Kummerspeck

This word made me laugh. Because it's so me. It should probably be the name of my blog.
What does it mean, you ask? I found the definition here.
Kummerspeck: a German term for the weight people gain as a result of emotion-related overeating.
Sad, but so applicable!

March is a gross month

Why is it so hard to be happy in March? Wait, let me amend that. Why is it so hard to be happy in March when you're living in Edmonton? Hmm, I guess there's several reasons, one of which would be that, rather than being a blustery month of wind, rain, and melting snow, it's been a blustery month of wind, snow, snow, snow, snow, and hmm... what else... more snow. The weather that we should have gotten in December has finally showed up, bared its icy teeth, snarled at us, and driven us back inside. Where I have been huddling pathetically, neglecting everything important to me: my schoolwork, my diet, my exercise routine. My life is at a standstill. And it's starting to become extremely frustrating. I have no motivation. I can hardly force myself to go to class, to get out of bed, to wear anything else but sweatpants. I'm developing an eating disorder. And my grades are going down a very slippery slope of no return.
Well! That was a load of whining, and I feel somewhat better, having vented satisfactorily.
What worries me today is the fact that the library is telling me that a certain CD I distinctly remember returning two weeks ago is in fact still out. I suppose I ought to go to the library and get it cleared up right away, but it's not a very nice day outside and I don't really feel like tromping through the snow, waiting outside in the cold, and spending an hour in transit on the buses. Like I said, I'm feeling rather lazy, and it just all seems too overwhelming and confusing. All I can do is crawl back into bed and wait until it's all over.

Just Recently

I just got back from a visit at Randa's house. This weekend was really full for me. I can hardly believe it's already over. And then, only 1 month until school is out. 1 month, 1 paper, 1 video project, and 4 exams. I think I can handle this!
I am so excited to move into my new place. Did I ever blog about the little basement suite that I found in Lethbridge? Well, I didn't exactly find it. I was randomly talking to Amy Jo one day and she told me that her cousins had a place in Lethbridge and were looking for a renter for the basement. I went to see the place during reading week and immediately liked it. So I sent them a damage deposit and now it's waiting for me as soon as I want it. I can't wait to set up my living room, kitchen, bathroom and bedroom exactly the way I want them. I can't wait until I can keep everything as clean as I want it. I can't wait to sit down at a real kitchen table in the morning with my bowl of cereal and Sudoku or crossword puzzles. It's going to be lovely.
What won't be lovely will be trying to find a job. I have no idea where I'm going to work this summer. It worries me.
Well, I'm going to go and work on my Renaissance Literature presentation for tomorrow.

Three Stanzas of Stream of Consciousness Poetry

Maybe if I had ever felt that way
And you had ever looked outside
Then we could understand each other
But I feel the slippery slope
Of words, harsh and awkward,
Tumbling off iron tongues
And we find a plexiglass wall between us
Steel rivets and 2x4s
An engineering marvel wrought by our own power
Power of a misunderstanding.

Care Bears and sunny yellow fabric
Stitches of love, soft and warm
It caresses a too full belly
Will I ever ever go back to that place
When a rocking chair fixed it all
And I could forgive your mistakes
And mine.

Cause here I see a haze of sleepwalkers
Amazing, amazing, they chortle
Mouths full of cotton sleep,
Heads full of candy dreams
On the other side of glass, they love their lives
This deromanticized dream has become
A nightmare that I wake to every day
Oh I want insomniac pills
To stop up this bloated purple fear.

Avoidance of the Big "S"

Well, here I sit, enjoying the high feelings of euphoria gained from an eleven hour sleep, badly needed due to utter exhaustion from the day before. On Thursday night, Holly and Sara came out to Schindler, and we had a Mary Kay makeover party. Then, on impulse Holly stayed over and we all slept in Randa's room. Randa had to get up at 7:30 to make it to class and then to basketball, but Holly and I were going to sleep later - until I opened my mouth and volunteered to make french toast for everyone before Randa left. To make matters worse, Heather came in just as we were getting settled in bed and, of course, wanted to join the party. She asked if she could sleep in Holly's bed. Holly agreed. But Heather is a big girl, (5'11", I think?) and has no control over her muscles when she sleeps. She sprawled out, and Holly, desperately trying to not fall off of the bed, still couldn't sleep at 4:30 am. So she moved into my bed, and although there were no more falling-out-of-the-bed incidents, its always harder for me to sleep when I have to remain aware of how my limb movements are affecting the other occupant of a twin-sized mattress. I slept rather fitfully for the next few hours, and then got up to make french toast for everyone. It was fun. We set up a picnic in the middle of the hallway and wolfed down our food. Then, Randa and Holly left - Heather went to her room to do schoolwork - and I wandered around like a zombie for most of the day, getting nothing done.
It was our spring concert last night (and tonight again) and we were all supposed to dress up in prom dresses for it. It's supposed to be kind of funny, cause Geoff comes in right when all of the choir is on stage, dressed up, and he pretends to be some kind of redneck auctioneer. Well, it would have been funny on a different day. But I had a roaring headache and my eyes were involuntarily closing, and I was wearing Kirstin's dress, which although its gorgeous and makes me look fantastic (no false modesty - I'll post a picture later :) ) is also a size 2 and incredibly tight. We muddled through the concert (we'd had no dress rehearsal and the whole thing was basically a gong-show) and then afterwards I had to spend time with some friends from last year whom I haven't seen in a long time. So by the time I got in at about 10:00 I was exhausted, and went straight to bed, and slept for eleven hours.
All this would be well and good (and probably boring anyone reading this to death) but I have two papers due really soon and I have to get started on them and I haven't even picked topics yet. And here I sit, posting to my blog, about to call my mom, and in general trying to avoid schoolwork like it could kill me or something.
I will do some this afternoon. I will. I must.
Well... I guess there's always Sunday afternoon...

Mmm, chocolate....

The chocolate craving hit me yesterday. I had to have chocolate or I was going to die. So I grabbed Heather and we walked to 7-eleven where I purchased a rich bar of this...

...and a bottle of this...

because this juice really is one of the best ever.
But then I got back to my room and I decided that I didn't want to eat my chocolate right then anyway. So I saved it for this morning. Some people think chocolate should be enjoyed in the evening, but I think that 10:30 a.m. is one of the best times for a little pick me up.
I had never tried Hershey's pure dark chocolate before. Although it certainly does the trick (with 60% cacoa, it's very rich and stimulating), I think I like the cocoa camino bar better. Maybe next time. Safeway is rearranging all their organic stuff so I wasn't able to find the one I wanted at the grocery store.

Googley-Bear

So, to explain...
I had a dream this morning that I was hiding in my house from two bears. One was white, and she was rummaging through the box in the entry that has all the toques and gloves and scarves. Quite harmless, really, but I was still scared spitless. So I ran and hid in the bathroom, but as soon as I got in, I heard a knock on the door, and I knew that it was the other bear, the brown one. I opened the door because I was scared that he would get angry and tear it down with his claws, and then he would be much more likely to eat me when he got to the other side. When I opened the door, there he was, standing upright and dressed in a tuxedo like a circus bear. He grabbed my hand (it hurt, but only because he had nasty claws) and then he made me waltz with him across the kitchen. Then, he took me to my little sister's bedroom where he had been playing with her toys. He then pointed to himself and said "Googley-Bear." I smiled, thinking, What an appropriate name for a bear. I then pointed to myself and said, "Grace." But our conversation didn't get any further, because I then woke up with great relief that I had survived the bear attack.
Then I googled "Googley-Bear" and came up with the picture above. I guess the most common image associated with Googley-Bear is that weird one-eyed guy off of Monsters, Inc. Believe me, he looks very different from the bear in my dreams. But somehow my mind must have connected them... ah, I don't know. Dreams are weird.
Speaking of dreams, a side-note - I was at my friends' place for a sleepover the other night, and apparently in the middle of the night, I sat upright, patted my blankets and said, "I just love this pouffy dress. It's just the best dress ever!"I do not remember the incident, but Crystal Jackson swears that it happened. And I believe her, for I must admit to a tendency to say weird things in my sleep, a trend documented by every roommate I've ever had.

A Novel Thought

I spent money today that I shouldn't have. I wasted a whole afternoon at West Edmonton Mall. That is a very tricky place for someone such as myself with limited funds. I bought a pair of boots... a pair of very funky boots... and a new bag... and a pair of pink Roxy shoes, just because they were so cute. Then I missed my bus and sat miserably waiting for the next one, comforting myself by munching on SunChips.
But all this is not the reason I felt compelled to post. You see, this evening I started wandering around on the internet looking at shoes and bags (you see, once it starts it never stops) and I realized (not for the first time) that I am consumed by material things, and it's not good.
Then, I wondered what would happen if I started carrying around all my stuff in plastic grocery bags. Would my friends still like me? Would my coworkers still be nice to me? I came to the startling realization that they probably would. (I guess we'll never find out unless I try it, which isn't going to happen in the near future).
This realization led to another one. I thought - quite clearly - Grace, people don't like you for your stuff. And that thought stopped me short.
I see now that there's really only two possibilities. 1. I have been spending money unnecessarily in an attempt to impress other people/buy affection. 2. I have been spending money unnecessarily in an attempt to make me like me better. Or, in an attempt to bring myself happiness. Either way, the motivation is ostensibly for the sake of my own self.
If possibility number 1 is true, then my realization that "people don't like me for my stuff" should, if taken to heart, relieve the enormous pressure that I feel when ever I walk into a mall. Something is telling me to accumulate material possessions, and I unfortunately often listen. On the other hand, if possibility number 2. is true, then my realization won't do a thing for me. Only therapy can help at that point. (grin... mostly kidding)
It's my gut feeling that both possibilities are true. Possibility number 1 I will attempt to cure by a return to reality every now and again... the reality that people will not like me any better because I own a pair of suede, furry, trendy boots. Possibility number 2 I will attempt to cure by a little thing I call "self-governance." "Attempt" is the key word. Maybe I can find other ways to try to make myself happy. Like chocolate. Or fascinating suspense novels. Or B-12 Vitamins. I like them all. And they don't cost (much) money.

Do you have a card that says...

"How do you girls like working at Hallmark?" the customer asked Cheryl and me last night. It was 15 minutes until closing, and we had just sold her a card which she was filling out rapidly at the counter.
Cheryl and I looked at each other and shrugged. "It's pretty good," we said. I would have told her that it was an amazing job and I looked forward to coming to work every day, but by the look on her face I don't think she would have believed me.
"I used to work at a Hallmark in Leduc for four years," she said. "Man, that was weird. I can't believe some people. They'd ask me to pick out a card for their husband, or ask for a card with elephants or some other random animal on it. Or they'd ask how long I thought a candle would burn. Like, get real, lady! As if I know."
Cheryl and I laughed nervously.
"Do you guys ever get that?" she went on. "Like, where someone wants you to find a card that says something specifically for them?"
I nodded. Cheryl nodded. Since our explanations were not forthcoming and the customer was in a hurry, she just kind of grinned at us and hurried out of the store with a "Have a good one."
I looked at Cheryl with a wry smile. "Do you remember that guy earlier this evening?" I asked. Cheryl smiled back at me. "Yep. I sure do."
A couple of hours earlier, I was asked by a guy about my age to find a card for him... a very specific card. He wanted to ask a girl out, but he didn't want to use the "love" word. He wanted to stay out of the friend zone, yet he wanted to communicate his feelings about her. In short, he wanted the card to do the dirty work for him - to tell her that he liked her, thought she was special, and then ask what she thought about being his girlfriend.
I sent him to the blank card section. "That's asking a lot out of a guy," he whined. I told him that she would just appreciate him more because of all the time he spent on it.
He left the store without buying anything.
I thought this incident was pretty random. But the more I thought about it, the more I realized that I actually like helping people pick out cards. And I like to give my opinion on them. So... next time you're in a Hallmark store... don't be scared... if you need help, ask for it! We who wear the purple shirts are usually pretty good humored, unless of course you have BO or ask us inappropriate questions or go into the back room and steal money from our purses.

My New Favoritest CD

Beautiful voice. Beautiful music. A must-listen if you're suffering from February... oops, March... blahs.

The Strange, Random, Beautiful Chaos of Life

You Are a Caramel Crunch Donut

You're a complex creature, and you're guilty of complicating things for fun. You've been known to sit around pondering the meaning of life... Or at times, pondering the meaning of your doughnut. To frost or not to frost? To fill or not to fill? These are your eternal questions.

What Donut Are You?

I think coincidences are the queerest things to think about. Because you know, there are some people who hold to the view that there is no such thing as a coincidence, and everything happens for some kind of purpose. Then, there are others who believe that things just happen, due to the interactions of probabilities. Those people don't think that anything occurs according to some grand master plan. I suppose I would place myself somewhere in between those two groups. I'd like to believe that there's some purpose to life... but on the other hand, I feel like so much of life is just "the way it happens." Lately, I've been leaning toward the "random occurences" viewpoint.
But occurences as of late have been changing my way of thinking. I shall explain. But it might take a long time, so sit tight...
It was reading week last week. I went home in a state of extreme excitement. I love reading week. There's no other week of the year that is as much appreciated, filled with as much nothingness, relaxation, movies, shopping, good eating, and good times with friends. Sometimes, I like to call it "Suicide Prevention Week" or "Sanity Preservation Week." Whatever you call it, it's also my yearly opportunity to purchase useless things (in my case, an iPod nano - so pretty) and to look forward to summer and how I'll do things differently next year. So, I had a lovely week at home. I was able to procure a basement suite for next year. I went and visited the U of L, and was duly impressed. I even found a couple pairs of pants that aren't going to fall off my cadaverous butt. (Note: I do not mean to say that I'm just one of those skinny girls who naturally look like they're anorexic. I only mean that my poor little legs are sadly out of proportion to the rest of my body, and thus my pants usually require a belt for the sake of modesty.) I managed to ignore most of my homework, yet finish the most pressing assignments. It was a very productive week.
Now, on to the coincidences. I was on my way back to school on the Greyhound, and lo and behold my seatmate turned out to be this lovely girl in her third year at the U of A, a Christian, a fellow home-schooler, and - as I found out just before we arrived in Edmonton - someone who knows my brother's friend Christy! Now, if that's not weird, I don't know what is. (Christy, if you're reading this, you are known by your book club - I mentioned the lovely time that I had had at your book club, and Gina immediately wanted to know what your name was, and it turned out that her parents know your parents!) It was extremely coincidental, and since coincidental things never usually happen to me (at least not the good coincidences, like winning the lottery) I was forced to reflect on life, and whether coincidences are actually coincidences, or actually nonexistent. That was a long sentence. I guess I just wonder how much of what happens in my life is up to me and how much of it is a product of random chance.
Well, I guess my ruminating is done. This was a weird post. I had a lot I wanted to say and I don't think I said it all, but that's OK. I'm sure it will all come out sooner or later.

GOING HOME!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

I'm just a little bit excited! Yes, I am taking almost two whole weeks off from the rat race. I'm going to travel 5 hours south to the obscure little village from which I originated. There I will vegetate, ruminate, and watch movies until I have complutely obfuscated the mass of useless knowledge spinning inside my head. Yay!!
going home going home going home going home going home going home going home going home GOING HOME GOING HOME GOING HOME GOING HOME GOING HOME GOING HOME GOING HOME GOING HOME GOING HOME GOING HOME GOING HOME GOING HOME GOING HOME GOING HOME GOING HOME GOING HOME GOING HOME GOING HOME!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Happy Valentine's Day!

I Love You... Blah Blah Blah

Well, apart from the slightly bitter/caustic tone of that heading... I'm really having a good Valentine's Day. And yes, I am single.
Last year my cousin rescued me from wallowing in my despair on this day of Cupids and kissing. This year, I'm hanging out by myself in my empty dorm, working on an annotated bibliography for Renaissance Literature, surfing the Internet, and just getting caught up on everything (like this poor neglected little blog). So I guess I didn't get rescued, (even my mom didn't send me a Valentine's Card! Boo) but I was considering my wonderfully single predicament, and I have come to the realization that I don't need rescuing. Cause I am OK with who I am. And although I would love to be in a different city and in my own house and out of school... I realize that this is a journey, and that I just have to struggle through the occasional mud-storm.
So I'm just waiting for reading week! Maybe I'll meet some charming young man on the bus. I certainly don't meet them at Hallmark - they're all buying cards for their wives and girlfriends. By the way, I never knew how busy a store could be until last night. Good grief, is every man in the city of Edmonton a last-minute shopper? Ladies, feel special. The price of cards is outrageous. I know, cause I hear about it every day from our customers. Yet, Carlton is more expensive. Shop Hallmark. Really. It's much better.
I think I covered at least three different topics in that last paragraph. My profs would cover their eyes in shame. Naughty me.

Pink Martini

Check out these guys! They're great, especially if you like something just a little bit different from your music.

Lunch

Did you know that you can make scrambled eggs in a microwave in under 1 minute, 30 seconds? Fully cooked scrambled eggs, no less?
I know what I am going to be eating every morning for the rest of my life.
In other news, I now have a persistent nagging scratch in the back of my throat. I suppose getting sick was inevitable, since my best friend has had 3 different flus in the past week and we frequently share things like food and breathing air.
Bring it on.

favoritest band EVER!!!!

OK, so I was looking around on the internet and I came across these. It's cause I broke out my LaRue Transparent CD today, which was like the third CD I ever bought in my life, and I fell in love with it instantly. It always makes me happy. Anyway, I was pretty much in love with this guy. I thought he was so hot (OK, I still do) and my friend ended up confiscating all the pictures from the CD cause I kept staring at them and I had dreams where I got to meet Phillip LaRue. Anyway, these are pictures from the album. Mmmm, so good. I just had to share them! (You all think I'm nutty now. Sorry, I'm in a weird mood today. Three posts in one day! When has that ever happened?)

I like it....

being antisocial, I mean! OK, so when I logged on this morning I really wanted to write about something... but I forgot what... and I just remembered now when I was looking at a friend's myspace. I realized that I have spent all day in my room, and I suppose people would call me antisocial. That used to be a dirty word for me. Now, I embrace my destiny! Haha, just kidding. I guess I just don't feel very antisocial... I have friends at work, and I have really good friends in my dorm. But other than that... I don't get out much. I go and watch basketball on weekends... I go to the library, go to class, go shopping, see the occasional movie. But I eat in my room, and I would rather spend the afternoon with a good book than with mostly anybody from Taylor. Cause they're stupid, awkward people. Oh geez, I shouldn't have said that. I just realized it this weekend though. Some of the guys that I know from last year were like, "Hey, where have you been? I never see you anymore." And I thought about it, and realized that I've been trying to avoid social activities at Taylor. So I guess that makes me antisocial. Not an introvert, cause I aint. People have been trying to pin that label on me for the last year. It just doesn't fit. I like parties and I like meeting new people. I'm not shy. I'm just... antisocial... here at Taylor anyway. I don't know what makes me think it will be any different anywhere else... I just know that I want to try anyway. My mom thinks that the loud, obnoxious individual I used to be is my real personality. Anyone who knew me before grade 12 would have slapped the label "sanguine extrovert" on me faster than you can say "green eggs and ham." Why is it so different now?
Ah, the mysteries of life! I'm sorry, I just had to get all that off my chest. I think that was a very disjointed paragraph. That could be because I just got up from a nap in which I had disturbing dreams and the whole time I've been writing this I've been looking at the clock on my computer and wondering how so much time has passed without me noticing. Maybe it's cause I'm dreading Monday so much. The more I try to dig my heels in the faster time goes. Oh drat, I'm off on a tangent again... don't expect anything coherent from me today.

So I woke up this morning at 9:30 am. I got up, had a big bowl of Shredded Wheat and bananas, did my crossword puzzle, and then crawled back into bed for 3 more hours, where I readThe Divided Crown , a very badly written but nonetheless entertaining fantasy novel by Isabel Glass (obviously not required reading for any of my classes!), and munched on raisins and peanut-butter-smeared rice cakes. Then, I made myself french toast and ate 4 (yes, 4!) pieces smothered in applesauce.
It was a very enjoyable morning. I haven't even made a pretense at personal hygiene. Showers are just one of those things that should never happen on a Sunday. (God made it a day of rest, right?)
Actually, it was a very enjoyable weekend altogether. Maybe that's cause I went to the library (hence the novel-reading) and then spent some of my paycheck on those yoga pants from Jacob that I've been coveting for a long time. And yesterday and Friday I spent a lot of time watching basketball, which was fun and entertaining - and time consuming. So today I have to catch up on my schoolwork. Ah, well, that shouldn't be terribly painful either.
I suppose I should be feeling guilty since I didn't go to church this morning. The truth is, I don't. The church I used to go to with Cherise hasn't exactly endeared itself to me. The pastor is actually kind of a rude person (and rude pastors are one of my pet peeves; the only rude pastor that I like is C.S. and he's not my pastor anymore). Generally, I think that pastors should be soft-spoken, knowledgeable but not arrogant, and ready to listen to people. Also, I like it when they're over forty. That way I know that there's a good chance I'm listening to someone who has more wisdom than I do. Really, I'm not picky, and I don't want to be demanding, I just figure that if I pick a place to spend a morning when I could be sleeping in, it better be with someone I respect.
I actually really miss going to church, though. I miss church in Champion, cause I know everyone there and it's really comfortable and the sermons are challenging and God-focused. One of the things that I've promised myself about next year in Lethbridge is that I'll find a church I like and make an effort to be involved. I really want that to be a part of my life again. For two years now, I haven't had a church family, and I don't want that to happen anymore.
I'm listening to Chris Rice right now. I love his CDs; they are so relaxing. His songs are very real and open and honest. I feel uplifted, yet not bombarded with trite Christianese. Sometimes, in Poetry 208, we do what Nathan and Reuben have lovingly dubbed "song-bashing." It's not as bad as it sounds; what we actually do is take apart a contemporary Christian worship song and talk about why it doesn't make the grade as good poetry, whether due to ambiguities, metaphors that don't make sense, or just unrealistic promises and statements. What's interesting is that so many of these songs we don't really think about when we sing; we don't listen to what we're saying. I think that it's been rather eye-opening for some of us, although some people just get upset that their favorite worship songs are being picked apart, and then they get all sullen.
Hmm, well, I think that's about all I wanted to vent about! Don't ask about school, I get more disgusted with Taylor everyday. (Would you believe that Ralph Korner, Residence Head-Person-Thingie, has lied to me? Yeah, like so much for integrity). OK, I'll shut up about that because I'm trying to learn stress-management techniques, which consist mainly of, don't think about it and maybe it will go away.
OK, bye!

Stanley Climbfall

It's the name of a Lifehouse CD. Actually, I don't even really like the CD. I just really like the name. Climbfall. Cause isn't that what life's all about? You climb and climb... and then you fall... and then you climb again.
I just always wonder exactly what it is we're all climbing. The ladder of success? I don't think I am. I'm too lazy. I want to have a good job, but I don't want to be a go-getter. I'm sure that most of you are shaking your heads right now at the fatal flaw in my logic. I know, I know. Just right now I don't want to think about it.
This is my sister, when she was home over Christmas. Haha, I know that if she finds out I put this picture of her on here, she'll kill me. But she's just so cute in her pjs.
And this, haha, this is a picture of my favorite winter things. I don't have many, so these things are pretty special to me. A. Chocolate (and it's actually good-for-you chocolate, so those of you who know that I'm a hard-core dieter don't need to die of cardiac arrest right now). B. Chatelaine. I just love that magazine. It's happy, real-life, and Canadian. Nuff said. C. My white mittens. I wear them everywhere and they keep me warm and cosy. I'm a big fan.