to find beauty

first phone calls

I freaked out.

After dozens of past pseudo relationships where I spent months in emailing/online chatting limboland in hopes of going to the next level: real life, phone-callin', making-plans-to-see-each-other, I-can-poke-him-in-the-arm-and-he-can-really-feel-it stuff... you'd think I'd be more ready for this when it actually happened.

This guy was totally pursuing me. He wanted to talk to me. On the phone. Voice to voice.

I freaked out. I read his email before going into work on June 25th. So, as soon as I sit down at my desk that same morning, I turn to my co-worker and very dear gal pal Melanie, and I blurt it all out to her. I tell her he asked to call me.

I am over-the-top, ridiculous. It was like 6th grade all over again when Bobby Shepherd, the classic boy next door (who was in love me since 4th grade), called and asked if he could walk me to school. 

This is big deal stuff! 

Melanie just looks at me and smiles with that terrible knowing smile she can pull off so well. "Cori," she says, "Isn't this all good? Isn't this what you wanted?"

I look at her, and I am reminded of a conversation I had with her about a year before, where we sat at the outdoor seating of McCool's Pub for our lunch hour and I told her, flat out, I'd never, ever meet someone who would ever want to pursue me. (I believe this was around the time of Eharmony Guy #2. My self-worth was really low.) And she said to be patient.

I was also reminded of the encouraging words I read almost every day, pinned to the corkboard above my desk at home (which I also wrote about here):

the Lord wants you to be pursued and treasured by any man you date. You are a beautiful treasure, to be discovered and honored.

"Mel," I plead. "That isn't the point. Yes, it's what I want, but this is all so much. He's actually pursuing me! It feels like I am back on the zip lines in the jungle of Nicaragua and I am scared to death and I know I need to let go so I can enjoy it all... but I can't. Why is this so hard?"

I continued to stew in anxiety at my desk, somehow getting work done. Dave had already begun text messaging (the "technical" step before phone calls), and is being his normal wonderful self. Me: basketcase trying to play it cool. (I am sure if he wrote his side of all of this, he was pretty nervous too.) I know he's waiting for me to tell him when he can call. But I stay silent.

I step away from my desk -- not sure why, probably to do work since that's what I am actually paid to do when I am at work -- and when I return to my desk, I notice I have missed a call.

He called.

At 12:18pm he called and left a voicemail. He called before I told him it was okay. His voice was on my phone, for me to listen to and evaluate to no end.  I turned to Mel. 

"He called. What do I do now?" I sorta squeaked this out, as I began pacing around the office.

I can't remember what she said. (Probably something wise.) I went downstairs to the reception area where Val, my Dating Mentor, works. (Every single gal needs a Dating Mentor. I am blessed to have Val, who also happens to head up the pre-marital mentoring at the church.)

"Cori," she begins. "Calm down. This is what you need to do. Text him back and tell him you are happy he called- because you are. Confirm he did an okay thing in calling. And then suggest a time for you (or him) to call back. You can do it."

I like her suggestion a lot. Even though he called before I said it was okay, really, I liked his intiative. It showed me he could make decisions on his own, and he could take charge. But his message said something about ME calling him back. Me, who at age 28, still avoided calling men on the phone because my mom always said it was an improper thing for Christian ladies to do. But, I am thinking its okay to call him since he suggested it.

We made plans via text messaging for me to call him after I got off work.

And I did. And it wasn't scary. Okay, my finger floated over the send button for about 3 minutes before I could press it. But, really, I was pretty darn calm. We talked about the upcoming "meeting" our mutual friends had planned at sushi restaurant in downtown Portland. He reassured me that a story I told him earlier in our emails about playing with fish guts as a child (hmm, go with me here) was awesome and that I wasn't a freak. We discussed whether we drank alcohol. (Y'know, very important stuff.) He had a great voice, and he said things like, "it was off the hook."  

It was really nice.

The next time we talked on the phone, a couple days later, I was sitting in the Emergency Room at Providence. I had just taken my good friend Joy in because she was really sick, and things were scary and no one knew what was going with her. She is doing better now, fyi, even if doctors don't know what's going on yet. Ironically, Dave still hasn't met her, she reminds me of this fact often.

He called when I was sitting on the floor in a hallway (to get away from the loudness of the ER. When I told him where I was, he asked if he could pray for my friend... and for me.

I melted. He was wonderful. Guys did this? I mean, I knew he was a pastor (that was his job, his calling in life), but this was all so new to me. He cared. He was kind. He prayed for my friend, who I was so scared for, and somehow, while sitting on the hospital floor, the guard I had around my heart began to chip away.

So, I am getting a little nervous writing all this out, since I am learning quite a few friendly spies have been reading up on my new dating adventures. (I think that's the point of blogs anyways!) Dave has ressured me he likes my posts, so I shall continue even if I am blushing profusely and constantly!

flotsametrics (i think its an awesome word)

Okay.

I know this post is not the promised, to-be-continued post about Dave (who, if you haven't already noticed, is now my official boyfriend thanks to the social networking powers of Facebook statuses), and I might get poked (verbally and physically) that it isn't... But I really wanted to share briefly about my new fascination with oceanography.

Really.

I like to try new things, and I've gone on and on (in real life, usually in defense of Twitter) about how I follow Powell's Bookstore on twitter so I can go to interesting events all the time (hmm). The beauty of following Powell's Bookstore is that they post upcoming book readings for those who enjoy feeling cultured, like learning new things, and meeting authors. (Having a signed copy of a book makes me feel special.) This morning I spied this tweet:

Powells "Flotsametrics" tonight, 7:30 at Burnside. Expect lots of 'crazy crap found in the ocean' stories.

I know this may surprise some friends of mine, but I immediately decided upon reading the tweet that I had to go. I even tried to round up someone (anyone) to go with me via a Facebook status plea.

But no one bit.

I went alone.

Sometime the past school year, I got really into NPR, especially when they did bits on science. Particularly how technology, science and society effect each other. (Actually, I took that exact class last Spring. It was great!)

One Friday afternoon, I was listening to NPR while driving and the radio person was interviewing this guy, Curtis Ebbesmeyer, who rubber ducks and bottles that fell into the ocean and for years would turn up on coastlines. He talked about garbage islands in the ocean, which actually does life on it, and how body parts would turn up on coastlines, solving cold case missing persons stories. Without sounded too soap-box-ish, he would talk about how humans have impacted the ocean and the natural food chains that depend on the ocean through shipping, increased use of plastics, etc. (My good friend Joy also caught this story on NPR and was equally fascinated.)

I imagined Ebbesmeyer to be a really neat grandpa-type man that would be so wise, humble, interesting, and fun to talk to. So, of course I had to go to the book reading. To not only purchase my own book, Flotsametrics and the Floating World (by Curtis Ebbesmeyer and Eric Scigliano), but to meet this man who so fascinated me so much with his work and passion for the ocean.

(I am actually quite terrified of the ocean and deep water thanks to Titanic and other movies where boats/people drown.)

As I sat in the Pearl room at Powell's, scribbling away in my notebook before the author began (with comments like: "ooh there is a guy down the aisle who is talking with a foreign accent, British? Accents are so cool. I should develop a good accent, like a Canadian or Minnesotian one.") I scanned the room. I was happy to be surrounded by many others intrigued, many I imagine to be professors or fellow oceanographers. Behind me there was a little boy who complained to his mom that the screen never changed. "Mamma, when will the screen change?" Apparently, PowerPoint is not advanced enough for elementary -aged kids.

At 7:30pm, the author was introduced, and he began. And I was struck by Ebbesmeyer's humility. He joked about how "at his age" he can start getting away with telling people things they may not like hearing... like that we shouldn't used oil-based plastics (if we want to lower the dependence on oil, it's a start.) He challenged everyone in the room to ask the questions not on the table. And he talked about the ocean. How the water in the ocean was like a Pointillist painting. Blotching, chunky, uneven. He described how the water in the ocean is like pancake batter, stirred with a wooden spoon. You can't make it totally even and smooth, there's just not enough energy. (He calls the chunks "snarks".) He made the ocean romantic, calling it the great musical instrument ever.

I wondered if he was sad at all that he was getting older and his time to study the ocean was getting limited. Not that he was anywhere done with this work, but I would imagine as you get older there is a certain sadness when you've done something for so long and you've poured your life into it... and you have to trust the legacy you are leaving for others to learn and be as excited.

As he shared, I wondered about global warming and felt convicted to recycle better.  I decided I should plan a beach trip to pick up small bits of plastic. And I'd get to see the massive ocean waves, and be reminded that all of this- the Earth, the stars, the ocean was created by an even bigger God. I wondered what Ebbesmeyer thought about God.

Then he showed a picture of a bird picked off live things in the ocean for food. The bird was deformed and its stomach was packed with plastic. It's a wonder it lived as long as it did. As Ebbesmeyer talked about some of the bits of plastic in the bird's stomach- one was from a downed WW2 plane- I was reminded of being a sixth grader at Outdoor School when we were taught how you can study Owl poop to know where its been and how it lived. The contents revealed the life of the Owl.

As I looked at the bits of plastic that was in the bird, I thought about how those bits of plastic show WHERE WE'VE BEEN and HOW WE LIVE.

Anyways. It was all completely fascinating. I got to talk briefly to the author/oceanographer and he was just as I imagined. I told him his work was exciting and that even as a Liberal Arts student, I've been so intrigued by his research and that I looked forward to reading his biography. (Yes, another book to read!)

I also wonder if I had to choose it all over again, I would have chosen to study oceanography.

So, that's one reason no exciting Dave post tonight. I was at a book reading!

So, lesson for all: avoid oil-based plastic (though I am not sure how you can tell if it is or isn't). And, don't forget, admission to the beach is to collect a bag of plastic garbage from the shoreline. If we all do a little, it makes a big difference!

where did I leave off?

First, let me introduce him.

His name is Dave. He is 28 (technically I am about 5 months older than him, but I am doubtful that makes me a cougar... right?) He has brown spikey-ish hair, sports funky glasses, and is 5'11" - the exact height I determined my junior year of college to be the perfect height for me. (Long, very silly story.)

Currently, he is on staff at a local church as an assistant youth pastor. Yes, he is a pastor.  He also does the communication and media stuff for the church. Think bulletins & newsletters, PowerPoints, websites and graphics. Think: very busy and a lot of Adobe Photoshop. Think: the guy who everyone depends on to get things done.  

And it get's crazier. He recently joined the staff at a transitional home/shelter for homeless families. He is also finishing his business degree (so he can have a tent-making ministry - which I quickly learned is not an actual tent-making ministry), and if he has some spare minutes... He likes to see or talk to me.

*Blush*

He has a huge heart. It is evident in how he spends his time (serving and pouring into the lives of youth), and by the amazing people he has in his life (I've met some so far, and they are pretty wonderful.)

And he loves the Lord unabashedly. He also likes Mixed Martial Arts, but I haven't held that against him... yet. 

That's a little bit about him... Let me get back to the story.

So, I am exchanging emails with this dude and it's the craziest experience ever. (How's that for fine writing!) But, seriously, it was pretty crazy. I was in the middle of my summer of house-sitting and it felt like every week or so I was writing from a different home. Probably because I was.

I responded to his ad (which he says he will locate and forward to me for my "records") on May 30th, um, at like 2:45am. Yes, it's true. I was perusing the CL ads at 2am. Remember, I liked his ad because he mentioned he was involved in ministry. I wrote back, saying a little bit about myself and that I also worked in ministry.

He wrote back about 12 hours later. I remember the moment actually. I was waiting at the light headed south on Eastman Parkway in Gresham. It must have been a long line, because I had time to check my gmail from my cell phone. He responded: "What kind of ministry? Do you have a pic? Do you have Facebook or Myspace?"

If you aren't familiar with online dating norms, asking for a "pic" is pretty typical, and with the rise of popularity for FB and Myspace, it's pretty common to share those as well... although before you share such a site, one must: 1. weed through all photos and delete any that are the slightlest bit embarassing/bad and 2. update and edit info/profiles to make sure one sounds witty, cool, etc.

My myspace has been pretty much deserted after the Eharmony Guy #2 (see previous post), and sharing FB can be a pretty personal thing, especially if you are me and you share your whole world on it. I frequenly update my status with random info through my twitter and there is a link to my blog... which contains even more intimate info about me.

I am not even close to the ranks of one of my favorite bloggers, Penelope Trunk, with sharing personal details (I particularly like it when she writes about the farmer) but I get it: sometimes when you write, to make the process complete, you need to be read by someone... even if it's only your best girl friends after you force them to click on your blog link.

But, honestly, when you are just beginning to chat up a guy... do you really want to run the risk of him finding this blog post, or the soap opera confession one or well any under "women's business"? Is sharing your Facebook like opening pandora's box? Hmm.

Either it will endear him to you forever, or he will run like a scared little boy. (And, really, there isn't anything bad to find either.)

Dave and I become Facebook friends. Yes, that makes our friendship official y'know.

Around this time, I realize Dave must know/ work with some folks at Eastside I know through some close friends. I ask him about, choosing to provide evidenciary support:

Pictured: Jamil, Rachel, Mel, Me, Ashlee and Tim. Chris is hiding in the back. The picture was taken on Chris's 28th birthday last October (his 28th birthday on the October 28th!) where we had a pumpkin carving party and watched old Simpson's Halloween episodes.

Now, by sending the picture, not only was I proving I knew his friends, but I was also letting it out that this is me. This is what I look like.

 No lying. No pretending to be something you aren't. You share yourself as you are.

So, he writes back and confirms that Tim and Ashlee where definitely his peeps.

Now, emailing is fun. I remember my grandma telling me when I was a little girl about how her and my grandpa wrote letters to each other while he was in the war. I remember thinking it was the most romantic thing ever. (I still feel that way. And now I can peek through the letters!)

Letters are special. Not only to read them over and over again, pour your heart out in cursive and ink, but to have them, all bundled up to treasure forever.

Google Gmail has kept our emails pretty safe, so far. *wink*

But as wonderful as our emails had begun, and how easily things were flowing... I stalled after a week or two of correspondence.

Blame the busy season. (I was really busy.) But I sat with some long-time, good friends Korrin and Steve and revealed that I didn't know if I was going to continue writing... I had various reasons, most of them stemming from fear. Korrin told me I should keep writing him, that I should give him a chance because dating is about learning about who we are... this could be an excellent learning opportunity. To which Steve adamently agreed, saying something like, "Cori, how come you've given all those losers in the past a chance but when someone who obviously loves the Lord comes along you don't give him a chance?"

Yeah. So, I took that to heart. They were right. Of course, they were right.

I kept writing. Our mutual friends began plotting our first meeting/date. I discovered in more emails that Dave was going to Nicaragua this coming Fall/Winter to some of the same places in Nicaragua I went to March 2008. Crazy. Really crazy.

Soon, I got the email from him with three specific questions:

1. What's your opinion on tattoos and piercings?
2. What's a favorite Bible verse?
3. When can I call you?

:)

To be continued...

(Sorry, I need sleep.)

the long-winded version* of how we met (the teaser continues!)

I've said and done a lot of crazy things in my lifetime. Hasn't everyone? One thing I have said, perhaps flippantly at the time, is: "darn it all if I meet the man of my dreams at the grocery store or some normal way after the years and pains I have gone through to meet someone online... I will be really mad!"

(Because you know, it's all up to us...)

Okay, so maybe, just maybe, that wasn't said so flippantly.  Maybe it was said with a lot of passion and frustration after yet another disappointing dating experience or as a pathetic attempt to defend my history of meeting-men-tactics via the world wide web.

There was "Michigan" whom was met an AIM, oh, 8 or so years ago. Who actually flew across the country to meet me- how many girls can say that? He was a good guy. We just had a continent between us.

And some random yahoo personnels and match.com guys I met while attending OSU or shortly after I left in 2004. These experiences are only "good" because of the lessons I learned (I'd share some, but I am still a little embarassed at my foolishness) and the experience of singing in a garage punk band (which was awesome.) **

Then, there was eharmony. Oh, eharmony... Which to this day, makes me want to cry a little and feel ever-so-slightly bitter. Not that people can't find good men and women on it, but for me... well, I met two guys (that I want to count) and both taught me a lot about expectations and experiencing disapppointment. They weren't bad guys, though the second inspired me to go to counseling (which was a very good thing) and the first inspired me and a friend to skip the country. (Really).

After the rejection from Eharmony Boy #1 and #2, where else was I to go? Enter: Craigslist. Yes, for real. After the let down from this guy who ended up lying about his age (and who knows what else), I was stuck. There was a hole in my heart I was trying desperately to fill... and fill fast. I regularly perused the ads, hoping and searching for someone special.

Which resulted in me, last August, sitting in my bedroom crying, NO BAWLING, to my friend Joy over the telephone. I had just spent a half-hour or so reading through another batch of Craigslist ads and I finally had enough! I needed to confess to my friend what I had been doing and how I was feeling: completely worthless and rejected.

And really stupid. (I hate feeling stupid.)

You see, I loved God, which x-ed out all the athiests/non-Christians. I wasn't looking for sex, so this limited me from the many men who just wanted some girl to sleep with them. I am also not a thin, athletic gal, so as soon as one of them typed, "sorry girls, I don't want to be a jerk but no BBWs" I felt rejected again. Even though I knew better than to judge myself with these worldy standards... I felt hopeless that a really good guy would like ever me, so I considered settling for less. (Wow, thats weird to admit.)

I cried on the phone to my friend that there must be something wrong with me... that I must be too fat, too ugly, too goody-goody for anyone to ever date me and make me feel special.

Really. I was in a bad place.

Of course, she listened and told me I was being too hard on myself. And, of course, she told me to stop reading the ads. She said all the right, wonderful things a good friend should say. She reminded me I was looking for acceptance from the world, and I should be focused on the amazing love God has for me. That He accepted me, loved me, found me worthy. And I kept crying because it felt good to get it all out in the open... even if I didn't know what I'd do next. I knew she was right. I let myself be fooled. I believed the lies that the Enemy was feeding me through these ads.

I talked to my counselor about it, and he gave me an assignment. An assignment which may sound a little weird, but it really helped me. He told me to go back to the Craigslist ads (I wonder if this is akin to sending a recovering alcoholic to a bar?) and read them again. Really. But this time read them with new eyes. Ask myself if these guys are worthy of me. Ask myself if these guys love the Lord, if they fit the standards I set for myself long ago. Ask myself if I really liked them. Ask myself if they were good enough for me not if I was good enough for them.

I prayed about it a lot. And then I did it: I read through the ads with my new Godly-chic glasses on.

Wow. What was I thinking? As I read through the ads, I felt the dirtiness and the shame of believing these guys had something I wanted and for letting them make me feel less than what God created me to be: lovely.  

Between my friend's words and the experience re-reading the ads, it was like a lightbulb went off in my head and I realized that I had given these nameless, clueless guys too much power in my life.  What was I thinking? Furthermore, I realized I felt sorry for these guys. They were missing out on something really special, even if they had no idea. Not just me (hehe), but they were missing out on a true love relationship with Jesus Christ. As I read through the ads, I rejected them and their worldly ideas for happiness and worthiness.

I felt empowered.

Now, that doesn't mean I never read/responded to an ad ever again. Honestly, I had a light bulb moment... I didn't change my spots completely.  Actually, I rarely ever responded to an ad in the first place, I mostly just read them and let the words alone reject me. The difference now was: I kept my Godly-chic glasses on.

And, honestly, eventually I just stopped bothering to look at all.

I spent the past year- my 28th year- not focused on dating (though it was always in the back of my mind) but on achieving some big goals in my life and appreciating my singleness. I went back to school. I worked hard at my job and got a really awesome review. I tried some new ministry opportunities. I met new people and developed great new friendships. I felt heartache through some difficult friendship troubles. And through all of it and more, God has been by my side. Even when He felt distant, I knew He was there. 

Then, it happened. I had just finished my last final for Spring term at OSU, and my long-time, good friend Steve and I had made plans to celebrate. It was the first time we had hung out in a long time, and I was quickly reminded of how wonderful it was to spend time with a neat Christian guy (he is an awesome man of God) and, really, the evening was fairly romantic, even though it was entirely platonic. (For the record, Steve is now dating my friend Tessa, so don't be getting any false ideas.) We walked along the beach and talked about God and the church and there were real fireworks- like real ones!

Inspired and reminded that I was created for relationship with a nice, Christian man (and I didn't want to be hiding out forever)... I took a peek and read through some CL ads. (I know, why I looked at the old fishing spot when I should have learned by then to fish in prettier waters... I just don't know.)  

But then I read his. 

Now, I wish I had saved a copy of his ad... (Hopefully he has it somewhere?) Something about his ad was different. I remember he mentioned he was looking for someone to share ministry with. I liked that. I liked it a lot. So, I wrote to him.

And then he wrote me back.

And this continued...  and continued...

(And I began to freak out because maybe this was real? I had guarded myself for so long from actual intimacy... this was entirely new. It's one thing to be "on the hunt" but to actually be in a relationship?! Yikes!)

*wink*

Recently, he wrote to me that my response was the only one he wrote back to... which I know: "best online dating pick up line ever" but he it was sweet and genuine! And I loved it. And both of us truly believe that God was involved in our online meeting... even if we could have totally met in real life because we quickly learned in our emailing that our best friends were friends (crazy!) and they could have totally set us up.

Hmm. God's timing is everything. We also totally "met" several years ago at a Lord Save Us From Your Followers documentary. Our friends stood and talked for a bit. Us? We were just standing there quiet and oblivious. Totally a 'Til There Was You movie moment.)

I am feeling like God cares so much about me right now and my heart to find someone (online) over the years (okay, go with me here I know this makes me sound a little cukoo), that MAYBE of all the ways I could have met this guy... God, in His goodness and awesome humor, chose to do it this way to remind me that He loves me so much and knows me so well to not make feel like a loser who tried and failed so many times?

Am I crazy? Maybe. But who cares! I am happy.

Wait until you hear the rest! He is wonderful. :) Until then... aren't you glad I realized how great and loveable I am?

*Long-winded version? So what if I take a really long time to get the good part. I had a lot to learn first. I still have a lot to learn. This is just the tip of the iceberg, my reading friends.

**It has been recommended to me by several friends over the years to write out all my online dating stories in a novel-type form. Apparently, they are pretty darn funny and even a little twisted. Maybe someday.

a teaser...

Wow.

When I began the summer I had high hopes of reading through a crazy summer reading list, having a lot of free time to take hikes, organizing all my stuff and repainting my room and going on exciting road trips.

Ha!

I did manage to read through a couple books. And I have purchased several more books which will be read through... someday.

Somehow my summer got too exciting for reading the so-serious books I had planned on.

I met a someone special. *wink*

I have real move out plans.

Work is going well. Even with my dear friend and now FORMER boss leaving and moving to Mexico to be a missionary/teacher!

I have spent many, many wonderful days and evenings with friends.

And, did I mention, I met a man? 'Cause I did. And I have to admit... reading his emails and talking to him on the phone and making plans with him... have sooooo beat out my reading list plans.

Ironically, one of the only books I managed to fully finish this summer was How to Get a Date Worth Keeping by Dr. Henry Cloud.

I think it worked. Single friends: you can borrow the book any time, just be fully warned of its potency. I've read A LOT of books about being single, how to date the Christian way, etc. This one clicked differently for me. Maybe it was God's timing, more than the book itself... I don't know.

So, I am working on some posts to spill all (well, not all) of the juicy details. He has given me permission (sorta) to write about him. I asked on our third date. Really. Though I haven't until now... Have just been enjoying it all. :) 

I also mentioned MOVING OUT PLANS! For those who read my post earlier this summer about searching for home-sweet-home, this is an answer to prayer! I will be writing about that too.

And I have a tribute to Rachel in the works.

I have all sorts of thoughts bouncing around in my head, waiting to get out and be read!

Stay tuned.