Last night I ran into a girl who hates me. I saw her out of the corner of my eye at the high school play and later stole a few glances. As predicted from past experience, she was no where to be seen when the lights came on. She wouldn't want the risk of actually having to make contact should our exit paths funnel us anywhere near one another.

Seven years ago I made the wrong person mad at me. She (I'll call her Carla) was a charismatic leader in the schools (yes we are talking PTA moms here) who raised a small army against me, the girl at the play being one of her loyal foot soldiers. It feels really crappy to have people intensely dislike you. I can deal with a mild aversion or two. I am not arrogant enough to think everyone thinks I hung the moon but most of the people in that lynch mob wanted to see me beaten down, publicly humiliated and impeached from my PTA job.

At the time of the turmoil, I went to the girl at the play and tried to explain my side of the story. At first she seemed willing to listen given that we went to the same church. I told her how important it was to have reconciliation between the two of us. In the end, her desire for friendship and affirmation from Carla won out. By the way, I tried to reconcile with Carla as well but that didn't go so well either.

For years I looked for her in the halls of church, hoping for a change of heart and a second chance. I periodically checked her mailbox to make sure her family still attended but she eventually left. She never came to a single social event which would undoubtedly have caused her to run into me. I spend a lot of time at church. Not because I am trying to win points with God, I work there so I attend most extra events. It all made me feel sick inside.

In fact it makes me feel sick to write about it, dredging up those painful memories and causing me to wonder about all the things I should have done differently. I hate the fact that she smugly thinks she knows a dark evil side of me that others don't know. I hate that she never gave me the benefit of the doubt and chose to side with a very disturbing individual. I have been called many things but never disturbing.

The only thing I can do is try harder the next time. I certainly didn't do everything right back then but I wasn't the villain they portrayed me to be. So for now I live in a community where a very few people still turn and whisper when I walk by. Its only a few but for me, its a few too many.

love me,

Caroline

Wanting to fit in with the audience, I wore my tiara last night while I watched the academy awards. Usually I feel like I am from another planet when I watch the celebs float down the red carpet and into their seats. There exists a social juxtaposition as my life is so completely different from theirs and yet because of their media presence, I can feel like their best friend.

So wearing my glittering headpiece made me feel like I had received an invitation but chose to watch from home because of other obligations.

I loved the show. Of course with Hugh Jackman dancing about and flashing his gorgeous smile all night, who could resist being captured by the glamour. Last night's 81'st Academy Award show brought back elegance and refinement sadly missing from much of today's entertainment world. Oh, the fashion tries to keep these qualities in tact but the glib actions of the presenters and the impudent political speeches of some of the winners seems to tug the ambience of the event further downward each year.

This year was different. Fewer speeches. No embarrassing jokes that I can recall. The musical performances showed a throw back to the old days where class, not shock value was the mark the producers were aiming for. My favorite thing was how they presented the major awards to the best's and the supporting's. Bringing back past winners, giving them personal, well written glowing remarks to direct to each of the nominees brought a new level of pageantry to the evening. Nostalgia always touches my heart and gives me goose bumps.

I hope they have already penned the contract with Hugh for next year.

Caroline

I get jazzed about teaching. I just started a new role which isn't traditional teaching. Its more like mentoring with an emphasis on teaching. I meet with a young girl who just found out Jesus is a little more relational than her Our Father prayers from the past led her to believe.

She is excited to learn about God and why the heck he even cares about the things in our daily lives. Most puzzling to her and I is the fact that when he looks down on us from his mansion in the sky he doesn't see all the crap we have done, all the bad stuff I have thought over the years. If he is all knowing and omnipresent, he must know of it yet because of Jesus, has chosen to put on special 3-D glasses that hide it all when he views us.

Seems too good to be true. I guess since he created us for relationship and we screwed it up, Jesus was his "plan B". Of course if he is all knowing, he knew we would screw it up so Jesus is probably "plan A", disguised as "plan B" in order to draw attention to the mercy and grace factor.

This stuff sometimes makes my brain hurt.

Peace out, Caroline

Ever since I moved to this city I have longed to live in a certain suburb. Its small,has beautifully landscaped yards and looks like it was dropped in its entirety directly from Great Britain. I will never live there. I walk there, have friends I visit there, my favorite movie house is there along with one of my favorite restaurants but alas, I will never have that zip code on my home address.

My husband doesn't understand the dream of a cool house in a cool neighborhood. He is way to practical to think about living somewhere just for the ambience. He's a good man though so I can't be mad because he doesn't share all my dreams.

One place we probably both muse about is life on the ocean. I imagine living on the water, feeling the ocean breeze daily, smelling fish fumes whenever the wind changes and watching glorious storms roll over the water towards us. Now that is a dream I am holding on to. It will probably never happen for more than a week or two at a time but I will still hold out hope that someday my street name will contain some form of the words water or shell.

I have a personal trainer. Not in the traditional sense but have one just the same. A friend of mine runs marathons. She is one of those high energy tiny girls who you know has never fought the battle of the bulge a single day of her life. Great God-given genes and always looks great in them!

So out of the goodness of her heart she offered to meet me once a week and walk, not run, with me for an hour or so. The first day out it was 16 stinkin degrees but we went anyway. Weeks 2 and 3 were snow catastrophes so I stayed home and did the elliptical machine. But week 4 we were right back out there.3 miles! For an out of shape overweight middle ager like me, thats pretty good.

My fitness partner claims this is a mutual enterprise. She graciously claims I will stimulate her brain on a myriad of topics. I am flattered and I am going with it because I need all the help I can to get myself moving.

So when someone close to you is in tremendous pain or angst you, unfortunately, can't help but be absorbed into it too. At least that is the way my relationships play out. I am often found musing why God created us to be relational and yet knowing it sucks big time when things are in a scary place. He knows He made us this way and I know it but it doesn't make it any easier. Sometimes I cry out and challenge His reasoning for giving us all these damned emotions. Unfortunately I am too emotional at the time to hear the answer.

Today at work I shared some of my personal struggles. I felt like I was in the spotlight and all my friends around me were squinting from the bright light beating down on me. The light made them just as uncomfortable as it did me but in a completely different way. Focussing on other's troubles can temporarily cause you to forget your own but later the new level of transparency changes things.

A scab is hard and crusty for a reason. It protects. Pick it off and the wound seeps its puss all over. Opening up to others can feel like newly exposed flesh wounds. I know it has benefits but the pain can seem unbearable.

Caroline

I have a very cool friend named Liz. She is a writer, biker, wildlife enthusiast and many more things I have yet to discover. She has a beautifully written BLOG of her own which I just now happened upon. Writer's like good writing. Writer's also are great encouragers to other writer's. None of this ... if she writes a break-out novel, no one will ever read me again attitude ... exists among the writers I know. I love that about the writing world.

So Liz says, get back on your Blog and write! So I will.