(while coloring)

kid: are you married?

me: no, i’m not married.

kid: oh….do you have kids?

me: nope, i don’t have kids. 

kid: are you divorced?

me: (oh jeez, here we go…) yes, i am divorced.

kid: so…if you were married, why don’t you have kids?

me: i wasn’t married long enough to have kids.

kid: you know what you need to do?

me: (oh boy…) what?

kid: you need to get on singles.com

me: (barf. if you only knew…) what would happen if I got on singles.com?

kid: you would get a date.

me: (laugh) I would? Where did you learn about singles.com?

kid: from the movies. my aunt is single with no kids and i tell her she needs to get on singles.com too. she needs to go on a date.

me: (dear Jesus, how did my life get to such a place that i’m getting dating advice from a 2nd grader?!) well, i’ll think about it. 

kid: good…and then let me know if you get a date.

i have been sick for approximately 8 days. i have gone through two extra large bottles of Day and Nyquil (one bottle each), have barely slept through the night in over a week and have ungodly amounts of snot exiting my body via my nose and lungs. i can’t take out the trash without succumbing to a coughing fit that would put someone with end-stage emphysema to shame. not that i’m bragging… 

i have been on antibiotics for 4 days…and, between you and me, i don’t think they’re working. so today i took matters into my own hands and bought a neti pot- a nasal irrigation apparatus. yep. i dragged my sick self down to Whole Foods Body and listened to a dude give me the whole spiel about “not putting tap water in the neti pot…only distilled or boiled water…blah blah blah.” i paid a small fortune for a neti pot, a gallon of distilled water, and pharmaceutical-grade salt and somehow made my way home through the cold medicine fog i’ve been residing in lately. 

i got home, googled “how to use a neti pot” and watched a few videos on the correct way to prepare and use a neti pot (*note*- all videos and articles articulated the dangers of using tap water in neti pots due to the fact that 2 people in Louisiana died in 2011 because they used contaminated tap water in their neti pots). i felt ready to give the neti pot a shot:

i poured in the proper amount of salt.

i filled the neti pot with warm tap water.

i poured the entire contents of the tap-filled neti pot into my sinus cavities.

i realized the horror of what i had done approximately 2 seconds after i used the ENTIRE contents of a tap-filled neti pot. what the hell is wrong with me?!!!!

in my cold-medicine stupor i had done EXACTLY what google told me not to do. my next step? i googled “what do you do when you accidentally use tap water in your neti pot?”…and it brought up all the articles about the 2 people that died in Louisiana from the contaminated tap water. dammit. 

so…here i am…still have a cold…and possibly a deadly amoeba floating around my sinus/brain. neti pots are awesome. i’m so glad i got one and educated myself on how to properly use it. if i’m dead in the next week, in lieu of flowers, please give monetary donations to Daystar Ministries (we’ve just kicked off a growing campaign to add on to our building and i think a Tracy Kouns wing is just the kind of thing they need around there). oh, and Kathleen Kouns gets full custody of Miss Dottie. 

hopefully this won’t be the last time you hear from me. 

tlk

i’ve never been a big TV-watcher so i completely missed the series, Lost. i remember hearing about it or, rather, hearing that people were completely obsessed with it but i had never seen an episode until last weekend. my boss lent me season 1 and i started watching it…and i could. not. stop. i watched season 1 in its entirety in three days. here are a few of my thoughts about the show thus far:

1. holy. crap. the show is TOTALLY freaking me out. there was actually a night i barely slept, convinced that Ethan was hiding under my bed. no, i am not kidding.

2. are Jack and Kate EVER going to get together?!! i mean, they have already dragged it out over one season. what is with her infatuation with Sawyer? dumb. note to producers: less scary, more romance. 

3. i really wish Dwight Shrute was a character on the show. he would tear. it. up.

4. really?!!! Walt gets kidnapped? really?!

5. i think if i were on the island, i wouldn’t want to be rescued. for real.

I told my therapist about #5 last week— that if i were on the island, i wouldn’t want to be rescued. “I’d want to stay,” i told him. “I’d be so curious what the island would have to say to me.” of course, i realize i’m saying this as an observer of the island. if i were really on a scary mysterious island with Ethan popping out from behind trees, i’d probably want to get the heck out of dodge. but as i watch the series, i find myself wanting to be on the island. and so i told this to my therapist, J. 

and he said i AM on an island, just a different one than they’re on. 

and that’s when the lightbulb went on. i am lost. and i want to be on any island but the one i’m on. i’ve tried every freaking way that i can think of to be rescued, to escape, to get. off. this. island.

and i can’t. and i haven’t really even bothered to listen to what the ‘Island’ has to say to me. 

………………………….

our next session J and i processed our previous conversation about Lost. i told him that it was strangely calming to realize that i am, indeed, lost; that that realization left me feeling completely settled for nearly a day. 

J: so in realizing you were lost, you felt settled. 

me: yes. and i wasn’t expecting that feeling. i thought it would be more terrifying.

J: ‘settled’ is a word i usually associate with home. it seems like you were able to see, for perhaps the first time, that being lost and being at home, being found, are not as different as you thought. 

we went on to discuss the thought that so much of ‘religious’ culture teaches us that there is a huge chasm between those who are lost and those who are not; you are deemed one or the other. no wonder i have hated being on the island…for it has meant that i am still lost. but what if i can be lost and found at the same time? maybe being lost is not the thing to be afraid of anymore. 

“Did you know that we are all lost?”, J asked. “Not many people in religious circles are willing to admit this. They are ok acknowledging that they were ONCE lost, but very few are willing to admit they are still are, that the ‘Island’ still has something to say to them. i would imagine this is one of the reasons you have been feeling so alone: you are realizing you are still lost while surrounded by people who do not acknowledge that they are as well”. 

he said what i had been feeling for a long time. and it was a relief.

Hi. my name is Tracy and i’m lost…

tlk

i have officially decided to stop using ‘I need’ statements at Home Depot. the major reason— somehow EVERYTHING i say ends up sounding like an innuendo:

“Where do i need to go to get some caulk?”

“Hello sir, i need to mulch my yard.” 

“Can you point to the light bulbs? I need to replace mine.”

“I need to have my way with a man in the break room ASAP because i’m ovulating!!”

(ok, maybe not that last one…but i have noticed a strange correlation between my Home Depot trips and my ovulations…maybe my subconscious is taking over and these ‘innuendos’ aren’t exactly accidental. oh great.) 

but really, i’m tired of getting strange looks from men…and i’m also tired of wondering when i fell out of the innuendo loop. i used to know them all, but my Home Depot experiences are beginning to make me wonder. why do men stare at me weirdly when i tell them i need to ‘stain my deck’? is that an innuendo? if so, someone tell me…and then explain what it means!

from here on out, i’m just going to ask where items are. i am no longer telling Home Depot men what i will need the items for…unless they specifically ask…and they are super hot ;)

all for now,

tlk

sooo…let’s just say that my Match experience thus far has been pretty underwhelming. part of this has been my fault (i.e. agreeing to meet up with Pal because he was so weird i wanted to see what he was like in person) and part of it has been that there aren’t a whole lot of normal people on Match right now—at least, normal people who fit my criteria. my criteria being: a normal man that i am attracted to.

a few weeks ago i was at a birthday party and the conversation turned to ‘worst first dates’. i felt a bit jealous that i didn’t really have a horror story to share but considered myself lucky that i had never been on a terrible first date.

i now have a ‘worst first date’ story. and i wish i didn’t.

i agreed to a dinner date with Pal. i knew there wasn’t going to be a love connection—i mean, i can only handle so many palindromes—but my curiosity got the better of me and i wanted to see what he was like out in the real world. i figured, if nothing else, it could produce an interesting blog post. we met at a local pub and a few minutes after finding a table the conversation turned to work…

me: so, what do you do for a living?

Pal: i manually stimulate large caged animals for reproductive purposes.

me: (choke on my drink) wait, i’m sorry, i don’t think i heard that right. what is it that you do?

Pal: i manually stimulate large caged animals for reproductive purposes.

me: (no no no, please no.) you mean, like, tigers?

Pal: yep.

me: (breathe, continue to breathe) wow…that’s a pretty ‘unique’ field. how did you get involved in that line of work?

Pal: well, my high school guidance counselor told me to do something that i enjoyed. and, growing up, i had a dog that i always liked making happy.

me: (check please)…

Pal: …(laughs hysterically) I’m just kiddin’!! I work at a rock quarry about an hour away.

me: (abort mission immediately)

the date went downhill from there, if that’s even possible. the man CLEARLY didn’t know how to be appropriate around a woman. he used the phrase ‘jacking your beanstalk’ at least 5 times throughout the evening. As in: “i don’t understand how people get bored! i mean, there’s the internet, you can jack your beanstalk, you can call a friend…”. i’m not kidding. i wish i was. i mean, what kind of person incorporates ‘jacking your beanstalk’ into conversation that many times?!! ladies and gentlemen, i give you Pal.

in addition to the numerous ‘jacking your beanstalks’ Pal also informed me (on four different occasions) that i was not fun. i wanted to tell him it was because of his bizarre serial-killer personality. i knew i wasn’t being very fun. i was TOTALLY creeped out and all i wanted to do was get the hell out of there, which i eventually did 2 hours later. Pal wanted to go on a second date. my response: non! 

Lessons learned:

• don’t EVER go on a date just because you are curious about how weird someone is. Not. Worth. It.
• when i feel uncomfortable/creeped out, i’m not very fun.
• i have a hard time getting up and leaving in the middle of a date—even when the man is grossly inappropriate. i will be addressing this in therapy. 
• when a man says he’s ‘better over text’—believe him, for God’s sake, and run the other direction.

……………………………………..

my other Match dates have been alright, but nothing great. i’d place them in the ‘ho-hum’ category as opposed to the ‘please-make-it-stop!!’ category, in which Pal holds the #1 spot. i usually have good conversations with the guys, but there’s zero chemistry. if any of them had tried to kiss me, i’d have given them the cheek—and that’s not gonna work for either party. 

after a two week hiatus, i’ve begun talking with a couple other men, but am pacing myself. when i first started on match, i went on three dates in one weekend (one of which was with Pal) and pretty much burned myself out. so i’m taking it slow.

we’ll see where that takes me…

tlk

it’s official. on september 9th, a new family member was born. he is super cute (obviously), super chill (when he’s fed and his diaper is dry), and super cool (because he has Kouns blood running through his veins). 

i went to Florida last weekend to meet him and spend time with the family. it was a great visit. i think i might be his favorite aunt so far…but my younger sister would *probably* fight me on that one. whatever. everyone has their own reality. 

what i do know for certain is that i am smitten. here are more pictures of the baby child. enjoy.

(sigh).

-proud Aunt T-Bone

sooo…turns out Match is quite hoppin’. there are multiple ways that men can interact with you: winking, favoriting, e-mailing, instant messaging, and listing you as an ‘interest’. between you and me, it’s a bit overwhelming. i log in to check the e-mails and winks i’ve received and 4 guys will IM me at the same time. don’t get me wrong, it’s nice to have men interested in me…but I kind of feel like the Bachelorette, juggling multiple male suitors all vying for my attention.

at this point, I am involved in 2 texting relationships (which is a totally weird concept, for me) and today I went on my first Match date. 

one of my texting relationships has proven to be rather disappointing. It’s with a guy i’ll refer to as Pal from here on out. Pal was witty and fun over IM and asked if he could have my number, so i gave it to him. after the phone number exchange, our IM conversation went something like this:

Pal: thanks for your number. you seem really cool. i’d love to hear the sound of your voice.

me: thanks.

Pal: …but i’m actually better over text.

me: (what the?!) oh, ok. well, to be honest, i have a short attention span when it comes to texting. i’d rather talk, either on the phone or in person.

Pal:……….. 

…………………………………………

The next day I got a text from Pal that said:

Pal: Go hang a salami, i’m a lasagna hog.

me: i have absolutely no idea what that means. is that some kind of football thing?

Pal: it’s a Palandrome! I love texting those things.

me: (oh jeez…). oh! i had no idea that was your thing.

Pal: A man, a plan, a canal: Panama. 

me: …………

Pal: Hey do you wanna met up and watch the Titans game? I’m sitting at a great bar!

me: (hmm…i wonder why this man is 40 and still single…) 

and it went on like that for forever way too long. him palandroming away and me barely responding, regretting that i gave him my number in the first place. Pal wants to meet up for a drink…so far we haven’t had time in our schedules. i’m beginning to think i will NEVER have time in my schedule. this morning i woke up and he had texted me: “A tin mug for a jar of gum, Nita.” i still have not responded.

………………………………………..

in other Match news, today i went on my first date. we met for brunch. i got to pick the place and i chose a great restaurant with $15 bottomless mimosas. i was interested in the guy but, honestly, the thought of bottomless mimosas was what really got my heart fluttering. i arrived and my date announced that he was feeling a bit ‘under the weather’…which translates into “i have a runny nose and don’t plan on drinking alcohol today”. my heart skipped a beat, and not in a good way. i spent the rest of the date nursing a room temperature water trying to decipher the speech of a man who was clogged up with snot. 

snotty: wudid you thing aboud the domado fesdival last weeged?

me: (sigh…) what did i think about the….oh! the tomato festival! what did i think about the tomato festival last weekend? actually, i didn’t go.

snotty: oh, thads do bad.

me: (good LORD i could really use a mimosa)…yeah…

it actually wasn’t a bad date; i’d say it was a good first online dating experience. but on the chemistry scale of 1-10, he scored a solid zero. 

So, that’s the week in review. no soulmate but it has only been a week. for now, i will continue on my search!

sooo…i decided to join Match.com…(gasp!)

i know, alright? it goes against EVERYTHING I believe in about meeting someone organically, feeling chemistry and eventually falling in love. but i’m doing it anyway. because i was watching a documentary on A&E (lord HELP me, they have addictive shows on that network) about the world’s largest man.

he weighs approximately 1,300 lbs.

and he has a girlfriend. 

a man who is roughly the size of a large bike shed is getting more action than i am and i find this absolutely unacceptable. 

so i filled out my profile and kept it as real as i could. i’d rather lay it all out there and weed out the weirdo’s and guys who have nothing more to say about themselves than: “i’m a laid back kind of guy who wants to find a sweet girl he can treat right.” barf. you would not believe how many guys say this. not that there is anything wrong with a laid back guy who wants to treat me right. but, really? that’s the best you can do? 

Match.com is rather complex…there is a lot to keep track of. (note: i still have my five-year-old razar flip phone so most technological things are a bit beyond my comfort zone). i prefer to fly slightly under the radar, but they make that damn near impossible…and i guess that’s a good thing since the whole point is to meet my soulmate. or at least go out on a date. 

i’ll be blogging about any dates that are worth mentioning. i know there are a lot of weirdos on Match, so part of me is looking forward to sitting back and letting the good times roll. 

i’ll keep you posted…

tlk

“The time when there is nothing at all in your soul except a cry for help may be just the time when God can’t give it to you….Perhaps your own reiterated cries deafen you to the voice you hoped to hear….You must have the capacity to receive, or even omnipotence can’t give.”  - C.S. Lewis, A Grief Observed

when i was just out of college, i worked at a camp in Florida and had a walkie talkie for the summer. one day i lost my walkie talkie in a large theater on campus and after searching unsuccessfully for it for about 30 minutes, i borrowed a co-worker’s walkie talkie. i figured that if I held down the ‘push-to-talk’ button and talked nonstop into the walkie talkie while walking around the theater, i would eventually hear my own voice coming from my missing walkie. brilliant idea, right? not so much…I talked for about 10 minutes into that stupid walkie and didn’t find a thing. when i finally let the button go i heard my boss’s voice coming from the walkie in my hand telling me to meet her out in front of the theater. so i did. and there she stood holding my missing walkie in her hand. “You were so busy talking,” she said, “that you didn’t let go of the button long enough for me to tell you that i had your walkie talkie out here with me.” ouch. lesson learned. 

kind of. 

it seems i’ve been doing the same thing with God, as of late. i’ve been afraid God has forgotten me, or doesn’t know what my heart longs for, or what i’m fearful of…and when i found out my dad is sick it put me over the edge into a state of panic and all i could do was cry out in desperation…

…help…help…Help…..Help…..HELP….HHEEELLLLLLLLPP!! HHEEEELLLLLLLLLLPPPP!!!!!!!!HHHHHEEEEEEEELLLLLLPPPPP!!!!!!! CAN’T YOU HEAR ME??!!!! WHY AREN’T YOU DOING ANYTHING???!!!!

until my throat was raw and i couldn’t speak anymore. until i couldn’t, didn’t even want to, ask for help any longer. afraid that it didn’t even matter anyway. 

and then, in Sedona, i read C.S. Lewis’ words and my panic was rendered silent and still. in my terror i’d been holding down the ‘push-to-talk’ button as if my life depended on it, afraid that if i stopped begging for help it would never come. but my cries had deafened me to the one Voice i had been hoping to hear. my frantic pinings had left room for no one but me. 

“You must have the capacity to receive, or even omnipotence can’t give.”

i can’t fully explain what happened next, but it felt like something physical shifted inside my chest. a space inside of me widened, broadened, deepened. and i felt that i had a capacity to hold more than i have felt able to in a long time. 

i’d love to say that God immediately entered into that space and filled it. but God didn’t. and instead of shaking my fist at the sky, i spent the rest of my trip feeling completely at peace. i spent a lot of time climbing large rocks, watching the sky and the sunset. nothing much has changed externally. but instead of doubling over and screaming into a cosmic walkie talkie, i have assumed a posture where I am sitting still. with my palms open. waiting expectantly. ready to receive from the omnipotent One. 

tlk