Blog 27: On Being One of the Boys and the Mechanics of True Gentlemen

I've never been much for girly times, really. None of my best girlfriends are overly feminine. We're a bit rough and tumble, I'd say, and a great deal less tender in our sensibilities than most. I like attention as much as the next chick, but I really don't try to be impressive (Side note: maybe that's why I'm single, haha). Even so, every once in awhile it's a bit sad to not be that oft-sought-after, flawless Beauty--but what softens the blow quite a bit is that I get to have such fulfilling friendships with my fellas. I feel like so many people don't get platonic relationships. It's all about fading fancy and what feels good at the time--so they lose something so wonderful and (in my opinion) vital. I am blessed to have some of the greatest guy friends a girl can have. All my life, I've felt like I could truly be just Haylee, with all my weirdness/crassness/lack of grace when I'm with the few tried-and-true gentlemen I know. These are the ones who, over the years, have valued my friendship over passing romantic notions. I got the chance to see two such buddies just yesterday for the first time in a year. It got me thinking.

What is it that truly makes both a fantastic guy friend and a real gentleman? I don't tend to take the traditional views of it, I suppose. These fellas probably wouldn't be considered suave nor terribly polite--but in their own way they're far superior to many of the respected men I know. I think what separates them first and foremost is honesty. They're not afraid to say what they think, and they don't care as much about being liked as they care about being themselves. Here are some other things I've realized basically make a great guy friend:

• Response: My favorite fellas always get back to me as soon as they can when we're making plans or even just talking about something. They respect my time and don't keep me in suspense unnecessarily--maybe because they realize if we don't get back to one another, other plans will be made. haha. They don't expect me to just be available whenever they feel like it. I'm big on manners, and it's just plain rude to make someone wait on you--AND it makes it look like you really don't care about the friendship.
• Reliability: They don't always make idle chit-chat, but I know I can count on them if I need anything important--help moving, a ride when I've got a flat tire, even something as simple as a supporting elbow to help clumsy HayBoo walk across a slippery floor (happened just last night).
• Protectiveness without Patronization: They're willing to scare away weirdos bothering me (or at the very least, crack jokes about it to ease my suffering- haha). They offer to carry things for me or sometimes even just take it without having to ask if I need help--but if I prefer to handle it myself, they allow it. An example of this would be yesterday--my buddy knew we were wandering in downtown Chattanooga until he and another friend got off work (we were visiting, you see). A big storm was coming, so he took the time to call and make sure we had somewhere safe to go/weren't freaked out by the tempest. But he didn't try to tell us what to do or act like my mother. Concern without being creepy or heavy-handed is so refreshing.
• Space: We all care about each other, but they don't smother me. They don't just drop out of my life when I haven't had time to see them. And they don't get pissed if I don't drop everything to babysit their emotions. Also--they don't hit on me (at least, not with serious intent). haha. They don't mind talking to me about their special lady friends, as opposed to zeroing in on me in an unhealthy way. And they want my attention, but they don't demand it.
• Sincerest Flattery: These guys are never afraid to give a compliment. One dear fellow, for example, is never afraid to say "You look beautiful today," and in high school, the lunch crew (group of boys I hung out with constantly during senior year) would laugh at my jokes, tell me I was noble for my good girl stance on different things (whether or not they agreed with it), or even in one case, tell me I had the best prom dress out of our group. It wasn't awkward because we were comfortable around each other, and it wasn't just a bunch of duplicitous crap for selfish purposes.
• Acceptance: They never expect me to be someone different, even when they disagree with me or think I'm being ridiculous (which is probably quite often). They take the good with the bad and don't want me to dumb myself down or let them beat me in something just so they can bolster their egos. They actually listen to what I have to say and can poke fun while also valuing my good qualities. They like the things that I like about myself, and help me appreciate the things I don't. They like that I'm not tiptoeing around being a shining example of gentle femininity. They like that I speak my mind.
• Hugs. I know it sounds a little Care-Bearesque, but I think most bad days (or good ones for that matter) can be improved with a big hug from a friend. It's pretty silly, but I like to feel dainty and girly every once in awhile, and I can't think of anything that accomplishes that end more than one of the fellas just extending an arm or even practically crushing me while lifting me off my feet. haha.

Sad to say, I know very few guys who meet my expectations of a gentleman. Bunch of rogues and scoundrels, they are--renegades even--but then, that's probably why I love them so well (and why I fit in with them). hehe.

Blog 27: Lifestyles of the Poor and Unknown

First off, I am surely grateful for everything that I have. And I realize, when I complain, that it is ridiculous. I am very blessed. But sometimes I wish I had money. Don't we all? I don't really care about fancy cars or technology for the most part. I care about freedom. I want to be able to see the world! I want my whole family to enjoy their homes more because they're not in debt for them. I want to be able to afford the time to put into volunteer work and helping those who have less than I do.  I want to cruise around town on a motorcycle, turning heads and feeling like a cool kid. These are things I cannot currently do, for the most part, while I'm struggling to keep my head above water as it is. Sad stories. But what can I do? I CAN make the most of what I do have. I CAN get crafty and make some of the unique clothes/home decorations I want. I CAN be enthusiastic about the adventures I do get to have, even if they're local. And I can dream about finding a boyfriend with a bike. haha. Yes, even the infamous boy-hating Haylee dreams of such things. Frontliners might not believe it. ;)

Sunday I watched with interest, as per usual, as we sent out missionaries. I love to hear of all the great things they're doing for humankind and for the Kingdom. However, as petty as it is, I get a big sad and jealous. I know I do things that are important. I know I've led people to Christ or just helped them out in small ways with the problems of life. But every once in awhile I feel like my life is a tiny cubbyhole I've shoved myself into and can't get out of--am I here because it's what I want, or am I here because I'm lazy? I go back and forth. It's hard to determine for sure because despite restlessness and the occasional bout of melancholy, I have grown to be a very joyful person. I was wondering aloud about a few people who don't seem to like me very much, and my friend Sharon replied without pause "Because you're happy." And don't we hate happy people when we're miserable? Generally, yeah. That's how it tends to go, whether you'll admit it or not. 

Ugh, I feel like I'm rambling. It's just that there's so much I've been feeling lately that I don't even know how to express it all. Sometimes, looking around, I feel like "the least of these" among everyone in my acquaintance. Not the prettiest, not the smartest, far from being the richest, not the most talented--I feel 'outcooled' constantly. I just want to do and be so much more. For the longest time I've felt like God's got me in this resting/waiting season, building me up for something, but is that really the case or am I just making excuses? The inbetweens are my least favorite locale. One day I'll make an impact. I don't want fame, really. I wouldn't care about money if it wasn't essential to my freedom. I don't know. Maybe I'm not making any sense.

And everywhere I turn, everyone's asking if I have a boyfriend or telling me I need a man. I mean, I wouldn't turn a good thing down, but they all seem to think that's going to fix my life. I think that is far from the case. If marriage and housewifery became my driving sense of purpose, I wouldn't be me anymore. I'd be Stepford Haylee. And maybe that's an attractive possibility to some people--buuuut they can shove their expectations. haha.

Anywho, the whole missionary thing actually made me really sad for like a day. Then...Yesterday was both unremarkable and gloriously wonderful. I only got three hours of sleep (which possibly provided the adrenaline rush that helped create such productivity), but I got so much done. I worked 5am-10:45am, went to the bank, worked out for an hour, tanned (and got a mini-nippy-nap in the process), bought groceries, and cooked a really nice Southern dinner (pork chops fried in a sauce I created, my own version of squash casserole, green beans, and baby carrots simmered in brown sugar). Then I went back out with Whitteny and bought some things we needed for the apartment. And it's funny how simple those things were because they gave me such a satisfied feeling. I think they made me realize that I'm actually turning into an adult. I take care of my responsibilities and look out for my family and friends. I work with my hands and create something wonderful. And I think that God really shows up in those domestic moments, to say "hey, you're doing okay." 

Additionally, Colton reminded me of a few years ago when I made "Bad Day Bags" for the mission trippers (to be opened on discouraging or difficult days during the mission trip, duh)--they contained fun little games, bubbles, and a page-long letter for each of the 40 or so members of the team. It was a fun labor of love, but I haven't done it since. I guess I forgot that anyone cared. And when he mentioned it, I felt so happy and accomplished. I've decided to do it again. Maybe the Father does have me on the bench--but (and I realize how gay this sounds) that doesn't mean I can't cheer for my team, get them water, and help ease the load in behind the scenes kind of ways. I guess it's just my turn for it.