the corner I called after him “Don’t forget to drink water!” We laughed and he was gone.

I went to bed that night praying that Andy was OK to start whatever he was starting with me and that he wouldn’t get home and come to senses and realize that he wasn’t really ready for all of this or anything.

I fell asleep both worried and hopeful.

When I got up the next morning I rushed to the lobby because I wanted to see him again because his taxi was leaving close to the same as my shuttle and we got to say goodbye again and he insisted that he would be in touch. He was so adamant about it and he hugged me so tight and he got in his cab and I got on the bus.

I spent the whole trip home terrified that he would actually call and even more terrified that he wouldn’t!

I am now officially in wait and see mode.

Flipped

I think my liturgical moods are flipped.

Lent is the best part of my year and Advent is always the most challenging.

I have said this before, in the time we are to be focusing on the death of Christ, I have the least amount of challenges and life hits a stride that doesn't get broken for a while and if it does, something gets me back on track and all is well.

Until Advent rolls around.

I don't know what it is, but I have a hard time feeling that God is near and that the savior of the world will soon be here. Instead, I feel abandoned, bitter, and questioning the love of God.

To be honest I was having a hard time with things before Advent started. There were issues at work and I was rethinking my staying in the Haute until 2014 so it wasn't like I was skipping merrily along and the Advent Wreath of Doom came and slapped me in my face. I can acknowledge that I was already pretty sprained (if not broken) but I was moving along and making it happen and then he threw in the monkey wrench:

I saw Sister Felicia.

Sister Felicia is super famous in Terre Haute...among three of my friends. I talked about her and her wisdom all the time when I first got here that I am sure Sassy thinks she knows her just from my stories. She is someone from home and is always so lovingly honest and I would believe and do anything she tells me without question. God knows this and he uses this to his advantage from time to time.

When I saw her across the hotel lobby where our conference was being held, I could not believe it! At this really frustrating time in my life, I manage to see one of my favorite people and that was when I knew. I just felt it in my gut:

My world was going to be shaken up a bit.

I worked really hard not to burst into tears when I saw her. She was a friend! She was home to me! She has known me during major transitions in my life that have taken place over the past six years and I can't hide anything from her.

We had lunch and she let me have it.

She told me everything I knew in the back of mind that God was telling and brought it front and center. She let me cry into my napkin as we talked about Ralph (she knows him too), my life here, that guy I met and am not ready to talk about yet, our friend who died last year and other struggles in my life. 

Before she unleashed me back into the conference world (FUBARed and all), she gave me two "homework" assignments that have a deadline and I am not sure how I am going to deal with them, I don't know if I have it in me to make one of them happen, but I know better: Sister Felicia has spoken.

As I process all of this, rocked world and all, one thing she said has stuck with me. "I'm not worried about you, Lainie. You'll be fine. You're always fine." 

She's right. I always am. (Now I know how the Doctor feels.) Whether it feels like it or not, God is faithful to me and I will always come out fine.

Sister Felicia, I am gonna make you proud!

Bring on the Magnificat, I got this! 

I am ready to make this Advent my-well, you get the point.

I know I can see this through to the end and revel in the birth of Christ when the time comes, I don't know what will come of all of this; all I know for sure is that I am going to wait on the Lord.

If not for that, then why do we celebrate Advent?

Conference Time!

This post may seem a little off, but there is nothing I can do about it.

I am coming off a high.

Not a for real high (never have done drugs in my life), but almost a retreat high.

Sunday night I returned from what has had to be the best conference of my professional life. Every keynote speaker was amazing (that never happens), every last one of my workshops was fantastic and I feel that I learned so much that I HAVE to take back with me and implement in my job. I have been talking about it non stop and I think Sassy is way too nice to shout at me to “shut up already!”  So this will be the last you hear of the PD benefits…maybe.

Wednesday was my first night in Disney and I was so sad that I was going to be missing karaoke with my girls for the second week in a row and I was wandering around our hotel gift shop trying to figure out what I would do with the rest of my night. It was only 9 pm and I was about to surrender to being old and just go up to bed when I heard some one mention karaoke.

My ears perked up and I had to know where. Once I found that out, I made my way to the sushi restaurant in the resort. Something I should have known, the Japanese have to know how to start a karaoke party!

I have never been so wrong in my life.

The petite small voiced girl playing KJ was putting forth what I am sure she felt was a huge effort in getting people excited and signed up to sing and she was failing miserably.

It was the saddest moment in the Happiest Place on Earth

You have to know, if I go to a karaoke night by myself, I want it to be dead and awkward. When I go with others, they expect me to start the party and I have to sing songs that do just that. Please understand that no one puts a gun to my head and makes me sing “Proud Mary” or an equally fantastic tune, I just know what’s expected and I give the people what they want!

I had the opportunity to sing ballads all night long; no matter how much they bored people, no matter how much they may to complain. I didn’t have to see them anymore in my life.

I finished singing Norah Jones and all of my hopes were dashed. Someone Annette introduced me to in the lobby came in and he invited me to sit with others from a different branch of our company and I accepted.

My name is Lainie Mac, and I am a compulsive party starter.

I had to, there were people there and they deserved a good karaoke night! So I sang Proud Mary and did the dance, pulled a foreign business man on stage and made it happen for an ever grateful KJ.

The night went on and we had a blast and I started to get pulled on stage by others, sang more songs and danced in encouragement of other performers. We decided to head out and smoke cigars and I was just gonna leave, but the KJ wouldn’t let me! She asked me to stay for one more song and she was gonna put me next so I agreed and chose “I Want You to Want Me” by Cheap Trick.

Before I was up, she announced that I would be leaving (collective groan) and announced my last song. Everyone cheered and sang along and I got hugged on my way out the door.

I had a great conversation with the gentleman I had cigars with (I know, I am totally one of the guys no matter how much I try not to be!) and I got some great career advice along with resources. Believe me, the cigar breath I have for the next five years of my life was well worth the amount of good networking that time outside did for me.

I ended up hanging with them the rest of the conference and I barely saw Annette even though we shared a room! I attracted the attention of (another) 24 year old and I worked super hard to create an appropriate boundary because I have accepted that 24 is just too young! (Yes, I realize I was singing a different tune two months ago, but I now realize that I dodged a bullet with Brad so back off!) Anyway, Billy is a sweet kid and he was really working it, he actually reminded me of Ralph when we first met six years ago with a lot of the same mannerisms. I ran into my old friend, Sister Felicia while I was at the conference (super random, but awesome!) and she got to meet him and thought the same thing!

Not only do I have a type, but my type has me.

Every attempt I made to shake him never worked, he wasn’t even deterred by another guy entering the picture, and he just worked harder.  I didn’t know what else to do but remind him of his age and mine in conversations. (“Great weather we’re having isn’t it? I’m 33 and you’re 24). Yes, I realize I still have 18 days until I turn 33, but it was best that I round up for this situation.  We were having a great time and I really enjoyed hanging out with him, but he would get all moony-eyed and I was reminded that I am a magnet for younger men.

It is so hard to be me.

We ended up on the same shuttle to the airport and we sat together and cracked each other up and when the other guy and I were texting (not gonna talk about him now, maybe another time…or not) he called me on it and point blank and was all “why don’t you just marry him already?”

Real mature, Billy.

I just sighed and gave him my undivided attention because he had been calling me on my attachment to my phone all conference. (I was just missing CeeCee, Prue, Trix and Stacy and I didn’t want to be out of our Facebook messaging loop.) I figured we have had a great time and even though I was not going to fall in love with him anytime soon, I might as well maintain the friend I made and not piss him off in the next 30 minutes. It might make the transport awkward.

I was on such a conference high as well as preoccupied with some of the things that happened while I was in Florida that it really didn’t even faze me when Mona didn’t start when we got to the parking lot or even when she and I got a speeding for barreling down Ohio Blvd. later that night!

Now that I am home, I realize that conference and everything I experienced was definitely the second best thing about my year (the musical still holds the top spot!). I got to meet new people and experience new things and even cross something off my bucket list: on Friday morning, Billy and I were part of a flash mob!!

When we asked, we were so excited and we were trying to act normal before it started and we were definitely off on some of the moves, but we had a blast and I will never be able to listen to "Some Nights" the same way again.

Another benefit if the conference is that it challenged me to want to make my job work. Which means I might be staying in Terre Haute for a little bit longer and I am not sure about how I feel about that at the moment.

It drives me crazy (and blesses me) that God always knows exactly what I need and when. This conference was one of those things.

There was so much more that happened in between the party starting, cigar smoking, workshop attending, flash-mobbing and heart breaking that I am working on sharing with all of you, I just need a little more time to understand it all myself. And when I am ready, I imagine it will take some time to tell the tale.

Just know that I had a fantastic time and I am feeling a combination of blessed and frustrated which we all know means that God’s working on something in my life so I am just going to have faith, and maybe another cigar.