Good news, ladies

http://news.yahoo.com/s/ap/20070522/ap_on_sc/virgin_births_sharks

Sunday morning

Today I went back to the same cafe I went to last week, and was greeted by the same friendly waitress. I enjoyed some delicious guava juice (this stuff is amazing!) and breakfast, and thought about how the not-going-to-church crowd does Sunday morning. What if my Sundays involved the New York Times crossword puzzle, eggs, and friendly chats with strangers, rather than singing hymns in a pew? For me, it would be less meaningful, but breaking routine, slowing down, taking time to enjoy God's gifts (I'm telling you - go get some guava juice now), these too are important ways to observe Sabbath.

The other side of the counter

I've been fluctuating in and out of singlehood for the past few months, but I've fallen firmly into that category again. After church on Sunday, I went to a Brazilian cafe in Ames to have a little breakfast. I sat at the bar by myself and had a snack, and a chat with an unusually friendly waitress. Before I knew it, I was telling her all about my plans for the day.

I used to think that people would think I was kind of sad or pathetic for eating alone in public, but having worked at the coffee shop for a few months, I've realized that it's actually quite common. As a barista, I actually like it when people sit alone at the bar and strike up a conversation with me, it makes the shift go faster, and makes me feel like more of a human being than a coffee serving machine. It's a different kind of conversation than the small talk you have with your fast food server, with whom you have only a few moments to make some weather-related commentary. The owner of the coffee shop not only knows her patrons' names and drink preferences, she also knows all about their lives. It's almost too much like family at times, however - a fellow barista spent some time in the hospital, and upon his return, I can't tell you how many regulars greeted him with, "So how are the kidney stones?"

Today, I am a woman

I'm not sure exactly what it was, but this weekend gave me the suspiscion that I am now an adult.

Perhaps it was because, as the weekend of my students' year end recitals, it was also my first public appearance as "Ms. Kim, the piano teacher." Though my students regularly mouth off to me, and address me as a fellow 3rd grader, when the pressure of the recital was on, they looked to me to be in charge. Little Ellie stopped in the middle of her piece, after a wrong note. She looked over at me and mouthed, "What do I do now?" I wanted to mouth back, "Why are you looking at ME??" But the correct response, of course, was "Keep going." Then, after a second mishap: "Start it again."

It didn't really hit me, though, until Sunday morning. My church is under construction, and the parking lot was a maze of cones and orange fences. I finally gave up driving through the mess, and decided to try to walk to the temporary entrance (wherever it was), but I was tired and stressed out from the difficult weekend, and soon got disoriented in the massive church complex. It was raining and disgusting out, and I could feel my face forming a great big pout. I wanted to go home and get back in bed. This was stupid! And no fair! Stupid stupid rain! Dumb old construction! Suddenly, outloud, I heard myself say "Oh, grow up" and in no time I had found the correct entrance.

Adulthood comes gradually, and it's sneaky as can be, but eventually it catches up with you!