Warning: A non-numeric value encountered in /home/awkward9/public_html/wp-content/themes/Builder-Cohen/lib/builder-core/lib/layout-engine/modules/class-layout-module.php on line 505

Archive for Geek

A Little Girl Power Goes a Long Way

*This post contains very minor spoilers for Captain Marvel, like barely at all, but just a head’s up if you haven’t had the chance to see it yet.

As I stood in line to get my picture taken with the Dora Milaje at Disney’s California Adventure this weekend, my mum and I both got a little choked up. These women, two “cast members” hired to pose for photos with Disney guests, took their time with some of those in line – the ones who needed it. A group of women celebrating a bachelorette weekend walked by, and one of the actresses gruffly called out the bride’s name and stalked after them to give them a hard time. She returned, unapologetic for the extended wait for our short line, explaining tersely “We know them. They were here earlier. We never forget a name.” Next up was an overweight, middle-aged, black man wearing a “Straight Outta Wakanda” shirt. He was clearly excited to get his photo with them, but was shy and a little intimidated by them. Heck, we were all intimidated by them. They were incredibly respectful to him, treating him like a Wakandan warrior, showing him how to pose so his shirt would still show in the picture. He left, head held high.

Ahead of us was a little girl. For her, they knelt down to be at her level. They took the time to talk with her. From the snippets we could hear, they were telling her that she was a warrior, strong and brave. She looked nervous and very serious, taking in every word. They told her to repeat after them, “I am strong. I am brave.” We couldn’t hear the rest. She repeated so quietly, and the moment wasn’t for the crowd anyway, it was just for her. For this little girl. This one little girl who stood up tall and strong afterward for the photo, flanked by these beautiful black women who had poured into her, built her up. Mum and I were both teary-eyed by the end of her time. My moment with them was brief and professional. I did not want to take up too long, just posed and thanked them for the time they spend with that little girl. They nodded, then moved on to the next, never breaking character.

It would have been such a simple thing to pose, and move on, but Disney and these actresses took their role as role models seriously and turned a tourist photo-op into small, powerful moments of influence.

Today, mum and I finally got a chance to sneak away and see Captain Marvel. Like Wonder Woman and Black Panther before it, there were moments that gave me goosebumps and a time or two where I held back a couple tears. One such moment was Maria Rambeau telling Carol Danvers she was already amazing, even before she got her powers, the two powerful women serving as examples for the young Monica Rambeau, poised to become a superhero herself one day. There’s a moment like this between Jessica Drew and Carol Danvers in the latest iteration of the Captain Marvel comic book, one of encouragement and empowerment between best friends.

I hope I can find small moments in my days and weeks to help the people in my life feel stronger, braver, better. As Christians, we are told to “encourage one another and build one another up” (1 Thessalonians 5:11). And as a woman, I see how impactful even a minute or two can be in the life of someone who might not hear these words very often.

It may seem silly, to be inspired by fictional superheroes, but I’m an English major librarian who lives in the realm of books and stories, so what did you expect? I know the little incel boys have the opposite reaction to these moments, but perhaps that’s what makes them all the more powerful. I am a woman, not a man, and my students are children – vulnerable, often voiceless, representing many races and backgrounds. I may not have super powers, but I do have the gift of moments with them. May I use them wisely. Because, as we all know, with great power comes great responsibility. May I pass on the inspiration that was given to me to be who God made us to be.

The Awkward Spinster’s Best of 2018

There is one day left of 2018, one more day to reflect on the good, the bad, and the ugly that this year offered up. Instead, I think mum and I are going to go play in our city, LA, for the day, and try to squeeze the last bits of Christmas out of the year before undecorating and starting fresh. And yes, just in case you were wondering, I will be wearing this sparkly fuzzy tiara and drinking mini-champagne-for-one tonight at home with my mother. Because as great as my life is, I am still a total singleton surrounded by marrieds who can’t go out on New Year’s Eve. Alas.

This year, blogging has become more difficult as I’ve grown more and more content in my status as Awkward Spinster. I guess it’s always easier to complain and grumble and point out all the down sides than it is to express contentment and joy in something that used to be so difficult. Yes, singleness at 40 still isn’t my Plan A, never was, but God has other plans for me and I’m loving them. Thank you, as always, to my readers, both single and married, for continuing on in this awkward yet fabulous life of a recovering cynical single! 

To continue the tradition I started last year, for those of you who missed or would like to revisit them, here’s a look back at the 5 most popular Awkward Spinster blog posts of 2018:

5. The fifth most popular blog post of this year delves into a topic most people try to avoid because they’re worried it’ll be too painful, or too personal, or just too awkward: The Childless Woman.

4. Even though I’ve discovered more peace with my singleness this year, there is one area of my life which is still an endless struggle. Sadly, it’s the church: When Sunday Is the Most Difficult Day of the Week.

3. The third most popular post was one of my more cheerful, optimistic posts about how lovely life can be for a single person who comes to accept it and stops trying to change their status: The Freedom of Not Even Trying to Date.

2. Coming in second place is my contemplation on how the church often squashes the voice of the single woman in its congregation: The Church’s Silencing of Single Women.

1. The most popular post this year, by far, explored how difficult living a single and celibate life can be, even in the modern protestant church: Single and Celibate in the Church. This article was Part One of the series “Single and Celibate: Always the Odd One Out.”

And here’s my choice for the most underrated post that I wish more people had read because I love it: Of Toddlers and Time Travel.

This year, I also updated my About page and added Speaking and Contact pages, which have added a lot to The Awkward Spinster.

Looking back on 2018, here are a few more favorites of the year:

Favorite Song of 2018: “This Is America” by Childish Gambino, aka Donald Glover. This is one of the more powerful pieces of music from this year of increased militant nationalism.

Favorite TV Show of 2018: Season 5 of Brooklyn Nine-Nine. I love this show so much and am thrilled it was picked up by NBC for a sixth and final season. Follow them on social media for some uplifting fun posts.

Favorite Movies of 2018: There was no way I could pick one. This was the year of “Black Panther,” “Won’t You Be My Neighbor,” and “To All the Boys I’ve Loved Before.” I can not and will not choose just one.

Favorite Comic Book of 2018: Image Comics released graphic novels 4 and 5 of “Paper Girls” this year. This time traveling, sci-fi story of newspaper girls from the 80’s, futuristic humans, and dinosaurs is always a favorite of mine.

Favorite Book of 2018: “Party of One: Truth, Longing, and the Subtle Art of Singleness” by Joy Beth Smith. I don’t often like books about singleness, especially not Christian ones, but this one broke the mold and is worth the read. Check out my book review, “A Galentine’s Reading Recommendation,” if you’re interested.

Let me know what your favorites of 2018 were, and have a happy new year.

I wish you all a 2019 filled with love, joy, and peace.

How to be Single, Celibate, and Happily Turn 40 – Embrace Having Nothing to Prove

High school was not a pleasant time for me. A geeky girl with few friends, I could not wait for those years to be over. And then something happened the second semester of my senior year – somehow, I stopped caring what everyone else thought and started doing what I wanted to do. I went on the senior trip even though none of my little group of close friends were going. I went to grad night. I read a poem at graduation even though it terrified me. I started going to the college group at my church because I didn’t fit in the high school group. That last semester was the first time I enjoyed high school even a little bit.

Tip 4: Embrace Having Nothing to Prove

There is a certain wisdom that can come with age if we let it, a freedom from the fear of man. For me, this includes the fear of my own previous expectations of myself as well as those of others. By I now have 4 decades to look back on God’s faithfulness in my life, which helps me realize I truly can trust in him to love me and guide me; I don’t need to be anything other than what he wants me to be (Proverbs 29:25, Ecclesiastes 4:4).

To be honest, I’m still working on this one. There are still voices in the back of my head that shame me for working fewer hours, or earning so little compared to my education level, or no longer having a position of honor at my church. It’s hard to let go of my pride and allow myself to be free to spend time with my family, enjoy rest and sleep, and follow others’ leadership instead of being the ever-busy leader myself. I’m still learning that Christ came that I “may have life and have it abundantly” (John 10:10).

When I took my little sabbatical at English L’Abri for 3 months in the midst of reevaluating my life, my tutor reminded me that there is nothing I can do today that will make God love me any more than he already does. I am his beloved, and nothing will change that.

One of the hardest parts about being single into adulthood is feeling the judgment of others. We experience expressions of pity from the old couple at church who’ve been married 50 years. We dodge scathing critiques from those who think it’s our fault because we’re too fat, too opinionated, too ambitious, too selfish, too something they obviously are not. We suffer through bad advice fed by even worse theology – lines like “just give it time, God has someone for everyone,” “make sure you’re putting yourself out there,” “have enough faith, and God will bring them when you’re ready,” or “perhaps you should just change this huge part of yourself and then you’ll get a date!”

At this point, 40 years in, I’ve heard it all and I honestly can say I just don’t care anymore. I know what the Bible says. I know what God thinks of me. And it gets easier year by year to let these comments slide off my back, or even better, to gently reply to the well-meaning critic with truth instead of these silly platitudes.

ProTip:

Realize the love of God emanates out of himself, and therefore is not contingent on you fulfilling everyone else’s expectations. You have nothing to prove.

Swing by the Awkward Spinster tomorrow for the last tip in the How to be Single, Celibate, and Happily Turn 40 series.

A Very Potter Birthday

What is the best way to turn 40? With a surprise Harry Potter party thrown by your best friends and family, of course! And yes, I really was surprised.

Some backstory: several years ago, after it became apparent that there was a likelihood my singleness may be a permanent state rather than a “season of life,” I developed a plan. If I didn’t get married and do the whole wedding/reception with all the friends and family thing, I’d throw a huge 40th birthday party. But not just any party, I planned to rent out the Great Hall of the world’s best Harry Potter store, Whimsic Alley on the Miracle Mile in Los Angeles, and have an adults only Potterfest worthy of J.K. Rowling herself. A Pinterest board was created. Research into costs and options was done. Friends and family were told.

And then, shortly after my 39th birthday, Whimsic Alley closed its doors for good. My sister and I pondered other venues, but nothing remotely affordable was even close. I decided that I’d rather just have a small family thing at home, and go out for coffee or lunch with friends throughout my birth month.

Fast-forward to July, 2018, and I was happily getting together with old friends for lunches here and there, and going to Las Vegas for a weekend with two of my best friends. Very content with my 40th birth month so far, I was supposed to go out the Saturday before my birthday for a sister night; she had something planned but wouldn’t tell me.

The day before, she called and told me the time to be ready, and that I should wear my Harry Potter swag and bring one of my wands. Now, for a lot of people this might seem like an odd request, but in our family it’s actually not that weird at all. We are one geeky brood. Check out my sister’s blog, my oldest brother’s blog, and my youngest brother’s art for further evidence. I figured she was taking me to a rooftop movie screening of HP, an HP themed puzzle room, or maybe even Wizarding World for the night.

So that afternoon, I put on my Hot Topic Harry Potter Great Hall Dress, “Books Turn Muggles into Wizards” necklace, golden snitch bracelet, and Hedwig earrings, chose one of my three wands, and hopped in my sister’s car. We headed to one of our favorite spots to eat, Little Osaka (Sawtelle Japantown). She then said we were going to meet two of my friends at my LA home church parking lot because they were coming with us. This seemed logical to me, as meeting in that parking lot was something we’d done many times when I still lived in West LA. Once at the church, the sis said she needed to use the bathroom, so we headed through the only door that appeared to be unlocked and up the stairs to encounter a “brick wall” over the door way.

I was stunned. It finally clicked that we weren’t here to pick up friends or use the bathroom, but that behind this curtain would be some sort of surprise party for me. But I honestly hadn’t seen it coming! I’d come to terms with the fact that my dream party wouldn’t happen, had accepted it, and moved on. Then I walked through the brick wall reminiscent of the entrance to Diagon Alley, and there was the entire Great Hall of Hogwarts laid out before me, and almost 40 of my friends screaming “Surprise!”

It was overwhelming, still is actually. The amount of work and creativity they put into transforming a room in a church to a banquet hall, the months of planning without me catching even a hint, the love and care put into this one night still blows my mind.

The Platform 9 ¾ photo booth. The butterbeer, firewhiskey, and smoking punch. The house themed tables, banners, and house gemstones (with Ravenclaw in the lead, of course!). The portraits of witches and wizards on the walls. The props and decorations and food. It was all perfect.

On a table to the side sat the most beautiful birthday cake I’ve ever gotten, made by one of my best friends, a brilliant pastry chef. It was also freakin’ delicious.

Moaning Myrtle even made an appearance in the ladies’ bathroom.

And, just like I’d dreamt, friends from many different aspects of my life joined together to hang out for one night – from my current town, from my old West LA life, family, roommates, dear friends from ministries past, my writer’s group, grad school, and childhood. Some who had never read the HP books or seen the movies still came and posed in the photo booth with beards and wands and a fabulous Hedwig balloon. Many came in full costume (my mom was seriously the cutest Molly Weasley ever) or Potterbounded.

It was my dream party even after I thought that dream was put aside. It was the best way to enter my forties – with love, joy, and whimsy.

A Spinster Forgets How To Small Talk

I’ve forgotten how to small talk. The realization of this hit me on Saturday night, as I sat on the deck of a sailboat smooshed together with LA friends, people I had met a couple times years ago, and people I never met and was not introduced to. While social situations in which I don’t know people have always stressed me out, I used to be quite good at them. At least I think I was. But there I was, sitting there wracking my brain for things to say to the guy next to me and coming up with nothing. No statements. No questions. Nothing.

In that moment, I realized that I don’t really hang out with people other than my family any more. I have lost the ability to do the small talking and the meeting and the socializing. And most people around me seem to do the same. Is it my age? Is it the more suburban desert life instead of a city one? Is it because I was working 4 jobs for a couple months so was just wiped out when I got home? Have I become antisocial? Like most things, it’s probably a combination of all the above.

Age is definitely a factor. I lived my late 20s-30s in Los Angeles, and in the city those are peak single years so it’s not difficult to eventually end up surrounded by other singles close to that age. And we lived life together. Our families were all in other cities, so we relied upon each other. My church was young and fostered this connection as if its life depended upon it, which I suppose it did. So, awkwardly and with a lot of effort, we created a little community of weird singles which grew as some of us dated, married, and/or had babies.

But the step after that is a hard one, as many of us moved away at that point. Even this weekend’s event was a going away party for one such couple. I stayed at another dear friend’s apartment, like always, only this time there were boxes and boxes against the walls as they too are starting to pack for their upcoming move. The city life is often a transient one. That age has passed.

Starting over again at almost 40 has been a bit more difficult socially. I’m still single. But I’m not 28. And in this suburbanish desert town, most Christians marry young, or at least younger than in LA. And the couples my age or older have teenage kids, and are incredibly busy. Everyone is so busy with activities – but not “hang out” activities. No one invites me over for dinner, or to grocery shop together, or to watch Netflix, or grab lunch after church. It’s a rather insulated city – people with houses and yards instead of tiny apartments where shared space is required for sanity.

Photo by Don Lee

In LA, very few of us had yards, so we’d all congregate in that one friend’s backyard for every birthday, holiday, or event. We’d squish 20 people into tiny apartments without a thought. We’d share space, air conditioning, Netflix, parking, storage, everything. Here, everyone is with their families, in their own homes, with their own garages and air conditioning and built in friends of husbands and kids. I am almost always with my family here as well, which is beautiful and special. So yes, age and the suburban lifestyle have definitely affected my ability to make new friends.

The general busy pace of life has also been isolating. Which is odd, because I’m actually working much less than I ever did in the higher pressure jobs I held before. We were incredibly busy, but somehow we figured out how to be busy together. Every Wednesday, I’d meet the girls for happy hour after work. We’d go to each other’s apartments to grade together. We walked to lunch after church together. We had Bible study in the same apartment for years, and ended up there so often it became a second home. Sometimes we even went grocery shopping together. Somehow the fact that we were all ridiculously busy never stopped us from hanging out – we just rolled each other into our day to day activities so much that it became our natural way of living.

Here, I go to work, come home and have dinner and watch TV with my mom, which has been quite lovely to be honest. But that’s pretty much every single week day. To be fair, I’ve been pretty exhausted at the end of the day lately because of the multiple jobs and also I was ill, but in my previous life that wouldn’t have stopped community. Friends would have just come over anyway. If I was sick, they’d stop by to bring me soup. If I was busy, they’d come be busy with me. If I was tired, they’d set me up on their couch in front of Gilmore Girls reruns, and put food and drink in my hand.

But here, I can be autonomous – I can let my family take care of me and not need anyone else. And since not one single person from my new church has ever invited me to go to lunch after service, or over for dinner, I haven’t bothered to reach out either. I don’t need them as much with my family right here. And I guess they don’t need me. So that makes it harder to bother.

That leaves the question, have I become antisocial? And I guess I have, at least a little bit. Starting the making friends thing all over again when I’m turning 40 in a month is unpleasant. Apparently I’m too young for the 50 year old couples in my Sunday School class to bother with me outside of Sunday morning. And I’m too old for the singles groups (thank God! I never did like singles groups). Because I know I either need to keep trying group after group after group to see if one may fit better or I just have to throw myself into the one I’m in now and do all the work of brazenly inviting myself into their lives, I’ve opted for just not having many friends here. Just sticking with my family and my one old friend.

Because of this, I haven’t gone to an actual party in ages. I haven’t showed up at a friend’s place to see a ton of faces I don’t recognize. There have been no happy hours or kick-backs or store runs or World Cup watching get togethers. And I think I’ve become happily comfortable in my anti-social life. It’s less tiring. Less work. And involves very little small talk.

But on the boat Saturday night, looking around at everyone else chatting away as I sat there silent for the moment, the thought struck me that maybe I’ve grown too self-focused through this isolation. I’ve got a lot to think about. But I think it might be time for me to try out the 30-somethings group at church even though I’ll be the oldest person there. It might be time for me to put in a bit more effort to becoming part of the community outside of my family. It might be time for me to brush up on my small talk.