hopeful romantic

I met my friend's mom, the other day. To my surprise, when she heard my name she said, "Oh. Yes. I've read your blog. You're a romantic." Cool. I feel famous. But am I a romantic? And furthermore, she thought I was a romantic from reading my blog? Someone last semester told me that I was the most sarcastic, negative person they had ever met, and certainly I realize that this blog doesn't do anything to disprove that statement.*

And despite my great sense of vitriol, I believe that I am a romantic. I want to fall in love and go to Paris. OR come back from Paris with a makeover and have the man that has ignored me my whole life suddenly think I'm hot.† I mean, who doesn't?

Of course, the "I mean, who doesn't?" arguement doesn't necessarily mean that this romanticism is healthy. I feel like I have been almost obsessive over this idea. I also feel like maybe I have been subconsciously waiting for the day my life turns into a romantic comedy and then I'll be completely fufilled. Until then, it's fine if I'm a little down.

O Israel, put your hope in the LORD
both now and forevermore.‡

I think I have misplaced my hope. And this is probably just as well, because the Lord is very near, and Paul Rudd is... not, and the Lord is ever constant, and Paul Rudd gains weight everytime I see him in a movie.

This Year of Not Being Shy thing is important and good for me. But my boldness should be the boldness in Christ, not the desperation for friends or romance.

I'm still so young and confused.



*I'd like to take this opportunity to apologize to and thank everyone who reads this blog. I am usually in a certain mood when I blog, so I really appreciate having people listen/read.
†Of course, I'm referencing Sabrina. Watch the old one. It's better.
‡Psalm 131:3