Times Past, Present, and Future

I do realize that I’ve been anything but an assiduous blogger as of late, but feeling guilt over something as trivial as a blog seems unwarranted. I make only a small apology to any individuals out there who might actually pop into this corner of the Internet from time to time, and whose annoyance grows stronger every time they are greeted by my October entry when the page finishes loading. Since my marked blogging decline, my main hits on this site seem to be directed from my Flickr profile or random searches on Google. (Last week, I was the #1 result on Google for search terms including “great unity nipple,” “nonsomnia,” “nude acrobats on a beach,” and “Belgian marshmallows.”) Life, as usual, is very good, but often busy. There never seems to be enough time to spend with people, or to enjoy the things that I delight in the most. Every night I like to make a list of things that brightened my day, and while there’s never a lack of fodder for my Happy List, sometimes I wish that there were a few extra days in each week to add to that fodder. Not that lengthening the weeks would help very much unless it subsequently lengthened our life spans, but I’d like to imagine that it would.

Fortunately, this leap year February graced us with an extra day, and I mostly managed to take advantage of the 29-day-month. Matt and I visited the art gallery, Upper Crust, and waterpark, three of my very favourite places. It’s always a joy to be able to share my favourite things with my favourite person. I packed in as many movies as I could before the Oscars, with the assistance of this strange Chinese web site that offers a wide selection of poor quality streaming movies (there probably is a more technical way of saying this that Dad and Matt would correct me on, but Google is not providing any better description). Heretofore, I hadn’t watched a movie without paying for it, except for once by accident, and I’m still not sure how I feel about the ethics of it all, but I really wanted to see all the Best Picture nominees beforehand and had no time besides late at night during reading week. Plus, Jess’ preferred Chinese web site even provides me with Mandarin subtitles with every movie so I can follow along.

I didn’t have any strong favourites of the 5 films, although Atonement was probably my top pick of the bunch, given that I wept profusely during its final scenes. I thought that There Will be Blood was very well done, but I wasn’t really moved by it. At all. My family insists that I must watch it on a regular TV to actually get the point of the film, but I’m skeptical. I was sad to read today that the Oscar ratings dropped to a record low this year, because I derive so much enjoyment from both the anticipation and actual evening itself. Jon Stuart was great as usual, and there were several dresses that Jess and I ogled over (Cameron Diaz, Keri Russel, and Jennifer Garner earned particularly loud shrieks from our side of the room). Crystal even dressed up in suspenders and a blazer for the occasion. Highlights of the night included Marketa Irglova’s belated acceptance speech, the absurdity of the Rock presenting an Oscar, and As per usual, I won the Oscar pool, and there were no real shockers besides the actress categories, but the speeches and Binocular/Periscope montage added sufficient excitement to keep me on the edge of my seat.

In other inconsequential news, the crotchetiness of my stomach is now rivaled only by Scrooge and the Grinch. I cannot eat most raw fruits and vegetables without having painful contractions by my cardia sphincter (fancy word!), which my doctor has told me nothing can be done about. Thus, I am limited to a potentially scurvy-inducing diet at times. Additionally, I now develop heartburn alarmingly easily, and take Tums most days. This isn’t really that unpleasant, and there are far worse plights that people face health-wise, but I do sometimes feel as though my body is falling apart at the young age of 22. I’m popping Tums like elderly men do, and feel sort of ridiculous when I have to explain to people why exactly I don’t want a piece of the apple that they’re offering me. On the digression of food and drink, I’m still toiling away at your local neighbourhood Second Cup, and loving it a great deal. I am now officially the veteran at the café, with my three years there being longer than anyone else’s residence at my dear place of employment (even longer than my boss’ 2 years). I feel blessed to be able to talk to my customers and fellow baristas about everything from God to boyfriends to the average cost of a marijuana joint, and never have a dull day when I work.

I’ll continue to work at the café over the summer while I take courses to finish up my degree (and graduate!!), and then plan on finding an actually decent-paying job and MOVING OUT. I’ve been quite lucky to avoid racking up student debt and live with my splendid family up until now, but it seems that there is a point in one’s adult life when it comes time to be independent and pay one’s own water, gas, and phone bills. It has always been agreed upon in my family that I would find a place of my own when I finished my undergrad degree, but I must admit that it’s a bit strange (and exciting and scary) that that time is nigh. I’ll be taking this next year off to work and figure things out before likely heading back to school next fall for a couple more years. I have a fabulous and kind-hearted roommate to potentially shack up with, and we did some thrilling house-hunting last night (or apartment-hunting as Matt would like me to qualify). I’m getting pretty keyed up. I have crafted the most beautiful monthly budget for the next year, with lots of Excel bells and whistles, and have made Jess come and admire its majesty too many times to count. I open my budget every single day at least once in anticipation of how organized and frugal I’m going to be. Matt is also going to be finding a decent-paying job and MOVING OUT (although it’s less scary for him because he’s already lived without parental supervision), and he too has arranged to live with a fabulous and kind-hearted roommate (in an area that I can actually bike/walk to with relative ease!). Planning ahead for things as grown up as living sans-parents for the first time can be quite uncertain and tricky, but God has come through big time in working so many things out. I feel lucky.

I’m blogging in part because I’m using this blog towards my ePortfolio for a course I’m taking on Children and the Web (as in the World Wide Web), one of the 5 great classes I’m taking this term. Being in my last year of my Bachelor’s degree has been bittersweet at times, because I really am going to miss some of my courses and university life so very, very much. This time of life is quite unique, and being entrenched in an academic environment like the UofA has profoundly changed the way I see the world and think about it. Not that I was an uninformed and close-minded teenager coming into university (egotistically, I think I was anything but that), but I’ve learned so much, both life lessons and scholastic lessons, over the past 4 years that I feel a sense of ignorance that I’ve never felt before. There’s so much that I now see I have left to learn, and I see a world full of questions and challenges that I’ve yet to figure out. I feel less comfortable leaving science and logic alone to answer these questions, and am not quite so assured about the things that I once felt so certain of. I’ve come to recognize that I don’t understand everything, and a lot of my questions will remain unanswered in my lifetime. I’ve made a boatload of mistakes, which I hope I’ve learned from, and I’ve grown into a Christian whose a bit more mature than the self-possessed 17-year-old I was coming out of high school. Over the course of this thing that we call a post-secondary education, I’ve made some lifelong friends, become an expert on psychology, found a home in a new church, hopefully become a bit of a better person, and fallen quite deeply in love. There are things I regret, and things I’m proud of, but most of all, I’m excited to find out what God has in store.

There never really comes a point where I’ve exhausted my ammo to ramble aimlessly with, but there is a point at which (if there are any of you still reading this), readers must inevitably tire of my thoughts. Thus, I’ll leave this entry at that, and try to update you soon on all things Cait-related. Hopefully I’ll get to see some of you in person in the near(ish) future, or I will fire an email your way soon (especially if your name also happens to include the initials CJ). I trust that you’re all relishing the first signs of spring, and are eagerly awaiting the arrival of Easter!

P.S. My blog is so much more meaningful than Matt’s occasional music posts. I still like him (and his blog) though.
P.P.S. Sigur Rós' Heima can now be seen on YouTube. Watch it.
P.P.P.S. The horrid bunny that resides under my family’s balcony and spies on me at all times of the day, and is very dissimilar from the Eater bunny, has returned. I loathe the balcony bunny.
P.P.P.P.S. Puddle-splashing season has arrived. Hoo-ray!!

On Being Vulnerable and Enjoying Summer

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.