Hello friends. It’s been a while since I’ve sent salutations via the blogosphere, and for that I apologize (but only slightly, because some things in life are more important than blogging). Life is, as usual, mostly good. Some of the thoughts running through my head at the moment aren’t suited very well for Internet discussion, but I’d love to chit-chat about them over a mug of tea or a swing ride or a walk through the river valley. I did lots of working, learning, biking, listening, dating, reading, and praying over the summer, and while I kind of miss the carefree nights and lovely moments spent outdoors, it seems fitting to move into a new season. I’m excited for this fresh term of school, another semester spent with C&Cers, new music and movies and TV, learning more about God, and a job that I love. The summer brought about some changes, which have made life a bit more full and interesting. Donald Miller writes about how change is vital because a shift from our “normal” lives gives us perspective to see how “un-normal” our lives are. It’s easy to take the little (and big) blessings for granted when they look the same everyday, so I’ve found that changing up my routines and priorities is healthy (although as Crystal will tell you, I like little changes, but big changes are often dreadfully unappealing to me). Life has seemed kind of hectic over the past few weeks with school and work and church things, but c’est la vie when you’re a working student, I suppose. Plus, there’s always time to indulge in some of my favourite things once in a while, whether a bike ride with Hessica, a phone conversation with Matt, or a good read.
It’s rather predictable of me to articulate my love of the impending autumn in a mid-October blog entry, but it’s really too exciting not to. I think that pretty much every season is my favourite season, but fall is undeniably the most beautiful of all the seasons. The sun still provides a warm glow in the afternoon at this time of year, and now that the trees are becoming shot through with warm colours, the world feels cozy and friendly. Walking through the crunchy leaves is so very satisfying and evocative of other autumns in my life. When I think back to autumns of previous years though, it’s easy to see that I’ve come a fair distance in my perspective on myself and the world, and I see steps forward in my walk with God, which is tremendously encouraging. I can be quite egocentric from time to time, and find myself wondering what else I might have to learn about life, but God never fails to humble me and show me that I have a great deal to learn about life. As I get older, it becomes increasingly apparent that the breadth of human knowledge barely scratches the surface of all there is to know. I find that amazing. It’s also reassuring, because I can find great joy and pleasure in learning about and pondering Creation and God for the whole rest of my life, but I can still trust that God knows infinitely more (and better) than me. I read some great books over the summer that were challenging and gave me a lot of food for thought, and am presently reading one by Shane Claiborne that makes me cry it’s so good. If I suddenly become illiterate at some point in my life, it would be enormously tragic. Books never fail to inspire, convict, encourage, and teach me, and I’m grateful for the leisure to read them in.
On the topic of things I’m grateful for, it was Thanksgiving this past weekend, one of those annual holidays that affords one the opportunity to think back on the past year and recognize all the things I have to be thankful for. I spent most of the weekend with both sides of my family, which was lovely. If I grow up to be half as cool as my aunties, uncles, parents, and grandparents, I’ll be pretty insanely cool. Over the years, they’ve learned how to really appreciate the fullness of life, how to love others to the best of their abilities, and how to gain insight and perspective. We had lots of laughs together, along with mountains of food, and I was blessed by our time spent together. Of course, at each of these family get-togethers, Jess was my lovely seating companion, which brings along with it a number of things to be thankful for. For example, did you know that by simply aiming a camera lens in Jess’ general vicinity, she will perform a highly entertaining fit of rage for you? Or that she is always available for discussion of the evolutionary value of berries and orange leaves? Or that she will bake cookies for you on a whim? She does all that, and much more. She’s a wonderful friend, and I’m mucho-grateful for her. Another person who it’s possible that I might potentially want to mention on the topic of my thankfulness is Mr. Matthew Barker. After a while of dating this charming fellow, I’ve conclusively determined that he’s truly lovely, and that I’m awfully lucky to be able to share good talks, pretty music, sporting events, and general shenanigans with him. It’s odd that being with someone could make me so ridiculously happy, but this is certainly the case. I hadn’t really imagined that I’d click with someone like we do, so I feel fortunate to have found that. I could go on and on about Matt, but I’ll leave it at that. I want to keep blogging, but I've decided that it's not quite worth it to go into lengthy thoughts, so blogging might become more of an update on my life. I do enjoy getting my thoughts out in written form, but I think it's good for blogging to be a bit lower on my list of priorities. Keep checking in though, I'm still here! I pray that all of you had restful long weekends, and have cause to be thankful for life’s blessings, both large and trivial.
P.S. I’m thankful for you too. P.P.S. Making puns about being thankful, and being full from Thanksgiving is quite enjoyable, but no one else seems to find them as amusing as I do, so I’ll spare you. P.P.P.S. I started listening to Christmas music this week. It’s rather early, but it’s sooo good.
Some Things that I'm Thankful For - my beautiful work girls and silly boss Dion - bike rides on the leaves lining the streets - graham crackers - exciting municipal elections - green tea with honey (hot or iced) - Matthew 5 (especially in the Message) - pink fridge lights at the café - my admirable shopping restraint - friends who make me laugh and think - the History of Psychology with Leo Mos - warming my blankets with my hairdryer - a chance (albeit slim) of the Eskies making it into the playoffs - live music - new seasons of The Office, Survivor, and Grey's Anatomy - used movies from Rogers - bagel sandwiches with havarti - card games - "Samson" by Regina Spektor - "Fashionable People" by Joel Plaskett - Saturday mornings without work - "Io" by Helen Stellar - "Deportation/Iguazu" by Gustavo Santaolalla - "Be Good or Be Gone" by Fionn Regan - "Love Keep Us Together" by Martin Sexton - "After the Afterlife" by Chad van Gaalen - Botolf the iPod - a new Wes Anderson movie - songs composed and performed by Matt - bunny rabbit mittens - Jess' baking - my blue plaid housecoat - new neighbours - my smart, joyful, and loving family - turkey and pumpkin pie - Steeps being open again - upcoming board game parties - a church that I feel proud to be a part of - watching "Ali G" with Jess and Dad - the death of flies and moths with the autumn cold - Polaroid pictures - my wind-up robot Reginald - CBC Radio
I’ve been a rather negligent blogger since I last informed you all on my thoughts of the ripeness of summer, but I suppose that’s because I’ve been savouring the loveliness of summer (which, I suppose, is the proverbial fruit in my analogy about ripeness). I feel kind of absurd when I blog about things that I’m happy about, because it seems as though I’m just rubbing in how great life is, but I do indulge in grievances here from time to time as well I guess (see: Living in the Tension parts 1 and 2). Thus, I won’t shy away from burbling on about the joys of summer. About 23.81% of my summer has been taken up by work, which is turning out to be better than ever; I have so many coworkers who are deep-down good, in addition to being silly and chatty, and they make me think and laugh and blush every single day. People often underestimate how much mental energy goes into working in a café, and generally assume that we don’t work very hard, but it’s true that my job is pretty peachy keen. I can talk about God and politics and life with them, and we really do love and care about each other oodles and oodles. This makes working for dimes and nickels more than worth it; as aforementioned, I kind of like that I have more reasons to work than just the moolah.
I’ve slowly been chipping away at my list of things to do this summer, although there are still quite a few to be checked off in the next three months. I’ve been doing a fair amount of reading, which is truly one of the best parts of these lazy days, and I’m loving the ability to keep my window open at night so that I can get even more fresh air and wake up to the chirping of the birds that reside in our yard. I am now the proud owner of a blue fighting fish (who isn’t quite as cool as a lizard, so clearly you should let me get a lizard Mom!). My fish seems to enjoy pretending to be dead at random points during the day, and likes to smash his head into rocks at the bottom of his aquarium in a seemingly futile attempt at suicide. I have decided that he is quite similar in personality to a crack cocaine addict going through symptoms of withdrawal, but perhaps as I nurse him back to health, he’ll start to behave in a more sane manner. My fish was formerly known as Ted when he lived at the café, but shall henceforth be known as Ghandi (Matt said that I had to name it a fighting name, so I christened him Ghandi instead; Matt noted that this is also an appropriate name because I didn’t feed Ghandi for an extended period of time when I first got him, which is akin to a hunger strike).
Speaking of this Matt fellow, I have been, as people would colloquially put it, dating him for the past little while. I really think that someone should invent a word that has more meaning and sounds cooler than “dating” because the word seems to suggest that the relationship is based on dates, when really I think it’s best when a relationship is more than just a bunch of dates. However, dating does rhyme whith skating and baiting, so perhaps it’s not so bad after all. Regardless of nomenclature, I’ve officially decided that this whole relationship business is pretty splendid, although it’s mainly Matt that makes it so great. It’s quite absurd how long I can talk to a single person, how wistful I get when we say goodbye (which we’re kind of awful at), how hard someone can make me laugh, and how well I can understand and get along with someone (i.e. Matt). A lot of you blog readers know Matt already, and it feels quite self-indulgent to go into great detail about this in a blog entry, so I’ll limit my effusive depiction of him. He really is a first-rate individual with a good heart, and he cares about people and his faith a great deal. He is also quite silly from time to time, and is excellently funny and smart (although perhaps excessively intelligent when it comes to the freezing points of mud, the accumulation of rain in buckets, and the provincial trees of Alberta).
One of the oddest things I’ve found in my extremely limited experience with being coupled is the beauty of vulnerability. I’m making myself somewhat vulnerable by typing these things about Matt. Maybe I’ll sound ridiculous or naïve or creepy, or maybe I’ll regret writing these thoughts down if things don’t work out (which would be rather sad), or maybe I’m being too candid. But that’s kind of the beauty of it. One of my favourite chapters in Sex God speaks about the vulnerability that’s at the heart of God’s relationship with us. God came here as a vulnerable man because, in part, all the other ways he might have come would have scared us speechless. The Israelites told Moses that they couldn’t listen to the voice of God when he was giving the Ten Commandments because it was so overwhelming that they felt they would die if God spoke to them. So Jesus is born in a feeding trough in a stable. It doesn’t get much more vulnerable than that. I think the paradox of the Son of God’s vulnerability speaks a great deal about how deep God’s love for us is, how we’re meant to love others, and how upside-down His Kingdom really is.
There are a lot of places in life where I think the vulnerability that Jesus modeled is healthy, and I’ve found my own vulnerability to be particularly evident in this guy-girl dynamic that God set up. Even the simple act of liking someone a lot is kind of risky. They might not reciprocate, or your feelings might get out of hand, or you might end up looking rather silly by acting on your feelings. I think this is an illustration of the vulnerability that characterizes God’s relationship with us, and His ultimate act of weakness that paid the price of our redemption. I was reading Hosea last week, and I find it so interesting that God would use a marriage to represent His love for His unfaithful people. Hosea marries a prostitute, and continues to love her earnestly despite her disloyalty. Hosea marries a woman who repeatedly cheats on him just as God loves a group of people who continually reject Him. Chapter 5 of Song of Songs speaks about the interplay between two people. The man asks the woman to let him into her house, but she waits too long, and he gives up, leaving her alone and regretful. It’s very risky, but very worth the risk. I can get frustrated with Christians when I self-righteously think that they aren’t willing enough to just love people without being judgmental and selfish about who and how they love, but people’s hesitation to be vulnerable is understandable, I think (although still not justifiable).
C.S. Lewis puts it this way: “Love anything and your heart will be wrung and possibly broken. If you want to make sure of keeping it intact you must give it to no one, not even an animal. Wrap it carefully round with hobbies and little luxuries; avoid all entanglements. Lock it up safe in the casket or coffin of your selfishness. But in that casket, safe, dark, motionless, airless, it will change. It will not be broken; it will become unbreakable, impenetrable, irredeemable. To love is to be vulnerable.” And so, maybe by doing things that are sometimes unappealing to the sometimes-shy Cait like initiating phone conversations, deciding how to fritter away an evening, or hanging out with Matt’s parents, I’m learning more about God and His Kingdom and how radical His vulnerability was. (In fairness though, I don’t think that God is as shy as I am. However, I have written two entire honest paragraphs on my blog about my thoughts on dating, so obviously I am getting good at being vulnerable.)
I’ve been thinking about milestones recently, not only because of the aforementioned dating, but also because my family just celebrated a boatload of birthdays, Jess just graduated and is five days away from becoming a full-fledged adult, my family just got a new yet-to-be-named car, dear friends are convocating, and I am now a proud (albeit slightly incompetent) pet-owner. I like that we define little moments in life as especially significant, even though sometimes they’re just arbitrary points at which we recognize someone’s achievements, the life of someone we love, or the beginning of something splendid. Life really is more of a progression rather than a series of steps, I think, but having a graduation bash or making a big deal out of the first drive in a new car helps us to gain perspective I think. Jess’ impending bday has made me think a lot about how far we’ve come since she was born nearly 18 years ago, and what our years as adults might look like. Not that she will miraculously grow an inch overnight on June 16, nor will she suddenly be imparted with special grownup wisdom, but she has slowly been growing into an adult and increasingly becoming intimidating in her knowledge of baking, black holes, biology, and various other topics starting with the letter “B.” Jess really is growing up. She’s taking a year off of school, which I know from experience will be a great break, will teach her a lot about people, and will allow her to define herself outside of academics and extracurricular activities. She’s nabbed a big-deal job at an ophthalmology clinic run by her friend Jessie’s dad (she visited the clinic last week, and it sounds awesome, although rather intimidating). She’s doing a job that is usually done by people who have gone to school for two years, but she’s more than smart enough to handle it, and she’s enjoying reading through ophthalmology textbooks and showing me highly disturbing pictures of eye infections and bulbous eyelids.
I can still distinctly remember the day that Jess was born; to say she’s come a long way since then would be an understatement. One of my favourite things to do in the entire world is to watch home videos and browse through old photo albums. I’m an overly sentimental person at times, and so I derive pleasure from making a big deal out of past landmark occasions, whether it’s be Jess’ first birthday, our move into Evergreen the House, or my grandparents’ retirement party. Thinking back on these times reminds me of how little I’ve changed, how much I’ve changed, and the numerous plans we had all those years ago (and how the carrying out of these plans has been met by mixed results). Caitlin’s been gone on her world travels for more than a month now, and I’m missing her a great deal already (I’ll send the review to you soon other CJ!). I can only imagine what it will be like when I’m faced with milestone of friends leaving Edmonton (perhaps even my baby sister leaving, or maybe even me leaving). Needless to say, I will require a lot of Kleenex if and when that time comes.
I should head off to watch Barefoot Contessa with Hessica before this blog becomes incessant. In a couple of weeks, she’ll have no school to use to excuse herself from watching non-Food Network TV with me and enduring horrible movies called The Fountain. I can’t wait! My parents are nearly on vacation (to NEW YORK!) as well, and Jess and I will have the house to ourselves in a short while. I plan on baking a great deal with Jess, watching movies late with friends, and festooning the door to our house with absurd decorations. I’m additionally looking forward to upcoming festivals, concerts, reenactments of scenes from Rocky Balboa, potential learning how to drive, and more of the already-enjoyed camping/reading/working/walks outside. I’m nearly finished reading Anne Lamott and Pascal now (both of which I’d recommend, although I’d recommend the former less heartily as she might offend readers quite easily), and am hoping to start reading through some stuff by Shane Claiborne and Tony Campolo and Eugene Peterson soon. I have also promised to give Harry Potter a chance this summer, so perhaps I’ll become an obsessed Harry Potter reader before school returns in the fall. If you’re not reading, I really suggest that you crack open a book; you can learn things and be entertained all at the same time. Besides the previously mentioned activities, I’m also nursing my poor summer-battered body back to health. The assaults that allergens, UV-laden sunrays, and blood-sucking mosquitoes have subjected me to have rendered me somewhat sore, but still alive and able to type at length, which you may have noticed. Anyhow, I’m off for TV fun with Jess and another agonizing application of aloe vera onto my back! I hope you’re all wearing SPF 30 and making yourselves vulnerable some of the time and enjoying all that summer has to offer!
Cait and Matt’s Incomplete List of Camping Adventures - Cait stubbed her toe - a thrilling ugly shoe comparison - cracker snacks - invented a game - Cait NEARLY won Crazy 8 countdown - we ate good Subway sandwiches, Matt ate 12.5 inches of sandwich, Cait was stared at for not wearing shoes due to aforementioned stubbed toe - we saw the mountains - Jordan was an expert animal-spotter - Matt watched for deer and followed a semi - Cait thought about #72 and watched mountains - named and set up and admired Merman the space station - a few select people “basked” in the “glow” of the candlelight - Matt named Frederick the Fire Site who was reincarnated part way through the weekend - Matt and Rob and Allan talked for a short period of time - Matt and Allan felt each other’s sleeping bags - the boys -Rob pretended they were macho and pushed cars for no good reason - slept in waaay too late - ate cereal from small boxes and Matt spilled milk all over - Cait failed at President until the very end when we stopped (WHICH WAS A TRAGEDY OF EPIC PROPORTIONS) - ate lunch at the Bear’s Paw and observed that turkey was better than roast beef - Crystal was afraid of feces - threw snowballs at each other - Matt broke his backpack - sang songs on the way such as Fly Me to the Moon, Down by the Bay, Row the Boat, Amazing Grace (to the tune of In the Jungle), Matt’s Christmas song (that included lyrics like: “please put a penny in the old man’s hat” and “the geese are getting fat” and had stomping actions) - climbed a mountain and especially scary, unstable rocks and did not die - saw many chipmunks at the top of the mountain - drank snow - attempted to ski down the mountain and ended up falling, charging, sliding, getting stuck and rolling - skipped as high as possible - made our own path down the mountain - sat in a hot spring pool and had a snack in the café where they were playing Joni Mitchell and jumped in the cold pool and the lifeguard saved Matt from freezing - a nurse corroborated “everything” that Cait said regarding vegetables and body temperature (but Cait is deluded) - Cait did not blow dry her hair (what a wonderful and low maintenance person she is!) - admired the ample-sized blue bruise on Cait’s toe - made hotdogs that reflected our respective cooking abilities and Cait thought her hotdog stick was amazing, which it was, but it looked weird - Cait was the only one who enjoyed smores - Rob and Crystal ruled for a time at President together then Rob became the worst Janitor in the history of the game - chatted about topics both silly and serious in Merman the Space Station for a long period of time - were sadistic towards the sleepy Crystal and Rob when we got up in the morning (flashlights, Cait’s fighting skills, and Matt’s preaching were utilized quite effectively) - ate poutine and delicious pizza for breakfast - Cait spilled poutine on her jeans not once, but twice - Matt ate ketchup with his poutine, and somehow did not vomit - lazed around at Pyramid Lake while making miniature forests and throwing rock ammunition into the lake and splashing water on the faces of lazy nappers - Sufjan serenaded us while we admired the pretty mountains and listened to Brit rock that Rob totally loved - ate leftover marshmallows and watched Venus and chit-chatted
P.S. I am clearly a more expert blogger than you, Matt. I'm not sure why you would even attempt to keep up with my consistency in posting, but if you want to try, you should blog soon. P.P.S. Football season is nigh. I am reeeeeally excited. We touched actual Commonwealth grass last weekend at the Police concert, which I'm sure means good luck and guarantees that the Eskies will make it into the playoffs this season. If they fail to make it into the playoffs again, I simply won't know what to do with myself. P.P.P.S. I have decided that I should visit Albertan lakes more frequently. They make me happy.
Sometimes life just feels ripe. Ripe with possibility, with beauty, and with truth. Summer is one of those seasons of life that is rich with all the best things in life, and the lack of school and related responsibilities make savouring life all the more trouble-free. School’s been “out for the summer” for a couple of weeks now, and it’s been a welcome change from four months of school, limited sunshine, and reading mainly textbooks and lecture notes. I got a stack of summer reading out from Rutherford last week, finished with taxes for another year, and enjoyed lots of lovely moments with friends and family. Even with the gruesomeness of allergies in this month of pollen and birch tree flowering, I’m kind of wishing that it were always summer. I’ve been reading through Joshua for the past couple of weeks, and was really challenged to trust God despite crummy things that friends were going through and my own ambivalence about where I wanted to work this summer. God asked Joshua and the Israelites to do some pretty crazy things (not just difficult, but seemingly insane things), and they trusted Him big time in spite of all the reasons they had to be skeptical and glum. Even when life is messy, I’ve learned that it really is best to give my worries and hopelessness up to God. It was hard to see how God would work through all the mess that I was struck by last month, but He totally did. My uncle’s recovering from successful surgery on his legs, dear old Brian has been in especially high spirits this month, and school and work have been treating Jen well this month. God’s worked through struggles that friends were facing last month, despite my finding it difficult to be hopeful about them, and although I don’t want my faith in God to depend on Him being overtly good and generous, it’s a blessing to see that He really is sooo good in ways that I can’t foresee.
Even shifts at the café, which I’d been fretting over, have worked out rather nicely; I’ll be working just Monday nights this summer, and will get about 40 hours a week (48 this week). I really wasn’t sure what I’d do this summer, and had scouted out some other jobs last month, but none of them were people jobs in the way that being a barista is, and I’m relieved that I can continue to nurture relationships that have grown over my time at the café. I love the friends that I work with so much; we bake for each other, go out for meals and shopping excursions together, and have some of my favourite conversations ever. I make relatively piddly money working at the café, but I’m kind of love that I can work somewhere for reasons besides earning money. I was talking with a friend a few weeks ago about prayer, and she was explaining me how she finds it strange to ask God for things when He might not even answer those prayers, and praying about God’s splendour and her own sin is much more appealing much of the time. Sometimes it’s easy for prayer to turn into a request bonanza rather than a dialogue with God, but it’s so freeing to give worries and concerns up to Him. Even if a prayer isn’t “answered,” it’s such a weight off my shoulders to leave something up to God, and realize that ultimately, He’s got the whole world in His hands, what I need to worry about mainly involves me living in a Kingdom-way, loving others, and loving God. I like to collect quotes in my journal, and my favourite find from last week was one that goes, “Everything is okay in the end. If it's not okay, then it's not the end.” How true that is. Life is hard, and messy, and confusing much of the time, but if I trust in Him, God’s will ultimately take care of me, and as Morrie would say, His love and justice and grace really will win in the end.
Although I’ve certainly found this post-school time of year to be lovely and amazing, it has definitely been detrimental to my vanity (which is likely a good thing). With the advent of allergies, my eyes have become puffy and resemble slices of Mandarin orange, while my legs are still rather bruised from a game of Grounders last weekend and I’ve avoided wearing skirts and shorts over the last while. Plus, I got my first black eye ever on Saturday, which was both exciting and strange. My grandparents are slightly concerned about the nature of the fun that I have with friends from our new church, I think, and customers are undoubtedly going to make fun of my shiner today and insinuate that I had a drunken fight over the weekend. Plus, the runniness of my nose and frequency of my sneezing can’t come to an end soon enough. I had a detailed dream last night in which I was doing research on sneezing. When I have dreams centred entirely around sneezing, my nose has clearly had enough of stifled achoo-ing. I like flowers and birch trees a great deal, but I kind of despise the pollen that accompanies them. Fortunately, I think that allergies will cease and desist in the next couple of weeks, and my face will return to relative normalcy. Besides the impending end of allergies, I’m also looking forward to football in one month, my parents’ trip to New York in two months, and a smattering of concerts over the next little while. Folk Fest tickets go on sale in three weeks, and Crystal’s promised to come on for one day, and hopefully I’ll lure in a few others to join in the fun. While it’s hard to beat the excitement of concerts, I’m even more elated by my grandparents’ return to their home and native land, and the upcoming 6 birthday bash and simultaneous Mother’s Day celebration Sunday night. I hadn’t seen Grandma and Grandpa for more than a month, and I was happy to see them at a lunch that I thought I’d missed the boat on yesterday. I’m fairly certain that my grandma and I are kindred spirits; we share a fondness for matters of correctness, both dislike cats, and laugh together for extended periods of time when we’re together. I’d missed them a lot, and my grandpa more than made up for his absence by telling dozens of bad jokes yesterday. I love them and Jess/Mom/Dad more than anything else, and I’m glad that they’re back just in time for summer fun.
I should likely be off now to pack a supper for tonight’s closing shift and to finish some laundry and reading, but I’ll write something worthwhile in the next week perhaps. Small group has agreed to read the splendid Velvet Elvis, as has Matt, and potentially Rob (what powers of persuasion I have!), so I’m sure that will generate some cogitation-worthy lines of thought. I started Annie Lamott’s latest book yesterday, and I’m enjoying it more than I thought I would; she’s rough around the edges, but writes with wisdom and honesty. I’m sure that her writing will send me off on some tangential ruminations as well. I’ve mostly finished the Oliver! review, Caitlin (it was a gooder; John Ulyatt made an appearance, and PJ Perry was in the pit), so I’ll finish it up after work tomorrow and send it off via email. I’m still sad that you missed it, but if anything could top Oliver! for you, it would, of course, be traveling to another country. Liz Nichols aptly noted that, “John Ullyatt, the Citadel’s favourite leading man, ... stops all stage traffic by his mere presence.” Fingers crossed that he stars as the beast in Beauty and the Beast next season. I’m off to finish some laundry and reading and vacuuming before work tonight, but I hope that you’re all finding this almost-summer season to be ripe, whether you’re in Deadmonton or some lovely other place!
Soundtrack for Cait's Summer - Mika - Peter Bjorn & John - Feist - Patrick Watson - Beirut - Alexi Murdoch - Corinne Bailey Rae - Modest Mouse - Nouvelle Vague - Rogue Wave - Beck - Of Montreal - Jack Johnson - Can You Say Indie? Vol 1-3 - Queen - Rosie Thomas - Thomas Newman - Super Furry Animals - Sufjan Stevens - Broken Social Scene
Summer Preoccupations - lots and lots and lots of festival fun - laze around at the leg (pronounced lej) - nighttime adventures in the country - go camping - walks in the river valley at sun rise - cloud watch and star gaze - Eskies football (I picked up my tickets last month; I am planning on forcing some of you to come to several games with me and Jess) - cry and dance at concerts - take up jogging (perhaps) - use the paddle boats in Hawrelak - take pictures - Velvet Elvis with small group - late-night walks - road trip with dear friends - BBQs with the familia - improve upon my crocheting skills - watch movies in Crystal's backyard (it has always rained when we've attempted to do this in the past) - bake and cook dee-licious creations - Arrested Development marathon - swinging with friends - people watch on the patio at work - airport and spandex escapade - devise a way to vacuum pollen out of the air - river valley escapades - caaamping - convince Mom to let me get a lizard - Rocky Balboa meets the Albertan Legislature - practice guitar - coffee/tea/lunch with amigos - read a decent chunk of the books in Rutherford - have plenty of picnics - journal - play Bruce Cockburn the Guitar - go golfing in plaid and argyle outfits - Star Wars night with Crystal and Ben (et al.) - Grounders and other playground shenanigans - dance in the rain
Sometimes I write things, and they look horribly trite or snobbish upon a second glance, but over the past week I really have been struck by the messy and tension-filled nature of life that I was talking about in my last entry. A few days ago, we learned that a dear uncle of mine (I think he’s technically my second cousin, once removed) has flesh-eating disease, and while they’ve caught it early, it’s going to be a hard a hard next while for him and my auntie. They love God and those around them intensely, and I’ve learned so much about self-sacrificing love and God’s desire for justice through their wise words and work with marginalized groups in Africa and Asia. Knowing that they’re going through tough times is painful; a few years ago, Uncle Doug had a scary case of hepatitis, and when he made it through that, we were so relieved and thankful, so for him to be facing another worrisome health concern seems especially messed up. A member of our extended family committed suicide this month, and when my mom flew out to the funeral, knowing how to deal with the hardship of that loss and how to comfort everyone there was difficult. Grieving the loss of a loved one is tough as it is, but when a death is complicated in this tragic way, the difficulty of life and death are all the more evident. The thought that life would be hard enough that it wasn’t worth it anymore is a hard one to swallow, but some people really do face such hardship in their lives. Life is messy.
My favourite customer of all time (ever) is a beautiful man named Brian who has schizophrenia. Although Brian is one of the most gentle and lovely people I’ve ever met in my life, people treat him with suspicion and cruelty because of the symptoms of his disorder. Last week, the police wanted Brian to be kicked out of our café because of his appearance and unusual behaviour. When we didn’t force Brian to leave, they became even more insistent that he was a disturbance; I was so troubled by the fact that the police would want to kick out someone whose life is already so smattered with derision as it is. Brian used to come for his regular mug of House Blend every day when I worked at Bear Mountain, and now he comes to Second Cup for a medium mug of blueberry tea steeped beforehand, and in the four years that I’ve been friends with Brian, he’s never been anything but kind. My day is always brightened by talks with him about physics and his experience with war and various other things that we stumble upon in conversation. But because Brian dresses differently and talks to himself, he lost his job as a janitor two years ago, and is told by the police to leave Whyte Ave because he doesn’t act normally. I find this to be terribly backwards.
I opened Firefox this morning to find that there had been a horrific shooting at Virginia Tech this morning, and it’s impossible to read about events like this without being sickened by the sadness of it all. Not only did dozens of lives come to an abrupt and untimely halt, but whoever was driven to do this can’t have had a very easy life. While it might be simpler to condemn and rebuke the shooter who ended the lives of so many, God loves him deeply. Like Dale Lang did after the shooting in Taber, we have to recognize that people don’t fit into black and white categories of good and evil. CBC showed a clip of the shooting captured from outside the building from a cell phone, and hearing the shots being fired and knowing that a life ended with each of those shots was heartrending. I cried not just because 33 people had died, but also because it was such an illustration of life’s fragility. The students were gone, just like that. Seeing that gunman had a frightening capacity to kill all those people and devastate an entire community made me think about the human ability, and tendency, to mess up all the good that God created.
I went for a walk this afternoon with Matt and took advantage of the midday sunshine and lovely cloud-smattered sky today, and despite being a pleasant spring day, there’s still a lot of mud and plant debris remaining on the ground that was previously covered up by snow. Spring muck isn’t very pretty, but I think it’s good to be reminded of the muck on a regular basis. Although it’s tempting in a week of happifying music, unitard-shopping, Anne of Green Gables, and finishing classes to glaze over life’s not-so-pleasant parts, I don’t want to dismiss the hardship that is pervasive in the world. At our last small group, we were talking about how Christians often present life as simple, especially in places like Sunday school, or when dealing with arguments that run counter to our beliefs. When we fail to acknowledge the complexity of things, we’re not seeing the whole story. If someone has been taught about life and God in a shallow way that dismisses the messiness of life, whether it be in regards to sex, politics, good and evil, or justice, they’re going to have a hard time meshing their beliefs with the complications of real life. I think this is partly why so many people struggle with their faith when they get to university; they see a more complicated world, and learn things that aren’t always acknowledged in the church, and don’t know how to fit what they see and hear with what they’d come to believe in their past. Scientific theories that were denounced in a church seem to make sense, and new Muslim, Buddhist, or atheist friends are actually pretty cool, and aren’t entirely deluded in their notions about the world. When life gets messy, people who have been taught that life is always sunshiney when you’re on God’s side can find themselves lost.
I feel blessed to know people who deal with life’s messiness with grace and joy. I had a picnic with Jen yesterday, with soda and chips and carrots (the carrots made it healthy), and we had a good talk about life. Jen has faced adversity in her life in so many ways that I can’t list them all; I feel silly complaining about various things when I think about her and how she approaches life with such trust in God and lack of selfishness. She knows deep-down that God loves her, and that one day she’ll be done with the struggles that she faces now. Her joy really is contagious, too; her laughter and capacity for silliness make me very happy. As I’ve spent time with Jen, and have grown to love her so much, I’ve learned that life’s messiness is best handled with knowledge of God’s love and a love for Him and others that makes everything else that gets complicated become less important. In a very apropos manner, I was reading a chapter in Tuesdays with Morrie the other day that I wish I’d read before so I could have included it in my entry from last week. It’s a conversation that I enjoyed imagining in my head:
“Have I told you about the tension of opposites?” he says. The tension of opposites? “Life is a series of pulls back and forth. You want to do one thing, but you are bound to do something else. Something hurts you, yet you know it shouldn’t. You take certain things for granted, even when you know you should never take anything for granted. “A tension of opposites, like a pull on a rubber band. And most of us live somewhere in the middle.” Sounds like a wrestling match, I say. “A wrestling match.” He laughs. “Yes, you could describe life that way.” So which side wins, I ask? “Which side wins?” He smiles at me, the crinkled eyes, the crooked teeth. “Love wins. Love always wins.”
P.S. Clearly you should read Tuesdays with Morrie. It's rather lovely. P.P.S. My mom got me a new Message yesterday, with a padded cover, numbered verses, and a satin ribbon. It's my new favourite thing. P.P.P.S. Caitlin is leaving on Friday for three months to work at the Smithsonian. Then she's leaving for an entire year for adventures in Japan. I'm excited for her, but also sooo sad about her imminent absence. I'll have no play buddy, no one to discuss silly Christians with, no one to argue with over iced chai, and no one to keep me up to date on race relations in the country fairs of nineteenth century Europe. Adventurous and intrepid favourite friends are irksome, but I love her bunches nonetheless. P.P.P.P.S. Music videos by Alanis Morissette, Feist, and Patrick Watson have made me smile. Canadian musicians are clearly expert music video-makers.
I’m often struck by the dialectics that define our lives. So often, we are required to balance the various aspects of our lives and find where we fit amongst the extremes of this world. Rarely is spending all of my energy on one activity, dwelling excessively on one line of thought, or identifying with a fundamentalist belief a very wise course of action. Instead, I think that life is lived most fully when we embrace the tension that defines it. Life is messy, and imagining it to be black and white is rather ignorant in my estimation. Fleshing through life’s muddledness can be tricky, and it’s often easier to deny the mess that we find ourselves in. In my experience, Christians especially get caught in this trap of pretending that life is uncomplicated. While the truth of life is remarkably simple (God loves you, Jesus is the way, the truth, and the life; end of story), I’ve found that living this truth out is anything but clear-cut. Without God’s guidance and dialogue with others in my life, life can get awfully confusing awfully fast. How do I live in the world, but not be of it? Am I dismissing the command to love God sometimes when I concentrate so heavily on the command to love others? When do I need to go beyond saying the “nice” thing, and be candid? Questions like these are tricky to flesh out on my own. But I think failing to recognize that life is complicated means that we miss out on the full potential of life; working through the complications is ultimately so gratifying, and always takes me closer to the truth.
So often, North American Christians have supported black and white ideas like the “if you’re not with us, you’re against us” notion, despite Jesus’ converse words in Mark 9: “whoever is not against us is for us.” Jesus teaches that the weak are strong, and says, “blessed are the meek;” straightforward logic would contradict these statements. Life is not always straightforward, though. My favourite chapter in Rob Bell’s Sex God is the one titled “Angels and Animals” which pursues Blaise Pascal’s (AKA Bono in the Lobe household) idea that “man is neither angel nor beast.” In the context of Rob Bell’s book, this means that the church’s tendency to view ourselves as angels without flesh and a sexual side misses the point, while living as if we’re untamable animals isn’t any better, of course. Instead, recognizing the tension that exists between these two extremes, and working through this tension, is where we find the truth. I feel the struggle to flesh out life’s messiness most strongly at Easter. The days between Good Friday and Easter Sunday can be so strange because I want to remember Jesus’ sacrifice and the fact that my sin put Him on that cross, but at the same time I know that He lives again, and lives in me. (If you’re reading this, Caitlin, you’re not allowed to make fun! I know this sounds absurd. It’s true though. Too bad. Sometimes the most absurd things are the most true.)
I miss Zion a lot at Easter and Christmas, but McKernan really does have a beautiful Good Friday service that makes up for its lack of Zion-ness. Everyone takes Communion receives prayer at some point, and it’s a time of vulnerability, the kind of vulnerability that I miss from Zion. It’s a time of Communion, not just in the sense of the Eucharistic rite, but also in the sense of fellowship. I’m always struck in moments like these by the ache that people normally hide when they’re being invulnerable. Seeing people’s hurt on Friday, and thinking of Christ’s pain from the physical anguish and our heart-breaking betrayal, I feel especially aware of life’s ugliness and injustice and difficulty. Of course, I was also struck in this moment by the fact that we’re able to be in communion and receive salvation through Jesus’ blood. There was a tension in my mind between contrasting sentiments, but it was a tension that led me to a fuller understanding of that day’s significance. I want to live in the reality of life’s pain, whether it’s friends who are struggling, the suffering that so many people face on a daily basis, friends at work and school not knowing that Good Friday was for them, missing my old church, recognizing that it was my sin that held Him there, or simply wishing my grandparents were in town for Easter.
Of course, I want to rejoice always, and live in the reality of life’s beauty as well. I spent the morning with my oh-so-lovable family, remembered Jesus’ self-sacrificing love with a church that I care about very much, cooked a turkey dinner with some beautiful friends, walked around in the chilly-but-sunny Albertan spring, and spent the evening with some of my favourite people enjoying fellowship, silliness, and food (even under-appreciated hot cross buns and red Ecuadorian bananas). Matt, my corn-loathing friend behind such hit albums as Can You Say Indie? Volume 3: A Collection of Kintrasts, sent me Vega 4’s “Life Is Beautiful” a while ago, the chorus of which goes “life is beautiful, but it’s complicated.” It’s incredibly cliché, but true nonetheless. No matter how tough the going gets, I’ll always know God’s love and grace, which matter infinitely more than anything else. Even when life is easy peas, though, I don’t want to stop praying for friends who don’t know God’s love, I don’t want to become complacent, and I want to be able to share the burdens of others and hurt when they hurt. Life is messy, and I want to be willing to get dirty in the muddled disorder. There’s a tension in living between Jesus’ salvation-giving sacrifice and the time when God will restore everything, and there’s a tension in being part of an upside down Kingdom, and I embrace that tension.
On another tangent, I’ve become increasingly aware of the fact that, as Mr. Longbrake puts it, the less you have, the better off you are. I was bothered by my love of clothes and pretty furniture last fall, and have been praying about it since then. I don’t really want to want possessions, but it’s hard for me to shut off that desire. God’s somehow managed to convince me of this truth (in the way that my heart knows it, not just my head), and I’m caring decreasingly about these things. There’s nothing very profound about my diminished desire to consume, but I’ve found it to be quite encouraging and freeing to know deep-down that I don’t need things, and that God can work in me in ways that don’t seem at all plausible. I finished Sex God the other week, and Rob Bell speaks on lust for a portion of the book. Lust, as Bell paints it, is about buying into the promise that something will gratify and fulfill us in a way that nothing but God really can. Whether it’s sex, the admiration of others, pretty turquoise Lux ballet flats from Urban Outfitters that cost $39, or a trip to NYC, the good in these things is ultimately meant to point to God and live in the joy that He intended for us; these things were not meant to replace God. I’m not a very big fan of capitalism, and our small group was pondering the inescapability of “the system” in our society last week. We can’t really not go to school and subvert the get-a-job and make-a-living way of life in North America, because each of us is best equipped to love others by following this system to some extent in a capitalistic society. But as Shane Claiborne writes, we’re called to do “small things with great love,” whether in Calcutta, the grocery store, or our workplaces. It kind of stinks that I have to be a part of this system, but God can work even in this greed-based society that we’ve created (amazingly enough).
I would just like to reiterate how beautiful life is as I wrap up today’s blog entry. This morning, I woke up at 5:30 for some reason or other, and the sky was too beautiful to not get up and enjoy. I love orange skies, no matter what C&C non-city friends say about the city sky. The orange just looks so warm, and reminds me that there are people all around me contributing to the orangeness of the sky in some indirect way. Especially at 5:30 in the morning, God’s presence is so very apparent, even in the sky and falling snow and frosty wind. I was pondering God and life and people (the best things to ponder, of course), and the sky became the most remarkable shade of indigo purple. It was a beautiful moment, and it was so clear that God is so much bigger than anything else I’m facing. He’s bigger than the hardships of my friends, the things that money can buy, the poverty and injustice that exist in this world, and my exams and assignments and readings. He’s much bigger than even the sky, which is, of course, the biggest thing I’ve ever seen in my entire life. There’s not really anything more comforting than that. Not that His bigness or the backwardness of capitalism and competition give me an excuse to not care about any of the aforementioned things, but the fact that He loves me unconditionally and matters more than any of these things gives me a great deal of peace. And with that, I’m off to study! I trust that you’re all enjoying the snow rather than bemoaning it ceaselessly, as has become a trend at work. It’s cold and a nuisance, and really not suitable for springtime, but if you resolve to enjoy its delicate prettiness, it’s much more bearable.
P.S. Any of you who voted for peas on Saturday night have pained me deeply. Your betrayal was very harsh, and I don’t think I will ever cook corn for you again. Except that I will cook it again because you must all learn that corn is FAR superior to putrescent peas. P.P.S. I am currently in love with Patrick Watson’s “The Great Escape.” Find a copy of it for yourself; he’s my latest favourite Canadian artist. P.P.P.S. John Mayer is here in 18 days! And then Feist! And the Police! Plus, with K-Days, the Folk Fest, jazz concerts, and various other music fun, I’m exceedingly thrilled about the music that this summer has in store for Cait et al. P.P.P.P.S. Jesus died for you. I pray that you know that deep-down.
Quite often, I find rules to be ridiculous. The fact that brown belts can’t be paired with black shoes, that the commencement of a play must be greeted with applause, and the way in which guys often feel obligated to open doors exclusively for girls strikes me as kind of laughable. Ben (who is back!! I missed him!!) was arguing the merits of the latter item in that list this week, not surprisingly. His only explanation for why he feels compelled to open doors and pay for girls was based on the historical practice of such acts of chivalry. In truth, I’m not deeply troubled by boys opening doors for me, though sometimes I can’t help but giggle, nor am I going to refrain from clapping for a few moments when the curtains open at the Citadel just because I find it silly, but many implicit rules that our society has adopted are more significant and bothersome. Some rules have a profound impact on how we live day-to-day, and can be both unhelpful and unhealthy, whether it’s certain discussion-worthy topics becoming taboo, our unquestioning acceptance of some forms of authority, or the increasing unacceptability of greeting an unfamiliar passerby on walks down Whyte. Often, it’s Christian-created rules that bother me the most; I think it’s limiting to when we create set ways that we worship and pray in, make sometimes excessively-defined gender roles, and avoid acknowledging that we drink/dance/play poker (etcetera!) outside of church. I think it’s simplistic to think that there are set formulas that we can teach people to facilitate their courtship practices, “save” their non-Christian friends, maintain their sexual purity, be happy, and so on. People are individuals, and few formulas in life apply to everyone. If we want a formula, the combination of prayer, Bible-reading, and community generally diminish the need for silly “Ingredients to Success” lists. God created us to be individuals, and synthetic rules might be helpful to one person, but could easily be detrimental to another.
All this is to say that I’m not fond of certain manmade rules. But more than I’d like to think, my distaste for some expectations keeps me from recognizing the importance of truly important rules. I believe that God commanded us to do things for our own good; a command to be joyful has obvious merits, and even the not-so-obviously-valuable commandment not to covet is hard to argue with. God loves us, and wants us to live the rich lives, living this life can sometimes feel like a narrow path I think. This week, in various ways, I’ve seen how important some of these guidelines are, in situations that went south because of a lack of listening to God, or blessings that comes out of abiding by His rules even when it’s annoying and inconvenient (sometimes God asks me to do things that I find bothersome; I’ve found that it’s pretty much always a good idea to listen to Him though). The idea that as Christians, we should go to church on Sundays seems so rigid and arbitrary to me, but without consistent community and learning that a church body provides, it’s so hard to live “well” in that Christian sense, I think. God’s idea of marriage, too, is an idea that I am rather keen on, but a lot of people I talk about it with struggle with the restriction of it. When people do things their own way, it’ doesn’t always go so well. He’s shown me this week that He really does know best, and that when He’s not our Lord, things can get awfully messed up awfully fast. He never created these rules out of power-thirst; He created them out of love. I know this is vague, but I’ve found it to be a comfort this week to know that even when rules seem limiting and “fun-sucking,” as Crystal would say, they’re there for a reason. Despite my tendency to frown upon strange and arbitrary synthesized rules, there are rules that were made by Someone who knows better, and while my following them might sometimes seem futile, I’d like to think that it never really is.
I’ve been journaling about apathy and pride this week, neither of which are necessarily pleasant topics, but I’ve enjoyed the catharsis that comes along with writing about things. However, as I have decided from typing the past two paragraphs, some things aren’t blogged about so easily, so I shall refrain continuing my discussion of things learned this week! It’s been one of those weeks that is hectic and stressful, but somehow pleasant nonetheless. I’d be praying about something particular that was on my mind, and would open my devotionals, or turn to a page in my Bible, only to find that what I was reading something that addressed precisely what I’d been pondering. (At one point I was wondering to God what exactly a radical life looks like, as this is something I’ve been trying to define recently, and I opened my devotionals to find that that days’ readings were titled “A Radical Life.”) Sometimes there are just too many coincidences at once for all of them to be actual coincidences; I love when God’s presence is so very tangible. Friends, too, have brightened a taxing week. As aforementioned, Ben is back, and it was so good to catch up with him (I even enjoyed a violent, gender-stereotyping, intellectually limited film, which was quite momentous).
On the other end of the friend spectrum, my wonderful co-CJ friend, who likes to remain “Anonymous” in the blogosphere, met up with me for some iced Vietnamese coffee and chai today, and just chatting with her while sitting on strange tin chairs was so delightful. It’s nice to know that she’s remained as droll, clever, and lovely as she was in the days of mocking rat-loving LA teachers and lying about her father’s career (for more than two years!). She hooked me up with a cute little book on feminism, and made a brilliant sales pitch for the anti-racism concert she’s involved in next week; the fact that I hung out with both Ben and her this week makes me laugh. Jess was THE BEST study buddy over the past few days, the kind that says nice, supportive things and eats taco chips in bed with you, but also tell you to stop looking up “pecuniary” in the thesaurus when studying is necessary. (But really, isn't pecuniary a great word? I'm endeavouring to use it more regularly.) Jess and I have a new favourite song by Of Montreal titled “Wraith Pinned to the Mist and Other Games,” and it’s definitely one of our best romantic theme songs of all time (it’s wise to have romantic theme songs with friends; Korp and I recently selected one from our choir repertoire, and we make kissing/eyelash-batting signals whenever we sing it at practice). Plus, dinner with some of my favourite sadistic people tonight was full of laughter, blushing, and general contentment. Crystal even confirmed that she’s going to watch Star Wars, something that she’s been avoiding for nearly a year.
Basically, people make life lovely even when school attempts to make it torturously painful. I had a midterm yesterday and today, and am currently writing an essay on the evolutionary theories related rape, which is rather depressing to research as you might imagine. Fortunately, writing and researching papers is far more stimulating than reading textbooks for hours on end, and I no longer have to write about A Knight’s Tale, which turned out to be a very unwise essay topic indeed. Besides textbooks and articles about the trauma of domestic abuse, I’ve been reading Sex God and Tuesdays with Morrie this week; these are both highly recommendable books, and thus, I am recommending them to you. As an aside, I will inform you that I struggled to find a copy of Sex God in Edmonton at first, and resultingly had to phone various book stores asking “Do you have a copy of Sex God in?” I found this to be slightly mortifying. Even worse was when I went to Chapters to get the copy that I’d finally got on hold, and the clerk very clearly thought that it was some Kama Sutra-esque book, and mouthed the title (refusing to say it aloud) when confirming that this was, indeed, the book that I wanted to read. He showed me the cover, and proceeded to ring it through without making eye contact or speaking again. In fact, Sex God is a Christian book about humanity, intimacy, desires, and so on; the clerk was evidently not aware of this. I really should be off to bed before the St. Patty’s bonanza that awaits me at work tomorrow morning, so I shall bid you all goodnight! I feel I should apologize for the excessive futility of this entry. This has been my break from reading articles, and I’m clearly not in a writing groove right now (hopefully this serves as a warm up for paper-writing tomorrow). Happy St. Patty’s Day my dear Irish and not-so-Irish friends!
P.S. Virb.com is going to replace Facebook and MySpace in 5 years. For now, I have made friends with Bloc Party while the rest of you remain satisfied with Facebook. 5 years, though, and you'll all be my Virb-buddies. Mark my words. P.P.S. Puddles and sunshine and pleasant breezes make spring one of my favourite seasons. When wearing rainboots, the vast amount of mud is exceedingly enjoyable. My puffer jacket is officially stored away until next winter. I hope you're making the most of this pleasant time of year! P.P.P.S. Conrad Black is difficult to love. His last name describes his heart quite suitably, I think. I am glad that Jean Chrétien was mean to him.
Today is a good day. Not that every day isn’t or can’t be a good day (hurrah for double negatives!), but usually there are two or three days in a week that are especially pleasant. On those particular days, the sun shines a little bit brighter, people are slightly more sympathetic, and all the little things that a day is made up of are somehow more delightful. Today, I saw a row of trees with matching lichen, watched as neighbours helped each other shovel their walks, and walked down my old block, among other things. There’s nothing exceptionally remarkable about those things, but the small things in life are my favourite ones I think. It’s so cool to see how detailed God’s creation is, whether in the way that water sticks to itself when my spoon slithers in and out of it, or the amusement of moving my static-y hair from side to side. On good days, these little things are magnified. When Jess and I were younger, we had designated “good days.” Friday was always a good day, and then usually another day, made special by a new episode of Star Trek or a visit from Auntie Anne and Uncle Tim with Frosty Dairy Desserts (it was necessary to call them “Frosty Dairy Desserts” rather than Frosties; I was a highly snobby child). On these good days, we would save our best underwear, favourite brightly-coloured tights, and save one of Grandma’s famous buns to eat on that day. I like that we were able to appreciate how wonderful it was that even underwear could be cool, and that a fist-sized homemade bun could make one’s day. I hope I never grow out of getting excited over trivial things; I’m quite sure that my parents haven’t grown out of the fascination with small details (my mom shouts exclamations of joy when she sees anything in a shade of robin egg blue), but I think it’s very easy for life to become slots of time rather than an experience of God’s creation. Life’s a feast for the senses; we have five of them for a reason.
Onto an equally self-indulgent topic, last night was Oscars night, and as aforementioned, they were rather fantastic as usual. I read quite a few articles by disappointed journalists this morning, and it’s true that the 79th Academy Awards were deficient in politics and ridiculousness, but the awards themselves were decently allocated (especially because I won the prediction competition, a fact which I will savour rubbing in for at least a few weeks). I was slightly appalled by the fact that The Departed earned Best Picture Oscar, just as Brokeback’s loss last year was so inexcusable, but at least Martin Scorsese finally earned his little statuette, albeit entirely out of sympathy. Ellen was overall disappointingly unfunny, and although John C. Reilly, Will Ferrell, and Jack Black partially made up for this fact, Jon Stewart certainly outshone her last year. Pan’s Labyrinth deservedly won a number of Oscars, and the Mexican award-acceptors for the movie were excellently cute and Mexican. Not so cute at the awards last night was Jack Nicholson; he is a mainstay at the Oscars, with his trademark glasses and incredible amusement at everything, but it really is disarming to see him sans-hair. Jess and I used to listen to this tape of the story of the Elephant's Child when we drove to and from Vancouver, and Jack Nicholson voiced the story; I will forever think of him as the horrifying and murderous crocodile , and seeing him with a chrome dome makes him seem all the more creepy and crocodilish.
Also bizarre in the hair department was my beloved Philip Seymour Hoffman, who looked strikingly similar to me when I was 2 and combed Zincofax (diaper cream) all through my hair. I realize that actors are forced to tolerate strange hairstyles for film roles, but couldn’t he have washed his hair prior to walking the red carpet? As for all the acting awards, I think the Academy chose well. Alan Arkin was wonderful in Little Miss Sunshine, and my family said that Forest Whitaker was brilliant in Last King of Scotland. Jennifer Hudson is so very adorable and ingenuous, and Helen Mirren embodies the sort of older person I’d like to be: dignified and intelligent, yet still silly enough to ham it up with Jamie Foxx and Vince Vaughn. Peter Sarsgaard and Maggie Gyllenhaal made an appearance at the awards, and not only was she wearing Proenza & Schouler (my favouritest designers of all), but they remain the cutest, smartest, and most likable celebrity couple of all. They're daughter Ramona Sarsgaard-Gyllenhaal is in very good hands. Perhaps my favourite moment of the night, next to the comedy musical, was Beyoncé's admirable attempt to appear not at all jealous of Jennifer Hudson; at one point, she had to sing the line "You're the best!" to J-Hud (as she is apparently now called), and her fake smile was so massive that I thought her lips might split in two. All in all, it was a first-rate night despite the group of us being tired for various reasons, namely returning from foreign countries, writing essays all weekend, and facing the grim prospect of school the next day.
Among the extraneous tidbits of my life, I miss reading week a wee bit. I slept 2 hours (a truly awful amount of time to sleep!) last night after editing my essay on the awfulness of racial profiling, and missed my first class due to issues with our upstairs printer, heretofore known as The Printer of Death. It was an interesting essay to research, and the issue has more complexity than I initially thought, but I’m glad to be done with reading about the horridness of American law enforcement and inherent Canadian racism. On a happy note, my gashed lip and toe from dancing are pretty much entirely healed, and I’ve missed not a single call on Owen since the weekend! Plus, I’m enjoying the spring cleaning that I did over reading week, despite the family room being taken over by Jess’ Rube Goldberg machine for Science Olympics. Her all-girl team is always really intense, and like to make all of their contraptions pink for some absurd reason; last year, they won the silver medal out of dozens of teams (they’re little mad scientists except with prettier hair). Jess recently got seriously gorgeous new glasses after Mitchell Buyer playfully threw his school bag at her face and broke her previous pair. They’re almost as cool as Jude Law’s specs in The Holiday.
Jess has also joined Facebook, which is really rather fun, except that she doesn’t quite understand how it works yet. I sent her a message days ago, she replied on her own wall (gasp!), and proceeded to simply delete her message. But basically this provides another opportunity for me to barrage Jess with my thoughts on various topics. The ability to tag her in pictures by which she is embarrassed is quite happifying as well. I’ve got a fun week of midterms ahead of me, so I should likely get to some reading and reviewing! Although I suspect that no amount of studying will help me with one Michael Snyder’s entirely capricious marking schemes (Betty and Nicole and I concur that he is certainly the worst professor we have ever encountered in our years at the University of Alberta; he derides refugees for pity’s sake). But studying does have its benefits, including the learning of strange terms, reason to create memory-aiding rhymes, and an excuse to do my laundry later on. I hope you're all having excellent Seasons of Lent; flowers and sunshine and Easter are just around the bend!
The Oscars were smashingly excellent, although they lacked the shock value and hilarity of last year, I must admit (there was nothing on par with the absurdity of Three 6 Mafia, and no speeches given in complete hysterics). I did, just for the record, win the award-winner-prediction contest, although Matt was only one behind (one of my correct guesses was disqualified by a highly biased jury), and I ate enough potato chips to feed a small country. There’s much to discuss about the Oscars, but I must keep this concise, as this is only my break from finishing a paper on racial profiling. I’ll have to write an Oscar entry later this week when school and work settle down a bit, and after I’ve heard the podcast’s feelings on the whole shebang. On another note, I’m quite sad to see reading week come to an end; it was a week full of silliness, partying with dear friends, much movie-watching, reading, and generally being languorous. I’m rather exhausted tonight after writing an essay for much of the day (that rhymed!), but I certainly had enough rest this past week to last a while. This is likely the most pointless blog entry of all time, but it made for a good break from reading about charter sections and examiner bias. Anyhow, discussion of racial profiling awaits!
P.S. It is true. I do bear a striking resemblance to the Oscar statuette. It’s simply uncanny.
I’ve been waiting for this day for a while now; not only am I done midterms until after reading week, but the Oscars are a mere ten days away (!!!), and tonight is TV bonanza night wherein Jess and I discover whether or not Meredith Grey survived her encounter with the choppy Seattle waters. Contrary to what certain people say, Grey’s Anatomy is rather suspenseful in many respects, and it is extremely possible that Meredith will kick the bucket tonight; a very small part of me hopes that she does die to prove my correctness. February is officially one of my favourite months; the days are getting exponentially longer (the sunrise this morning could actually be enjoyed while I munched on some breakfast!), and it’s jam-packed with my two favourite things to top all my thousands and thousands of favourite things: love and music. In my life, there always seem to be a couple of recurrent themes that I ponder at any given moment, varying from how colours mix together, to the merits conventional evangelism. Delightfully enough, music and love have been intermittent throughout this month, making for a good month indeed. Sunday night was Grammy night in Hollywood, and I was quite thrilled by the musical gong show, despite missing much of the ceremony while out at a feminist play with Caitlin (it was a seriously strange play, but written by a tormented soul, so I was correspondingly informed that I should appreciate it more).
I love that my whole family gets into the Grammys; my parents watched it upstairs in their room because they’re sleepyheads, while Jess and I watched downstairs in the family room, and throughout the show we yelled our excitement and thoughts on the performances and award recipients across the house. Quentin Tarantino announcing a nominee list in an at least slightly wasted state was almost a musical feat in itself; I’m pretty sure that he got up to 100 dB. Additionally, performances by Gnarls Barkley, Corrinne Bailie Rae, Mary J. Blige, and The Police made the night particularly memorable. We saw Sting and Annie Lennox in concert a couple of years ago, and he’s decidedly better with his old band than without them. Other mentionable musical events this month include new music from Acrade Fire, Bloc Party, Jann Arden, Sondre Lerche, The Shins, Clap Your Hands Say Yeah, and Nickelback (haha)! (Arcade Fire is playing SNL next weekend, too; I’m definitely taping that episode.) The release of CYSI Vol 2, which you really must have the CYSI Mail Service deliver, has also added to the month of February, and facilitates much dancing fun with Jess. There are a ton of new favourite songs contained on this release, including one about children of December. People born in December are the coolest people of all. FYI, I have come up with a new dance move which is actually the best thing ever. It’s really embarrassing to perform for other people, and thus I can’t show anyone but Jess, but you can trust me on this one.
My parents have been to a gazillion concerts as of late, and although I’ve been pretty jealous of their enjoyment of Alexander Escavado, and Emmylou Harris, Van Morrison, they give me hope that I can be just as much of an audiophile in 30 odd years (my mom turns 50 in a month; this is exceedingly exciting). For my entire life, I’ve been anomalous in terms of my maturity levels. Since I can remember, I’ve always liked pondering, discussing, writing, and getting involved in rather serious issues, be they political, spiritual, or intellectual. However, at the same time, I’m one of the nuttiest and most eccentric people I know (around really close friends and family; only Jess has seen the extent of my hardcore ridiculousness). Thus, growing up has been strange for me. I don’t really want to lose the harebrained side of me, and I feel as though I’ve known who I am in terms of my tastes, passions, concerns, callings, and beliefs since grade 8 (that was such a good year). Not to say that I haven’t had loads of growing up to do in the past decade or so, but it’s been an odd manner of maturing. I’m quite certain that I’m forever going to be an oddly intense, serious, and silly individual who has no interest in “traffic,” and I kind of like knowing that. I really, really love children and elderly people, above any other group of people, and this is in part because I relate to them most, I think. Children appreciate the small things in life, whether the colour of their favourite milk glass, or the insanity of Mary Poppin’s carpet bag. They know how to be spontaneous and creative, and aren’t afraid to be emotional. Most elderly people seem to have learned that life can be tragic and harsh much of the time, but know from experience that people and situations can be redeemed. They’ve realized what the important things in life are, and have a strong sense of who they are. I aspire to be a child at heart with an old soul.
As for the love theme in February, yesterday was obviously Love Day. At my house, this involves Jess and I making up horrifying love stories for each other (Jess is in love with Elvis Stojko, and enjoys hooking up with playas) while my parents are adorably cheesy and even more vomit inducingly affectionate, though this year Valentine’s festivities took place a day early as my dad is in Calgary playing various “unChristian" card games with his friends, among other things, for teacher’s convention. My grandma made us her world famous Valentine’s Day cookies, and I wore clothing in various shades of pink and red. “Rob” got Crystal flowers, which was so very sweet of him; only a truly magnificent person would get Crystal flowers for Valentine’s Day. Plus, I bought $18 worth of heart-shaped Belgian marshmallows on Tuesday (that’s a lot of Belgian marshmallows: mmmm…) and have been slowly munching on my considerable stockpile. There’s an awful lot of anti-Valentine’s rhetoric, but I really think it’s kind of silly. Valentine’s Day doesn’t have to be commercialized if you don’t want it to be; it’s only a superficial day if you let it be. It is silly only to tell the people you love loads and loads that you love them loads and loads once a year, but one day to do this especially, and to have fun with it, strikes me as kind of wonderful. Also, I think that St. Valentine was incredibly cool, and certainly deserves a day in semi-commemoration of his love of God, and love deserves at least one day where we think of it especially. After all, life at its very best is all about loving God, loving others, and loving life.
Providentially, I’ve been reading 1 John for the past two weeks. Yes reading four chapters in two weeks is kind of silly, but my devotions have been taking it slow recently; we’ve been reading 10 verses a day, but they’re such good verses with so much to unpack! 1 John is definitely a good book in the Good Book. John, or who we think was John at least, talks about love in such a great way, and his writing rings so true, and gives me much cause to think. I could talk about love for ages and ages, and would likely bore everyone, so I’ll restrain myself, but suffice it to say that reading John’s thoughts on a temporally appropriate subject makes me smile. Onto an unrelated topic, my family’s going to see John Mayer in April. We love John Mayer sooo much, and have been huge fans ever since Heavier Things. My mom recently signed us up for his fan club, so that we could reap the benefits of being official Mr. Jessica Simpson aficionados, and resultingly we had first dibs on tickets to the concert. WE’RE SITTING IN THE SEVENTEENTH ROW. ON THE FLOOR. Words cannot express my excitement! John Mayer is supposed to be simply awesome live, and I’ll be done exams by April 28, so it should be a perfectly lovely night out. I can’t wait until the end of April!! I’m hoping to find a job working with children, and plan to do a great deal of camping, longboarding, and adventure-making this summer. My parents are going to NYC too (they’re such copycats), so I’m so stoked for them!
Another exciting upcoming event is reading week! Crocheting, catching some films, a party or two, lunching with friends, sunrise walks in the river valley, baking, making movies with Andrew, and reading await. Plus, my family has the long weekend for family day, so we can have extra fun; we’re watching Half Nelson tomorrow when my dad returns home from his Cow Town bonanza, and a weekend spent with Jess promises to be great fun. We’ve now compiled Jess’ grad outfit, and it’s so deliciously pretty! Jess caved, and chose the shoes that I liked and she didn’t, and her dress is BCBG Max Azaria (the best dresses of all time!). My smarty-pants sister is going to be über-gorgeous at Grad 2007. Also over reading week is the C&C missions trip to Jamaica, which I’m so excited about for all of my friends heading over to the Land of Rasta. Crystal is taking my horrifically disgusting money belt (pictured coming through my belt loops in NYC on the left), and has promised to search high (haha… high… Rasta…) and low for a crochet Rasta hat for me. I’ll be praying for you guys and can’t to wait to hear all of your stories! I’ll miss hearing from you all for an entire week. As an aside to my small group members, the C&C Courier comes out very soon, and you know what that means; we must chat after you return from Jamaica-ness! In other news, my dad is officially the best dressed teacher of the dozens of staff members at his school, according to his students. The girls of our family are rather proud of this. We’re kind of intense about how my dad dresses, and frequently purchase random articles of clothing for him that are lovely and fun while on shopping escapades. At last, all of our attention to his wardrobe had paid off! I’m about to head off for a walk outside to make the most of this wonderful weather (clearly the groundhogs were correct!), but I hope that all of you are having splendid weeks full of love, music, and all other good things! I love you!
Joyful Things Recently - journaling - the fresh layer of snow - 1 John - CBC Radio - cookies, cottage cheese, and chocolate rainbow ice cream - the way my halogen lamp lights up my eyelashes like bulbous Christmas lights (you too should notice this) - being an expert money-saver - heart-shaped marshmallows - blankets - my new Weimeraner calendar - new music videos - eating out with friends - my $3.99 daffodils - walks down Saskatchewan Drive - feminist plays - cooking (I’m getting kind of good at it!) - watching sunrises and sunsets from the gigantic windows at work - green tea with honey - having a clean room - discussion of Aboriginal issues in Poli Sci - CYSI Vol 2 - incredibly wonderful professors - Jess’ grad dress!!! - my new dance move that involves jumping whilst letting my arms flail about (simply awesome) - Grey's Anatomy, The Office, and The OC - pranking Crystal/Rob - my teddy bear being washed - Pokey and Gumby figurines - making people blush by bringing up romantic things - Charles Bukowski - articles about music and the emergent church - playing Slaps with Jess - Motorcycle Diaries on DVD
Bands to Ch-Ch-Ch-Ch-Ch-Check Out - not the Beastie Boys - Architecture in Helsinki - Julian Nation - Rosie Thomas (BFF of Sufjan and Denison!!!) - Jens Lekman - Sondre Leche - Damon Naomi - Purnice Brothers - M. Ward - Philip Glass
P.S. Charles Bukowski’s poetry is simply incredible. He writes things in a way that no one else can, or at least no one else dares to. P.P.S. Journaling is totally my new favourite activity. Like blogging, except even more self-indulgent and wordy (hard to imagine, I know!). I write at least a few times a day now, and it’s so freeing and delightful. P.P.P.S. I put up a massive Nacho Libre poster on my wall today that my uncle bestowed upon Jess and I. While it sounds corny, the poster is actually beautiful; I love Mexican wrestler masks. And Jack Black. P.P.P.P.S. An election is coming soonish! I can feel it in my bones! Yaaay! P.P.P.P.P.S. I have a new Compassion child, named Daniel José Jaminez Romèro. He likes soccer, his grandpa, and playing group games! He's pretty much my Colombian twin except that he's 5 years old (pictured above; sooo cute!!!!!!!). P.P.P.P.P.P.S. Most postscriptsever! I love hyperlinks.
The world is not respectable; it is mortal, tormented, confused, deluded forever; but it is shot through with beauty, with love, with glints of courage and laughter; and in these, the spirit blooms.
I'm a Christian who is rather fond of people. Love is my favourite thing of all, followed closely by sunshine, laughter, friends, and family. I like learning new things, and am continually humbled by how much I still have to learn about life and God and myself. I think that life is enriched by community and an awareness of the beauty in all the little details. While the world can be ugly and unjust and severe, I believe that there's always hope.
To laugh often and much, to win the respect of intelligent people and the affection of children, to earn the appreciation of honest critics and endure the betrayal of false friends, to appreciate beauty, to find the best in others, to leave the world a bit better, whether by a healthy child, a garden patch... to know even one life has breathed easier because you have lived. This is to have succeeded.
Hello friends. It’s been a while since I’ve sent salutations via the blogosphere, and for that I apologize (but only slightly, because some things in life are more important than blogging). Life is, as usual, mostly good. Some of the thoughts running through my head at the moment aren’t suited very well for Internet discussion, but I’d love to chit-chat about them over a mug of tea or a swing ride or a walk through the river valley. I did lots of working, learning, biking, listening, dating, reading, and praying over the summer, and while I kind of miss the carefree nights and lovely moments spent outdoors, it seems fitting to move into a new season. I’m excited for this fresh term of school, another semester spent with C&Cers, new music and movies and TV, learning more about God, and a job that I love. The summer brought about some changes, which have made life a bit more full and interesting. Donald Miller writes about how change is vital because a shift from our “normal” lives gives us perspective to see how “un-normal” our lives are. It’s easy to take the little (and big) blessings for granted when they look the same everyday, so I’ve found that changing up my routines and priorities is healthy (although as Crystal will tell you, I like little changes, but big changes are often dreadfully unappealing to me). Life has seemed kind of hectic over the past few weeks with school and work and church things, but c’est la vie when you’re a working student, I suppose. Plus, there’s always time to indulge in some of my favourite things once in a while, whether a bike ride with Hessica, a phone conversation with Matt, or a good read.
On the topic of things I’m grateful for, it was Thanksgiving this past weekend, one of those annual holidays that affords one the opportunity to think back on the past year and recognize all the things I have to be thankful for. I spent most of the weekend with both sides of my family, which was lovely. If I grow up to be half as cool as my aunties, uncles, parents, and grandparents, I’ll be pretty insanely cool. Over the years, they’ve learned how to really appreciate the fullness of life, how to love others to the best of their abilities, and how to gain insight and perspective. We had lots of laughs together, along with mountains of food, and I was blessed by our time spent together. Of course, at each of these family get-togethers, Jess was my lovely seating companion, which brings along with it a number of things to be thankful for. For example, did you know that by simply aiming a camera lens in Jess’ general vicinity, she will perform a highly entertaining fit of rage for you? Or that she is always available for discussion of the evolutionary value of berries and orange leaves? Or that she will bake cookies for you on a whim? She does all that, and much more. She’s a wonderful friend, and I’m mucho-grateful for her. Another person who it’s possible that I might potentially want to mention on the topic of my thankfulness is Mr. Matthew Barker. After a while of dating this charming fellow, I’ve conclusively determined that he’s truly lovely, and that I’m awfully lucky to be able to share good talks, pretty music, sporting events, and general shenanigans with him. It’s odd that being with someone could make me so ridiculously happy, but this is certainly the case. I hadn’t really imagined that I’d click with someone like we do, so I feel fortunate to have found that. I could go on and on about Matt, but I’ll leave it at that. I want to keep blogging, but I've decided that it's not quite worth it to go into lengthy thoughts, so blogging might become more of an update on my life. I do enjoy getting my thoughts out in written form, but I think it's good for blogging to be a bit lower on my list of priorities. Keep checking in though, I'm still here! I pray that all of you had restful long weekends, and have cause to be thankful for life’s blessings, both large and trivial.
