"it seems rather over due"

...and you're thinking, yea you haven't posted in months . You are so single minded!
This delayed entry is a post full of things rather overdue.

When I saw the above picture I told Char that I would use on a post when my relational status had changed from single. It just looked so cute and stereotypical for twitterpated fools, so there it is picturing to the world the fireworks in my heart (note the little one in the right bottom corner, a pink heart, how appropriate).

However when I said that, I did not have any one in mind, in fact I had gotten used to the idea of the single life and had started thinking about adventures I could take when I had graduated (or at least what to do with myself when I had no particular attachments). It came rather as a surprise to my heart, not only because I grown accustomed to my state, but also because it was something I thought God had denied long ago never to be revived again.

I like surprises.

Rejecting singlehood is not exactly what seems overdue however, but perhaps finally working things out with the one that I rejected it for. And none were surprised. But you have all heard about that. What else is overdue?

Graduation. It's coming in 6 months, and I can say that I've never looked forward to it more than I do now. Being in school is hard for me this year. Last semester held the finishing blow on my academic heart and now I have no desire for homework, classes, or assignments. My love of learning has been numbed, at least in a formal way, and while I've always been easily distracted, now there is no studiousness left to hold me to my assignments. This numbness tells me that my tired brain thinketh that graduation is rather overdue.

Besides those overdue items, life has been all right, hectic though. I've been keeping up substantial hours at work, so between that and school... less spare time than I'd like is left. It's been good living with Amy, she Ashley and I have been scheming and dreaming with a book I found.


mwa ha haa, soon I will be consuming all your old t-shirts and wearing them as skirts and using them to make bags. Anyhow I have a greek assignment due tomorrow... maybe if I walk towards where my books are I it might be done soonish. Here's hoping I post with something else before another two months is up!
Thanks for sticking with me.

the little albino by gilad

snubbed, snobbed, and coolness factors

I don't think I've ever been snobbed by a farm kid was the first thought that occurred to me.

Then I realized that was a lie, I had been snobbed by farm kids plenty of times. Perhaps I should explain what I mean by snobbed. It is not snubbed, that is a completely intentional slight by people who deeply and truly snobs. snobbed is what otherwise cordial individuals do in a moment of snobbery. Something we've all done in order to seem cool.

The other night I was snobbed by a farm girl once again, it's nothing that's going cause my life to come crashing down like a burning aircraft in sky. And nothing that'll stop me from getting excited to pet a cow in the future (or any other animal for that matter), or from playing 'hey cow' every time I drive by a pasture. I live in the country, not on a farm nor in the city, so I regularly get snobbed on by both parties. I think I'm getting used to it. It does, however, cause my mind to go hmph, and wonder at the silliness that we all commit from time to time or, more often, time and time again.

Please, do me a favour, the next time you hear me snob someone for the sake of looking cool- because I've done it, I do it, and it will inevitably happen again- nudge me and whisper, "jo, don't snob others, it's just not cool."
I'll try to do the same for you.

But speaking of things that are no longer cool, (because somewhere along the line soccer "became the new baseball") I went out and bought a new baseball glove today. Now I just need to find someone else who likes to throw around a baseball. What is more embarassing though, is the ball that I bought to go with it. I went to the bin of hardballs and saw one that was beige compared to the rest of the white balls. I will buy you because you are beige I said in my mind to the little ball, and proceeded to the cashier. Yes I picked a ball because of it's colour, just be glad I do not do this with every purchase decision that I make, but the story gets better. When I got there the cashier had to call up the sports department to get the price on it and as she's reading out the info that's printed on the ball I realized that I had picked out a t-ball instead a hardball. It was actually printed in large letters on the side of the ball.

For those of you who missed out on the baseball-is-cool phase of life a t-ball is a softer ball made for little kids so they don't hurt themselves, usually placed on a stationary stick so the kid can hit it easily instead of having to aim a flying ball. Anyhow I brought it over to Joe's Place and Joe got so excited about it that I'm going to swap him for one of his hardballs. It'll be put to better use with his little girl and perhaps even with some of the teens here who aren't as catch-savy as this former baseball star. (you'll note that I played on a girls team with the longest losing streak in the area... still, I wasn't terrible.)

coming                                and                   going         by dmack

transition

My roommate is moving out. It's not that she doesn't like me, she's going back to Ontario. Our flat has been a bit chaotic, and I had to go buy a new can opener. (Ha, I know this sounds so girly or momish, but that is seriously the best can opener, cuts through metal like buttah.)

My house will once again quiet, another roommate come and gone, and we never did get to fixing the kitchen (It's had wallpaper that looks like it belongs in a child's bedroom since we moved in, white with multi-coloured hearts all over it). I like her, I'll miss her.

She heads out Sunday afternoon, and after that I'll start slowly moving into the smaller bedroom and finaggling with the furniture to make it work for a new roommate. Amy is moving in with me in the fall, I'm excited for that, I like her.

So. If you're calling me, call my cell, I've disconnected the landline. And this also means that I won't frequenting the net as much at least for the next 2 months. It was short lived, but blissful. And pray for me and pray for Amy, we have moving and finaggling to do and transition is tiring. Exciting but tiring.

holy light by gilad

absence makes the heart grow fonder

It is no mystery that God's thoughts to us are a mystery. And no secret that we are constantly trying to divulge the understanding of those mysteries. Have you ever wondered if God allowed something, let a person choose a path because it avoided a choice of worst disaster?

Of course you have. Everyone has. Even the biggest pessimist has a spot of optimist pondering, even if it is only a momentary flicker.
What I wonder right now is if we can consent to that idea, even for a flicker, can we consider that God may let us walk on paths that are likely to destroy us. Maybe He lets us because He wants us to choose, maybe He guides us to it because he has a plan we don't understand. But in either case the strange thought that occurs to me is that optimism can be the worst attitude in those situations.

There is a wonderous paradox about humanity that I wonder gets lost in our optimism. It is the challenges that create beauty and depth. It is the things that should break us that are what make us alive. We want life to be beautiful, we want everything to be good and peaceful, so we try to find it at every moment. Are we trying too hard? Are we just tiring ourselves out?

Many who study the Bible debate exactly how it is that man is created in God's image. A thought that wanders in and out of my head is that perhaps it is in paradox that we are like God. God who is the Three and One, who is the epitome of the beauty we seek and also the so fearsome that we cannot bear to behold all of His glory. But then again we can see this touch of paradox throughout all of God's creation, throughout all of nature. We idealize it, take pictures, paint it, admire it for the beauty and wonder that it contains. A mountainscape, a forest, a dessert, any sea, lake or river. We focus on the beauty and forget the disaster and periliousness that those things so easily contain. Get lost in a forest, or try to climb a mountain unprepared, you risk death; those who know what they are doing in a forest or on a mountain know that they are putting themselves on the line.

Whether we choose our own disaster or are bound to a path may be a mystery we never completely understand, but wherever we may walk, like a phoenix from the ashes, God raises beauty from disaster. Whether we fail miserably now, or succeed by whoevers' terms, we're told the story ends the same. God conquers all. Enjoy disaster, let satan have his destruction, because as Jesus us showed us there is something significantly more triumphant from admitting circumstances aren't ideal and surviving it than having been spared from or finding the bright side of circumstance.

dead fruit by coxi

"You don't make Christianity look good, you make rock look worse"
Hank Hill


Something can be labelled "Christian" and not be true or good...

It is possible for music to be labelled Christian and be terrible music. It could lack creativity and inspiration. The lyrics could be recycled cliches. That "Christian" band could actually be giving Jesus a bad name because they aren't a great band. It is possible for a movie to be a "Christian" movie and to be a terrible movie. It may actually descrate the art form in its quality and storytelling and craft. Just because it is Christian book by a Christian author and it was purchased in a Christian bookstore doesn't mean it is all true or good or beautiful. A Christian political group puts me in an awkward position: What if I disagree with them? Am I less of a Christian? What if I am convinced the "Christian" thing to do is to vote the exact opposite?

Christian is a great noun and a poor adjective

Thank you Rob Bell.

(From his book Velvet Elvis)

from the book of wisdom by gilad

Bandaid solutions

We keep writing to solve our problems. We write to share the burden. To talk about problems. We keep writing to better life. We write to fill the gaps. To better our minds. We keep writing as a path to guide our souls. We write to evangelize. To deepen spiritual our spiritual lives.

Writing, writing, writing. We keep reading books searching to identify, searching for solutions. We expand our crusade into other medias, maybe for those of us who are too busy, or too lazy to read. We search for in tv programs, help-groups, and even in church do we provide a format for easy steps to following God and overcoming problems. We create programs, make videos, if you have a problem there's some one out there that you've never met who knows exactly what you've been through. Except they don't know you. As much as you may feel like the people around you don't understand you, or what you're going through, some person writing a book who's never seen your face can't hold a candle to knowing you.

For all the gloriousness of the North American lifestyle there are gaps in our lives. There are things that we're just not doing right and we're filling it with newer shinier things, we're filling it with a brand new program, a book, video series. We create things to create community, we create things to fix broken families, we create things to tell others about God, we create things to fill the inadequacies that we don't like. But for all of our honest efforts we're not doing much good, while we keep ploughing foward we don't realize what we leave behind. While we are creating to try and control our downfalls, to make life as bright and shiny as we dream it to be, to reach utopia, we loose the beauty of disaster.

You may find it ironic that I write to say this. I have no problem with books and inspiration writing. I love C.S. Lewis I do not have a vengence against media... I use msn and email to talk to friends that I can't see. I do have a problem with trying to create community, but I'll admit that I for some reason hang out with a group of people get together to read a 'motivational' book so that we can be a 'community'. The problem is that we rely on these methods, we rely on these modes of connecting, we rely on our own institutions, instead of the institutions that have already been created. We don't want to hear wisdom from our parents, we don't want community with the annoying little kids who aren't as mature as we are. We want to hang out with people who know what we're going through, so we create youth groups and college and career, we create small groups and kids clubs. There we can identify and choose to be held accountable with others. Heaven forbid that we be forced to identify with the senile old man or our little brother.

hide n seek by gilad

you can stop holding your breath...

well I can't say that I've had a desperate longing to have the internet at my fingertips, I've actually enjoyed the break from having a computer constantly on in my bedroom. But since the internet is cheap in the jaw and checking my email once a day for a few minutes at home sure beats spending 2 hours at Joe's trying to blog and reply to emails every week I am back in action with the internet at home. Really you've only had to bear with my absence for 2 months.

that's all I really have to say. just hello and it's good to be back after a lil' vacation.

time shift by ssilence

it's just a piece of glass

well, I started working the grave shift at Smitty's. This work out very well...or it could be very bad. We'll find out after a week or two.

But as promised I have something more substantive for you.

Have you ever noticed how dependant we are on mirrors?
We mount them in every bathroom, most usually find them in hallways or entryways.
We spend countless hours staring at ourselves in them.
And when we come acrossa bathroom that doesn't have a mirror or find ourselves without a bedroom mirror, we find it odd, even annoying.

I like mirrors. I like how they can make my little living room look larger by it's wide reflection. (We have a hot full length mirror in our living/dining room that we fixed up from Joe's Place) I love the crazy things that we can do with them. Place two mirrors across from each other and the world between becomes endless within their frames.

But I do wish I'd spend less time in front of the mirror looking at myself.

This is in no way intended to be a revolutionary thought, but:
people for thousands of years (no exaggeration) have lived out their daily lives without having to look in a mirror. Let alone needing to look into one every time they go to the bathroom.

How did we develop this bizarre dependency on a peice of glass?

If I was perhaps more over-zealous I might go take down the mirrors out of my bathroom and bedroom. Actually I wouldn't put it past myself, except that it might bug Juliana, and really it is I that is the problem, us that is the problem, not the glass.

the cherry tree by gwarf

Outside my childhood bedroom there grew a lilac bush. Hundreds of tiny purple flowers on each branch from which comes the most intoxicating scent my nose has ever encountered. They come and fade too quickly, but they always come back again. Above is not a picture of lilacs, not in the least but I don't have a picture of lilacs...

Moose Jaw is covered in lilacs, at least in my corner of Moose Jaw. And it occurred to me today as I was dazzled by all the purple and white, that Lilacs are indeed my favourite flower. When the question of what one's favourite flower is comes around somehow my mind searches through what would be found on the shelves of a florist shop rather than spanning the selection that nature holds. Perhaps because when we think of favourite flowers we think of it in terms of what we would like someone to buy for us. I looked to what man has tamed and mass produced rather than to all that God has created. Then again perhaps attempting to narrow one specific choice from all the variety is equally ill-focused rather than enjoying all flowers.

I still like Lilacs a lot

(but I wouldn't be disappointed if I was given a dozen roses, or oriental lilies, or calla lilies, or daisies... so I wouldn't be disappointed if I was given flowers, although I might be slightly bewildered if I was given a bunch of thistles.)

To answer a few questions that I've been asked. I'm working at Smitty's, and ... well I forgot the rest of the questions I was asked. Anyhow. I'm going home to sew myself a new shirt. I'll have something to feast your minds upon soon, I promise.

vitamine c by coxi

life in the jaw

I've lived in Moose Jaw a month and a half and summer is on the way. Today I submitted the post work on my mod. I'm free! really FREE! Let the summer begin!

To celebrate my new found freedom I finally cleaned my car. It was kinda gross. I vaccuumed, and I washed the inside and washed the outside... Subulba is as hot as a rusty subaru loyale is ever going to get.

I've also been sick, actually I've been fighting some infections this past semester, but the doctor put me on anti-biotics these past two weeks, and after visiting him again today a more different kind of anti-biotics for these upcoming weeks. This posts art piece is to celebrate the getting better process.

Work is going good. I made tips for the first time on Wednesday.

So that's a little update. Now that I've got a little more time perhaps I will post a fantastic rant someday soon.

standing still by gilad

Alienation

A friend last week was talking about feeling lonely, and I don't know why but it surprised me. Surprised that anyone could feel lonely with people always around them. Perhaps I banked a little too much on having a roommate who was excited to hang out and do roommate things together. Perhaps I hoped too much that the problem these past couple years was the lack of roommate closeness. But somehow I managed to elude the memory that the alienation that I live with, doesn't come and go with more or less people. Doesn't even come and go with the "right kind of people"; people I "feel" comfortable with.

But how could I have forgotten? How did I manage to dilute myself to thinking that a lack of presence was to blame? Maybe I just didn't want to face the fact that it is always there. It does not matter how long I have known someone, or how often I hang out with them. I cannot fight being an outsider, never completely being a part, it never leaves. People have told me that everyone goes through these feelings, everyone feels lonely, everyone feels like they don't belong.
This is crap.
This isn't just lonliness.
This is always being the odd one out. You've seen it. You've said it. I don't quite fit. Perhaps this is why I try so hard to make thing in my life inclusive, on trying to share with as many as I can. Because standing on the outside blows, I don't want anyone to feel this; but then again perhaps I'm just trying to buy my own way in by including others.

Doesn't it seem strange? Or just to ironic? that a girl who seems to engage with others easily, talks too much, and is willing to discuss all matter of things iwth interest feels like an outsider to every group of friends she's ever had?
Don't tell me I'm not alone.
Telling someone who always feels on the outside that they should take comfort that there are others like her is like telling introverts they should band together so they can talk about how they feel. But I guess there's another answer isn't there?
It's my fault.
I've chosen this.
If I just try harder.
Yea, I've heard that in my own head a million times, and I've heard it from others enough times. Maybe I am the problem. Maybe it's a mental disorder. Maybe it's because I am just as weird and crazy as people joke that I am.
You may be thinking that you were more right then you knew when you told me so. You may be just rolling your eyes. Even if you hadn't said it'd still be there, it'd sill be true.
So I guess I lied to my friend in a way, by being surprised by lonliness. It was unintentional. Lonliness is a side-effect of alienation, sometimes it bugs you, sometime it doesn't. Right now, it's bugging me.

listen by ciril

Do we actually read and listen to the things about us, or merely look at and hear words? While some of us emphasize the message behind the medium, quite often the only thing that we can do, and perhaps are hard pressed to admit, is listen to words like notes in a song for the only thing we can understand from them is that they are sound. Or look at them like art on the wall for the only thing we can know for sure is that they are visible. We judge their form and function and are so focused on how they fit together that what those words were really meant to say to you are a mystery lost upon most.

sensing by garrit

fragrant future

how often have we tasted something completely new? On one hand we have a most wide variety of cultural dishes and international foods, especially in Canada where people cling to national backgrounds and the favorite foods that come from them. Then again, on the other hand, most of what we have in North America sugared modifications and usually what is *new* is just different blends of familiar flavours.
I was in the grocery store last week and found a fruit called a pummelo, it looks like a giantic grapefruit. I cracked it open, peeled off chunk after chunck of yellow skin, and pulled away the spongey cushion. And as I did an entirely new scent, and some pummelo juice, met my nose. The fruit was like a grapefruit, only it was sweet. But the smell, the smell was wonderful. It was fragrent like flowery perfume, with no alcohol base to tint the flavour. It overtook my nose, it overtook my senses, charging a new path in the memory banks of my brain. I do not know how long I stood there sniffing the rind of this fruit, but I do know the scent was all over my hands. I kept sniffing them wondering if I could buy this fruit and use it instead of perfume.

I move tomorrow. The next few weeks will be a little wonky as I finish up the semester, and my house is a disaster (so many things to take care of and clean up!). Although it is not a stark change into something completely unknown, life is going to look very different. It will the opposite from last summer, where I spent many hours in solitude, to being closer to more of my friends than I ever have been outside of school. I have no intention of keeping an internet connection. I did that last summer, but now it is more indefinate. I think I will like the break from it being so readily available; it is an easy distraction. And I will still have access at other places (so write emails, all of you!!). I'm not completely done with Briercrest, but my connection with it will certainly be less prevalent since I won't be living in the school's back yard. Those are just a few distinctions.

If you've known me very long than you have more than likely heard me protest against the idea of changing one's surroundings in order to deal with challenges or disasters that face us. It's an understandable and easy reaction to want to be rid of anything that reminds us of less than favourable circumstances, and in our society we can easily change, easily avoid, those things; I think it is the ease with which this can be done is what bothers me. That same changability that rightfully removes a women from an abusive husband allows a worker or friend from resolving conflict. If less of us are forced to 'buck up', so to speak, less of us will. Granted we can't take every bull by the horns, there are things we just need to walk away from. But perhaps I am just inexperienced at life and conflict and truly dispairing situations to speak on the subject.
In any case, all that is leading up to the thought that I am leaving here with a heart that is slightly more resolved in some of the conflicts that have arisen. Although circumstances may not be rectified, I am relieved to be released from some of my own 'demons', faults, and failures before facing a new adventure. Before letting something else completely suffuse my senses.

the meeting point by gilad

when all is said and done

A friend recently asked me what I want from the 80-100 years of my life, and I couldn't readily give him an answer. Perhaps it is God's hard work upon my heart to take one day at a time. Perhaps it is because my mind thinks of 60 years down the road as too far away to even imagine what could happen within it. But when I think of what I want from the time that I will spend on earth my mind finds it difficult to pinpoint what I could culminate from all of this. There is so much to want, so much to focus our lives at working at. It does not have to be a profession, although it is tempting to think of it that way. When one speaks of what we are going to make of ourselves it is tempting to think of a profession to devote ourselves to. But life is more than that, and I think many people realize that hopefully sooner rather than later.

There was once a time when we could say that our profession was who we were, you were a blacksmith, farmer, lawmaker or keeper; a seamstress, midwife, or basket weaver. Though this was their unchanging designation, it was not all a person was. They were still, father, mother, child, neighbour, and friend. The blacksmith could still be described as whether or not he was an honourable man, or discerning father. The seamstress could still be deemed a loving woman, or a keen mother. Now we still easily define ourselves by our occupations, but it seems to be less of a consistent standing. All this rambling to say, whatever occupation befalls us, whether we are devoted to just one, or whether it is ever changing, there is more that defines us.

When you think about what you want from life over the 80 years that you will be here what do you think of? Do you think about what your schooling has trained you for? Do you think about having a family? Buying a car, a house, a nice backyard? I thought about it... I'd like a backyard, a backyard with people, people I can't get rid of, people who drive me nuts. I've thought about those options. The image of becoming an old women with grandchildren, all their friends, and the neighbourhood kids to bake cookies for, resounds favourably in my mind. But really I cannot hope for then more than what I hope for now (ok I am already baking cookies for all the neighbourhood kids, or at least the boys next door. In fact now that I think of it, my life is filled with people who drive me nuts, people I can't get rid of. I do my best to return the favour), but more to the point, that what I hope for would be closer to what the aged philosophers would have called a happy life. Whether I die today, or 60 years from now, what I want from life is have left behind a trace of God's grace. Whether my years here have turned out tragedies or blissful existence the day I die I hope to leave here having followed God. This I would hope would bleed into every aspect of my existence.

Good Bible College student answer, right? Bah. I suppose that is why the answer can't really be given until after I die. I can give the good answers all I want, anyone can aspire to speak the answers that we like to hear, but is seemingly impossible to live up to. We become tired of such answers, much like many of you have probably become tired reading this. We all say a lot, trying to talk ourselves to the answers, but it's mostly things we’ve heard before. I'd be surprised if a quarter of the people who view my posts actually read beyond the first few lines. I doubt I've said anything much different than what I've said before, and I know I cannot have said anything different than anyone has said before. But there it is; when I die you'll be able to test and verify whether I have lived what I hoped to get... or give... from my time here.

words by ssilence

Trailer talk

I am taking down the quote wall as I'm slowly cleaning up and cleaning out my house. I thought I would post the quotes for all to enjoy, especially those who used to frequent the quote wall here and the fridge next door. There are some from past years... I'm trying to remember more of them but I'm having trouble, so if you can remember one that I have forgotten drop a comment and add to the collection! (or if I've quoted it wrong, correct me!) (especially quotes like Nolan's quote about being the emperor of hell...)

(the lack of backstory makes some of these funnier, and slightly questionable... if curious as to context leave a message and I will explain)

You don't make Christianity look good, you make rock look worse. ~Hank Hill

Screwing... is what I do. ~Tony Creech

It's ok to be girly, it's not ok to be stupid. ~jo

He's all Kant, all the time. ~Tim Hildebrand

I hope he marries someone twice his size who beats him regularily. ~overheard by Eric while sitting in class

When you see a yak in love coming straight at you, you better run man, I mean you better run! ~Cupid

I may be weird, but I'm not a pervert. ~Vickie

It's fagificient! ~jo in a dyslexic reference to June Ann's rainbow head scarf

You! You look militant! What size are your feet? ~Joe Dueck

I'm going to go back to smashing my nuts with a hammer. ~Adam

Corruption keeps us safe and warm. ~some texan politian in Syriana

The most beautiful part of my body is my lower intestine. ~jo

There's nothing like looking when you want to find something. ~Gimli

Girls are all nurses at heart, they need a project to work on. So guys, if you want to get a girl, be damaged. ~Chuck Keim

If I were gay, I could do better then you! ~Terry to Eric

If I had boobs I'd use them for good. ~Barnd

You could never be butch, you're estrongen embodied. ~Bekah to jo

You're going to shoot a lobster with an airsoft gun!?! ~ sarah? to curtis? i can't quite remember

Freedom defined is freedom denied. ~Emma Goldman or Red Emma
(written on my wall by mysterious hitchikers that Dezzie and Carlyle picked up)

There ain't no such creature. ~Joel From (you have to know him for that to be funny)

Just give me an axe, I'll prove my womanly worth! ~jo

Hey, do you sew? ~Eric's famous icebreaker line

Apples huh? ~Ed's famous icebreaker line

Long lineup for the milk eh? ~ Someone else's famous icebreaker line (Andrew?)

Parents who try to raise perfect children are certain to raise neurotics." R. Greenleaf

Kissing a man without a mustache is like eating an egg without salt. ~Rudyard Kipling

I just realized that that's not a shirt. ~jo to Curtis in reference to his hairy chest