There was a girl in the land of...

Sometimes I wonder what the story of Job would sound like if it took place in Holladay, Utah  in 2013. 

There was a girl in the land of Utah, whose name was Jordan; and that woman was perfect and upright, and one that feared God, and eschewed evil. 1:2 And there were not born unto her seven sons and three daughters (If there had been, that would have been pretty scandalous). 1:3 Her substance was seven thousand dollars every two months (if you don't count tax withholdings), and three thousand calories every 2 days (if she's sticking to her diet), and five hundred bottles of beer on the wall (if she weren't LDS), and five hundred she donkeys (because she doesn't swear), and a very great townhouse apartment with a master bedroom and a twin bed, so the room seems bigger, and a walking closet filled with boxes of evidence of college learning that she'd like to burn so moving is little easier next time she does it; so that this woman was the greatest of all the women of the midwest living in Utah because that's wear she found a job after she graduated. 1:4 

...And the LORD said unto Satan, Hast thou considered my servant Jordan, that there is none like her in the earth, a perfect and an upright woman, one that feareth God, and escheweth evil? and still she holdeth fast her integrity, although she doesn't have much success with men, and she still flirts like she's in junior high school (she doesn't get out much). 

I've been told by the people at work (who aren't LDS), "Gee, you're an intellignt, capable woman, but when you start talking boys, you sound like you're 14." 

Here's the trouble: I am 14. 

I've got less practice dating than my 13 year old students. They have kissed more boys and held more hands in the last three weeks than I have in the last three years.

A boy called me pretty and I believe he meant it. This is the first time in my recorded history that this has happened. Why don't we say nice things to each other more often? Maybe if we made each other feel good, we'd want to spend time with each other. I know why I don't make anyone feel good (I'm a jerk!)--making others feel good makes you vulnerable. I don't want anyone to know I think they're neat, because if I think they're neat and they think I'm neat for thinking it, I'd have to work at creating a rewarding, long-lasting relationship with them, and that's the worst thing EVER!

I find myself lying to my students about dates I didn't go on when they ask about my weekend. Is this normal? Does anyone else do this? 

"Ms. Reasor, how was your weekend?" 

"It was great, thank you, I made brownies with a friend."

"With your boyfriend?"

"Which boyfriend?"

"Ms. Reasor! Were you with a boy?"

"Nope, I'm a complete social failure. But, sometimes, I wear the pants (ironically I never wear pants) and ask boys to spend time with me. Every once in a while he brings his wallet."

I've had this conversation many times. Every Monday actually. But, I can never bring myself to scare the children with the truth that is my life. Because, for whatever reason, I get the vibe that everyone is worried that I don't date much. It's embarrassing to me that they're embarrassed for me. So, I usually end up saying something like, "I made brownies with Ben."

"Ooh! Your boyfriend's name is Ben!"

"Yes it is and we're getting married. Now, get out your canvas and start painting." 

On a more positive note: God helps you forget about things that can sting if you think about them too much. So, I've got no real beef with my dating history. I do cool stuff, and I know a lot, and that's probably all I need to get me through this life (post-life is another story. I'd be pretty ticked if everything they ever said about getting a chance in the next life was all some prank). 

I went on a date.

I went on a date with a boy who touched me. Should I really be surprised that a boy would touch me? I know I've spent much of my life putting off a "back up off me, buddy" vibe. I recognize that this has been a contributing factor to my inability to create a positive dating experience for myself. 

On my first real date with a real man who really liked me, we sat on the front row at a concert and all I can remember is running a prayer on cycle through my brain, "I like him, but don't let him touch me.I like him, but don't let him touch me." 

My last boyfriend (I use generic phrases like these as white lies as well) told me once that when he planned to hold my hand, he was devastated that I suddenly hated him. He was right! Or, he read my body language correctly. Fortunately (for the sake of my having ever dated anybody in my adult life), his solution was to call me up and talk some sense into me. "I think you're pretty amazing and I want to date you." 

"You WHAT?!" 

So, I gave the knucklehead a chance, and it was OK except for the fact that we really didn't like each other much after a few months. And then he got married (all good stories end in this phrase). 

I went on a date with a boy who put his hand on my back, gave me a real hug, stood close to me--He made me feel pretty without having to say it. I wonder if I speak for most girls when I say that when a boy is super distant our go-to place is, "Dang, am I that ugly?" 

I'm not ugly. I have a fantastic natural hair color that most professional hair stylists envy. I once had a crowd of 8 different stylists surround me and discuss the color of my hair and how to recreate it. The group consensus was that it wasn't possible, and even though it would cost them a hundred nucks every time I walked through the door, I should NEVER dye my hair. These gatherings are always pretty comical in retrospect, because I never have my glasses on, so I'm as blind as a bat. 

I know a boy who is a complete fool around me.  You know what?! I love that guy. I can't count the number of times he's made my day. He seems pretty well-composed, and then I walk by, and he just falls apart. If I were to marry him, I'd request he continue to trip on himself, throw whatever he's carrying on the floor, and stumble on his words until the day I die, because every time he does something embarrassing I think, "I've still got it!" And I'm sure it's not too terrible for him anyhow.

My seventh graders ask me once a day to share a "failure" story. They think it's pretty funny that I did a lot of stupid stuff, and that all my failure stories have no resolution--they leave the listener wanting. They're favorite is the following: 

Once upon a time there was a girl named Jordan. She was a tenth grader in high school. Her best friend made her try out for the volleyball team, but because she was the ambitious type, she decided to try out for varsity, so that she'd impress the coaches with her "hard work and determination." She trained all summer to run the mile in under 7:30 and she got to 7:56. The run was rained out and rescheduled. She missed the second go, because she was too embarrassed to walk out with the varsity folk to run her race, and got cut from the team entirely.

I like to imagine myself as Rex Kwon Do lecturing:

See here, boys. Life isn't all guns and roses (If you know me well, you know I always use my phrases incorrectly). Every day I wake up and I say to myself, "Self, today you'll be a failure."

I like this speech because it also has no conclusion and leaves the listener wanting. If I were a nice Rex I might add:

But that doesn't mean that you're actually a failure.

I knew a boy once. He went on a mission. Then he came home, and I learned love isn't magic. And sometimes, for whatever reason, time isn't on your side. I'm getting better at manning disappointment. I could let it eat me, but I've decided that even if it makes no sense that we had no chance to make a good thing go--God probably has a good idea what he's doing. And at least I still have my cattle (Hey! I never got any cattle!)

That Job fellow was a pretty lucky guy.