I Don't Have to Be Everyone's (or Anyone's) Cup of Tea

This is it, folks, the first blog I am typing on my BRAND NEW LAPTOP. As I use this thing, my mind is jolted back to Jaime Sommers, one of my heroes in my childhood - because this computer is "better, stronger, and faster" for sure! (And when I speak of the Bionic Woman, know that I am talking about Lindsay Wagner, not the horrible remake attempt in 2007 by Generation Regurgitation, who probably only knows Ms. Wagner as the Sleep Number lady.) Thus, I have dubbed this laptop Jaime, and I will refer to it as such in future blogs. I tell you this to eliminate confusion, so you won't think I hired a partner. In the relatively solitary life I lead, I name inanimate things around me. My car is Joshua, and I have a blanket named Slurpee II. Most of these names have long stories attached, but if you find me speaking of them, please know I'm really not insane - or at least I don't think I am.

So...after I got up this morning and did a bunch of domestic duties around the house and finished editing a resume for one of my sweet clients on Walter, my old laptop (named after one of my former pets as well as Mr. White), I shoved Jaime in a bag and drove off to grab mine and Cissy's double-dates for our trip to Cinema 10. A good time was had by all at Jurassic World, and I saw no offensive carnage that I was warned about, but as I mentioned on Facebook, I am a bit desensitized after spending the 80s watching Sly blow people apart and Freddy turning teens into chop suey. The kids and their allegedly dieting Aunt Hottie ate too much popcorn and candy, but it's always a fun time with my elder neffies and my daughter.

Since Cissy is spending the night with her cousins tonight and helping out at Northside VBS, I am on my own, and my favorite place to be when I'm on my own is at Kairo's Coffee Shop. I love all varieties of caffeinated bliss, I love the ambiance, and the free WI-Fi and quiet little seating area is perfect for editing. I managed to finish a synopsis for one of my clients, as well as to get things set up on Jaime for working, all in a couple hours time, fueled by a skinny hazelnut latte and some sort of Kenyan coffee, as well as the sugar left over from all the candy I devoured at the theater.

Earlier, as I sat here working, I realized something about myself. I am not the girl I used to be. Without a second thought, I found myself talking to the barista and also the one other patron in the coffee shop, who was sitting behind his own laptop across the room, working on a script he's writing. He remembered me from the last time I was here, and he asked me if I had more books to work on today. Why is a normal conversation with a couple of relative strangers such a big deal? Because in grade school and high school, speaking to anyone in a casual conversation gave me pterodactyls in my stomach (forget the measly butterflies). I was so socially awkward when I was young, even into my first year of college, that I would not walk across a room to go to the bathroom and would just hold it as long as I could to avoid that. I did not even eat lunch most days of my freshman year at Shawnee for fear of having to walk in front of my classmates, whom I feared would insult my weight or my hair or my clothes or numerous other things (which they often did, but that is nothing new in the universe, because it happens every day to every kid, in one way or another, as humans have always been historically cruel, and I haven't been nice to everyone every day either).

Now, that girl who was so shy and horribly quiet and afraid to even lift her eyes off the floor went somewhere over the years. I don't know when, and I don't know how, and I still struggle a GREAT DEAL with VERY low self-esteem, but today, I didn't even think about it. Not once did it cross my mind to be nervous or shy or introverted. Not once did I feel like a shrinking violet. I don't have much confidence, but I have a whole lot more than I used to, even far more than I had as recently as a couple years ago. Maybe it's just that I've gotten older, but it's a nice feeling to poke my head out of my shell a bit. A lot of people think I'm weird. A lot more probably find me annoying, unattractive, bothersome, or even rude, nosy, stupid, or boring. I don't tend to relate with people my age, as I've always been a bit "younger" than my years, at least in mindset. I have a lot of baggage and a lot of history I'd rather forget, a lot of bad decisions that were, in many ways, a result of my lack of self-esteem (as we all do). But somewhere along the way, I've found a bit of strength to accept that I am who I am and that I'm not so bad after all. Sure, I'm forty-four, but I'm finally starting to find myself, I think. Bad hair, a purple tooth, a few extra pounds that are sticking around longer than I'd like, no successful relationships to speak of, an odd and cynical sense of humor, an obsessive worrying disorder, and a tendency to rant about anything and everything might not be everyone's cup of tea - or even anyone's - but I am convinced that God makes all sorts of tea, and I'm starting to be okay with what He's made me.