Oh, %#*#@!!!

The other day I received an email from my girlfriend and she told me about her rotten day. Later she forwarded an email she received from her company's email techies -- seems they frown on using expletives on the company email. It is such a part of my vernacular that I didn't even notice it in the email.

I know better. I was taught (by parents, teachers, adults I admire)that swearing was unladylike and a cross between laziness and ignorance. I failed that lesson and I fail it often. (Although I am extremely careful around children and in business situations.)

There's an article in this week's Time magazine that quotes a study in the journal NeuroReport. The study found that cussing does more than vent frustration; it can actually reduce physical pain. The example used is women giving birth are far more likely to blurt out a choice cuss word -- or a string of them -- when the same woman would never use such language on a regular basis.

In a moment of complete insanity, I volunteered to serve as liturgist in church this Sunday. My recurring nightmare is flubbing something and then dropping the F bomb.

I won't. But my peon brain is having a party making me think about the possibility. I'd really hate to have to find a new church.

Endless Possibilities

Remember earlier this spring when I wrote about wanting to be "In Bloom?"

Perhaps I might really be a Pollyanna. Although lots of people bother to tell me I am not. Confused? I am. But in a really good way.

I am seeing blessings and possibilities everywhere. And I am grateful.

My marriage is ending. It's been a huge chunk of my adult life -- I'm 46 and I started dating my husband when I was 27. Sure I'm sad but mostly I'm grateful for what we had and the ability to move on.

I still don't have the job of my dreams but through the occasional frustration I realize that more opportunities are coming my way every day. I've had some good interviews and some doors opening.

I've spent the last several months living with my parents and I would not trade the experience for anything. It is not for sissies! You better know yourself and have a darned good relationship before you climb aboard that boat. Lucky for me, the relationship I remembered from my childhood was a dim comparison to the one that has resurfaced.

Before you barf from the "good time Sheri" comments, I will admit that the dog gets a little damp sometimes. She's my occasional cry pillow but that's the price she pays for getting to sleep in the bed.

I'm enjoying reconciling things in my mind and my heart. I see love and enduring friendships. I see God at work in my life.

I'm not married; I'm not single.
I'm not young; I'm not old.
I'm not rich; I'm not poor.

I'm in the in-between spaces, wallowing in the in-between places and I'm loving the possibilities.