Dear Diary

Yesterday was the kind of day that almost makes me wish I kept a diary. I do write in a journal from time to time, but it's mostly filled with emotional and mental angst. Like the rest of my life.

But anyway, the day was kind of cool. I went out to the Highland Games up in Ligonier. What's not to love about a place and event so filled with people who share my deep and abiding affinity for all things Scottish? To quote a tee I saw several times throughout the day, "If it's nae Scottish, it's crap!"

I've never heard so much bagpiping in one day. I can still hear it in the back of my head, "Scotland the Brave," just like the ocean after a day at the beach. It was awesome! Also, it was gratifying to see so many guys wearing kilts. I loves the kilts! (Picture by Victornado, on Flickr)

We got to watch cabertossing and a rugby match. Both fun.

Also, I tried new things. On the tame end of the spectrum, I had some British candy. On the wilder, more adventurous end (but not really), I sampled whisky and tried es cargot. (We ended up at this restaurant called The Road Toad....the name is deceptive. It was actually kind of fancy. So much so that the prices didn't have dollar signs, and they wouldn't let us split the check.)

If you’re wondering what the verdict on my new experiences is, I’ll oblige: the whisky was strong and burned going down, but it felt good on my throat, which had been (and is still) scratchy, like I’m coming down with something. (Ugh! I hate getting sick.) The es cargot was actually pretty good…not something I would eat on a regular basis, but I’m glad I tried it.

And sometimes you just need to take a day like that and live life to the hilt, even if the next day you sleep in late and do nothing because you’re exhausted and getting sick. So I’m glad my Saturday was amazing and fun, and I wish everyone a Highland day once in a while.

Singleness

This morning I went to church with my parents. Usually I go on Saturday nights, to Community Worship at Memorial Park. But my dad recently got a job at North park Church, and they wanted to introduce him to the congregation. And he wanted the family to be there. No problem. My brother Kyle and I showed up (thankfully) right on time and took a seat. I was looking kinda cute—at least, I was wearing a blouse, skirt and heels, which is a bit of a stretch for a jeans-and-tee girl like me.

So they go through the announcements and a testimony and a couple of songs and finally ask my parents to go to the front. My dad says he was nervous, but it didn’t show. He was cracking jokes and keeping everyone’s attention. And then he decided to introduce us, his “adult children.” Kyle and I politely stood to say hi to everyone. And then he said it: “And they’re both single.” I sat down immediately. The congregation erupted into laughter.

It’s not that I minded or that I was even mad; it’s more of the label that bothers me. “Single.” Alone. Unpaired. Yeah, okay, so I’m single. Really single.

And if you know me, or if you have read my profile, you know that I’m twenty-six. Twenty-six and single. Is that as depressing as it sounds? I have other friends from college in the same boat. Even a couple that are still living at home, like me. (If you read my earlier posts about jobs it should be abundantly clear that I do not make enough to afford rent and other utilities.)

Most of the time I don’t mind being single. I’ve lived with it for a long time. I like my independence. But I happen to be an incurable romantic. If you look at my favorite movies list, you’ll see a few chick flicks in there. I have more. I am a SAP. When I watch movie and TV shows, I hope that the main characters fall in love and find happiness by then end. I’m a “shipper:” I root for certain couples to get and/or stay together. (Sidebar: some of my favorites include: Sydney and Vaughn from Alias; Bright and Hannah from Everwood; Sun and Jin from Lost; Harry and Ginny, and Ron and Hermione from Harry Potter; and Han and Leia from Star Wars.)

The Point: My Independence and my Hopeless Romantic-ness are quite often at odd with each other. Yes, I’d like to find someone and settle down. Yes, I’d like to get married and have a few kids someday. But I’m afraid I have too many unrealistic expectations planted in my head by my favorite sappy movies. I’m also afraid that some of the standards and things I’m looking for in a guy just aren’t ever going to come together. Deep down I think I do believe that there is a guy out there suited for me just as I am for him, whether or not he happens to be a Scottish, guitar-playing, intellectual, funny, adventurous Christian man. But some days it just seems like I’ll be stuck being labeled “single” forever. It wouldn’t be the worst thing that could happen to me, but it’s not what I’m hoping for.

But don’t you dare recommend E-harmony to me.