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Have you ever considered yourself a lucky person? Now I don't believe in luck but I seem to be a good luck charm to others. My roommates to be exact. It is a well know fact that every girl I have ever lived with has gotten married. Most of them met their husbands while living with me. My coworker jokes that I could have my own show on Bravo. "Want to get married? Live with this lucky woman for a few months and bam! You'll find the man of your dreams." I used to say something was in the water that apparently I was not drinking but now I realize that it wasn't the water, it's me!
All this was brought about by the fact that my last roommate just got engaged. We lived together for only 5 months but I told her the first week after we moved in that she would most likely find her husband while living with me. Oh, how true I was!
Usually when I tell people about this they will either ask if they can be my roommate or they will tell me I should go live alone and then maybe I'll rub off on myself. That doesn't really make sense to me and I don't like living alone. As an only child I spent way too much time alone. Quiet housing scare me as I don't have roommates to claim the creaky noises in the night or to wake up if there is an intruder since I am a very deep sleeper. Yea, I don't think living alone is my thing.
Although, when I think about it, all of my friends are married whether they were my roommate or not. I believe that I attract people who are in that stage of life. Men and women who are more mature and ready for that next stage of life. Most of my friends we're married by age 23. In a span of two years I was a bridesmaid 6 times! One day this tradition will end and it will be my turn but until then I need to find a dress to wear to another wedding!!
Saturday is my favorite day of the week. I love sleeping in, going to the farmer's market for organic veggies, tuberoses and tamales. Most of all I love being able to take my time before rushing out the door. I get to take my time making my favorite meal of the day, breakfast.
Making pancakes from scratch with blueberries and/or bananas, fresh coffee and music playing is my ideal morning. This last Saturday started out well as it was the first morning in a long time that I have been able to do my little routine. I am in a new apartment with new roommates who seem to be up at 6 am even on Saturday and have already had breakfast and rearranged the furniture. Did I mention I am not a morning person? So then it was breakfast for one. I have been used to making breakfast for my family and prior roommates I was a little stumped on how to do it for just one person.
Coffee first though, I need a clear head for measuring and mixing things. That took awhile due to the fact that I was using my roommates coffee pot where it grinds the beans for you. Well, with all its fancy features I forgot about a coffee filter! After the brewing had stopped I nervously looked inside. A three day old filter and grounds along with my new ones peered back at me. I wonder how much mold was on that grounds? Well, attempt two and I finally have it figured out. Oh, it smells so good! Next I looked at the smallest quantity on the pancake recipe. 11-12 pancakes!! I can usually only eat two and there is no way to half the recipe without halfing an egg and I couldn't see that really working out. Must I use the "just add water" mix because I'm cooking for one? Once you've had from scratch pancakes you just can't go back to that.
My bittersweet blueberry pancakes and coffee
Well I refused and ended up with a huge bowl of leftover batter. Seems like a silly thing but all that left over batter represents the family I don't have. The husband and kids I would love to be able to cook for. I see all my friends with husbands and babies on the way and I am here alone on Saturday morning with my excess pancake batter. I am ridiculous I know. I hate Saturday mornings.
I found out some very sad news today. Yesterday a family friend passed away after a year long battle with stomach cancer. Carol was only 57 years old and was the mother of one of my high school friends. I lost contact with them when they relocated to the east coast but Carol was not an easy women to forget. She was one of the strongest women I know. A lawyer, fierce but gentle, a wonderful mother and she loved the Lord. She is the type of woman I aspire to be. Through out high school their beautiful home was always the setting for youth groups BBQs and pool parties even after her daughter Christine graduated.
Carol was truly a beautiful woman of God and my heart breaks for her family. Her daughter Christine was just married a few months ago and praise God Carol was able to stop the chemo and be well enough to enjoy that special day. Her husband has been madly in love with her since the very beginning and his love did not fade with time. How could you not love such an amazing woman.
Carol was a blogger herself. She chronicled her journey over the last year. I began to read it today but was so overwhelmed I couldn't continue. She and her family were so faithful and trusting in the Lord through out this whole terrible process.
My heart broke when I heard of her passing but I thank God that she has gone on to be with Him and is no longer in pain and suffering. The thought of my own mother going through something like that makes me feel sick all over. It is so hard to understand why these tragedies happen. Our world is filled with such filth and cancer has been a horrible side-effect.
I am lifting up her family in prayer and hope for comfort during this time of great loss.
Carol, you have been an inspiration to many and will be greatly missed.
If you wish to read her blog here is the link.
http://carolmarshall.blogspot.com/
I used to live in a cute small town. This small town is my favorite place in the world and I frequently go there for weekend visits to escape the big city. I had to move away to get a job and do something with my life as I watched all my friends get married. I cherish those weekend trips since all my nearest and dearest friends still live in that small town and being there brings peace to my spirit, which gets overwhelmed with the smog, traffic and dirt of the city. If I could get a job in what I love, which is music, I would move back in a New York minute.
There are some drawbacks to being in a small town. I tell my close friends who beg me to move back to our beautiful little town that the only way I will move back is if there is an amazing job or an amazing man. Since I want to raise a family in this town the amazing man part would be ideal. Well, my dear friend who I call Love has found a man she would like me to meet. He is a Christian (check that major feature off my list), a photographer (I love creative men) and just the right age and level headed too. She sent me photos of him as well as his photography and my interest peaked even more. He was cute and had an amazing talent. If he plays guitar or piano I will have to marry him. But the story does not end here. Attempts to get us to meet have failed.
Oh but there is more. I have another dear friend, Francesca. She and Love are the only two I have trusted with this secret blog. Francesca and I actually decided together what her secret name would be. It comes from a fun day of wine tasting and a winery I will never ever go to again. Francesca has been trusted with this blog because she is going through the same stage of life as I am. She is my one and only single friend and without her to share and understand I don’t know what I would do. We seem to have the same problems and are mirroring each other in so many ways.
So, back to our original story of being set up with a small town guy. Francesca is a youth director at the church I attended when I lived in the small town. This past weekend one of the high school girls approached Francesca and told her that they had a great Christian guy to fix her up with. As she told me, you know you are desperate when this proposition from a 17-year-old girl actually interests you. The girl went on to say that she had this Christian guy who was a photographer, 27 years old… do you see where this is going? It was the very same guy Love has been trying to fix me up with! Only to Francesca and I would something like this happen and two different matchmakers would set us up with the same man. All we could do was laugh but we knew that there has to be a shortage of good Christian men.
I quickly told Love that she better get working on this set up before a high school girl beat her to it. Even if it doesn’t work out with the photographer and myself, there is a cute blond named Francesca he just might like.
About me.
Have you played that amazing (insert sarcasm here) game of telling your most embarrassing moment? Of course you have. Everyone has been asked what their most embarrassing moment was as some sort of method to break the ice in a group setting. I always had trouble coming up with a good story to tell. I tend to live my life trying to avoid those incredibly embarrassing moments because they affect me so greatly. Reliving that moment consumes me for weeks after the event so I try to avoid them at all cost. The story I always told was giving a science presentation in Jr. High with my fly down. I have no idea if anyone noticed but I was still mortified for days. Oh and there was the one time an obnoxious customer told a guy friend who happened to stroll into the store that I wanted him to stick around and talk to him because he was cute. He was VERY cute and yes I did want him to stick around. My face might still be a little red from that moment…
All this to say that I do not have a most embarrassing moment, I have a most embarrassing fact about me. Something my closest friends and small group ladies know but that is it. Here it goes, I am 25 years old and I have never had a boyfriend. Never been kissed, never held hands, never had a boy put his arm around me. All this was a fact that I have been quite proud of actually only the older I got the less normal this fact was and the less proud I was to share it. I have this dream that all those things will be saved for my husband. It would be so amazing to me to be able not only “save” myself for marriage but save everything for the man I am going to spend the rest of my life with. This does not mean that I do not daily wish to be held and kissed, to cuddle on the couch with someone. It seems though that it is out of my control. No matter how much I want it something stronger than me is preventing those desires from becoming a reality. I am sort of the real life Drew Barrymore in Never Been Kissed only I wasn’t the school dork or reject. I'm still waiting though for my moment when Michael Vartan runs down the stadium stairs straight to me and kisses me for my very first kiss. I don’t have something weird about me that scares away boys. I am not hideous physically or personality wise. Through out college I had guy friends ask me out all the time only they were usually the last guy in our group I would want to date. Great friends but not boyfriend material. I did give some of those unlikely guys a chance but it never worked out. I can count on one hand how many dates I have been on in my life. It always seemed like God stepped in and said “Nope, not for you. Remember your decision?”
Now why is God asking me to remember my decision? Because my senior year of high school I liked a boy. This boy had made the decision to only date the woman he was going to marry. When I heard that fact about him a light went off in my head. That sounded like a really good plan to me. How cool would it be to have shared every first with your husband? Well, this was all a great plan when I was 17 but now I’m 25 and I did not think that I would have to wait this long. Now it’s just getting weird and I no longer want to tell people and when I do I feel like I am sharing the most embarrassing story of my life. Do people wonder what it is about me that has kept me single all this time? My close friends who know everything have one response to my lifelong singleness, “I just don’t get it.” They don’t understand why I’m not asked out all the time or why I do not have a boyfriend. Even coworkers who have been in my life for two years are starting to ask. Extended family too. Those who are not aware that I have never had a boyfriend but are starting to wonder why they haven’t heard about any guys in my life.
Nothing will ever beat the cake with the moment my grandmother told me that she and my mom had begun to wonder if I liked boys at all. Ahhh!! My grand mother thinks I’m a lesbian!! I quickly reassured her that I do like boys, quite a lot actually but don’t really like sharing my constant rejection with my mother or grandmother. I am actually fearing that my extended step family is starting to wonder the same thing. At the last family event I was asked when I was going to bring a boy around. I told them I just didn’t meet that many guys. My step-dad quickly interjected that I scare all the boys at work away with my Christian faith joking that I kept a bible on my desk. He told me later he said that because he didn’t want them all to think that there was something wrong with me. Is there something wrong with me? Or is God just making sure I uphold my end of the deal? Alright God. I will uphold my end but You better bring me a good one.
A blog. About being single. I’m sure this has been done before. Actually, I know there is a woman who is having her own book published from her blog on finding love (or lack there of). The reasons I’m doing this are not to get readers or gain notoriety. I am doing this as a form of therapy, to get my emotions and experiences out onto cyber paper. Some experiences are funny, some tragic and some insignificant but to me a mountainous issue. I was inspired to do this by a very good friend. She herself started a secret blog that most of her friends and family were not aware of. I was one of the privileged few that she knew and was willing to share this new blog with. Her collection of writings on motherhood, marriage and overall life are brutally honest and cherished by her cyber blogging friends. They feel comfort in sharing in each other’s stories, being able to relate to someone who is going through the similar things they are. Her first purpose is therapy writing and the second is the fellowship of mommy bloggers. As she woes and rejoices about life and motherhood and balancing everything I woe to her about being single and not meeting anyone. She encouraged me to try blogging, secret blogging actually. A new account, a different name, and I now have myself my own secret blog. So, my name is not Kaydence Mesy. It is my alias so that I can feel completely free to write and post anything without having to filter it. Along with that names will be changed to protect the identity of the people in my stories. All this to be able to freely share what’s on my mind and heart. Or maybe its just that I used to want to be a spy and I have always wanted and alias ;)
