Un Inviting

University is making me anti-social. I'm downright RUDE to people who try to talk to me or sit near me. Whenever someone tries to talk to me, I have to admit, I just shake my head until they give up. What am I supposed to say? "Thanks for your time but the idea of taking you on in my life makes me want to light myself on fire"? I don't like small talk, I don't like introductions - I just want to sit in class, take notes and leave.

I like my own row. I like to be on the end, at the back, near the door. Yeah, I'm THAT kid. I don't sit there with my hood up and a scowl on my face but just try to start a conversation and I'll turn into a sullen teenager so fast your head will spin.

Don't get me wrong, I've made some lovely friends at University. IN THE PAST. Now that I have those friends, I'm done. I'm through collecting strangers from my classes. I don't have time to nurture any new relationships and I certainly don't have the patience to take notes for a 19 year old who got too "bombed" to come to class and is relying on me to catch her up. NOT GONNA HAPPEN.

It's a battlefield out there, kids, and it's every man for himself. This isn't the army - don't kid yourself - I'll leave you behind in a heartbeat.

I Wish I Could Save You

I have no idea how to start this entry ... so I'm just going to start typing and we'll see what has been poured out when I run out of time/energy/ideas.

Recently ... I took a chance. Fuelled by good intentions and the nudging of the Holy Spirit, I embarked on a journey to help a stranger and unfortunately, the journey came to a screeching halt (far sooner than I could have imagined) with some fairly significant consequences. I don't know what to do with what's left over. The energy and passion that was necessary to launch myself into this situation is now sitting, unused, in my bones and I haven't the faintest idea of what comes next. There was nothing I could have done - the choice wasn't mine to make - but now that it's been made, I'm admittedly quite lost.

What do you do when you throw yourself, head first, into an opportunity to help someone and it crumbles before it even starts? What do you do with the residue? The disappointment? The nagging worry that there was something more that could have been done - that the limitation lies with you?

I find myself over-analyzing. That's how I'm using the extra energy I have. And honestly, I think that's because I'm too scared to try again. I know this is aggravatingly vague and I'm desperately trying to be as general as possible without glazing over this issue of the heart -- but please understand, this isn't my story to tell. So all I can share with you is my very small part in a very large story.

I can't keep going over every detail, picking apart every word I said, every gesture that I made - I can't keep frantically searching for a way to blame myself. But, what if it happens again? What if I let a piece of someone's journey affect me and move me and wind up with ... confusion and unfinished sentences and regret?

Should've. Could've. Would've. Didn't. Couldn't. Can't.

I'm so exhausted from shrugging in helplessness and my throat hurts from trying to find the words ...

This is hard. And it hurts. And I don't know how to proceed. I don't know how to let it go and move on - I don't know how to leave all of my questions unanswered. I don't know how to go back to the way things were before I was certain that I was making all the right decisions.

How do I acknowledge the disappointment without becoming angry and bitter? Because, friends, I'm afraid that acknowledging the reality and the pain of what happened will push me too far, too deep, too soon ... and what if I can't find my way back? I can't become that angry, cynical person again.

In Which I Cry

**If you are one of the families that has welcomed me in like a daughter, I can't thank you enough. Please don't take this post the wrong way - your love and support has meant the world to me. You are my family **

I miss my Dad. Just typing those 4 words causes my eyes to fill with tears and a lump to form in my throat. I don't usually admit that sort of thing (especially for 200+ people to see) but I'm really hoping that by getting it out there, I'll find a little peace. My Dad used to be my hero - so much so that when he came home from work at the end of every day, he'd burst through the front door and holler "Super Dad!!" That's how I knew he was home - that's how I knew he was close. We'd watch t.v. together and every once in a while I'd lean over and rest my head on his shoulder and he'd kiss my forehead.

Despite his best efforts, I was never embarrassed to introduce him to my friends. He was a "cool Dad", one who understood the importance of noticing a new hairstyle or complimenting an outfit; I was told that he was proud of me and that I was beautiful every single day. He was great with my friend's parents too and always made a conscious effort to remember their names should he run into them again.

When meeting any boy in my life he was always reassuring and funny - telling them to "take a deep breath" if they were nervous and poking fun at me to break the ice. I don't know of one single person who has met my Dad and come away with something negative to say. He's the king of First Impressions and unfailingly engaging; he's the one who taught me how to quickly and subtly find a common ground with any stranger to win them over or put them at ease (a tactic that has secured me many jobs and turned acquaintances into friends).

Today, I'm heart-broken to say, I barely know my Dad. Circumstances beyond my control have forced us apart and transformed such a beautiful relationship into a vague familiarity. I hardly ever see him and I can't remember the last time we talked on the phone. I tell myself that it's normal and that parents and kids naturally drift apart after a while ... but I'm not so convinced. My closest friends talk to their parents almost every day and these days it's hard to deny my jealousy. My friends tell their parents about their lives while my Dad doesn't know that I love to paint and fish and he doesn't know that I'm planning a trip to somewhere exotic for Spring Break. My Dad doesn't know that this distance breaks my heart and that I'd trade almost anything to bridge the gap between us and know he's close once more.

And while I know he's proud of me and I know he loves me, I don't know him anymore and he doesn't know me. And at the end of the day, foolish or not, I want my Super Dad back.

She

**

She is grown and moving on
In leaps and bounds she dances
towards a future I can only dream of.

The best parts of me are mirrored in her
And I imagine that the best parts of her
Might be in me somewhere, buried and dirty.

She carries no air of superiority or pride
She has no idea that she shines
And gives light to all my secret dreams.

A soul so beautiful that others rise up
Unashamed and unaware that she
Is the kindred spirit that has called to them.

Truly alive and truly living
I feel a responsibility to do the same
To live along side her, alight and free.

She is family and she is true
A beauty, a beacon, a fire,
And a heart that invites me to radiate with her.

**

Old Friends

**

I think I spend too much time in my own head. It's warm and comforting and completely devoid of any common sense or limitation. Join me, won't you?

Lately I feel as though I'm stumbling around in a dark room - eyes wide open, brow furrowed in concentration, teeth digging mercilessly into my bottom lip (forming the first letter of the one go-to curse word that seems to acknowledge and alleviate frustration all at one time).

I've been in this room many times before - the same darkness has frequently overwhelmed me and forced me into submission - yet the room remains terrifying and unfamiliar. It's not terrain you ever get used to, is it? Darkness is always foreign no matter how well you know your surroundings.

Yet, I keep stumbling around because I'm convinced that eventually something's gonna give and there'll be a break in the brick-and-mortar of my days and the light will trickle sweetly through the cracks. I know, it sounds like I'm depressed doesn't it? But it's actually the opposite - I'm delighted because deep down I know that if I'd never known darkness, I couldn't recognize the light.

**

You Jerk

*
Well, it was bound to happen, right? Eventually I was bound to feel "something" in connection to the recent events that I've been handling so well. Don't get me wrong, I still don't feel the need to yell or scream or exact my revenge - but man-oh-man, am I annoyed!

You see, there are people on this Earth that believe everything happens for a reason and that there is a lesson to be learned amidst chaos and pain - I am one of those people.

There are also people on this Earth that are masters at manipulation and have the ability to transform themselves into who/what others desire them to be - he is one of those people.

Now, imagine those two people collide. Throw in words like "God's will" and "divine appointment" etc and that's a recipe for disaster - especially if one of those people (the Eternal Optimist or the Apparent Alchemist) doesn't have the right motives.

My motives were pure and my heart was vulnerable - it's not easy for me to trust men, especially those that seem to be too good to be true. His motives ... well ... let's just say they weren't as pure. I'm not about to list the ugly things he did and I'm not going to act like it didn't hurt to be let down (again) - but yes, I'm annoyed.

I'm annoyed that he used God as an anvil to give his words weight. I'm annoyed that he acted like him moving on to another girl was cause for congratulation. I'm annoyed that I talked about him and got butterflies when thinking about him. I'm annoyed that I let him mean something to me when I could have stuck to my old ways and not had to feel any of this.

But, then I would have missed out on the important lesson that I learned through this situation - I'm not heart-broken because every single day I surrendered my feelings to God and asked that He protect me from getting too attached - and He did.

Though this man hurt me, our Father is wiser and stronger and I will relax in the knowledge that He will vindicate me.
*

Lucky Lucky, I'm So Lucky

*
For Kiki, on a day when she feels "less than" when she is really so much more than she knows.

Remember that time ...

... You "helped" me climb on the roof in Dublin and I slipped, sliding all the way down the roof and almost falling to my death and all you could scream was "Jen! Don't die! You can't leave me here alone!!"

... I tried on those panties that were about 9 sizes too small and they ripped clean off my body!

... We watched "28 Days Later" and you forced me to let you sleep in my bed that night cause you were so scared that zombies were going to come get you.

... We ordered that massive "Wagon Wheel" pizza from Mizzoni's (can't believe I remember the name of that place) and we had to turn it sideways to fit it through the door!

... You burst into tears at that coffee shop because you JUST. COULDN'T. HANDLE. LIFE.

... We put that pylon on Cam's head and made him run around like a zombie, chasing the other kids.

... You called me hysterically crying from the airport because all the turbulence on your flight home to Canada scared you and you thought you were going to die.

... You lost your mind when the Africa team went home and had to take the day off work cause you couldn't stop crying.

... I had to scale the countertops and stove to run that excessively long ethernet chord all over the kitchen to set up our internet service that we only kept for 2 months before we moved again.

... Those sequined shoes you wore to walk around Dublin that cut up your feet and they got all infected and gross.

... We stayed up ALL NIGHT (multiple times) to watch Friends/CSI/3 Wishes/X-Factor etc.

Despite my feelings about Dublin, we had the best time together. You've always been able to cheer me up, inspire me and convince me to keep on pressing in when I want to do anything but. I love you, Keek - you are so much more than you know.

Have a better day, love.
*

Living on a Prayer

*
Stuff I Learned This Weekend:

1) Muss is back ... she's a little sad, I'm whole-heartedly delighted. Welcome home, man.
2) All great conversations should include the words "I'll bring the keg on wheels" with the response "I think we're on to something here ..."
3) I may be terrible at pool but I absolutely love it.
4) Life at it's sweetest: Last night Muss and I set off rockets in a park while Kris and Kiki played on the swings.
5) Not every picture has to have sentimental value - stop hoarding - just throw some of them away!
6) I'll never be as blonde as I was when I was a kid.
7) Our society values possessions but my back begs me to downsize for the big move happening in a couple weeks.
8) Despite some of the stuff that's happened lately, I'm still really happy.
9) I miss playing guitar but I love having long nails too much to cut them so I can play again.
10) The more brown I get from tanning, the more I love my body.
*

Not This Time

*
For the sole purpose of avoiding the truth that comes crashing into reality when the unspoken is given a voice, I am here. Typing out feelings that I'm sure don't have a name. I've been hoping for something recently and I just found out that it is most definitely not going to come to fruition. And the disappointment is tangible. I feel like I can see it and smell it and hear it ringing all around me and all I want to do is blare happy carnival music to drown out the noise with irony.

I feel like I've been designed to receive disappointment fairly calmly - I haven't cried or yelled or really emoted in any extreme fashion - but I feel it. The best way for me to describe it is a throbbing. I feel like my spirit is throbbing.

So, it stings and I've been knocked off balance but I'll regain my composure very soon. Something like this won't destroy me or steal the progress I've made. I choose forgiveness, mercy, love and grace. Basically, I choose that which has been given so selflessly to me despite my glaringly obvious lack of merit.

I choose life.
*

Promise Maker. Promise Keeper.

*
Last night I crawled into bed and thanked God for the way He has been moving lately. Friends of mine have been trying to conceive for the past 10 years and, after considerable difficulty, they decided to adopt. They have been let down over and over with adoptions that fell through - babies that were dangled in front of them like candy and then snatched away, just as their hearts were opened to love. But yesterday, their struggle was distant and their frustration was forgotten; their baby came home to them. A gorgeous little boy with dark brown eyes and a smile that makes my heart swell to impossible proportions.

I'm so happy for them and so overwhelmed at their happiness. My God is a God of impossible dreams and extravagant promises and, more than anything, my God is promise keeper.

So here I sit with much to ponder.

I've watched God make my friend's wildest dreams come true. I feel a stirring in my soul and a whisper in my ear, reminding me that He wants to do the same for me. I don't know what my wildest dreams are but I love how limitless my God is. I know this post is overly-"Godly" and I normally try to keep the God-talk to a minimum so as not alienate some of my friends who read my blog - but friends, you know me. And this is my heart.

I live a life that is extravagantly full of grace and passion - I am fiercely loved and pursued by a God who has all things and He still beckons to a fool like me. I have seen hearts, minds and bodies healed and I have felt my own spirit restored under the healing glance of God. In this life - in my life - this is all there is. The truth is, I wouldn't be here if it weren't for God. That is, in the simplest form, my testimony.

And what I prayed last night is still true today - I don't want to waste the second chance I've been given. So (as cheesy as this sounds) if you are reading this - God loves you and He wants to know you. I know it's cliche and you've probably heard it all before but guys, I'm living proof that God loves you where you're at and not where you think you should be. There are no pre-requisites, there are no conditions - right now (this second!) where you are sitting, God is whispering to your heart and He wants you to hear this: "You are everything I've ever wanted. I love you and I want to restore you." I'm not trying to preach at you or convert you - I've just decided, once and for all, that what I have is worth talking about - and I want you to have it too.

I've been rescued time and again from my own self-hatred and desperation. And I refuse to sit by while the people I love buy into the lie that they're not worth God's time. He made this world for YOU and gave His Son for YOU. If you were the only person on earth, He would have done it all for you. Don't be like me - don't waste your life believing that your existence and worth are limited to what you see. I promise you - GOD promises you - it's not. And, like I said, He's a promise keeper.
*

Say It

*
Why can't you just say what I need to hear?
Put me out of my misery
And just say it.

Tell me that you're a big fake
And far too good to be true
And that everything you've said to me
Will eventually prove me to be a fool

Why can't you just say what I need to hear?
Put it all out there
And just say it.

Tell me this isn't going to work
That there's someone better than me
She's thinner and prettier
And will make you endlessly happy

Why can't you just say what I need to hear?
I think I can handle it
Just say it.

Because if this is going to work
And you're telling me the truth
I have to say it here and now
I'm scared to death of you

Why can't I just let this be everything it is?
And admit how I feel
Just say it ...

I think I might be yours.
*

The Other Day

*
You know what sucks? Being so busy that you can't remember what day it is or when any event took place in the days previous. This has happened to me a lot lately as I've been forced to refer to every day as "The Other Day". My days are just starting to blend together into one giant stress ball which is rolling downhill and gaining enough momentum and force to crush me into the ground.

Or something less dramatic.

Yet again, my weekend will be spent writing papers and trying to spend time with the girls. Also, on Sunday my friend/co-worker Sharon is going to put blonde highlights in my hair! So stay tuned for that!

Aside from those random events, nothing much is new. I'll keep you posted if anything mildly interesting pops up! Have a good weekend!
*

The Power of Power

*
I'm disgruntled. Would you like to know why? Some genius in a semi hit a power line (he's fine, don't worry) and knocked out the power in the entire Northwest end of the city. Guess where my salon is? In the Northwest. Guess what I do at my salon that requires power? TAN.

On days when I feel like my depression is taking a toll, I go tanning. Research has suggested that "light box therapy" alleviates the symptoms of depression - well, what better way to engage in "light box therapy" than to lay in a bed full of light? That, and I need to be somewhat tan for Tasha's wedding and due to the difficulty I have getting brown, I need to start now (3 months in advance).

I'm hoping the power is back on in time to tan. I need it today.
*

Speaking of Which ...

*

Me: I hope my issues don't scare you off ... don't give up on me.
Him: I couldn't if I tried.

*

I'm On My Way

**
Sorry to say, I don't have much of an update on Mr. Love Letter but when I do, I'll let you guys know. It's too early to tell if it's worth blogging much more about (that sounded so lame).

I'm so excited for school to be done so I can start living like a normal person again! I spent my weekend writing papers and trying to sqeeze in time with my loved ones - the next few weeks will be much of the same. Exciting, no?

I've had a lot on my mind and heart lately - especially involving Mr. Love Letter. This time last year I was in a fairly serious relationship and 9 months after our break-up, we're only just starting to talk again. I'm terrified. I don't want to hurt someone else and I definitely don't want to be hurt. This is one of those situations where it could either end up being nothing or everything. I'm taking it slow and trying not to let it mean too much to me - but at the same time, I'm afraid that it will end up meaning something to me and I'll regret not diving in when I had the chance.

I'm so scared to admit that I'm not sure I can handle this. And I'm so scared to admit that I really want this to be something. So I'll admit it here, on my blog, and then I'll never have to say it out loud.
**

Truth Is - I Am Done Pretending

I feel like the best way to describe today would be to slam my face into my keyboard and allow the smatter of letters spell it out for me. I can't do that for multiple reasons (one of which being I'm at work and my boss would be angry that I didn't let him do it for me) so I'll just dump it all on here in words that you can (hopefully) read.

You know what's worse than the cold weather we are privvy to here in Canada? Waiting for the cold. Right before I step outside for the first time each morning, I die a little inside. It's so warm in my house and I just KNOW that in about 30 seconds I'm going to be freezing cold. I think the moments before the cold are harder to endure than the cold itself.

So right now, in my life, I am at the door. I'm waiting to step out into the cold for the first time and I'm dreading it. A lot of people describe depression as a cloud or darkness but to me it's cold. 100% freezing. Yesterday I was officially diagnosed with "endogenous depression" which, by definition, is: a biological depression, which is caused solely by a chemical imbalance in the brain and is genetic. This kind of depression makes sleep improbable and constant fatigue probable.

AWESOME.

My doctor told me to take it easy, get some rest, allow the pills to bring me back to normal. So, after hearing this news I decided I needed to alleviate some of the stress of school/work/LIFE and drop a class I am doing terribly in. I just got an e-mail from "The Powers That Be" advising me that I won't be able to drop it without dropping another one of my classes. It's a long story and the details don't matter - I'm stuck. I have to keep this schedule that I'm on. And that, my friends, is fucking depressing. I'll be fine but still ... today sucks.
_

Early Morning Product Placement

Me: D, I want - nay - I NEED a ShamWow!
D: What, pray tell, is a ShamWow?
Me: What!? It's like Jesus ... in a towel ...
D: Uh ...
Me: Prepare to receive the youtube link that will change your life.
(** after watching the ad **)
Me: What CAN'T a ShamWow do!? You could use it for anything!
D: You could make a ShamWow suit and pee yourself!
Me: And after the shame had set in, a ShamWow would dry my tears.
My Boss: Oh shut UP!
Me: You're just jealous. You have yet to know the truth.
My Boss: And what truth is that?
Me: The ShamWow is the second coming of Christ.

Happy Monday!
_

Why Don't You Just Come Back?

** Becky, I'm sure you already know, but this post is not about you **

I smell like smoke and tears and so much fear that even walking to my bed seems too frightening of a task to complete without perpetual self-talk. As I type these words, they seem so pathetic and I find myself shaking my head. Again. I'm not even sure why - am I shaking my head because these words won't be enough to help you comprehend how I'm feeling? Or because I'm still reeling from information overload and emotional bulimia?

3 words should give you an idea of where I'm at: I got out.

I'm here in Medicine Hat, a city of memories and disappointment and shame and unrecognized potential. My friends all have babies - beautiful lights that dance and sing and scream glorious nonsense that only a mother could understand - and I cry for them. Don't get me wrong, they are fabulous mothers and their children are loved in a way that all kids should be - but they aren't happy. They cry to me and we talk about them getting out of this city and moving to a new place where they could start over. "It's not that easy" they say, "I've got kids to think about; family to take care of".

I flashback to a conversation I had with my stepmother a week before I left this place to seek refuge under her watchful eye in Regina: "You know Jenny, you're going to have to work really hard to prove yourself now. You've made some pretty big mistakes and I'll help you fix them - but I need your word that you're ready to make a change - to put all this behind you and start again". Between sobs I manage to choke out "I'm ready - I'll do whatever it takes" and in my head I'm screaming "Please, please don't give up on me - I can't do this alone".

I sit with my friends and I want nothing more than to pack them up and drag them to my car - to take them back "home" with me and provide a better life for them. I desperately want to be for them what my Stepmom was for me. But I can't. I hold myself back because I've created something beautiful and I'm afraid to let one life bleed into the other. I'm afraid to let the colours run. I can't blur the lines between my past and my present - I can't take the chance that I'll fuck it all up again. I won't sacrifice my progress for their potential happiness.

It sounds cold, doesn't it? It's okay - I know you're thinking it. Chances are, if you're reading this you are one of my closest friends so a part of you is relieved, "Oh thank God, she's come so far - they're only going to drag her down again". And you're right, I have come so far and the odds aren't good that if I was to immerse myself in that life again, I would come out on top. Now, with that in mind, imagine you're me - sit on your friend's couch and listen to her cry about wanting a different life for herself - for her kids - see the fear in her eyes as you tell her "It's not always going to be like this - things are going to get better" and then get up, walk to your car and pull away, shivering because your voice betrayed you and her eyes exposed you - she knew as well as you did that if she didn't get out soon, things weren't going to get better.

I'm at the point where I've chosen to sacrifice the role I want to play in the lives of some of my friends, for the certainty of my own success. No matter how you spin it, it's selfish. Smart, yes. Mature, absolutely. But even in the name of self-preservation, it's heart breakingly selfish. It's not easy being that person.

Scatterlings of Africa

Meredith recently wrote about feeling like a "sell-out". I can't imagine why she would feel that way as I see her as so much more than she does. But I'm going to take this moment to write about potential. Sometimes I wonder if I'm meant to be living a grand and epic adventure. I look at the next 3 years (or so) of my life and they are pretty stable - school, work, friends, - summer, winter, fall, spring - and so on. I have a great life and if it was to continue the way it is, I would count myself even luckier than I already do. But what about all of those missed opportunities? The expanse of my future stretches before me and the plane is soft and flat - while I find that lack of threat very comforting, I squirm at the thought that I'm missing out - that I could be exhausted and excited, exploring something or somewhere that could change my life. I find myself willing a giant fucking mountain to spring up in the middle of that plane and turn my world upside down.

I don't want to miss out. I know that I have potential and I believe that I am meant for something "more" than this life I'm living now, but God help me - I want to see things. I want to be knee deep in new experiences, terrified and burdened with the knowledge that there's so much more "out there" and I don't have the time to fall in love with it all. Unbridled exploration of rivers and rainforests, people who live in trees, people who have nothing, people who have everything, the Taj Mahal, the Sistine Chapel, the Parthenon, new languages, new countries, new food - drinking myself silly in Tijuana, surfing (yes, surfing) in the Caribbean, early morning coffee in Colombia, a journey to Mecca, a journey to the mouth of an active volcano, a journey to an underwater biosphere ...

A journey to the center of everything and everyone I've ever wanted to experience. A life lived in fullness. I refuse to accept anything less.

You Are Winter

It's cold and icy and I want to lay and dream and drift in and out of the forgiveness that is sleep. With the hustle of Christmas mercifully over and the excitement of inauguration day winding down, I find myself quieting. It's nice. It happens every year. Just a couple of quiet days to balance out the hilarious mayhem that is days 1 through 363.



I've been toying with the idea of picking up writing again (also an annual occurrence). I can't help but feel under qualified - what makes my thoughts so important/interesting that I could expect someone to read them and label me a "writer"? I'm fairly typical and so is my life. The writers that I fall in love with carry an air of intelligence and humour in every word they commit to paper - I would never put myself in such a lofty category. What is it that qualifies one to do what they love? Is it the mere fact that they love it? Or is there something else - something bigger and more important that turns a blog and a diary into a novel or a sermon into a soul-stirring devotional?

I don't think I'll be able to commit to writing again until I understand what it is to truly love something while devoid of the confidence needed to pursue it. I feel like I owe writing more than my "best shot". I feel like writing deserves my heart on paper - how do I do that when I can't even wear my heart on my sleeve? Maybe that's it. Maybe writing is my heart, on my sleeve, on paper. Now I wonder what that would look like ...
_

Stars and Stripes

"Let it be said by our children's children that when we were tested we refused to let this journey end, that we did not turn back nor did we falter; and with eyes fixed on the horizon and God's grace upon us, we carried forth that great gift of freedom and delivered it safely to future generations." - Barack H. Obama

About 45 minutes ago (my time), the US made history and inaugurated the 44th President of the United States. He's unconventional, unwavering and under a lot of pressure to sort out the cluster-fuck that has become the US economy. I personally wish him all the best.

Today I wish I was American.
Today I wish I was there.
Today I wish that the kind of hope I feel for the US, could be the kind of hope I feel for Canada.

It's the beginning of his term and he's already a history-maker.

Today I prayed God would protect him and his family from the slander, scandal, violence, and defamation that tends to befall those in leadership.

And today I prayed he'd live up to the hype.
_

Imagine

A conversation about John Lennon.

Me: Did you know that Mark David Chapman (*the man who shot and killed John Lennon*) still receives death threats in prison to this day?!

Loud Guy: That'd be like my Mom writing death threats - she'd be about Lennon's age.

Me: Yeah, but there's a whole new generation of Beatles fans that probably write to him now.

Loud Guy: Yeah, knowing your generation, they were gonna write a letter but they just couldn't be bothered. Instead of a letter he got an e-mail. And all that e-mail said was:

Dear Mark,

:(

Signed,
A New Generation of Beatles Fans.

**Loud guy is so rarely funny, but this tongue in cheek commentary on my generation was oddly fitting AND hilarious.
_

Boy, Don't Try To Front ...

I don't like it when people who are wearing tank tops (or sleeveless shirts in general) put their arm around me. Like, OVER my shoulder. I really don't like it. It FREAKS. ME. OUT.

Either their naked, deodorized arm-pit is resting directly on my shoulder, leaving a white mark on my (probably) black shirt OR their naked, NON-DEODORIZED arm-pit is resting directly on my shoulder. Meaning their b.o. is now on my clothing. Meaning I have to burn that shirt cause that smell stays in your clothes.

It's disgusting and it really freaks me out. Hugs in the summer-time cause me to have a mini (but severe) panic attack.
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I don't like New Year's resolutions. They put so much pressure on people to stick to unreal expectations for a 12 month period - I mean, if this change is so drastic and important that you feel guilty for not sticking to it, shouldn't it be something you vow to do regardless of the time of year? That's just how I feel. I don't make resolutions anymore - I just try to better myself. One day at a time.

One of my favourite co-workers is not in today. When I asked where he was, my boss informed me that his brother died yesterday and he obviously had things to sort out. I'm shocked - I've never met his brother but we've talked about him. They were close and getting closer as his brother had recently moved to Regina. Very few people in my life share my strange little idiosyncrasies - one in particular. I organize my M&M's into their respective colours and then organize them into lines, then eat how ever many I need to until they form a little M&M-type graph from least to greatest. I recently discovered that my grieving co-worker shares this strange habit. So, in honour of him, while organizing my M&M's today I prayed for him, his family and anyone else whose life has been touched by this tragedy. I invite you to join me in prayer if you feel moved to do so.
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