A Discovery

It is hard to feel like a proper theology student when it didn't even occur to you to bring your BIBLE to the first day of classes, and you have Justin Timberlake's "Sexy/Back" stuck in your head throughout the whole day.

Secret Books

I have a secret drawer in the nightstand by my bed. There are things within it that no proper English major should have. This is where I keep my secret books.

When you've spent your college career reading the great classics of English literature, you aren't supposed to read the stuff Dr. Phil writes. One can't pick up Candace Bushnell when she is sitting next to the Brontes and the Brownings. It seems impossible to place a two hundred and thirty page novel about a fashion crises on your bookshelf next to War and Peace. You can't have Weisberger next to Wordswoth. This is when the secret book drawer becomes a necessity.

It started with a Dr. Laura book that I really wanted to read but couldn't imagine the mockery that would follow or the uncomfortable conversations with feminist friends as to why I owned a book that mentioned feeding husbands. Then my friend gave me a book I didn't want my sisters to read and the collection grew.

It has become a handy tool since, gradually amassing a diverse and strange collection. Someday I imagine this is where I will keep my complete collection of Rodgers and Hammerstien musicals and Sex and the City trivia.

And this brings me to another topic. If the whole point of this drawer was secrecy, then why am I writing about it on the internet? I was going to go somewhere with this question, but I don't have an answer, so I am going to get back to singing along with The Sound of Music.

An Old Friend

Today Adam of Landsberg Co. brought me crayons. If this is a hint that our relationship should be fun and light, then I agree. But Adam, it is too early to talk about kids right now.

Rambling Thoughts from a Long Week

At night I sit at my desk in the dark to write, but always have my laptop on my lap. Why, I often wonder, do I bother sitting at my desk?

I have been hanging with my nearly retired boss a lot lately, including a standing Wednesday night date in which all the girls from work go down to her place in at the Laguna Woods retirement community to watch Project Runway, eat pizza, spend the night and arrive late to work the next morning. Today we drove down to meet her at the pool. Laguna Woods is fiercely guarded by its volunteer security guards, and today I was met at the gate by a little old man in a tidy blue uniform. “What’s your name, young lady?” He asked as I rolled down my window. “I’m Cate,” I answered, knowing my name had been put on an entrance list that afternoon. “I’ve got a Catie. You her, Catie?” “Well, yes I guess so.” “Well, I’ve got to ask you now, are you a lady Catie? Is your past a little shady?” To which I answered, “Umm, uh I…” “Have a nice day, Catie”. This (and all the tidy landscaping) is one of the reasons I like hanging out in retirement communities.

I am really glad we have dogs at our house and I’ll tell you why. I don’t like the attitude of too many that says you must wait until you get married to settle into your home, get furniture and start a life. Too many people are waiting around for that undeniably momentous, but sometimes elusive occasion. Knowing I wanted to be someone who was in no rush to make such a life altering decision as connecting yourself to one person forever, I decided that my home here is as important as any I will someday make with a husband (if I do). I am glad my roommates seem to feel that way too, and we are perfectly happy to do such thing as buy dishes, couches and pets. Our dogs make our already tight little house a little more connected, a little more like home. Us girls may not have husbands or kids to look after, but we are doing pretty damn well at keeping us and our little furry friends happy and fed. Way to go, girls.

I really, really like my job. I did not see this coming.

Elves cleaned our house while we were all at work yesterday. I have rarely been so surprised and appreciative. They even left flowers and a note for us when we dragged our tired selves back home in the evening. Despite the note it took us all at least five minutes to realize that in fact none of us had cleaned and yet the house was spotless. Thank you, Elves, you are amazing friends.