I'm not a thief, but I am annoyed....

My job involves planning large events. Most of the time they are out of state, but once a year there is a big to-do here in town and I am in charge of getting the supplies for it. Last May I was preparing for such an event, which involved buying cases of water for the attendees. I would run into the local Wal-mart, where the greeter at the front door is a kind older man from my church. On one of these occasions, I bought 15 cases of water. Rather than go through self-checkout, as I normally do, I went to a cashier thinking it would be easier (I wouldn't have to put every case over the scanner, or even one case 15 times). She rang me up, I paid, took my receipt, and went on my merry way. When I got to the door, the greeter just waved. He didn't ask to see my receipt -- this in itself isn't all that odd, they don't always make you show a receipt, and after all, he knew me from church.

When I got to my car and started to unload -- I noticed the cashier had only charged me for 14 cases. So I unloaded the rest and went in to pay for the other case. As I passed the greeter, he gave me a confused look. "Small mistake," I said, and went back to the cashier, she added the case to my bill, I paid again, problem solved. Right?

Not so much. See, now, every time I go to Wal-mart (which is every week -- I do my grocery shopping there), there stands the same greeter. And every time he says, "Now the last time you were in here, you assured me that everything was paid for and then you came back in all red-faced because you'd missed something." The first time he said that, I was honestly confused as to why he was bringing it up. He went on to tell me, "Now, you make sure you pay for everything so you don't have to be red-faced." Um, whatever.

First of all, I came back. I wasn't legally but rather morally obligated, and only because I happened to look over my receipt. I don't always do that, to be honest. Second, I wasn't upset -- 14 instead of 15 is an easy enough mistake to make, and I fixed it with little trouble. Also, I have a red face. I just do -- if it was any redder, it was likely from the heat of the spring day or moving 15 cases of water into my trunk, not from embarrassment. And finally... He says the same thing EVERY WEEK. "Now the last time you came in here...." It was six months ago! And I was not the one who forgot to pay. I wasn't deliberately trying to steal a $15 case of water from Wal-mart. Seriously, move on.

As I will, now that I have ranted.

"Here's the story..."

Last week my cousin E came to visit me at work. He wanted to tell me in person that he and his girlfriend, L, were engaged. I was truly elated at this news -- though I knew it was coming, I still couldn't be happier. They have been together nearly 3 1/2 years, and rarely have I seen a couple so well-matched. And I honestly like her. How could I not? She's a lot like me.

Always with news of this variation comes a slight twinge of envy. This is E's first girlfriend ever, and looks to be his last. They met the first week of college. I had always hoped that my love story would be so simple -- that I would meet the right one and that would just be it. Alas, 'tis not so in every life. And certainly not in mine.

I often find myself thinking that the reason I am not in a relationship, that I have never really been in one, is that I want it so badly. It's hard to explain -- it's like how women who really want children can't have them, yet the ones who don't want them, or couldn't really care one way or the other, are reproducing like bunnies. It's the sure unfairness of life -- all I ever wanted was to fall in love and get married. No career ambitions, no burning desire to travel the world or sow my wild oats before settling down. I just wanted a man to love me, and a stable family life. And most of the time it seems that this very desire is the main reason I cannot have it.

I'm not disappointed with my life. I have a great job, great friends, a house I love (and own) and the car I've always wanted. These are the things I can actually do something about. But my love life? How do you make that one work? I am surrounded by well-meaning friends who offer advice. Advice I loath but accept as I remind myself that they love me and want me to be happy. But really, how is any of it helpful? I hear often that you need to "put yourself out there," whatever that means. Ironically this advice comes from those who have never really had to put themselves anywhere -- they were pursued by their true loves. One friend who is fond of this mantra told me she had to put herself out there because she and her husband were set up. I think she forgets that I was there -- she was dating someone else, she and her nowhusband became friends and she broke up with previously mentioned boyfriend for nowhusband. She hasn't been single since I have known her -- when we were in our early teens.

The other piece of advice I get that drives me crazy is that "you have to stop looking and then it'll happen." For starters, this completely contradicts the "put yourself out there" thing but is equally nonsensical. I haven't been "looking" for 10 years. And I haven't found anything either.

The truth is, I have to wonder if it's me. I'm rather fond of everything I am, and I know I am likeable. But the idea that someone would be attracted to me has become a preposterous concept -- I have so many guy friends, it's weird to think of a guy wanting me. At all. Does this add up to low self-esteem or just the realization that I'm not that kind of girl? I don't know. It's hard to pinpoint. There is just the frustration that never quite goes away -- you can't have what you want, so stop wanting it.

Ah, look at all the lonely people...

Why are there so many lonely characters named Elinor, and why do I identify with them?

I have a wonderful family I'm close to, the best friends anyone could ever ask for, and I'm generally a happy person. But -- and you knew there had to be a but -- I've always felt like I understood the Eleanor Rigbys and the Elinor Dashwoods of the world. Those with the greatest capacity for love, and no one to really share it all with.

I'm smart, creative, and quite silly most of the time. But there are times when I am reflective, pensive. And that's why I created this blog. An outlet, a place to let my inner Elinor out.