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.

The Pirates!

I've been reading a hilarious book. It's called The Pirates! In an Adventure with Scientists. Definitely on my "recommend" list. Maybe it's not classic literature or intellectual reading, but if you want a book of distracting, fresh, and funny fluff, definitely pick this one up. I think that there's others in the series too, the first one being titled just The Pirates!

I'm learning appreciation!

Yep, it's that time of year again. January sucks, and I say that in the kindest way possible. See, there has to be a January... and a February... in order for our finite human minds to understand that May, June, and July are so amazing. Those living in tropical countries, although admittedly they can enjoy summer temperatures all year round, really don't have the capacity for appreciating the spring and summer months that we Canadians do. By the time winter is over, we're so sick of it that green grass, blue skies and fresh fruit are like a little taste of heaven here on earth.
This is my attempt to be thankful for snow and -12 temperatures. I'm learning appreciation for summertime. Bring on the snow. I'm Canadian. I can deal with it.

So Bored!!!

I've spent the last week doing absolutely nothing. I'm all caught up on my homework, too, which is the sad part. Why do they try to bore the heck out of you all the way through January and halfway through February, and then after reading week and all through March and April they throw everything at you at once? This semester I'm going to have absolutely nothing to do anyway, since I found out that one of the courses I registered for doesn't transfer to the University of Lethbridge anyway. Actually, two courses, but one of them is kind of interesting. And if I was taking only 10 credits, I might die of boredom. So I've decided to drop my Friday morning class, Psychology and Christian Thought, because a. it's useless to me, b. it's boring, and c. why bother doing all that work and not getting any credits for it? So I'll still have thirteen credits, but I'll be paying for seventeen. And I can't even pick up a different course that will transfer, because there isn't a single one that fits with my time schedule. Not even one!
Sigh... life is so unfair. Poor me.
On the brighter side - I never knew I was such a good cook. I like to make everything I can from scratch: casseroles; interesting combinations of vegetables and melted cheese in pita pockets; hard-boiled, fried, or scrambled eggs; salads; fruit and yogourt smoothies; steamed vegetables; pancakes. I haven't tried my crockpot yet, but I probably will sometime this week. It will be an adventure, but I've had pretty good luck so far with trying new things.
It seems like everyone is just trying to make it through January. What a terrible month! December is so full of good food and parties and pretty lights, lots of warm and fuzzy feelings, and of course, time spent with your family (even if they do try to shoot you with BB guns and swear at you - what can I say, I guess we're dysfunctional). Then you get to January, and it's all anyone can do to get out of bed in the morning. No one has any money, the snow that was so pretty in December is dirty and crusted over, and reading week is a whole month and a half away. No wonder everyone is in a bad mood.
I was thinking today about how much I complain about everything. I'm a very negative person a lot of the time. I am really very blessed, but there's always something to whine about, whether it's Taylor's policies, the annoying people that I go to school with (I really do love ... most of ... you guys) or just plain old boredom. But I should try to look on the bright side, because I have a roof over my head, good food, and a loving family. I'm getting out of this gongshow in three months, and then hopefully life will start to get a little bit brighter. With any luck I'll find a good-paying job (or two of them) in Lethbridge and spend the summer in a nice little basement suite. (It'll be so good to see the sun again!!!) I'll spend my weekends relaxing, reading good books, and sun-tanning. It will be lovely. The best part is that it's so close to home that I can go anytime I want. And that's important to me too.
So... here goes nothing. Bring on the boredom, I'll enjoy it while it lasts.

A Cooking Calamity

I was just looking at my pictures from the Christmas Banquet. It struck me that my hair is a lot shorter now. I feel butch, even though it's still longer than my shoulders. Hey, at least it's not such a pain in the butt anymore. I paid 30$ for that darn haircut, I'd better like it.
Ah, the blahs of January. I don't particually want to look back at my Christmas vacation, since it turned out to be more stress than it was worth. That's a long story and rather personal, so I'll just leave it for now. However, in spite of my reluctance to think back to how I spent my 2 1/2 weeks of respite from school, I don't really want to look forward into the future. I have a feeling that it's going to take all my determination to make it to reading week.
Right now, I feel like a character from a Grisham novel. (I just filed a 10 page, well-researched brief explaining why my medical problems justify my doctor's note that asks that I be exempt from Taylor's ridiculous cafeteria meal plan.) It makes me extremely angry that I have to defend my right to cook my own meals. Yeah, I know that the administration has to make rules... they need to make money too, which I think is their bigger concern anyway... and so they want to make sure that people aren't just trying to get out of buying a meal plan for the heck of it... but I thought that my doctor's note should have convinced them. Do I have to go into disgusting detail about my disorder, my medical history, my personal problems? Why is the word of my doctor just not good enough? I apologize for the sarcasm, but to me they're just putting another nail in their own coffin. I'm sure not going to come back here next year, or ever recommend this school to anyone who is actually serious about pursuing their academic interests.
I'm so bored. I want to go to the library and get a good book to read, but I can't miss my class this afternoon. Also, a friend from last year is coming to visit this afternoon, and I'm looking forward to seeing her. Perhaps I should clean my room so that it's actually decent by the time she gets here. It smells like fish in here, since I cooked myself salmon last night. Tonight I'm having spaghetti. I like cooking a lot. If the yo-yos in administration force me to buy a meal plan, I'll chuck all the meal cards in the garbage and continue to cook for myself. Maybe I'm just as stubborn as they are - I don't really care. Two can play this game.

Christmas banquet

These are just some pictures from Friday night. It was a lot of fun. Sara is in the green dress, Randa is wearing purple, Heather is wearing black with her hair up, and of course I'm the one in the pink and black dress. After the Christmas Banquet we went to the mall - that's where the picture in the front of the Christmas tree was taken. Then we went back to a friend's house and camped out on the floor and watched Elf. It was a lot of fun.

Christmas Banquet!!!!!

Today is Taylor's famous Christmas banquet. The freshmen look forward to it all year and dress up in their high school graduation getup - the sophomores usually break out their little black dresses and musty ties - the juniors rarely go, since they have a life outside of school - and the seniors - oh sorry, I forgot, what seniors? Most of them transfered to other schools long ago. Oh my. Witness the cynicism. Actually, truth be told, I'm pretty excited. I think it will be lots of fun. The gym undergoes a wonderful transformation, although that's not the biggest miracle. All the ordinary people who go here suddenly morph into fairy-tale characters. The guys shave, the girls dab on the sparkles and makeup and evening gowns, and everyone usually finds some way to hide their warts and abnormalities. Dressing up is so much fun. It usually takes us all day to get ready - at least, for us girls... but it is totally worth it. I can't wait to see everyone tonight.

Here we go again...

Another week in the trenches and I'm still alive! It's a miracle.
I have had an amazing week, a terrible week, a frustrating week. And tonight will be just another chapter...
I haven't been to Millwoods Pentacostal Assembly for a long time. It really doesn't bother me to go there anymore; I just haven't really had a reason to go. But I haven't gone to church for the past two Sundays, and I really wanted to go today. The early service today at Greenfield Baptist was out of the question, since it's doubtful that I would have been able to rouse myself. I've had a pretty sleep-deprived weekend. So I called Sara and asked if I could go with her and Mark to church tonight. I hope that we don't stay out too late, since I have a paper to finish. Just 700 more words... but I don't know how I'm going to find them!
Well, that was a tangent. Sorry. So what was I saying? Oh yeah, MWPA. I always enjoy the service there, but it's also such an emotional wringer for me. Somehow I manage to always meet up with some old friend that makes come unglued. Still, I want to overcome my emotional dependency on routine, and that means going to different places... getting out of my comfort zone... doing what doesn't come easiest for once.
All this sounds lovely, but I still have a bit of apprehension for tonight.
Maybe if I take a nap...

I'm hopeless!

Every bit of self-discipline and frugality I ever had has been completely thrown out the window! For the past month I've been so responsible and practical... and working so hard on my schoolwork, that I thought to myself, Grace, you've finally started to grow up! Then, yesterday, I really blew it. The day started off with me just being grumpy. I didn't work on my paper at all, and then, right before I went to work, I decided to just "stop in" at Below the Belt. Unfortunately, they had an amazing sale. Three shirts and thirty dollars later, I felt a little bit guilty, but not enough to stop myself. I guess when I shop, I really shop. Today Randa and I went to the mall, and I managed to find two pairs of shoes and a down vest at Foot Locker. And the saleslady really got me on the right day, cause I ended up saying "what the heck" and buying a protective spray for my new suede Powder Room skate shoes.
It's a good thing I don't go shopping very often, cause when I do... I'm utterly hopeless!!!
P.S. It's 4:15 in the afternoon, and I still haven't started working on my paper yet! Aaaah!

Scarred ... for at least the next month!

I've come to the somewhat embarrassing and uncomfortable conclusion that I will never outgrow my teenage clumsiness. This comes as a result of an incident that occurred on Monday night at work.
I have two customers lined up at the counter. The one last in line is late for a meeting, and begs me to let her go first. The other customer obviously doesn't want to be displaced. I tell them I will go to the back and get my coworker...
Cheryl comes out and begins to help Impatient Woman. I start to wrap up the other woman's items, trying to hurry since I feel bad about the delay already. In my haste, I drop her bag on the floor. I bend over swiftly, and the passage of my head through space intersects with the edge of the counter. Now I'm dizzy and disoriented, and the way that the woman is staring at my head clues me in to the fact that this was no ordinary accidental bump.
"Um... I think you should... maybe wash that... it's starting to bleed," she says as I hand her her bill.
In the bathroom, I put peroxide on the cut, wondering in amazement how I could have hit myself hard enough to break open the skin. It refuses to stop bleeding. In my frustration, I finally put a bandaid on it.
My embarrassment lasted the rest of the evening, as the pink bandaid looked rather startling and odd right in the center of my forehead.
Most of my thinking processes shut off for the rest of the evening. I felt a little sick to my stomach.
Yesterday, I was reading in my Developmental Psychology textbook that the average eight year old has gained an understand of spatial relationships and how objects move in space. They can judge the path that something will follow in space. It makes me wonder whether I somehow missed that stage in development, since I don't seem to even have an awareness of the path my own body will travel in space. Even Kevin McCallister on Home Alone has a better awareness of what objects are likely to cause injury if applied with force to one's person.
Now, the evidence of my accident is branded on my forehead in the pattern of a little pink scar and a shiny bump. I wish that I had a photo to post of how I looked with my little bandaid. When my friend Heather saw me she began to laugh for the space of about a minute. All I can say is if my injury brings such joy and mirth to the soul suffering from midterm overdose - well, then I'm willing to sacrifice my dignity for my friends. Besides, there's not much I can do about it anyway!

Emotional Bug-guts on the Windshield of Life

I'm so exhausted! I just want to fall into bed and sleep forever and ever... but tomorrow the crazy circus of life starts all over again. Between midterms, my job, and my practicum, I think that November will be the proverbial ... well, I was going to say "month from hell", but I don't think that's very proverbial! Besides, I think that hell is more likely to be very, very boring. But hey, that's just my personal opinion. And I don't really know anything right now except that my eyelids are involuntary closing...
Today just started out as a "Jonah day." I told one of the girls at work that it was one of those days when you just keep thinking about ex-boyfriends. Really, I'm usually pretty good at "forward motion." But not today. All night, I had terrible dreams about my evil ex(s). It was actually quite embarassing. And the day didn't get much better. I tried to study, and succeeded only in stressing out. I was supposed to go for a run, but I could hardly drag myself off the floor. My patience level steadily decreased as we spent Children's Lit class discussing how every single girl thought that she was Anne of Green Gables when she was a child.
It's not all that bad... I just like whining, waxing sarcastic, and complaining about the little irritants. This blog is such a good outlet! My limited readership will just have to put up with the occasional emotional bug-guts on the windshield of my life.
Oh dear me. The metaphors of the struggling English major!