The Blob Revisited

Almost exactly one year after writing about my Blob, a Blob member informed me last night that reading it had warped his mind. He refused to elaborate. This got me thinking about my dear ol' Blob and how it has evolved into more of a Holidays-and-Special Occasions-only Blob, hence yesterday's Memorial Day Cookout. The handy thing about holidays and special occasions is they are just that, occasional.

Let's face it: co-ed is complicated, especially when it's on an all-the-time basis. But I must admit, some things are more fun with men around. Cookouts, for example, and wallyball, and camping (who's going to scare the bears away?) and when doing hard things, like unbolting the satellite dish from your balcony in the dark.

I don't advocate segregation. Nope. I'm all for integration, just on the right terms. My Blob has done a great job of this (and is much of the reason we are no longer a blob). In the past year, many of them have started seriously dating or are married or engaged. The interesting part is that very few of them found someone inside the Blob. They looked outside and voila, there he was.

Our get-togethers now are full of fun and great conversations, and I can be at ease because I'm not hyperventilating over what I wonder might be happening behind the scenes. "He talked to me all night last weekend too...is he interested?!?" or "Why isn't he interested? Can't he tell I'm dropping hints, and can't he see that we get along famously?" See? Complicated. But from what I can tell, the occasional times we all come together are lower pressure and 100% enjoyable. And who knows -- maybe under those terms a little romance will actually have room to blossom and breathe.

I still can't support the Blob as I knew it before, but I can't deny how much joy a healthy, mixed group of friends can bring to life. I suppose Solomon was right when he suggested there is a time for everything.

Dogs and DTRs

Two dogs accompanied my weekend. One big, one little, both perfectly charming. House/dog-sitting for a friend was risky business when I'm a selective dog-lover. But these two came with rave reviews, and they exceeded expectations. Except for one thing: they wanted too much love and cuddles. I'd never heard of such a problem.

Hero

Dolce

Night one: I felt like a million bucks. Everywhere I went, they went, and they wanted to snuggle. I'll take it!
Night two: ...Okay, my clean clothes are now dirty...haven't you loved enough? Alright fine, come here.
Night three: It was time for "the talk", especially with the larger than life German Shepherd, Hero. "Hero, I've really enjoyed meeting you. You're great. Fantastic, even. But...I think we're moving kinda fast. I need space and time to think through all this and I'm feeling a little, well, suffocated. See, I'm new to this whole thing and it's taking longer than I expected to be ready for it. Am I making any sense?"

He still didn't get it, but his persistence won me over. Dolce, or Little D, was an easy sell. He fit nicely in my lap and never thought our noses needed to touch. Oh, and he was cute as a button. I'm officially one step closer to saying I like dogs. For you dog-lovers out there, I understand. And I'm trying -- I really am. I'm confident that one day, with the right dog, I'll fall hard. Until then, I'm learning dogspeak for, "It's not you, it's me."

Routine Change

My dad is a man of routine. Any time of day, I could tell you his exact location, what he was doing and maybe even what he was eating. After trying hard to live a more spontaneous life, I've lately begun to see the beauty of routine. Life around me changes so fast, everything familiar is now a friend of sorts. 

The squirrel pattering his way across my roof just a few minutes after my alarm wakes me, the man on his smoke break waving at me as I drive past him on my way to work, that table against the wall where Kristin and I drink coffee together every Thursday morning, and my first peek out the window to see how beautiful Pikes Peak looks today. The content of today, its conversations, its highs and lows, will all be different than they were yesterday. These little things I used to think were boring and predictable and I tried so hard to avoid are now things I notice and savor every day. The same is true of the sunrise and the way the sunlight and shadows look on the mountains just before the sun goes down. They are faithful. 

When I try to explain to myself why we human beings like routine, the best answer I can conjure is that it reminds us every day of our humanity. From the first day of life, we needed a constant, but we also needed change. We can't avoid routine. The clock moves by the minute, the birds sing, we wash our faces and brush our teeth...or at least I hope so. We can't avoid change. The traffic patterns are different, our energy is greater or less than yesterday, and the phone rings with news. Life needs both. 

Is it possible that God designed the world just so, including our routines and changes, to help us better understand Him? The only things we know for certain, the routines, are that He is here with us now, He was there before we were, and He will be there at the end. Everything else changes. We're promised good and bad, difficult and easy, but the details remain a mystery. We're given just enough constant to endure the changes. That's all we need. 

Home and Away

Goodness me. I forgot about the blog for three weeks. April was a big month. I turned 26, decided on some important things, bought a classic black business suit and had it tailored (felt so grown-up), and took my first shot at watercolors. I just returned from a work trip to Washington DC, and the project that made me cry and inspired my last post turned out to be nothing at all. It went even more smoothly than last year, and I'm convinced prayer had everything to do with it. I was on my knees about that whole thing, and not a single person was lost in my records. It was a miracle.

DC taught me...

...how I really feel about home. We left Sunday morning, and by Sunday night I missed Colorado. Where are the mountains?! The sky?? A smile on the street? Help!!!

...that I'm accustomed to friendly downtown Colorado Springs, where it's only a little creepy to make eye contact on the street. In the big city, it's risking your life... or other important things.

...it's possible to feel like a month fit inside a week, and to be mentally present for the entire thing. I don't think I thought of anything but work for five days straight.

...I can fit a lot of good food in my belly.

...Newt Gingrich is just a normal guy.

...a joyful heart is good medicine.

...an early morning walk is brilliant, except when high heels are the shoe of choice today, tomorrow, the next day, and the next, for 12 hours minimum.

I couldn't be happier to come home to Colorado, to a day that beckons everyone outside and delivers blissful adventure with every step. It's the sort of place that gives room for thought and makes it very hard not to think of the majesty and grandeur of God. Maybe one day I'll get over my Colorado-love, but not today or tomorrow.