On guns and garden centers...

Strange bed fellows you might ask? Not in the least.  They have one thing in common.

Outdoors?

Fresh air?

Lots of wood? Closer...

Boys.

So as I was shooting on Saturday with the girls (oh, hush.  I don't kill animals or anything.) And doing a fine job of it when I noticed.  I was surrounded.  By men.  Old, young, cute not so cute.  And they were all interested in the 3 twenty-something females shooting the Ruger22.  Even the cutie wearing the MSU sweatshirt (I'll forgive him that) who let me play with what he was packing.  A single action 22 Magnum. 

For an hour and half, in all of our delightful gun ignorance we were bells of the ball (if the ball involved Sara Palin, firearms, and safety guns). 

Fast-forward to today when I went to Menards to buy the bricks for my new retaining wall.  And I noticed again.  Boys...everywhere.  I was actually astounded by the lack of female employees.  And they were all interested in helping me (granted they are paid to.... hush, don't pop my bubble) Suddenly, becoming a home owner with only minimal working knowledge of lawncare and plumbing is the best pick up line.

And it gets me wondering...why go to the bar where the men I meet are only interested in casual flings.  Been down that road.  And it left me leaving dirty.  And not in a good way.  More of a mis pantalones son sucios kind of way.  Not that I'm saying working at the Menards makes you a saint or morally superior.  But I'd rather chit-chat about bushes then....er...nevermind.

On temptations...

Mae West once said, "I generally avoid temptation unless I can't resist it," a saying which has been my modus operandi for my entire life. Not today.

Today was a normal day. With it's normal ups and downs. And my normal bit of insomnia. This week it has been strangely 4:36 am. What it is about that magic time, I'll never know. But suddenly I am wide awake as if someone had thrown a cold bucket of water on my body. For the next two hours I struggle with questions, only falling asleep about 17 minutes before my alarm goes off.

I keep asking, when? When will I meet this deadline? When is my credit card bill due? When is my next paycheck? When will I see the girls next? When will the other shoe drop? When will I fall in love? When will I fall asleep content?

Failing answers at night, I struggle to sleep. Failing answers during the day, I find and stuff myself with chocolate.

Not today.

Given 4 separate occasions to fail hard, I didn't. Because instead of being the insidious voice in my head undermining my confidence, the when became at first a plea, then a demand and finally a war cry.

When?

Now.

On happy meals...

Unlike most of my other posts, this starts on a happy note. And unlike most of McDonald's other claims, I do have to agree the happy meal does fulfill its promise.

It's happy to see you!

A coworker just surprised me by bringing me a happy meal. Now unless you are a six-year-old, this would not be the highlight of your day. In a day unremarkable because of its normalcy, where life was neither good nor bad, just life, I now had a colorful box filled with little goodies. Hot french fries, a fun toy and a shamrock shake became a small little break from the mundaness of today. Putting together the toy, racing it across my desk as the hot greasy goodness burnt my mouth. The fries and shake now reside in my belly, the little toy will be absconded by Des tomorrow, but for all the hours in this mediocre day, I had a few happy minutes.

On taxes...

Benjamin Franklin once said, "Nothing in life is certain except death and taxes." Oh, Ben you rascally scamp. How true you are.

I arrived home Monday after enjoying a lovely snow day at Borders. In the mail was a letter from my mortgage company. Hmmm...never a good sign. They were increasing my monthly payment.

By $127 dollars.

While this may not seem a lot to some people, for this single woman buying this house all on her lonesome it is a big deal. A mortgage, utilities, credit cards and two student loan payments mean I have very little disposable income at the end of the month. I freaked.

After several calls to the mortgage company (a mistake in my taxes last year necessitated and increase this year, go to the city fight this assessment, etc.) and the city, I felt alone. More then figuratively. (Literally my roommate was not home.)That cold feeling in your stomach. At that moment, the reality of me being alone in this venture came crashing home. Where was my prince charming to hold me tight and tell me everything was going to be okay? We all now collectively wait for the part where he arrived at the door, rose and fat check in hand.



Yeah. I'm still waiting too. But as the deed says, Pam Howe a single woman is the owner of this house. No Prince listed. I grabbed some power tools and went upstairs to work on the guest bedroom. I had shelves to put up and decor to finish. It gave something productive for me to do. As I worked with my hands it took my mind away from the reality of my situation. My guest room began to resemble that place that friends could come and find respite from their cares. I began to transform that room into my home. Which, as my sister reminded me earlier, is why I bought the house in the first place. It was important for me to create a home. So the belt has been tightened. Expenses cut...brown bags bought.

But regardless of what tomorrow brings, additional taxes, backed-up sewers, leaky pipes, Pam Howe, a single woman will still be queen of this castle.

On love (Agape)...

It is a well known fact that Valentine's Day is the feast day of St. Valentine, a roman priest martyred for marrying and aiding early Christians. What is less known is whether or not Valentine even existed. More likely he represented a couple of people martyred in the early days of Christianity, not a singular person.

So on this Valentine's Day, I got up early. Like 6:30. I had breakfast to make for that special someone. I put on my makeup, did my hair, I wanted to look my best. Breakfast consisted of scrambled eggs, potatoes, ham, oatmeal, juice, the works. There was even yummy dessert - spiced cake, cupcakes, double chocolate cake.

No matter how you say it.

At exactly 8:00 am the doors opened and in walked that special someone. Or should I say someones. They looked like me and you. There were old ones, young ones, even pregnant ones. Smile on my face, I greeted each one.

Today I was at the soup kitchen downtown, trying to live out the service to others that got Valentine martyred over 1,700 years ago. Today I was trying to experience that Agape that the Greeks talked about. Universal love. Love in something greater then us all.

Today, boyfriends and girlfriends, fiances, married couples, lovers and everything in between will share a card or a box of chocolates in love. Today I shared what I could give in love.

I often wonder, as another friend gets married and starts their family when it will be my turn. And maybe that will never come. I can't serve just one man when there are so many that need me. I have to be the auntie taking nieces to ballet, the daughter helping parents clean the basement (I haven't forgotten, dad), the employee working late, the parishioner teaching students, the best friend there when all else falls apart.

So today, I will get ready for church and go to mass with my family and then out to breakfast and time with friends. Because today is about love.

To all my friends today, I wish you love. If it isn't with that husband, wife, boyfriend or lover remember the Greeks and their many types of love. Remember Valentine, not just one person, but an idea that life can be better. And give that as often as you can.

Because today is about love. But so is tomorrow.

On love (Philia)...

It's Valentine's Day. And I'm single. And no this post is not going where you think it is going.


It is a well known fact that while the English language has only one word for love (Luv and like do not count) the Greeks use four. We have Storge, which is the love I have for my waffles, my bed, Sunday mornings and my worn AQ sweatshirt. There is Eros which I don't have to much contact with by myself unless you want to make some uncomforatable John Mayer/Playboy interview comparisons (John Mayer does come up later.) There is Agape but that's for tomorrow. And then there is Philia or that brotherly love. Philadelphia is called that for a reason.

There he is in all his yummy goodness...

Yesterday I went to John Mayer. (See I told you he comes up again.) Now I am not a HUGE John Mayer fan. I bought the tickets for me to go with another person for Christmas. Who couldn't go cause he was going with someone else. A female someone else.

Burn.

So for six weeks I sat on those damn tickets hoping the situation would resolve itself.



The Palace would burn down.
She would back out on him.
John Mayer would have a breakdown and cancel his tour. (Only half right.)


I found myself last Monday with two tickets and no one who could go. Last thing I wanted to do was sit at a concert listening to John Mayer sing about love when, well, I wasn't with the one I wanted to be with. So Monday found me, with a pair of tickets and me cleaning my room. (Yes, there is a point to me cleaning my room.) Still unpacking boxes, I found a magnet my parents or roommates or someone had given me in the past. It said "But on your big girl panties and deal with it!"

Hm. Wow. Really?

Stop being the victim. You bought the tickets. You put yourself out there. Now you deal with it. No the magnet didn't say all of that to. But that is what it made me think. And then I acted. (This is where the philia thing comes in.)

So I called a friend, a really good girl friend who has been with me through thick and thin. Who also happens to love John Mayer. Friday night we got all dolled up. We went to the concert. Listened to FABULOUS music. I do admit I thought of him (the original recipient of the tickets, not John Mayer.) A couple times. But then I would look at my friend, listen to the music, think about how beautiful I looked and I realized. There really was no one nor no where else in the world I wanted to be at that moment then where I was.

Wearing my big girl panties.

On libraries...

This post will not make much sense at first. See I saw a connection between my thesis and the list of things I want a potential mate to have. Trust me. I'll get there.

A couple days ago, after commiserating with a friend the sorry state of my romantic affairs, she told me to make a list of what I wanted in a relationship. Not in a creepy "Be rich like Tony Stark, do push-ups like Christian Bale in Batman Begins, and have the voice of Sean Connery with a little Gerard Butler randomly thrown in" kind of way. More of a what are you willing to compromise in a relationship. What do you want to get out.

So here is my list:
You love that I care. Yes, you tease me about my outreach at church, that I cry when I see homeless people, that I still give money to people on the street. You think I am naive wanting to save the world. But that I do makes you love me all the more.

We make each other want to be better. We want to do more, feel more, be more in the eyes of our friends, coworkers and family. We will walk taller together.

You want to touch me. And not in a carnal, want to screw you way (at least not all the time), but in a it feels empty when you aren't by me way.

You dream. Obviously at night. But you are always looking bigger. Whether it's our future, your future, your family, my family, you can't sit still. Cause neither can I.

The end.

So last night as I was sitting in the U of M library. By myself. When I could be out at the bar. Having a good time. Instead working on my thesis.

I thought about certain people of my past and what (or who) they were doing. And the lack of what or who I was doing. And then I thought of what I was currently doing again. And I realized, that although I wasn't having the time of my life, I was spending time making my life mean something. My thesis work can actually help organizations...in some small I can make a corner of the world better.

I understand partying...I do it more often then not (Tequila and me aren't currently on speaking terms. I feel he mistreats me, he thinks I should man up more.) But not night after night. Day after day.

Going back to the list. I thought about that and decided, that certain things aren't up for compromise. Even for a moment on a Thursday evening alone in the library.

On addictions...

So I'm trying to quit. It doesn't matter what it is. Just have to do it. What does matter is that I've traded one addiction for another - smoking. It started off as only when I was out drinking, then on breaks with coworkers and now I am aching for one when I get off of work. (BTW Snow Storms + Smoking + Driving = Pam SOL.) Maybe all those years of smoking ads and commercials have finally taken their toll. Because now I think of myself as the coolest thing since sliced bread with a cigarette in my mouth.

Now before you all make those Pam, smoking is bad! comments, got it. I know. My importantly is the addiction. Did I really just jump from one addiction to another? Or am I addicted to....addictions? Is there something sexy about "Just dying if I don't have my starbucks, twinkies, Grey's Anatomy, etc?"

Hmmm....food for thought. I'm going for a smoke.

On deep fried twinkies...

My brother once shared with me that we have beer to thank for the creation of modern civilization and society. The process of brewing beer - having people to farm the hops, people dedicated to brewing vs. hunting/gathering, and safe, non-polluted drinking sources - led to the modern civilization structure as we know it. So what does this have to do with deep fried twinkies, you might be asking?

Well if beer led to the creation of civilization then deep fried twinkies will surely lead to its downfall.

We have an obsession in this country of deep-frying things. Whether it be oreos, ice cream, or even coke (yeah, not sure how that works, but it happened in Texas) we will fry anything. But with child-hood obesity at an all time high, diabetes, heart disease and high blood pressure increasing each year, you got to ask yourself is it too much? Totally. Is it worth it? You bet.

Because inherent in every deep fried treat is an indulgence. A moment of forgetting that you are a twenty, thirty, or forty something office professional giving up carbs and vainly spending 5-10 hours (okay 2-3 hours) at the gym every week. I once spent an entire vacation eating something deep-fried at every meal. No joke. For me, deep-fried food is a chance to be a kid again. Unfortunately it comes with some serious health risks. But that's living isn't it? Besides, if you believe the Mayans the world ends in three years.

So if we are all going to hell in a handbasket, I'll have mine deep-fried.

On New Year's Resolutions...

As 2009 is winding down, I am reflecting on my resolutions from this year. Generally I make a resolution and have forgotten it by February. This year I vowed, would be different. They were as follows-

1. Get my dream job
2. Get my house
3. Fall in love

By February, I was working at the FIM and loving it. By May, I had my house and although it has sometimes been a source of consternation, I love it. By September, I had fallen in love. Successful right? As 2009 progressed, I realized that I had met my resolutions, but I still wasn't happy. Somethings didn't work out (see #3). I was waiting before I took steps - waiting until the time was right to seriously date, to finish my master's, to decorate my house, to get my life in order, etc. I have been waiting for that right time before I did what I should have been doing all along. I thought when the time was right, it would all fall in place and I would be happy. That by waiting, I wouldn't have to deal with pain or failure.

Recently I have realized - the time will never be right. There are people smarter, skinnier, prettier, better organized then me who aren't happy. Why did I think that my life would be better when I was any of those things. I've had to lose some opportunities, had to lose some loved ones before I got it.

Life is too short.

So rather then make a new resolution this year, to make a promise that I will most likely break by February, I just am. Life is not beginning, it is continuing for me. For the first time in a long time, I love me. So here is my statement.

I am not waiting.