Where do these people come from?

Do you ever look at people and wonder about their story? I know I do. I like to imagine that they were the nerd in school, or wonder about how they met their spouse, or where they work.

Sometimes you see people who really spark the imagination; other times there are people who defy it.

Like this woman.

This is Cowpie Pattie. She's a familiar face in my community. I also often refer to her as, "The Crazy Guitar Lady." She stands on corners and in parking lots, holding her homemade cross aloft, strumming her guitar (one handed, so tunelessly) and singing made up songs about Jesus. And sometimes, politics.

I often wonder what happened to turn Pattie into Cowpie Pattie, the Crazy Guitar Lady. I know she has some kind of mental illness, but according to my former-social-worker mother, she wasn't always this crazy.

I'm pretty sure she lives in her car. I could be wrong, but she has an awful lot of stuff packed into that car.

She has several different guitars. The one she's using in this picture (you can't see it) is simple and black. My favorite is her purple Hannah Montana guitar. It really provides an excellent backdrop for her made-up religious songs.

None of that answers my question, though. What happened to her? Was there something traumatic in her childhood? Did she have a severe allergic reaction to heartbreak? Did she lose a loved one? Or is it just the mental illness?

This is actually a picture of Cowpie Pattie's reflection in my rear view mirror. I noticed her in the parking lot, but I couldn't bring myself to actually stop and take her picture, just so I could make fun of her on my blog.

Although, now that I've actually written it, I realize it's not so much making fun of her, as being saddened by the state of her life.

Sorry, Pattie.

To See the Humor, Open Your Eyes

We had another huge flier go out last week. Don't even ask me about that. It was a nightmare, combined with annoying coworkers (okay, coworker) and a heck of a lot of money. Oooh, I'm mad just thinking about it. The point is, it took up almost all of my time last week. I was folding those stupid fliers at home.

These fliers are our main system of advertisement, and we send them to our customers as a bulk mailing through the Post Office. The other day, this came. I can't imagine what they would possibly find wrong with this:

Is it me, or is that just the slightest bit snarky? Look at that finger pointing to nothing. You can practically see "Stupid!" written underneath. Some smart-ass at the USPS thought they were being funny. Lucky for them, I find both smart-assness and irony highly amusing. In fact, I would be interested to know if the person who stamped it saw the irony, or if they just did it because of procedure. If it's the former, I'd like to be their friend. If it's the later, they're seriously missing out.

On an entirely different note, something happened the other day that reaffirmed my decision to move back to Colorado. I knew I made the right decision, and I was so glad to be back home, but I've been restless lately. I was coming down the hill on the way to work and I saw this:

It's not the greatest picture, seeing as how it was still mostly dark and all, but you get the drift. It was the most spectacular sunrise I've ever seen. The sun coming up over the Rockies - that's why I live in Colorado.

It also got me thinking. How often to we miss beauty because we are too wrapped up in ourselves. I came so close to missing this amazing sunrise, because I was busy thinking about my life, my day, my dog, my family . . . me, me, me. Sure, it's just a sunrise, this time. But how many times to we miss the beauty of a child, or one person doing good for another? Do we really notice it? It reminds me of the John Mayer song, "3x5".

Today skies are painted colors of a cowboy's cliche'.
And strange, how clouds that look like mountains in the sky
Are next to mountains anyway.
Didn't have a camera by my side this time
Hoping I could see the world through both my eyes.
Maybe I will tell you all about it
When I'm in the mood to lose my way.
But let me say,
You should have seen that sunrise
With your own eyes.
It brought me back to life.
You'll be with me next time I go outside,
Just no more 3x5's.

Okay, it doesn't apply quite as well as I thought it did, but I still think there's an important message there. Maybe if we open our eyes more, we'll witness more of the beauty around us.

From Me to Me

I had lunch with my BFF (what am I, 13?) Felicia yesterday. We started talking about something we talk about often - how much we hate being adults. This subject always seems to come up when we get together and start talking about our lives, basically meaning our jobs and our bills. This is pretty much how the conversation usually goes:

"I hate being an adult."
"Me too. Being an adult sucks."
"You know how when you're a teenager, you think you're going to have so much freedom as an adult?"
"Yeah."
"That is such bulls***"
"Yep, total crap."
"When you're an adult, you don't have any freedom! You have to work all the time so you can pay bills, and you're still broke!"
"Ugh, bills. I don't want to talk about it. It stresses me out."

That's the generic conversation. This last time, it took the twist of discussing what we would tell ourselves if we could go back in time and talk to ourselves. In the spirit of this conversation, here is what I would say to my 15-year-old self. The responses of "myself" are obviously hypothetical, as I have no way of knowing what "myself" would say.

ME: Hi. I'm you, and I need to talk to you.
MYSELF: Really? How old are you?
ME: Almost 24. Now -
MYSELF: Who did I marry? How many kids do I have.
ME: I don't know. And none, so far.
MYSELF: But -
ME: Will you just listen! I have some things to tell you.
MYSELF: What kind of things?
ME: Okay, you're ready to listen now? Because this stuff is important. Here we go.

Don't be afraid to stand up for yourself. You don't have to put up with people treating you badly.

You are NOT FAT. I know you got picked on for being fat. I know you think you're fat. But you are NOT! But if you keep thinking such bad things about yourself and eating for comfort, you will be.

Be nice to your mother. She loves you, and she'll save your life. Save your money. I cannot stress this enough! Save everything you can.

You'll meet a girl named Josalyn your freshman year of college. Stay away from her. You'll make other friends. Just trust me.

Don't ever let anyone tell you that you aren't worth much. No one has the right to make you feel less than you are.

Don't worry about boys. I know all your friends have boyfriends and I know you're lonely, but trust me. They are more trouble than they are worth.

Did I mention that you should save your money? Oh, and when Mom talks you into getting a credit card for emergencies, ONLY USE IT FOR EMERGENCIES.

Major in something like Business or English Lit, not Recreation Management. It won't be as fun, but will be more rewarding.

Oh, and save your money.

Judging a Book by Its Cover

I was reminded of the truth of an old adage "don't judge a book by its cover" yesterday (that only applies metaphorically, by the way - you can totally judge an acutal book by its cover). There is this man that attends my church, and I have been rather impressed by him since I moved back home. He's a very rough-looking man. His hair is cut short, he has a beard. He had pierced ears and occasionally wears earrings to church. He has several tattoos on his arms; one on each forearm, so they're visible when he is in shirtsleeves. He usually wears a nice suit that fits him well, but it looks unnatural on him. Let's just say that if I didn't know him, I wouldn't want to meet him in a dark alley.

Here's where the lesson comes in: This is one of the most gentle, loving men I have ever met. He's married and has four kids, only one of which is his. The older kids use his name, even though they haven't been legally adopted. No one knows where their dad is, so he can't relinquish parental rights. I have seen this scary-looking man play with his wife's hair and stroke her cheek during meetings. I've seen him cuddle his 10 year old daughter on his lap. I've seen him drop her off and activity with a hug and several kisses. The entire family is at church every Sunday, and if I didn't know that the older kids weren't his, I would never guess.

The moral of this story? If the "book" is a person, don't judge it by the cover. You never know what goodness is living inside the pages.

A Change of Plan

Life doesn't always go according to plan. This is a tidbit of wisdom that I have gathered over the last few years. In fact, life rarely goes according to plan. I don't know why that is, I just know it's true. Sometimes the things that are most important to us are the things that we have the least control over
It can be anything; this change. Maybe you were convinced you would fall desperatly in love in college and life would be perfect. Instead, you have a degree, but have yet to find any men of consequence. Or maybe someone you loved and lost returned to your life years later. That's the thing - these changes in plan aren't always for the worst.
Plans aren't the only things that change. It has often been said that people can't change. Let me tell you a secret: that's not true. It's an excuse for all the people in the world who don't want to change. But people do change, and it can be a beautiful thing. A father who struggles to be supportive can become a tender and loving parent. I swear it can happen. I've seen it.
I know why we make plans. We are afraid of the unknown - the "what ifs" can drive a person mad. I don't know why life doesn't go according to those plans. But I do know that life has a way of workings itself out for the best. The key is to find joy in the unknown.

Knights and Damsels

In the days of fairies, socercy and the basic fight against good and evil, things were more simple. The damsel, hidden away in her tower, bound by magic and guarded by a dragon, would await the knight in shining armor that destiny required would rescue her. She whiled away her hours, doing whatever is it that damsels do, and dreamed of her rescuer, and her freedom. This is not to say that the damsel is helpless. The phrase is "damsel in distress," not "hopelessly helpless damsel." She probably fought tooth and nail against going up in that tower. There was probably some shin-kicking, sratching, and definitly some name-calling. The bad guy probably came out of that struggle with some battle wounds. But there are some things that a damsel, no matter how fierce, just can't stand against. Maybe he threatened the people she loved. Maybe he bribed her with chocolate and accesories. Whatever happened, the damsel ended up stuck in some stupid tower, awaiting rescue from a hero that would inevitably show up.
And rescue would come. It may have come in the form of a knight in shining armor who slew the dragon with one fierce blow and managed not to get a drop of blood on his armor; or a peasant who outwitted the dragon and fought his way, tooth and nail to get to the woman who needed him. Whomever the savior, he needed no encouragement to save the damsel. He thought not of the dangers, the risk of failure. He only needed to know that there was a damsel who needed him, and he knew that saving her would be worth the risk. And in the end, love conquored all.

Today, in the days of business deals, politics and trans-atlantic flights, things seem so different. There are no towers in which to hide away innocent maidens. There is no evil socerer who simply wants to deprive others from happiness. No spells are cast. Perhaps the lore of the damsel and her knight have been cast aside; but they have not been forgotten. The desire to be rescued and protected lies in every woman - the desire to rescue lies in every man. The setting has just changed.
There is no socerer to cast the damsel into her tower. She either builds it for herself, or life builds it for her. Fear of failure, broken hearts, female competition - it all builds around her, brick by brick. She's a competant woman, she can get a degree, have a career, make a five-year-plan, but she can't completely control the world around her; she can't control others. And so, unwittingly, she locks the deepest, most sincere parts of herself into a fortress, guarded not by a dragon but by cynism. And she waits. Day by day, she pushes aside the loneliness, goes about her life, and waits for her knight.
The difference between the knights of old and the men of today may seem simple. It seems that the knights were invincible. But just because you never hear the stories about when the dragon ripped the knight's entrails out, it doesn't mean that it never happened. In fact, the difference is simple. The knights were simply willing to take the risk.
Granted, the men of today fight a different battle. Knights fought dragons controlled by socercy; the modern man faces a fortress of the damsel's own design. She knows it's weaknesses, surely, but she will not reveal them until the knight has proven worthy. It's a fierce battle, one with many casualties. Understandably, the men of today question whether the risk of this quest is worth the reward. What if the damsel turns out to be a real shrew?
And so the damsel waits, fierce on the outside, but trapped on the inside. She waits for her knight in shining armor, her peasant boy, the one man who can break through her cynicism and unlock her prison. Take pity on the modern men of this world. For unlike the knights, there is no map to lead the way, no years of training. There is simply the hope that the reward is worth the risk; assurance that true love still conquors all.

Some things are everpresent

I've been noticing increasingly lately that life never seems to hold still. There are those few glorious moments that you want to hold onto forever, to live the rest of your days in. But it never quite works like that, does it? Too soon those moments pass, and we're thrust into the moments that we must endure to get to the treasured ones.

Was it FDR that said, "There is nothing to fear but fear itself"? It makes me wonder if he was ever afraid of anything. Lately it seems that I'm afraid of everything. I hate the near overwhelming fear - it makes me feel weak. Those who love me tell me I'm brave and strong, but it's hard to believe at times like this. I hate not knowing where my life is headed.

On to more interesting topics. Am I the only one who's love life seems to be a constant display of irony? For a while, I enjoyed a lack of love life, which really just translates to a lack of interest. Now it seems that I'm bombarded with unwanted events. In order to really explain, I guess I'll have to introduce you to the two of them: The American One, who I want so much it confuses me, but who shows annoyingly little interest in wanting me back; and The German One, who started out as a pen pal and now has evolved into more of a . . . situation.

The German One and I "met" through a mutal friend who spent some time in Germany. When The German One wanted to email me, I thought, "What the heck? He's in Germany." Oh, how little I knew. He's still in Germany, but is now convinced that I'm the greatest girl in the world. He's such a nice guy, I hate to tell him otherwise. He sent me a Christmas package. Strategically placed on top was a red plush heart with "I love you" written on it. And he doesn't even know me!

On the other hand, The American One knows me better than most and still shows no interest. I try not to take it personally, but I'll admit it's frustrating. The German One hasn't even met me and realizes how amazing I am. The American One has me right in front of him and fails to see me. Oh, the ironies of love!