Hope is hearing the melody of the future. Faith is to dance to it. ~R. Alves

Sunday I found myself following my traditional-routine-when-there-is-nothing-planned-for-that-day.  Ahh.  Such luxury.

 

I was wrapped in a jacket (experience has taught me the AC in this place is particularly fierce), curled up in a wooden booth, the friendly cashier having startled me out of my inner world to clean away my dish, when this song came on.

 

I happened to be in the middle of this book.

 

It made me giggle. [I would have actually laughed, but I respected the families/couples having their Sunday dinner around me.  Besides, I get enough odd looks as it is].

 

Perhaps it is a sign?

 

But this will be my last traditional-routine-when-there-aren't-any-plans for awhile.  My weekends are gradually being booked.

 

Which reminds me -- my newly married friend and her husband are having a house-warming party the weekend after next.  I am unable to go, but I must ring her up and ask if there's another weekend that will work.  I'm happy for my busy schedule.  It means that I'll be able to enjoy just her instead of also having to be polite to the rest of the family (her sister-in-law and sister-in-law's husband are having their house-warming on the same weekend.  They, in fact, are moving into the same neighborhood.  Five houses down).

 

For the first time in my life (at least that I'm aware of), there are some people who dislike me for just being me.  Even though I'm aware of the cattiness of women, it wasn't until the wedding that I truly understood how catty we can be -- when my friend's mother-in-law and sister-in-law were all sweetness'n'light to my face, yet I just knew they disliked me.

 

Why?  Because my friend chose me instead of the sister to be Maid of Honor.  A sister she'd only met once, I add, whereas we've been good friends for nigh-on a dozen years.  Not to mention that we have a standing joke that if she leaves her new husband, we all know who she'll marry.  Yeah, me.  It's funny, especially when you know us (she's conservative Catholic, I'm peppy Protestant -- not to mention that we're both straight).

 

Then again, I was surprised people didn't assume I was a lesbian (maybe they did?), because apparently the one question a Maid of Honor is asked by random strangers at all wedding festivities (after the introductory "so how do you know the bride?"), is "so are you married/engaged/seeing someone" or various forms of "will you be next down the aisle?"

 

It went beyond annoying after the first dozen times, to highly amusing after the second dozen.  Especially when the next question was typically, "so what do you do?"  It wasn't until the other bridesmaid pointed out the inflection of the last word that it began to amuse.  Especially since the other bridesmaid didn't get the first question, and scared off all others by the second (having recently graduated with a master's in international security).

 

Maybe that's why I've ended up chuckling my way through the aforementioned book, finding there, between the covers, a wonderful description of who I am and how I function.

 

Or not.  Maybe I'm just weird.

 

I did give myself an extra twenty minutes of sleep this morning, plus two hearty cups of tea, in order that I will be alert enough to enjoy tonight's late-night margaritas and taquitos.

 

Yeah, baby.  It's Thursday.

 

 

Oh.  Yeah.  I didn't actually get asked the title question, but we now have a running joke about it, especially since it seemed the mother-of-the-groom believed that every single person "past a certain age" (18, I'm thinking) might be called to the priesthood/nunnery.  Except her daughter, of course -- she wants grandchildren.  But yes, she did ask her son if wasn't sure he wasn't meant to be a priest -- after he told her he was engaged to my friend.  And you wonder why we don't exactly get along?