tales of a silly-heart

a tribute to someone who died

2007-03-30T13:42:00.000-05:00

For those who don't know, my great Aunt Annie passed away a couple of weeks ago. Her life was such a testament to her faith and her devotion to God. It is a life that I long to emmulate any way that I can. I wanted to share a bit about her life with the rest of you.

My great auntie listened to the call of God in her life when she was only 12 years old. She was baptized at 13, and determined to spend her life serving God overseas. When she graduated high school, there wasn't enough money for her to go to Bible school, so she took up a job as a seamstress and gradually collected the needed funds. She was 26 when she set out for Colombia.

Aunt Annie is a woman that I admire very much and have grown to love and respect throughout my life. She is someone who has really lived her life to the fullest in a way that I only hope I can someday achieve. She spent more than half of her life (age 26 until her early 60s) pioneering the mission field in the jungles of Colombia.
She returned to North America only for short furloughs which she spent teaching and preaching, which in those days, was rare for women. When she finally retired around the age of sixty, she returned home and married Sam, a man with whom she had been corresponding for several months and falling in love with. They had almost twenty years of marriage, behaving like newlyweds until Uncle Sam died when I was about 16. Aunt Annie mourned him, but continued to live her life in ministry. And now her time is drawing to a close, and she is more than ready to go and be with Jesus.
While Aunt Annie lay dying in the palliative care ward, my mom was like her guardian angel, sitting with her, singing, bringing flowers, dealing with nurses and other visitors. My mom was there when the pain was too bad for Aunt Annie to sleep. She was there when Aunt Annie could no longer get out of bed to go to the bathroom. And she was there when Aunt Annie took her very last breath on this earth. All through that time, Aunt Annie showed no fear, only determination to meet with her Savior. In her last hours, when she could barely move, she raised her arms up toward the Heavens, as though reaching for her Jesus, so visible to her already.

I don't know many people of whom I can say this, but my great auntie really lived her life to the fullest in the Godliest way she knew. And now she has reached Heaven, she has received the crown she so deserves, and she is in close- closer than ever!- communion with the Savior she so longed for.

This world is not my home, I'm just a-passin' through...

a few more things that have happened

2007-03-07T15:06:00.000-06:00

Some more things have happened in the last few days. Not terribly exciting, but they have happened nonetheless.

#1. I got new sunglasses. The really big ones that kind of look like science goggles. Now I look like all the cool girls.

#2. This city is like one big puddle. Aside from the last few days of frozeness, there has been slush galore. And it is only getting worse. I'm so thankful to no longer be a patron of city transit, which is a dirtier activity than one might guess.

#3. Due to the aforementioned weather conditions, I spent all of last week wearing dirty pants, having had no time to do laundry.

#4. Jonny and Karen are finally engaged!!! Congratulations to you both!!!

#5. Erin and Joel are also engaged!!! Don't forget your toothbrushes!!!

#6. Tyler has moved to live on the next street over, just an alley or two away. Welcome to the hood! You know where to come for that cup o' sugar.

#7. There is a fugue by Bela Bartok that I just can't wait (sarcasm) to analyze. Mmmm, I just love (sarcasm again) analyzing tonal aspects and subject content.

#8. We had a really fun brunch with Kendall and Sabrina on the weekend. We missed you, Bryan and Leanne...hopefully you can make it next time.

#9. Stefan shrunk my two favourite t-shirts. Don't worry honey, I'm not mad at you anymore...really.

So now the oven timer is buzzing that its time to put the sheets and towels into the dryer, and Bartok awaits, and I must fly. Have a jolly day, doing something more exciting than the mundane!

things that have happened

2007-02-21T17:21:00.000-06:00

So it has been awhile, hasn't it? Much has come and gone. I'm not going to dwell on busyness or exhaustion becuause I know that most of us out there are in that February slump, are we not? Doesn't really matter. Today has been decent, and all we are doing for now is living one day at a time, despite how fun it is to dream about the future....come to think of it, dreaming about the future is sometimes what gets you through.
Another thing that gets me through is thinking about all the little things that make me laugh or bring me peace. Like today, it snowed. But not just your regular flakes of snow; it was little balls. Not quite hail, but just mini snowballs pelted down on the city. Very peculiar.
And I made cookies. Dozens of them! Just your average chocolate chip cookies, stinking up the apartment so Stefan actually smelled them as soon as he set foot in the building.
So I won't bore you with the non-details of a student's busy life, but I will bring you up to date on some of the funny, happy things you may have missed:

#1. I received a flat iron for my birthday, and I used it on Stefan's famous curls. Then he played volleyball with his flowing mane in a ponytail on top of his head.

#2. Stefan and I went with my grandparents out into the wilderness to cut down our first Christmas tree.

#3. Kume and Dawite put on a show for us one evening, and Dawite wore a little girl's blue figure skating leotard. Enough said.

#4. I sang with my choir in an honest-to-goodness concert hall with a full piece orchestra AND people paid actual money to see it.

#5. Stefan made supper one night and put six times the spice into the curry, and twice the milk into the pudding.

#6. We washed the car on a minus 40 day.

#7. I watched an old home movie of one of Stefan's figure skating carnivals from when he was a kid. They were skating to the "Yellow Polka Dot Bikini" song.

#8. We spent the days between Christmas and New Years' traipsing around with a cut out of Simon's head on a stick so he could be in our family Christmas pictures.

#9. I finally won a game of Settlers.

#10. A bunny lives in our back alley.

So that's ten things that have happened that likely I would have mentioned had we been on the phone or out for coffee. It pretty much sums up life outside of school and work.

So there you have it.

i have not given up on summer, though winnipeg has

2006-10-16T09:42:00.000-05:00

Hey, I hope somebody still reads this big bad blog....I admit it; I am a shame to the blogging world. I only hope that someone will stick around to read the juicy married life post (as demanded by Camille) I am about to leave.
Married life has been very sweet over the summer, full of evening strolls, camping trips and enjoying the little things in life, like cooking in my tiny kitchen and slowly spending all those gift cards. Stefan and I are on our way to understanding what it means to be one. There have been bumps- even potholes- but I can say that things are off to a wonderful start. Fighting is somewhat rare (seriously), and I think I can safely say that so far, there is nothing better than being married to someone that you love with all your heart and feeling God's blessing in that. We have spent our summer days working and playing, learning and teaching.
Winnipeg has given up on summer. Leaves and rain are falling, and yes, there has already been a little snow and frost to scrape off the car window as I rush, late again, to jump in the car for my 8:30 class. Its as though the city is entering into its hibernation. Things are slowing down at the coffee shop where I work. The schoolwork pulls me inside to where I toil endlessly over those silly theory assignments that I can't seem to ever do quite perfectly. And outside, the city breathes cold air on the trees. Very strange, this fall has seemed to me.
As you all know, there have been many changes in my life this year. I've gained a husband and a new family, left behind a family in Saskatchewan, started life in a new city and a new home, battled numerous minor sicknesses (including homesickness), learned what it means to work shift work, tasted international travel, and learned what it means to make priorities. Well, I'm still working on that last one. And though the stresses of change (both wonderful and not so easy) have taken their toll on my body, my emotions remain semi-steady and there is no sign of heading back to that little pink pill I so eagerly gave up almost a year ago.
It seems like a million years since that sweet, warm summer weather. The coldness of university and the buzz of busyness can drag us down sometimes...well, a lot of the time. But I haven't given up on summer. This was the sweetest summer I have ever known, I will tresure it in these cold winter months, using it to brighten those days that seem so dreary. I will hold those days close as an inspiration to love the moments I am in as much as those I have loved in the past.
What else is there to say, really? I should probably do some homework. I say that a lot these days.

Love.

home again, home again

2006-07-21T21:05:00.000-05:00

So I'm sure that most of you are pretty sick of that stupid "frustrated bride" title. Here is an update: I am home and I am no longer a frustrated bride!

Married life so far has been pretty great. Actually I'm loving it. The wedding day was a blast. For those of you who came, thanks so much for your presence. For those who did not, thank you for your prayers and support. I'll be posting pictures soon.
Our marriage began with a really fun honeymoon in Dominican Republic. We stayed about ten steps from the beach in an all-inclusive resort on the northern coast of the island. The ocean was clear and warm and the sun shone for the whole week. Stefan and I had a lot of fun swimming and snorkeling and sleeping.
We returned home at the end of May and hid out until our phone got hooked up. Then it was back to work: me at Second Cup, and Stefan to his parents' farm. And since then, the summer has been pretty easy going. We've been back to my parents' home for Hailey's grad (you were beautiful, sweetheart), and hurried back through the night for Danae's grad (equally beautiful). We've done some camping and seen some friends and spent many evenings watching Seinfeld in our non-A/C apartment with the windows wide open and the fans blowing. We've had a blast opening all of our gifts over the period of two weeks or so, and also deciding what to spend our gift cards on. I'm loving it.
So yes, I am now back, without a computer, so the posts and emails will be few and possibly far between. Hopefully everyone will be patient. Those of you who live in the area, please feel free to stop by Second Cup and say hello.

the frustrated bride

2006-04-08T13:18:00.000-05:00

This was supposed to be a happy post. I haven't posted for more than a month, and I was going to do this cute little light-hearted one, but unfortunatey, it is not to be.
Its not as though good things aren't happening. On the outside life is all peachy and sweet. Stefan and I have found a nest to call our own, and I've found work just four blocks away. Good things, right? I have friends and family around me. Spring is in the air and my wedding is about forty days away. Why shouldn't I be the picture of happiness?
Well, today I am not. There is so much negativity surrounding me. I'm sick of the complaining and agonizing over such very unimportant things. I'm sick of being told what to do by everyone, as though I haven't thought things through for myself already. I am a somewhat grown up person here. And I have common sense...just imagine that. I feel like I can't move without being questioned or instructed on something.
And the shallowness of life! Where has it come from? Where did all the depth go? Why am I suddenly so wrapped up in what I'm going to wear somewhere, or how my hair is, or how hard I have to study, or who I need to impress? I feel like I have no heart anymore.
The frustrated bride; that's what I am. I feel like I don't have a right to be, with all the great things happening in my life. There are upsides...of course there are. I want to sign off this entry angrily and stubbornly and refuse to see hope, but I somehow feel like I would be letting someone down. So I'll throw in a shrug and a wink, and wishing that I was the type of person who drank away her troubles (I don't even like alcohol), I'll jump into a hot shower, and then spend some time at the piano. Maybe I'll feel better after that.

why i am like peter pan

2006-03-03T18:31:00.000-06:00

Last night Stefan and I, along with a bunch of Bethany people, went to the kick-off concert for Steve Bell's "My Dinner With Bruce" tour. All I can say is wow, what a night! Its hard to convey exactly how wonderful it was. It was a very relaxing evening. Steve Bell, besides being a superb musician, also has a heart of gold and a stage presence that puts the audience at ease. His insights into the Word, and his stories about his life and his family felt so familiar, like having coffee with someone in a warm place while it rains outside.
He had along with him his stand-up bass player, Gilles Somebody(?), and his piano player, Mike Janzten. A word to Michelle Jeschke, if she's reading this: I understand everything you said about Mike Jantzen that night in the dorm, and if I wasn't engaged, I'd be more than agreeing. This man was fantastic! He plays like no one I've ever heard before. That was quite an experience, hearing him rip up those keys. I kept thinking to myself, "That has to be in me somewhere. Why won't it come out of my fingers?"
Steve Bell was also promoting a younger artist's new album. Her name was Diana Props, and she was great. She is an incredible poet and lyricist, and she had this sweet, smoky voice, and again I found myself thinking, "I know that's in me. Where is my chance to let it out?"
Because you see, my friends, I used to have this dream. I had a dream of singing for people and making them cry or laugh or love or get angry or whatever. I wrote things down; pieces of my soul wrapped in looseleaf and tied with melodies and notes. Very few people ever heard them; only those who asked. I once got up the guts to perform an original at a Bethany talent night. It went well. That is as close as I've gotten.
I'm not a performer...at least, I don't think I am. I have no desire to show off skill, but I do have a desire to lead people into places they don't usually go with my music. I used to dream of doing that from a stage, alone, with a piano and my voice. Now I dream of doing that in hospitals with children or in care homes with seniors, maybe on the odd Sunday from a church piano leading songs. I'm a little misty right now, as I realize that I've grown up and left those more glittery and sparkly dreams behind. The little girl in me, the one who still longs to be noticed and approved of, she wants to clumsily put on her lipstick and enter the spotlight to wow some people. But the more grown up me, the one in university who worries about money, she hasn't even thought of those dreams since...well, I don't exactly remember.
This is all very random; another realization of growing up. Those always hit me at the strangest times. I suddenly realize that I can't stop time. And it hurts.
Do something for me. Dream tonight; something childish, something far away and glittery, and hold it in your heart for as long as you can. And tell me about it, if you're comfortable.

two things i always talk about: weddings and the transit system

2006-02-20T20:10:00.000-06:00

Hmmm...yes the posting has definitely been sporadic in the last month or so. Well, it shall now improve. Maybe. Let's hope.
Spring break was awesome. Stefan and I went home to Saskatchewan and had a great time with my family. They were all awesome sports putting our wedding invitations together for, like, 5 hours on Sunday. Kudos to you all! It is much appreciated.
Besides that, we got SO much done in the way of planning. I got a little stressed in the middle of it all, but I had around me a very competent team of bridesmaids, lead by the mother of the bride and supported by the ever-charming groom. So things are definitely off and running. Invitations will hopefully be all sent out soon. The flowers, photographer, and reception hall are all booked. The caterer is waiting for menu confirmation. The favours are even bought. And we found Stefan a suit at an extremely too good to be true price. Its almost like I have nothing to worry about anymore...which of course isn't entirely true, but a large burden has been lifted, and I find myself able to breathe again.
Speaking of weddings (which I've been doing a lot of lately...sorry if you're bored), I had a really nice conversation with my regular Richmond Express driver today. We always say hello and make the odd comment, but today I stayed up front and chatted with him. He's a very sweet man. I've probably mentionted him before; you know, the one I think of as Rich, just because he drives the Richmond Express. Anyway, he was really excited for me when he heard I was planning a wedding, and I found myself telling him all about it. And then he started telling me about his daughter, and how she was planning a wedding for the same weekend as mine will be, and how he and his wife had also been married at the same time years ago. It was an altogether wonderful moment of feeling supported and encouraged by the excitement of a stranger for a young student who happens to ride his bus three days a week. It was very honouring for me. One of those warm, fuzzy moments, you know? Anyway...I guess I'm the type of person who tries to make an effort to be interested in the lives of others, whether I know them or not, and it really feels cool to have some stranger do it back. So now I have a new resolve to continue lighting people up the way Rich lit up my spirit today.
Rich...that's so silly. Like the transit people would match drivers and bus routes according to the names of the drivers. I mean, where on earth would they find someone named Broadway? Or Whidden Gate? Well, I guess there's probably somebody called Whidden Gate living in the Hamptons, or maybe in a really wealthy area of London. I suppose I might not ever know, and I suppose I'm comfortable with that.

Until next time...

the long awaited ring pictures...blurry

2006-02-02T17:59:00.000-06:00

So here they are, finally. The pictures of the ring! Every girl has to show it off, as you know, so here is my turn. I love my ring (not as much as the man who gave it to me, but close). Sorry the pictures are unclear, but hopefully you get the idea.
Stefan had this ring designed for me and spent weeks searching the city for a goldsmith who would make it for him. They all seemed to think it was impossible, but not Zimmy Diamonds.
My ring is white gold, with an ideal round cut diamond. It has a four prong setting, and that is what makes it look somewhat square. The design Stefan created included all the little things I liked about the rings we saw when we went shopping. He had to get two rings cut up to make my dream piece of jewelry. My favourite part of it is that when you look through the trellis part that holds the diamond in place, you can see the point on the bottom of the diamond. That was the part that everyone said was so impossible. They said there had to be something supporting it. But we knew better, because we had seen them like this. Anyway, now that its all said and done, I am extremely happy with my ring and I can't wait to wear it every day for the rest of my life.
To tell you the truth, all this wedding stuff is kind of overwhelming to me right now. I'm feeling pretty stressed. School is still very much a priority and I don't want it to slip too far. My mom, a province away, is helping hugely making phone calls and finding info and booking things, and otherwise, I'm not at a stage where I need tons of help right now, so I'm kind of stuck. I had a good cry with my mom on the phone today, though, and I feel better. I've been getting lots of advice from people not to get stressed, to have fun, to enjoy because this time is so short, and I understand all that advice, but right now, I am stressed, and no amount of telling myself not to be is going to change that. What will change it is prayer and rest and accomplishing my goals, telling myself that soon the major stuff will be over and I will be able to relax.
Anyway, I'm also pleased to report that, despite the stress, I'm still really excited and falling in love more everyday, and I'm really overwhelmed by the support and encouragement I'm receiving from the people around me. Thanks to you all!

And this is what it looks like on my finger!

So now, I'm going to continue in my half hour to be still. I leave you with my newest favourite verse, probably to be the theme of my wedding.

"If we love one another, God abides in us, and His love is perfected in us." -1John 4:19

pictures of love

2006-01-18T15:19:00.000-06:00

Here are some pictures of the whole delightfully blurry weekend of my engagement!

About 20 minutes after the proposal.

On the bridge where the proposal happened.

Big dreams for our future together.

We have our whole lives ahead of us to spend together.

And we're really looking forward to it.

Thank you to all of you who have already blessed us with your support and prayers and encouragement! It means more than you know!

the man that i love

2006-01-14T23:14:00.000-06:00

Well, you may or may not have heard, but you definitely should know some very exciting news. I'm engaged! And so is Stefan! And we're engaged to each other!
This very exciting event occured on Friday (yes, the 13th). After a nice dinner at The Melting Pot, Stefan took me on an unfamiliar ride through the city, bringing the car to a stop on some residential street. We got out of the car to walk, and I suddenly found myself at the BDI Bridge. This bridge has been a special place for Stefan and me. In fall, we would often walk to BDI for ice cream, and the tradition continued long after the summer ice cream stand closed. However, we always approached it from Jubilee, and this time, we came from the other side, which totally obscured my navigation.
Being a chillier night, naturally we were a little shivery, but let me tell you, I have never seen a man shake like Stefan was shaking once we got on the bridge. We stood there for awhile, taking in the view of the frozen river in the moonlight. He kept trying to say these beautiful things, but he was shaking too hard (more from nerves than cold) to really get them out. Finally he said, "I don't know how to say this, but..." And then his knee hit the ground and the ring box came up, and before I knew it, the question had been asked and accepted, and a beautiful diamond was placed on my finger (with shaking hands, I might add).
We left our little spot quickly after our private celebration, and Stefan told me that we were going to his parents' place to break the news. As we drove down Pembina, he told me that his throat was dry from the nervousness, and he needed to stop at Tim Horton's for a drink. So we stopped and went in, and the first thing I saw was my parents. In Winnipeg. Not in Saskatchewan. Stefan had phoned them to ask permission, and then to tell them when it was happening so they could be there to hear the news.
I broke down then and there. Being without my family in Winnipeg for an event like this was pretty heart wrenching for me, but the man I love came through for me, as he tends to do in so many ways. It was so wonderful to see my parents sitting there, even though they were totally engrossed in their hangman game, and didn't even see us come in.
We visited Stefan's parents and sisters and brother as well that night, and I called my brother and sister, so the whole immediate family knew right away. Today was spent visiting all the family in the area, and then phoning all the family and friends that weren't in the area. We had an immediate family engagement dinner tonight, and plans are beginning to be made.

Now that things have quieted for the day, and I am able to be silent and alone for awhile, I must take the opportunity to praise the Lord for the wonderful blessing He has bestowed upon me in Stefan. He is a man who seeks the heart of God, in who I believe and of who I am proud. All my love to you, forever and ever, my dear. I'll see you in the morning.

back to life

2006-01-03T20:10:00.000-06:00

A new year began a couple of days ago. It is a rather small change, in the grand scheme of things, despite all the hype made about it. Trashing old calendars in favor of new ones hardly compares to buying a new car or losing your job. However, the latter two events never rate as huge a party as the days of Auld Lang Syne.
I brought in the New Year at Charlotte's, arriving just in time for the less-than-rousing countdown, followed by a hearty kiss and some good conversation with people I hadn't seen in awhile. It was nice to relax and have some fun on my first night back here.
Christmas vacation lasted about two weeks for me, and I spent it in Saskatchewan with my family. Stefan joined us for Christmas for the first time (until returning home for his family Christmas), and we all made a jolly time of the season with carolling and skating and presents and way too much food. I saw many friends that I have missed dearly, and spent some much needed quiet time in the sanctuary of the little grey bungalow I grew up in.
It was wonderful to see Simon and Hailey after such a long time apart, and it was a relief to see that, though time has passed, little has changed in our relationships, except that they have become stronger and closer. We continued the tradition of the Christmas Eve sleepover. Because Stefan was included this year, my room was no longer big enough to fit all of us, and we all dragged our matresses and blankets to the living room to sleep in front of the Christmas tree (with Simon between Stefan and me, of course). The laughter and random flashlight attacks continued late into the night. I am blessed to say that not only do I love my sister and brother, I also like them a lot. They are some of my favourite people, my best friends.
I was sad to leave when I did, but at the same time, ready to take on my next semester of school and get it over with. It was with mixed feelings that I surveyed Winnipeg when the bus carrying Chantel and myself entered the city limits on New Year's Eve. This city has become somewhat homey to me, but also holds frustrations of a more complicated life than before. The appearance of an unexpected, bright-eyed, curly head watching through the bus windshield for my dismount was the perfect welcome for any weary traveller, and his hug soothed my soul, reminding me where I belong.
Today was the first day of my second semester. I only had one class because the others were either cancelled or not starting until next week. I celebrated by checking out a used book store that just opened in my neighbourhood. I bought the teeniest little copy of Pride & Prejudice you ever saw, and it did my heart good to read about Jane dancing the night away with Mr. Bingley, and to try and see through the proud facade first presented for Mr. Darcy. A cup of tea made a wonderful companion.
I am now awaiting Stefan's phone call or arrival. It could be either. He thinks he's picking me up from my evening class, and because he is currently out and about, I have no way of reaching him to tell him the it is in fact cancelled. Ahh, life.

my hobby: being late for theory

2005-12-05T10:21:00.000-06:00

Today is the second last day of school, thus marking the last theory class of the semester! I would be more jubilant, but the end of one semester, also marks the beginning of another, which contains the course Music Theory 2. And the next contains Theory3, which is inevitably followed by Theory 4. I should be happy that I'm done the first portion, but when I think about all that lies ahead, I want to crawl into bed, curl up and moan. As you may have deduced, theory is not my favourite class.
I'm usually late for theory. I have a one hour break after my Music History class (which I actually didn't mind all that much), and I often spend it practicing voice, and then checking my email, seeing who happened by my blog, and possibly posting a little something-something for the general public to read. I don't make it a priority to be on time there, although I should maybe. But if I come in just on time, or a little late, I can sit in the front corner, and escape as soon as its over. As you may have deduced, theory is not my favourite class.
Sometimes I think I should make more of an effort to be on time. It would be respectful, after all. There are a couple of perpetually late girls in my classes, and I'm considering joining them. One girl usually bustles in, sort of apologetic, commenting "Even when I'm on time, I'm late!". The other girl is quite resigned to late fate. She strolls in slowly (late every time, I'm positive), arms full of books and flute, casually glances around for a seat, and finds one. Her face is pretty expressionless, and she is very ho-hum about the whole matter. I'm very close to becoming one of them, but the difference is that they do this in every class. I, however, reserve it for Theory.

As you may have deduced, theory is not my favourite class. And judging from the time of this post, you may also have deduced that I am late, yet again.

one month until Christmas

2005-11-25T10:18:00.000-06:00

Okay, so I'm still alive. My mood is pretty psycho...one might call it "witchy" at times, but usually only at night when I'm really tired. The physical symptom of dizziness is pretty annoying and starting to get to me a little. I haven't fainted yet, and I feel a lot better today, so maybe its almost over. I'm still expecting to be a little up and down in the next couple of weeks until I stabilize without the meds.
Thanks to y'all who have been praying and leaving comments and things. I feel very supported and blessed. Its going smoother than I expected. There's only been one freak out so far, so I hope to continue keeping those to a minimum.
More importantly than that, today is November 25th which is one month until Christmas. I don't know when the last time was that I was this pumped for Christmas. I can't wait to go home and see my family and be involved in all those little Christmas traditions, like butchering the croissants for breakfast on Christmas morning because we can't figure out how to open the package or roll them up correctly, and the dough is starting to balloon out of the hole we've created in the tube. Oh well, we can just blame it all on Kydd, right Kydd?
Anyway, I'm going to be late for theory again if I don't go soon. Happy pre-Christmas, everyone. Enjoy your shopping and listening to Christmas music and wearing of obnoxious Christmas sweaters!

little pink pill, little pink pill...

2005-11-17T17:44:00.000-06:00

A wonderful thing happened today. I took my very last little pink pill.

I've been on antidepressants for about a year and a half. I spent five months on the wrong ones, which was not fun at all. But the last 13 months have been a lot more smooth sailing. However, I've come to place (and my crazy doctor agrees) that I am ready to go it on my own without the chemical help.
If you guys don't understand antidepressants, what they do is make areas of my brain function that aren't working so good. They help it produce the proper amounts of chemicals and all that so that I won't be chemically inbalanced and clinically depressed anymore. So hopefully all that is in order, and along with the tools I have learned through counselling, I will be able to live a balanced life that will no longer be filled with sadness, but rather with light!
I'm pretty excited. I phone Mom this morning while I was eating chips for breakfast so she could listen to me sing the "Little Pink Pill" song one more time while I swallowed my last pill.
I really hope that marks the end of my journey with Paxil, or any antidepressants for that matter. I'm really praying that withdrawl will go fast and that I won't relapse. If anyone out there in blog world thinks of me, and feels like sending up a prayer about these things, I would really appreciate that.

PS- Its my two year anniversary on Saturday the 19th. Love you Stefan!

snow day

2005-11-15T08:57:00.000-06:00

Today is a snow day and I am staying home.
The world is frosted. This morning there was a thick layer of snow on our skylight, and when I went downstairs for my shower, I saw that the whole world was equally blanketed. It really came out of nowhere, this winter storm. We had beautiful weather all weekend while Hailey was here (which was insanely fun, by the way) and we were able to run around in light jackets and bunnyhugs. But today feels very different.
In Saskatchewan the first snow sort of drifts down among the grass, which is still visible, and freezes into thick frost overnight. Everything just gets really icy and really cold. It remains that way for most of winter, with bits of brown grass reminding us of the summer we long for.
Here in Manitoba things are very different. This is the first real snow of the season, and it is probably as deep as a man's knee. It started yesterday around 4:00pm and hasn't let up yet. The wind is blowing now, swirling the constant falling flakes in with those that have already had their brief rest on a tree branch or blade of grass. The trees are laden with powder, and the roads and sidewalks are hopelessly buried.
Today is a snow day, and I am staying home. My voice teacher's car is stuck in the middle of her street, and the buses are completely off schedule. My only class of the day is twenty minutes long. My comfortable house is growing more attractive each second. I'll do some homework wrapped up in a fleece blanket, drink some tea, stare out the window, rest.

Today is a snow day and my feet are freezing. I'm going to go find some socks.

our adventure

2005-11-08T11:29:00.000-06:00

Stefan picked me up for school yesterday. That sweetheart. I called him at 7:20am, overreacting about yet another less than urgent situation, and he left the comfort of his top bunk to listen to me cry while eating my Honey Nut Cheerios (which isn't a pleasant sound over the phone), and he found it in his heart to comfort and pray with me, and acutally thank me for waking him up because he had forgotten to set his alarm. And because we spent so much time on the phone, I found myself missing my bus, and Stefan offered to bring Momentum to pick me up and take me to school.
Well, we didn't make it to school on time. We ran out of gas about six blocks from my house, luckily on a side street rather than on busy Pembina Highway, which is all the busier due to stupid construction. This is the second time we've totally run out of gas together. Both times the same thing has happened. The car starts to glide smoother than usual, and before I even realize anything is wrong, Stefan looks over at me with a mixture of sheepish sweetness in his eyes, and batting his eyelashes, says, "Honey, we're out of fuel." And that's exactly what happened.
Stefan guided the car to a stop by the curb. Thank goodness for momentum, or else we might have been caught in the middle of the street. We prayed over the car to see if God could get us to a gas station on wheels, but the answer was no, so we went on foot.
We walked up to Pembina and to the first gas station, which was one of those Domos where the shack is only big enough for the one attendant, and everything else- drink coolers, various auto fluids etc.- is outside. The somewhat incompetent looking gas pumper told us that they didn't have gas cans. No explanation. Just "No, we don't" followed by a blank stare that said please go away and don't ask me to help you anymore.
Onward to Shell we walked, mittened hand in mittened hand. We were talking and joking the whole time as thoughts of school faded into the backgroud of our minds. Shell also lacked a gas can, but had a far kinder attendant in charge, who explained that they were not allowed to have gas in the building. He pointed us next door to Certigard, where we found ourselves rescued.
After dodging early morning traffic to get to the ATM across the street, we laid down the cash deposit and the jerry can was ours...for about half an hour.
Stefan put some gas in the can at Shell, and we started the trek back to the car, with Stefan continuously switching the jerry can from one hand to the other, and me dodging around so I could hold the free hand. At this point first class was half over for me, and Stefan stood no chance of getting to his first class on time, so we put the idea out of our minds and I promised him McDonald's breakfast in return for all his hard work.
So when it was all said and done, Certigard had their gas can, Shell was $20 richer, and Stefan and I were full of North America's favourite fast food breakfast. We were in time for our second classes, and a lot cheerier than when we left.
Sometimes it takes a minor little crisis to put things into perspective. I was so worked up when I got up that morning, feeling far to stressed to go to school, but feeling far to stressed about the idea of missing it to not go. When the car ran out of gas, I had two choices: to get frustrated because I definitely didn't need one more thing to go wrong, or to accept it. We chose to accept it.
Stefan is a master at accepting things going wrong, and taking care of them. I have a tendency to get a bit put off at first, but I love to have a good time, no matter what I'm doing. Running out of gas was probably one of the best things that could have happend that morning. It gave me a break from school, some good time with Stefan, some exercise, and a BLT bagel from McDonald's.
I feel better now. A lot better.

day-glo spandex and a clashing sweatband

2005-10-31T16:56:00.000-06:00

I gave blood today. I've never done that before. And- strange as it may sound- it is something I've always wanted to do. I've never minded needles, or even the sight of blood all that much, so I just thought that it would be something I could do to help. It was actually kind of cool. I got a little carsick on the bus on my way home, but otherwise, I feel fit as a fiddle. Actually, being an easy bruiser, I'm kind of excited to see what kind of cool bruise I get.
The weekend was a very good one. I went to my first step aerobic class ever. I felt like I should have been wearing day-glo spandex and a clashing sweatband, but once I walked in I was glad I had resisted my urge to dress according to eighties work out trends. Other than being hopelessly lost in the beginning, I had a great time. It really works you. And after awhile, Tamara and I caught on to most of the steps. I got to spend the afternoon with Stefan, the evening with Tamara, and the late evening with both of them at Bryan T's hockey game. So it was a good Saturday.
Sunday, however, took the cake. Stefan's birthday is on the 3rd of November, so we celebrated a little early. We went to the Imax, and the science gallery at the museum -all the things my little science freak loves- and then for dinner at this wonderful Italian place on Stafford (Spuntino Cafe...go there if you're ever in Winnipeg!). We picked up some cheesecake and caught a cheap movie (the theatre has become our hangout lately, with Stefan working weekend evenings, and midnight movies being our only workable form of weekend dates). We finished up the night cuddling in my basement. We both had a wonderful time. *sigh* If anybody wants to see his birthday present, I'm sure he'd be more than happy to threaten you with it.
So that was my weekend. No homework was accomplished whatsoever...well that's not quite true. I think I worked for 15 minutes or so.
Now today is Halloween, and I must fly for there is dressing up to be done! Tamara and I decided that we should dress up to hand out candy to the children of the neighbourhood. There is a gorgeous tiara of plastic, purple gems and feathers waiting for me upstairs. Tamara has put her creativity to work and made a tutu, so there will be a ballerina and a princess handing out candy this evening. And if Tamara's friend joins us, there will be a fairy as well. Talk about a girly household! Should be a good time.

Until next time...

PS- Did you know that 488 years ago today, Martin Luther tacked the 95 Theses to the door of a church in Whittenburg, Germany, beginning the Reformation? One little event that sparked a change so great, that in its absence, our faith, security and lives as we know them would have been radically different. Thank you, Mr. Luther.

heroes and villains

2005-10-26T18:39:00.001-05:00

Today I was on the bus with my favourite driver. He's an older man with a pleasant face, and he always has a smile for me. He usually drives me home after school is over in the morning. I think of him as Grant, because he drives the bus down Grant Ave, but I highly doubt that's his name. In fact, it would be a strange coincidence. I really hope that's his name. Anyway, for anyone who has been on Chorale at Bethany, he kind of reminds me of Les Wills, our English bus driver from Tour 2004, only less polite (I mean, really, who's as polite as Les?).
Anyway, I was riding along on my way home when the bus stops and a man gets on. Enter our villain. He was wearing skin-tight black jeans and some kind of belt with a huge, embellished buckle, a puffy black jacket, an old baseball cap and tan cowboy boots (that were actually rather slippery, much to my satisfaction).
He started asking the bus driver a question about transfers or something, and suddenly a huge fight erupted between them. Skin-tight Jeans Man started yelling at him, reaming him out, saying that he wasn't listening. The bus driver kept trying to explain himself, but the man wouldn't let him speak. He just kept saying over and over that the bus driver was giving him attitude and blah blah blah. The bus driver couldn't get a word in edgewise to explain himself. He even raised his voice a couple times, but our villain in the jeans kept cutting him off.
I observed all of this from my seat close to the front of the bus, feeling very uncomfortable. First of all, I was pretty disgusted with the passenger for antagonizing the driver, and I was scared that the bus driver would have to kick him off for verbal abuse, and that he would get really mad. I was also really embarrassed for both of them. For Skin-tight Jeans Man, because with his attitude, there probably isn't a soul that takes him seriously, and he is incredibly immature (immature enough to keep making rude comments about the driver after he was sitting, to try to prove himself a big man by pushing the driver around and making stupid comments like, "Do I want a transfer? Oh, I'm taking a transfer!"). And I was embarrassed for the driver, because when somebody yells at you, it makes you feel small, whether you want it to or not.
When I got off the bus, I stopped and thanked him nicely for the ride, as I usually do, but I paused for a second. The driver looked at me and said of our villain, "Waste of flesh, that one." He said it with a smile, but there was a sort of sadness in his eye, like he was tired and, while not defeated, ashamed of being brought so low. I said, "I'm sorry about that. It was awful." And I got off the bus.
Fighting really makes me nervous. I think I've heard too much of it in my life. Nothing is accomplished by yelling. Nothing is every accomplished by making yourself higher than someone else, especially in public, whether you know them or not. I feel sad that people don't feel good enough about themselves that they have to constantly step on other people to prove themselves.
If you're reading this, and you are one of those people that constantly needs to feel higher than the people around you, please understand that you are wonderful the way you are, and that it doesn't matter how people see you. Its the age-old church phrase of "It's what's inside that counts", but I'm serious. We're all the same in God's eyes: me, Skin-tight Jeans Man, the quiet girl in class, the old woman in the grocery store, the bratty thirteen year-old boy.
There is no hero in this story. The bus driver insulted the man after he left. He needed to feel validated that he was better than the villain. We all do it all the time. The slow server at the restaurant, the employer who didn't hire us, the person who doesn't drive according to our specific standards. They are immediately stupid and incompetent in our minds. But really they are people. Just like me. Just like us.
It's something to think about.

procrastinating on my search for truth

2005-10-25T14:53:00.000-05:00

I'm sorry to say that there has been no further investigation in the case of the bookstore manager's double life. I will no longer be attending Tuesday night aquafit, due to my class starting up again. I'll only go on Wednesdays, and be instructed by one of the most hardcore women I have ever seen.

But I will continue in my search for truth: to unveil the mystery of the aquafit instructor. There will be no stone left unturned, no clue left un-investigated, no dark corner left...well you get the point.

a quiet evening

2005-10-23T18:49:00.000-05:00

I went to the ballet on Friday, and I have a mixed review. The show was Dracula, so the theme was a little scarier than your typical Nutcracker or Swan Lake ballet. Some of the characters were a little, shall we say, sketchy. Especially the gargoyles, who had the figures of swollen, third-world children with *ahem* large chests. The costumes were creative, however. One dance was called the red dance, and every dancer was wearing a unique red costume...well, everyone except the wolf; a man dressed in a nude coloured uni-tard with faux fur glued to his haunches. From my seat, he looked stark naked and hairy.
But, when you put aside the freakish costumes and the underlying theme of bloodsucking, the ballet itself was a wonderful event. I love the art of the dance itself. Ballet is so expressive and moving. Both heroines- Lucy and Mina- danced with passion and talent, their filmy skirts floating whimsically. They were every little girl's dream ballerina...except for the whole undead, bloodsucking thing.
Anyway, over all, I must say that my first experience with the ballet was a positive one. It was like nothing I have ever seen before, and I can't wait to see it again.
The rest of the weekend has passed rather quietly. Homework has slowed for the moment, and I took some much-needed rest time. Saturday was spent cleaning in the morning, at the gym in the afternoon, shopping with Stefan and a midnight movie, the last two of which made my weekend. There was a lot of quiet, alone time fit in between those events, which has done my soul a lot of good. Today was church and an afternoon with Stefan. He's been working a lot of Friday-Saturday nights lately, and this weekend includes Sunday night too, and so we've been spending days together when we can. I'm starting to miss him again, which is funny because we aren't long distance anymore.
Well I guess there just isn't that much to say today. Another week begins tomorrow morning, and right now there is a fire blazing downstairs in the fireplace, which will make a feeble attempt at homework somewhat bearable. I actually look forward to cozying up for a little while, even if it is with my history book. Good night, and God bless you this week.

bookstore owner by day, aquafit instructor by night

2005-10-21T12:38:00.000-05:00

Today has been a much better day. I woke up early, which is really odd, because I didn't think there was an hour earlier than what my alarm clock is set to in order for me to catch the bus. Anyway, because I woke up early, I wasn't running late at all today.
Fridays are my longest days. I have classes in both the morning and the afternoon, which is pretty uncommon for me. Plus, where I normally have a break from 1-2:30, I have a thrilling seminar on how to write essays that I have to attend in order to someday graduate. God is definitely still surrounding me, because normally I can't handle being here at school for more than a morning, and I rely very heavily on that break. But as of now, I feel fine. I've been praying a lot for strength, and God is answering. I love it.
I am really excited for tonight, though. Tamara (my cousin) and her university choir are singing at the Royal Winnipeg Ballet, and she gave her two free tickets to me and my aunt (her mother). So tonight marks my very first ballet, complete with a Mennonite's dream: a $68 ticket free of charge. The show is Dracula, and I am really excited to see it. Our seats are first balcony, front row, so we'll be able to see everything!!!! I know you are all jealous, but this is something you will just have to get over!
Oh, and something funny and a little weird that I have discovered is that the bookstore manager here at my school, and my Tuesday night Aquafit instructor are possibly one in the same person. It dawned on me the other day that there must be a reason why they have the same name (Raul; not a common Canadian name) and bear a striking resemblance to one another. I sneaked past the bookstore today, trying to nonchalantly glance in Raul's direction to see if I was right, but his face was turned away, and I was unable to complete my mission. Too bad. I guess I'll have to try again later.
Well I guess I better eat some lunch. Turkey sandwiches are calling my name. Time for another lunch by myself, cleverly disguised as a study session. Happy trails, all!

a bubble of my own

2005-10-19T14:11:00.000-05:00

This has been quite a week; the type of week that inspires someone to start an online diary so she can somehow sketch out a picture of what has happened, stand back and look at it, and shake her head at her life without injuring herself. Before today, I have been totally against blogging, thinking it was a trend that would soon wear itself out, like those goldfish platform sandals of the sixties. But when I stopped and considered it, I realized that I love to write and I find it a great way to let burdens slide off my shoulders. Which brings me back to the kind of week I've had, and the things I need to let slide.
The God bubble is a wonderful thing. It is a spherical, body-engulfing fortress, invisible to the eye, and almost even to the heart of its prisoner. It is soft, yet extremely strong (like Secret antiperspirant, right Hoagie?) and granted most often- I believe- to the children of praying mothers. At least, I know that's where mine came from.
After a tough weekend, a feeble attempt at a recovery Monday failed, even though a chocolate muffin was presented as the ultimate aid. I still cried on Stefan's shoulder all the way home, terrified that I was having a depressive relapse of some sort. Tuesday morning dawned with me stuck in my bed like a fly on flypaper, and not moving. I am eternally grateful for a mother who doesn't work on Tuesdays, and was cool with an early morning phone call from a different province, and graciously sat, listening to me wail for half an hour. Then she prayed the God bubble over me, and it hasn't left me since.
Now the funny (and extremely infuriating) thing about the enemy is that he loves to try to pop it. Imagine that! Trying to pop my God bubble. The one my mother gave me! Oh, let me tell you, did he ever try! I lost my very expensive bus pass yesterday, botched up my music skills midterm and got on the wrong bus. And that all happened in the space of an hour. And today, I found out that my replacement bus tickets (also pretty pricy) aren't really usable for me. And to top it all off, I stepped on a staple. That's right, a staple. It was in my shoe, and it stuck into my heel and I had to pull it out of my foot. And I bled on my sock.
But what I love is that the God bubble is still intact. Nothing can touch me. This is all about the peace that passes understanding. I love it. I really love it.

Its a good thing that the staple didn't pop my bubble.

the maiden post

2005-10-19T13:51:00.000-05:00

Well, there has to be a first time for everything...even blogging.