Oh, eHarmony

Hello there.  I'm back.  There's major change afoot, and I'll tell you all about it sometime.  In the meantime, I thought you might this is as funny as I did.

So, I'm on eHarmony in the hopes of actually meeting a living, breathing Christian man to date in NYC.  And I'm actually having a pretty good response, partially because I extended the age range of matches I would accept to include the 40-45 year old crowd.  Man, I am a spring chicken compared to guys who were born in the 60's.  I don't even want to think about trying to learn another person's favorite decade of rock and roll when I never even learned my own. 

Tonight I got a set of questions from a guy named Steve, who answered my questions with very bland Christianese, even on questions that didn't call for any religious view whatsoever.  I admit, it irritated me.   And then I read his questions.  Uh-oh.  He committed item #1 on Joanna's cardinal sin list-- multiple spelling mistakes.  I know its catty and probably explains why I am on eHarmony in the first place instead of lounging at home on a couch with a husband, but I couldn't help making up the following fictional replies to the questions he sent me and sharing them with you:

# Outside of your Faith , what are the most important things, goals, or dreams in your life?
fake answer: I dream of a world in which words that need not be capitalized are not capitalized.

# What turns you on about a man? What keeps you passionate about them?
fake answer:  Not asking inappropriate questions to women they don't really know.  Correct use of pronouns.

# Have you ever given 100 percent to a activity for an extended period of time?
fake answer: Yes, hunting for missing n's.

Fall Fun

Sprëchen zie fric and frac

Yep, I'm in the middle of learning a German role.  I don't speak German.  I mean, not one bit.  I sang one piece in German when I was 18 for a competition, which I lost to an uppity 16 year-old that I hated (stage mom, supercute-- ugh!), and never went back.  So, here I am, with Google translate and a Cassell's German/Engish dictionary I picked up at Westsider Books for $11, trying to translate stuff like this:

ein roter Tau fiel mitternachtig, der macht die Naßgrünen moche trächtig.

Which means:

A red dew fell at midnight, making the damp green newts horny.

Did I mention I'm playing a witch??

This is actually going to be quite fun-- I love the sing-songy lines, and the fact that I get to play such a ridiculous, mean, awful, spiteful, nasty character.  And wow!  Navigating the sounds of german first-off is a bit tricky, but once you get it, watch out!  This witch can bite your head off just with words!

The joke about mezzo-sopranos is that they only play three roles:  witches/bitches/britches--- meaning evil women, loose women, and men.  Women often play young men in opera-- they're called 'pants roles'.  I should probably learn a role or two since I'm tall and have long legs, but I've been resistant for a long time-- I'm pretty sure I'd crack up if I had to pretend to make love to a woman.  Still, you never know until you try....

Hope at the Crossroads

Yeah, I walked into a wine shop after meeting with my Spiritual Director, and picked these two wines randomly.  I didn't even realize the names until I pulled them out at home.  Then I laughed pretty hard.

 

Going Native, Part 3

It happened so quickly, I didn't realize the significance of it until an hour later.

I was heading to the gym last night and a thunderstorm was brewing. (Little did I know that a tornado was touching down in Brooklyn at that very moment, but that's someone else's story.  It was just a regular old thunderstorm to me.)  One of the street vendors was folding up his purse stand at the corner of Lex and 85th-- I had walked by a couple of days earlier and noticed a purse that I wanted but didn't have the whatever to actually stop and buy it-- hutzpah?  time?  cash? Who remembers. Anyway, I squeezed under his makeshift plastic awning, grabbed the purse, and quickly start bartering and talked him down by 5  bucks.  Great.

Only later did I realize I had finally purchased the New York City Girl Bag-- that purse that can fit all the regular purse stuff, plus your lunch, three books, a change of shoes, and a potential change of clothes because who is ever home anyway and you can't leave it in  your car--all in a deceptively small looking fashionable bag. 

I'm surprised I lasted this long. I used it last night when I went downtown to hear Over The Rhine (awesome show at a very cool winery) and was able to tote my stilletoes to the show and then throw my hefty clogs in there no problem.  Today I went to my coaching and was able to fit three scores in it!  I'm in love.  I'm off to my church's retreat this weekend and was actually contemplating trying to see if the purse could fit all my toiletries and two changes of clothes, and realized I had gone a bit too far.  Still, a whole new and wonderful world is open to me...it's a new day.

In the Boat

I read Mark 4 about Jesus going out into the boat with his disciples and calming the storm as a Lectio Divina spiritual exercise yesterday.  It was eye opening what came out for me.  I know enough of you who read my blog will appreciate this, so thought I'd post it--

I took the place of a disciple working along side Jesus.  What I noticed is that she worked all day too, and then Jesus, at the end of the day, has her continue working by going over to the other side of the Lake.  He goes and takes a nap, she continues working by sailing the boat.  The storm comes up.  I’m sure she worked really hard trying to keep the boat afloat—she only wakes Jesus up once the boat is about to sink with this panicked expression—Don’t you care if we drown?  Jesus calms the storm, looks at her and says, Why are you afraid?  Have you no faith? 

As I focused on that rebuke I got really angry.  Finally, I took up my side and argued with Jesus—that’s unfair.  What do you mean I don’t have faith?  I have faith enough to work all day with you, get into this boat with you.  That’s just mean.  The storm comes up.  I have faith and I work hard, trusting that you will ride me through the storm.  What was I supposed to do?

What should the disciple have done?  How was she to exercise her faith? 

I am certain that a biblical scholar would find fault with my conclusion, but the point here is not to be biblically accurate, it's to insert yourself into the story and see what Jesus is saying to you.   I finally came to the conclusion that she should have woken Jesus up a lot earlier.  And said to him, LORD, there’s a storm brewing.  I need to be honest with you—I'm scared.  Please help me.

Jesus is saying to me, Joanna, wake me up, sit at my feet, and tell me what's the matter.   I have an open invitation from Jesus to not keep the things that are weighing me down to myself, but take them to him with the expectation (which is the key here) that He is listening and can and will help me in a meaningful way.  I need to wake Jesus up, be honest about my need, and say, can we take a look at all of this?  So I started. 

Spiritual Direction

I went out to the hinterlands today, also called New Jersey, to meet up with C., a member at my rockin' church, an IV staffer, and a spiritual director.  I had heard her name around church, I'd met her on a couple of occasions, and a few weeks ago I ended up praying with her after church in a really nice, normal sort of way, about a picture I had gotten in prayer.  One thing lead to another and then there I was on the train to meet with her for direction.  It was one of those experiences where I thought this was going to happen months ago, but knew I didn't need to do anything-- it would come to me when the time is right.  Wow, I sound very Yoda-ish there, but its the truth.

It was great to meet with her.  It was relieving to meet with her.  It was great to be in a place with time carved out and to unload on a spiritually discerning person the truth about me right now and know she wasn't going to freak out, worry about me, or give me paint by number instructions about what to do next.  I cried my eyes out, I was articulate, she asked good questions, we kept digging, I got some clarity, I felt relieved and lighter and less a mystery to myself.  A lot of things that I was perceiving as failure was actually growth, albeit painful growth.  Where I am makes sense and how I'm feeling makes sense.   She then gave me some suggestions about how to go about praying in the coming months out of the Ignatian spiritual practices.  I'm looking forward to seeing what comes of it.

Which just leads me to thankfulness.  God is so kind.  What a good gift.