It's been so long

Probably no one even reads this anymore, but just in case I thought I'd post a link to the new blog I've recently started to talk about the baby that's on her way.  She'll be coming in April, and we are excited.  But worried, as she may have some special needs due to a birth defect on her nose and in her heart.  Anyway please read all about her at Encephalo..what?

And maybe someday I will get back to this blog....

Three Months and Counting!

Since my last post, I have been busy with school, work, and also getting ready to get hitched. It's stressful, but of course I am incredibly happy. I haven't been super fast at getting the news out, but believe it or not I am getting married THREE MONTHS FROM TODAY!! Please see the above save-the-date card if you don't believe me.

I have also started a wedding blog to help keep you all up to date with wedding news: www.teammmadams.blogspot.com (Please note the three m's). So far it has another copy of the save-the-date, registry info, and a map to reception venue.

I will be harvesting addresses soon, so if you are not sure if I have your updated address, please shoot me an email, or comment below so I can email you.

Max and I look forward to sharing our Big Day with you!

One Word

If I could choose one word to describe my relationship with max, I would select "surprise." Because all in all, this whole thing has been a surprise. First of all I was pretty astonished to find a someone worth talking to on that one dating site, and even more astonishing was that he wanted to talk to me too.

The good thing is that I like surprises, especially good ones, and Max is very talented at surprising me. Even from the day we met in person. I may have mentioned that I invited him to my cousin's wedding reception, and thanks to some cell phone difficulties, I didn't know he was coming until I saw him walk through the door. My heart sped up and melted all at the same time.

(picture courtesy of my cousin Monica. How awesome is it that I have a picture of the day we met?)

As our dating progressed Max found other ways to surprise me. He sent me my favorite flowers for my birthday; he had the above picture framed for me on our third-month-anniversary; he has sent quite a few packages; and my favorite: when he visits for the weekend he always leaves hidden notes for me. A practice I have tried to adopt as well.

I know he's wonderful, but all the time I feel so surprised at how kind, generous, and thoughtful he is. And he's so good lookin' to boot!

Four weeks ago during a family campout, Max wanted to take a walk. We always take walks together so it seemed like we were going to fulfill one of our traditions.

While on the walk he started talking all lovey-dovey, and while doing so, he surprised me by going down on one knee and asked if I would marry him. Like all of his surprises, it was completely unexpected. Naturally, there was just one word I could say in response:

"Yes!"

School Is Hard

I've promised to do the Big Catch Up, but today is not that day. I just wanted to explain why I haven't delivered on my promise. The reason is: Midterms. Maybe you remember them and they haunt your dreams to this day. This will happen to me, I just know it. I have had so many big projects due all at once, and not only have they kept me up literally all night long, they have kept me from my blog.

Here's a teaser to keep your interest piqued in what I will write about hopefullythisweekendprovidedIdon'tgetdumpedonbymyinstructorsagain.

Also, I totally chopped my hair all off. Pictures to come.

Overachievers, Please Try Harder

Another quarter has come and gone, and I am officially done with my first year as an Interior Design student. I have already mentioned how much I love it, and I think it loves me too. Yes, I am still getting good grades.

However, I don't really like school's grading policy. Instead of giving A's, B's, and C's we get grades like 4.0, 3.9, 3.8...you get the picture. So my final grades for this quarter were: 4.0 for Textiles, 3.8 for Architectual Graphics, and 3.7 for Rendering. Technically these are all A's, and I can't help but be pleased about that. But when I look at my accumulative GPA for the year, I have a 3.87. It looks like a got a B somewhere, but I didn't. A 3.7 is my lowest grade, which is still an A, but it doesn't look as nice as a 4.0. This is very frustrating. It is no longer enough just to get an "A" but now it has to be a nice, solid, perfect-looking 4.0.

P.S. The image above is a picture I took of my final project for Architectual Graphics where we learned how to draw 2 point and 1 point perspectives. If it wasn't for the stupid models we did earlier in the quarter I would have gotten a 4.0 in that class too.

A Word About Tattoos

Sometimes I see a really cool tattoo and think, "If I could come up with something that cool, I would so get a tattoo." But I really wouldn't because 1. the prophet said no and 2. I'm not a huge fan of needles. Sufficeth to say, I am not ever contemplating getting one. After all, they are kind of permanent.

That being said, sometimes I do enjoy body art. I worked with a girl at the bakery in NYC who had some clever tattoos that could stand the test of time. I am even slightly proud to say that I helped pick out one of them. (She wanted an homage to the home state of Washington, and instead of an apple, I suggested blackberries. It looks cool.) However, not everyone can pick out great tattoo designs. It takes a truly creative and inventive individual. Because if you aren't, it could be disastrous. You know what I'm talking about. You've seen it.

Case in point: (and I soooo wish I had a picture of it) a middle-aged lady came into the store sporting a tattoo on her foot that caused me to stare for a while. It was a very two-dimensionally stylized hopping frog. The kind of frog you would see in children's fabrics or on a rubber stamp (for her sake, maybe it was a stamp?). The following picture can give you an idea of what I'm talking about. Just picture it bright green and with a bow on its head.

I thought to myself, "Really? This is how you've chosen to decorate your body. FOREVER? Did the tattoo artist laugh when you picked this out because honey, I for sure would have. In fact, I'm laughing now."

So consider this a warning to all would-be tatted-up individuals: Choose wisely.

A Bright, Shiny Weekend

Well it was two weeks ago, but since I promised to write about my weekend with Max I thought I'd better get right down to it. Especially before I forget all the fun details. I really looked forward to Max's visit. Even though we had already spent hours getting to know one another by phone, text, and Skype I wanted to solidify this attachment by actually hanging out with him. I was nervous about seeing him again. I worried that I wouldn't feel the same way, or that my parents wouldn't like him. Or worse, that they would like him and then he would immediately repulse me. Thankfully, my parents and the pets all liked him, and I continue to like him still. Additionally, he continues to like me.

Anywhooo here is our fun weekend. In a list format:

1. There may be some truth the the phrase that a way to a man's heart is through his stomach. Although this hasn't worked for me in the past, I decided to try again. This time I chose the meals and my mom made them. We ate pretty good at home with marinated steaks, cinnamon rolls, pie, tandoori chicken, caramel popcorn. Not all at once, of course. And I think it worked!

2. One of the biggest challenges I faced that weekend was finding a way to entertain Max. I haven't really explored Spokane so I was at a bit of a loss, and I did not want to spend all weekend at the movie theater. Thankfully the super-cute Browne's Addition neighborhood was sponsoring two events: Artfest and Elkfest. (The latter being a music event with really bad rock bands.) Artfest was not exactly filled with art that I would want to purchase, but it provided one thing that I wanted for the weekend: props for aiding in my quest for good get-to-know-you questions and topics. I'm not so good at asking people about themselves; I consider myself more of an observer. Thus, I need props. This is what I learned: he wants his own stuff to do wood working and build furniture, he wants to know more about furniture styles throughout history, he appreciated the photography, and like me he wasn't interested in the rest of the stuff.

3. Even though Artfest and Elkfest as events were a bit of a bust, the two festivals were in a lovely neighborhood with fantastic historic homes. Many were in great shape, and it was fun to spy in the windows...except for that one that had creepy dolls in the window. (More on creepy dolls later.)

4. Max is so secure in his masculinity that he not only wanted to go, but also enjoyed what I already referred to as the estrogen-filled activity that was the Farm Chicks antiques fair. It was a really cool fair with so many antiques and vintage treasures that even though we just casually looked around, we stayed for over five hours. But we did not leave empty-handed: we bought spicy Cowgirl Chocolate; he purchased a vintage Hermes scarf for me; neckties and a belt buckle for himself, and he managed to get my hand into his.

5. The antiques fair was brimming over with gorgeous furniture pieces, bikes, and stuff (for lack of a better word), but there was also a large quantity of creepy dolls. Why are dolls so creepy looking?

6. To replenish ourselves from a day filled with antiques, we ate a late lunch in a milk bottle...or rather a building that looked like a milk bottle. We also looked at vintage cars, and saw grown ladies ride tricycles.

7. We next headed to the downtown portion of Spokane, and looked at the Spokane Falls. It was a rare hot and summery day so I thought standing by the river would cool us off. It did. One rogue wave totally splashed me. For a moment, I thought we were at Niagara Falls.

8. To dry off we walked all over Spokane. We burned off every ounce of good home-cooked delights, and the fries from lunch. I showed Max a few of Spokane's highlights, like the gigantic Red Flyer wagon in the park. After the shock of seeing something so cool/odd we found a secluded bench for some restful getting to know you stuff. That's all the details I'm going to give on that. Wink wink.

9. We ate Indian Food for dinner because we both like Indian food. Max encouraged me to have an appetizer and I finally tasted a samosa. Why did I wait so long to eat one? Yumyum.

10. The sly ladies at church came up to me and asked if that handsome gentleman with me was my brother. They just wanted to know if he was my boyfriend. Which he is.

11. My favorite part of the weekend was the 3+ mile walk we took Sunday afternoon. For a few short hours it felt as though the planet slowed its rotation, and stretched out my final afternoon with Max (for the weekend. There will be other weekends and more afternoons.)

12. We also hung out with some neighborhood goats.

13. Max didn't seem to mind that I totally kicked his trash playing card games with the family. He is new to the game Hand and Foot, so I bet he's practicing to have his revenge.

14. Monday morning before he left, and before I went back to school, he came over to have breakfast with me one more time. It was hard to concentrate at school and work all day, and all week long.

15. I can't wait for 4th of July weekend.

The Bees Knees

*p.s.andbytheway, I have no idea why the font is so weird today.

Now that you have recovered from the shock of my online dating announcement, I thought I'd go back to the beginning to tell you how we got to last weekend. Along with pictures!!

Around the start of the new year, out of curiosity, I began the process of having a profile on one of those LDS dating sites, heretofore referred to as "The Planet." I was immediately...horrified. Even without a picture or a populated profile (do you dig the alliteration?) I started receiving messages from people wanting to connect even though they knew absolutely nothing about me. Does anyone else find that creepy, or is that my overly-sensitive creep meter? Additionally, I didn't really find any profiles that were interesting. So I kind of gave it up until some pleading from my parents, who were concerned about my lack of social activity, and kindly paid for me to talk to people on the site. I was still a little wary, but one profile stood out enough for me to give it a go:

This isn't Max's profile picture...this is him and my cat Mr. Bingley, who adores Max.

So I wrote up something cute and charming, posted my picture, and hoped for the best. The next morning I had a message from Max, who lives in the Seattle area. And so for a month we exchanged emails and even had some fun live chats. He pretty much had zero competition, because everyone else who contacted me was either over 60, from a developing nation, or just plain not interesting.

Fast forward to Easter weekend and my cousin's wedding. I thought that perhaps since I would be in the area, I should try to meet Max. So, I sent an email to invite him to the wedding reception, which is quite possibly the most awkward way to meet someone ever. Besides perhaps a funeral. My phone was not working at all, so I had absolutely NO IDEA he was going to come until he actually showed up. My heart totally skipped a beat when I saw him walk through that door. He's totally cute in person.

We hit it off famously, finding conversation natural and easy. It wasn't even awkward. After the reception we walked around Seattle and threw around potential opportunities to see each other again. Things like the Farm Chicks antiques show here in Spokane. You just can't help admire a guy secure enough in his masculinity to agree to go to this estrogen-fest.

But before he showed up at my doorstep on Friday afternoon, we got to know eachother by texting, phone calls, and Skype. Since the distance makes traditional dates a challenge, we have Skype dates. For example, to celebrate 1000 texts, we each got Jimmy Johns sandwiches and ate them while Skyping. He helped me have the best birthday ever by sending me flowers and a gift card to my favorite art supply store.

He found out that I like peonies and hydrangea.

We have a lot of things in common, like music, style preferences, and a healthy dislike for mushrooms. And the icing on the cake is his kindness, generosity, sensitivity and patience.

So naturally, I couldn't wait for his visit. Which I would love to tell you all about, but I need to get ready for my Skype date with Max. Wouldn't you be eager too to talk to this dashing fellow?

Besides Homework...

Work and school aren't the only things that keep me busy. Sometimes I spend a lot of time on the phone. Talking. And Skyping. I'm not just reconnecting with old friends. Sometimes, like this blog, they get ignored. (A little too often for both, really.)

This story is this: after that truly depressing date story I told you earlier, I decided to widen my dating search using *audible gasp* the internet. This is a story in and of itself, but at 11:42 pm, now is not the time. Long story short, I actually found someone interesting. The feeling was mutual, and we met at my cousin's wedding reception held in Seattle in April. (Another story...)

I'm telling you this now because he -whose name is Max - is in Spokane to visit little old me. I couldn't be happier.

maybe this picture is better:

I caught him off guard which is hard to do with a big camera.

Anyway, that's the condensed-because-I-need-my-beauty-sleep version.

More to come. I promise.

Apologies Are In Order

Dear Readers,

I just received an email from one of you (are perhaps all of you collectively) stating your disappointment in my negligence of this blog. I could be put off and cross and spout off all the reasons why I don't write as often, but instead I am going to apologize. I guess I didn't know you cared.

Since you apparently care, it is time to fill you in on the goings on that I tend to think are a little mundane for a blog once filled with travel adventures.

Monday through Friday I get up and go to school, which I think you know, but I haven't even gushed about how much I love it. I love love love it. It's challenging (more so than my B.A. in French), I have so much homework, and I am good (more so than that B.A. in French). Who knew that I could draw and build things like this:

Actually, that wasn't that much fun to build, and I am kind of glad model-building is over. But I DID IT, and sometimes that's what counts.

I really enjoy my classes, and I wake up looking forward to textiles, drafting, and coloring. Like I said before, the program is challenging. After all I am learning to do things (drawing & coloring) that I never thought I could do. Daily, I have an A-Ha moment of amazement when I look over a finished project and think to myself "did I draw that?" I have also discovered that I have a knack for choosing to draw challenging details found in traditional styled-homes like paneling, moldings, and other stuff. Maybe my subconscious realizes that if I tackle more difficult subjects I may actually be successful. Hopefully. Because truly I prefer cleaner, mid-century modern designs.

When I'm not at school, I'm at work. And to be honest, this is where the gushing stops. I really dislike retail. And I could honestly care less about oils and vinegars. It is not challenging to be grateful for school, but it is a challenge to feel grateful for this. I know that I am lucky to have this, or any job for that matter. But my mind and spirit craves something a little different, and my pocketbook wishes for something that pays for school a little better. A lot better. (Is there a scholarship out there specifically for me?) I have been looking for something else, but it is not easy to find work that pays well and allows me to go to school. (Insert a sigh of resignation.)

School and work do tend to dominate my life and time, and there is barely any time left in a day to add anything else. But there is something else, and that will soon get it's very own blog post.

Thank you, dear readers, for schooling me on my blogging duties. I will set aside some time to try to stay current, and keep you informed about my life. Thank you for caring.

Best regards,

Clifford

This Is a Breakthrough

Did I ever mention the odd dates I went on this fall? Probably not, because I haven't been blogging much, but I feel this is a bit noteworthy.

Last fall I got a phone call from a fellow I talked to at a single adult conference (and who I actually met when we both lived in Bellevue) to tell me that a lady in my ward wanted to set us up, and since he didn't know who I was he thought it might be a good idea. However, he warned, that he was dating someone so the "date" wouldn't lead to anything. Since I actually knew who he was, I let him know we didn't need to go out.

A few weeks later, he must have gotten out of whatever relationship that was, because he called again looking for baking tips. He was asking a lot about bread baking which I don't know much about bread, I suggested he talk to my mom. He came over and talked to my mom. She was actually surprised that that was all he wanted. Somehow I wasn't.

A few days later he called again, and this time asked me out. After finding what kind of restaurants I liked (I said Indian because it is tasty), he promised to find the best Indian restaurant in Spokane for our date. With the prospects of a good Indian dinner I was kind of looking forward to the date, but not really looking forward to the person I would be spending time with. But I thought I'd give it the old college try. That lasted 5 minutes. After picking me up, he announced that we were not going to have Indian food, we would instead go to the grocery store and create as good a meal as possible under $10. And the cheaper the better. Awesome. That's so much better than Indian food. In some weird alternate universe that I do not want to be a part of.

We ate a glamourous spaghetti dinner and watched a movie. Then he took me home, and I hoped he wouldn't call again.

Oh, but he did. He wanted to have a religious discussion and then watch a movie. He warned me that there would be no food. I agreed because I still felt that I should make an attempt, after all I hadn't made many friends and I thought perhaps a second chance might be fine. Yeah. Our religious discussion ended pretty quickly. He complained about the Book of Job, and when I shared my thoughts he got up and walked away. No response, no rebuttal, he just focused his efforts on finding a movie.

I enjoyed the movie, while he slept...all the way until the end of the movie when he apologized for falling asleep, and then slept some more. He drove me to his house, so I sat there wondering if I remembered the directions to his house enough to have my dad come get me. At 11:30 I woke him up and he took me home. Ye Olde College Try was officially over.

A couple of weeks ago I was a little sad that another Saturday night had arrived and I had no plans and friends to call. So when this fellow called at 11:30 at night to ask me out I said yes. But after much thought I called him back to cancel. He really only wanted to learn how to make creme brulee (our activity for the evening after going to the grocery store to buy another under-ten-dollar dinner). And I didn't want to go out with him; I was just sad and lonely. And that is not enough reason to go out on a date.

Believe it or not, this is kind of huge for me. Normally I would have gone and complained about it later, while bemoaning my terrible life.

It was also huge that I didn't convince myself to like him and put up with all of that.

Crappy dates. Yes. But it was a valuable growing moment for me.

A Lapse

Just so you know...all these weeks that I have not been blogging I have been doing homework.

I've been on Spring Break for a week now, and maybe I'll get a few posts in before it all starts up again.

I haven't checked my grades, but I may just have a couple "A's." Hopefully.

What's In Your Backpack?

One slow evening at work while I was washing some dishes, a fellow came into the store and requested some assistance from my coworker to put together a gift basket for his wife. Eager for something to due Olivia (my coworker, whose name is Olivia, and yes she works at an olive oil store. Ironic? Oh yes.) happily said she could help him pick out some products. As they started going through our best sellers, the customer said that if the present turned out well, he would show her what was in his backpack.

This is where I started listening. This was just a couple of days after a bomb in a backpack interrupted a Martin Luther King, Jr. Day parade. Fortunately the bomb never went off, but it certainly made headlines in Spokane. Anywhoo, bombs, severed body parts, and/or other scariness I peeked around the corner to make sure Olivia was alright and to make sure I could pick the customer out of a lineup if need be.

I quickly finished up my dishes and headed out to the sales floor. The customer seemed jovial enough, and my coworker and I ended up forgetting about that backpack. We helped him pick out jams, oils, and other foodstuffs, and he was ready to buy anything we suggested. I arranged the gift basket (it's one of my many/few talents), and Olivia rung him up. Then he reminded us about the backpack.

He mentioned that he had to be careful, because what was inside was alive. Puppies? Kitties? My eyes were lit up by the possibility of fuzzy little puppies. Then he asked if we were ok with snakes. Many people, like Olivia, are not ok with snakes. She headed for the back. I am ok with non-poisonous reptiles and stuck around to watch him pull out his live animal.

Which was not a reptile. "It's a baby kangaroo!" I squealed like a five-year-old girl, while the customer unwrapped a kangaroo wearing a diaper. Turns out this fellow is not only not a bomber, he runs a farm that raises exotic animals, like kangaroos. This particular fellow was a four-month old wallaroo who is still young enough to be in his mama's pouch or a surrogate's backpack.

Of course Olivia and I were more than excited about this little guy, so naturally when he said we could hold it we were over the moon. We ran for our cameras, and then took turns holding and snapping photos.

It's amazing that guy fit in a backpack!

The following Saturday our new favorite customer was back with his wife who also had a joey in her backpack, but he was much smaller. He was thrown from pouch very prematurely, so they kept him warm in the backpack...except when she took him out so we could hold him.

Now I wouldn't recommend throwing caution to wind if someone wants to show you his or her backpack, but at least make sure weather or not there is a kangaroo in there. Or warm, fuzzy, living puppies.

Merry Christmas one and all!

Atta Boy, Clarence!

George Bailey, I will love you 'till the day I die.

Gallery Opening

So I took a drawing class last quarter, and I was very nervous about it, because I've never considered myself an "artist." But not all artists come out of the womb with drawing utensils in their hands, and they had to take classes to get better.

I am going to show you some of my favorites from the quarter. Now, I am not comparing myself to anyone with real, viable talent, but I am pretty impressed that I drew anything that looked like anything remotely recognizable. Here they are:

Oops. The last one is sideways.

Where's the Rug for My Nap?

In case you were wondering I did get into all three classes at the community college. And I have loved every minute of it. My classes are engaging, I am gaining all sorts of new talents, and the instructors are very approachable. (Much more so than my experience at a particularly well-known university where I received my first degree.) The other nice thing about the community college is that I am not the oldest student there. I saw a few older students when I went in to get my parking pass, and I wanted to fist-pump all of them in some sort of recognition of solidarity. Anyway, in my classes, I am not the only one with a previous degree, nor am I the only one starting over.

It really has felt like I am completely starting over....like, kindergarten starting over. This quarter I did a lot of:

cutting and pasting. I am pretty good at it too. Two of my cutting and pasting projects are still at school and will be displayed in the hallway. I should have taken pictures before turning them in. Somehow I am not sure if I will ever get them back...

I've also drawn kitties and houses. Not to mention all sorts of other things.

Last, I re-learned how to write the alphabet and numbers. And unlike my penmanship grades in kindergarten and 1st grade, I actually did pretty well with the new style (which requires a drafting table, straight edge, and 45-degree triangle to accomplish).

I am also a straight-A student. I'm pretty sure that never happened at BYU, either.

Esther, The Plans Have Been Changed

One of my favorite movies growing up was Vincent Minelli's "Meet Me In St. Louis." Really, what's not to love: fun-and short-musical numbers, fabulous "ginger-peachy" catchphrases, creepy Victorian Halloween practices, and the joy of knowing that I won't have to wear a corset to make a move on members of the opposite sex. (Hmmm...maybe that would help...)

Recently a certain part of the Christmas ball scene has been replaying in my mind. Esther and her sister Rose plotted to get back at Lucille Ballard for going to the ball with Warren Sheffield (Rose's beau) instead of their brother Lon. Rose and Esther filled Lucille's dance card with the city's less-than-optimal dance partners. Once Miss Ballard arrived at the ball, she insisted that Warren pair off with Rose, and she would then get to spend time with Lon. Rose was more than pleased with the arrangement, and unbeknownst to Esther, agreed to the new arrangement. Soon Esther joined the party with the filled dance card from you-know-where, when Rose hastily, and and rather snootily I might add, stated that "The plans have been changed," and then waltzed off with Warren. (Or maybe it was Virginia Reel.) Esther kept the wicked dance card for herself, and had a tortured Christmas ball until her grandfather (and later heart-throb John Truitt) saved her.

You are now probably wondering why this particular scene has been playing in my mind. As you all know, I've been unemployed and trying to get a job so I can save up money to go back to school next fall. Needless to say, I've been a little impatient and worried that I've maybe made yet another poor decision. I may live at home, but it is still no fun to be without pocket money--especially with the autumn approaching and I seem to have misplaced my long-sleeved shirts and closed-toe shoes.

One day I was pondering my situation and thought about starting to school early--at a local community college, and paying for it along the way with a part-time job. Like, at the mall or something. The idea didn't sit well. It didn't match my plans to spend my first paycheck at Boden, Anthropologie, and the Nordstrom shoe department. All of a sudden I heard Rose Smith's uppity voice telling me the "the plans have been changed." I knew that I would not be dancing with the 20 most eligible St. Louis bachelors circa 1903. I am dancing with the rejects. I know, I know....there is nothing wrong with training at a community college, or working at the mall. It just wasn't what I planned.

But maybe things are working out. A couple in my ward hired me to work at their store in the mall selling fancy olive oils, vinegars, etc. And with any luck I'll be starting school tomorrow. Since I'm a late registrant I have to beg the teachers to add me. If it is "meant to be" then it will work out, and my dance with the circa 1903 St. Louis rejects will pass quickly, and my figurative John Truitt will show up the make the rest of the ball fabulous.

Keep in mind, however, that I reserve the right to have more changed plans.

Don't Sign Me Up

Clubs are supposed to be things that people want to join. It just so happens that I am privileged to have the right pedigree to join either the Daughters of the American Revolution (DAR) or the Daughters of the Utah Pioneers (DUP). This is not to say that I am planning on joining any such club at the moment--I am pretty sure I lack the funds--but I could if I really really wanted to do so. Also, I am not 100 percent certain what I would do with any such organization. All I know about the DAR I learned from Gilmore Girls: meetings, luncheons, and fundraisers. All I know about the DUP is that my paternal grandmother joined, but I don't recall her mentioning any tea parties. However, being a member of either, or both, society does have one important benefit: being well-connected. If there is one thing I have gained from my time with Jane Austen (in either book or film form) is that it is important to come from a well-connected family...should one want to rub shoulders with good society and get hitched to a well-to-do single fellow who is naturally looking for a spouse.

Just as the DAR and DUP could help in social situations...or whatever...there is one club that could take all the benefits of connectedness away in one mighty swoop: The Crazy Cat-Lady Club (CCLC). Let's face it, while it is perfectly O.K. to like and own a few cats, loving and owning a horde of them is socially and hygienically a really bad idea. Unfortunately for me, just as easy as I could join the more high-class organizations, it appears that I am capable of being a member of the CCLC.

I'll be honest, I do like cats. I like to pet them, hold them, and I'm kind of fond of the way they purr. But that's where I'd like to keep it. Unfortunately, a couple of the cats at home are a little too hell-bent on making me look like a member of the CCLC.

Here are the Kitty Troublemakers: (on the left) Charlie, an 11-year-old male with a loud, chirpy meow, and a thick coat that he completely sheds whenever I wear black; (on the right) Mr. Bingley, a 1-year-old male, with a silent-to-squeeky meow, wild curiosity, and the ability to adapt to his lack of opposable thumbs.

Maybe I'm overreacting a little; all I know is that up until three-and-a-half months ago cats wouldn't give me the time of day. Now I have to put with 3:00am cuddling; constant requests for attention; "help" when I am typing on the computer or making my bed; an audience while washing my face; following me around; demands that they sit on my lap (this even happens with other people's cats these days...); exercise "assistance"; and having to hold them.

This behavior is relatively tolerable, but I have had to put an end to them following me into the bathroom whilst I shower. Mr. Bingley followed me in the other day. I thought I could get rid of him once I turned on the water. It didn't work, so I proceeded to disrobe while trying to avoid his staring eyes. Since the water takes its time getting warm, I thought a nature break was in order. So as I sat on the toilet, completely in the buff, Mr. Bingley thought it was an opportune time to sit on my lap. That was uncomfortable. It is one thing to hold a cat fully clothed, but it is another thing entirely to hold one while naked. Awk.Ward. It is a moment that totally propels one straight into the dreaded CCLC. I love our cats, but I don't want to love our cats. Needless to say, I didn't let him stay.

I am very certain that CCLC acts like that could keep me out of the DAR and DUP, and well, the rest of respectable society.

Why Dating Should Be a Lot More Like Shoe Shopping

Since I have been home my main focus--however unfocused the process has become--is to get a job, save money, and figure out a good-enough career path for me to follow. Unfortunately certain people in my family seem to think I should also be concerned about dating. And a certain member of my family thinks it would be a good idea to set up an online account for me. (I have warned this person that I will never ever ever speak to him/her again if it happens. Consider this your second warning.)

I'll admit that some people have been very successful at finding a match via the internet. My cousin met a completely functioning individual that we have been more than happy to have as part of the extended family. Maybe I could be just as fortunate. My biggest issue is with the whole process of searching on the internet. It's not like, say for example, shoe shopping online.

To begin with, if I want to shop for shoes online, I can log onto Zappos or Piperlime without having to announce myself first. I don't need to create a "Shoe Shopper Profile" stating that I am a "tall brunette with an 8 1/2 shoe size looking for a classic yet modern black pump to wear to work, church, and fun social gatherings." Shoe stores do not care if I am a Taurus or if I like candle-lit dinners and long walks on the beach, and they don't need a picture of me. The best part is that I don't have to cross my fingers and hope that the pair of shoes I like will also choose me. Zappos and Piperlime just want me to look, find the right shoe (and the left, for that matter), purchase, and live happily ever after in my sleek, black Calvin Klein pumps with the wicked high heels.

Plus, I have never had to pay a fee for the privilege to shop for shoes. Sure, we have to fork out the cash when we find something, but I do believe it is one of our inalienable rights to shoe shop for free. I am pretty sure it is categorized under the "pursuit of happiness" part of the deal. After all, who wants to pay a fee, and then not find anything, or worse--be rejected? I generally do not pay to be rejected. That is just mean. Cruelly and unusually. I can get rejected for free.

Truthfully, when I look for shoes I would rather go to a brick-and-mortar shoe store to do the shopping. I have to try on before I buy. So my whole approach to dating is similar: look for the fellows in the places where fellows I would want to date should be, and if I am lucky, talk to them. Normally I got to places like church, social gatherings with friends, or through worthy recommendations from other friends. Please note, I am dismally unsuccessful, as you probably have guessed. For example, nearly two weeks ago my sister and I dragged ourselves to a Single Adult Conference filled with the region's selection of "shoes". I met some nice girls, too bad I shop for men. I did talk to some options that were nice and probably normal...loafers. I am in the market for sleek, black, classy-yet-modern pumps of the Calvin Klein variety (kind of like the ones I saw at Macy's this May but didn't have enough money to purchase) but will be perfectly happy with Nine West, Jessica Simpson, Miz Mooz, Cole Haan, Franco Sarto, etc. you get the idea. There were some there that looked like they could fit the bill, but they either act like custom-made, one-of-a-kind Salvatore Ferragamos, and not interested in communicating with someone who just wants a pair of Calvin Kleins, or they were already taken. Should I just settle for loafers when that shoe isn't what I want/need?

Shoe shopping can have challenges just like people shopping, but when I find the pair I want, that fits perfectly, and is in my budget, I can proceed to checkout. In the dating/relationship world it would be nice to go a certain place, pick out what I want, present myself, and then...proceed to checkout. But people just don't work that way. With my luck, after going to a certain place, picking out someone and presenting myself, I will most likely get laughed at.

So, I either need to make my peace with a life of loafers, or I will just have to splurge and buy those nice Calvin Klein pumps I saw this May. Or the yellow flats I saw at Target. Either way, I just want to go shoe shopping.