So this is Christmas

A Merry Christmas to everyone!

Another month has gone by, much the same as that first week. Go to work, come home and watch TV, use days off to go to church, clean the house, and shop for groceries. Nothing ever happens that's out of the ordinary.

Around Christmas, people get cranky I guess, and I've been on the receiving end of a number of angry phone calls. Someday I'll laugh at hearing "Thanks for ruining my son's soccer photos, click" but when it happened I was a little shell-shocked. I hope I never holler at someone for a mistake like she did.

Then, there are the bus regulars. I've never spoken to them, but that little bit of familiarity is really nice.

I was part of a Christmas production at my church again this year for the sixth time. Watching the show in rehearsals was painful at times, partly because of the disorganization, and partly because of the content. But then we thought, God is bringing people to this show, and he'll use the cheesy lines ("You've got to turn your lens toward Jesus!") and the out-of-tune musicians to help our city realize that just because we're Christians doesn't mean we've got it all together. And isn't that what being a Christian is all about anyway? Realizing we haven't got anything together.

For Christmas I've come to my parents' house in Kelowna. The last time I was here was the end of the summer, and coming back in the winter is the strangest thing. Normally Kelowna turns ugly in winter, but I was welcomed with fresh snow. It's wonderful to be home, and to have the time off, and to drive again.

We'll be doing Christmas dinner with the Kelowna branches of our family, which is a fairly large group by our standards. I'm just hoping to avoid the completely despicable but unfortunately inevitable game of Wuckie Duckie. Who invented this game, I have no idea, but they obviously had no concern for personal space.

Still frustrated by not having time to practice or do more research about graduate programs, but I've realized that it's never going to be convenient. And so, I started filling out applications. Hold me to it, friends.

To finish:

The state of things

I am living in the city of Lethbridge, which over the last five years has come to be my home. I can live with, predict, and even appreciate its weather patterns. I see people I know all over the place.

I have no car. Ugh. I'm navigating the transit system easily, but it just takes longer. And waiting at bus stops is a cold burden to bear.

I have a job. Full-time, working with a goofy photographer and his semi-awkward assistant. It's nothing to sniff at or look down on, but the thought of doing something like this - answering phones, booking appointments, writing up invoices - for the next forty years is just short of repulsive. There must be a job out there for me that I will love and look forward to going to every day.

On the bright side, today I put together someone's wedding album and she didn't hate it. Success!

Also how do people work full-time, and still have time for life? There are things I should be doing, like cleaning our house, and things I want to do, like meeting friends for lunch, that I just don't have time for. I've come to have more respect for parents who have full-time jobs and kids and still manage to get those kids to school and soccer and band and feed them while still keeping themselves upright. Amazing.

I live with two really nice girls who are, unfortunately, getting to know more about me than I'd like. For example, how much I dislike even the slightest bit of noise after I've gone to bed, which is ridiculously early. And how much I hate crumbs on the counter. And how territorial I am.

I didn't go to church on Sunday. I didn't have a ride. That's just an excuse.

I moved here planning to study with Tom, my wonderful horn teacher, and look into applying to grad programs in music for next year. So far I might have practiced once. I need to find time to practice and have lessons and research schools. If I wait too long I'll have to wait another year. And then what?

I've been cooking, just from recipes. They're easy to follow, but I know there are people who have difficulty with recipes, so I'm glad it's been working for me. Also groceries are expensive and you think twice about snacking all the time when you were the one who bought the grapes and the peanut butter.

Packing lunches for work is the lamest. I thought I was done with packed lunches when I finished school but I don't think I ever will be. Sandwiches, apples, granola bars. Exciting.

Today I sound bitter about this move. I'm not really bitter, just tired from trying to work all these things out in my mind. I know it isn't a lot. But this is my first experience with real life and adjusting is hard work.

At camp during the summer we would do Pows and Wows, where everyone had to think of one Pow (a negative thing) and one Wow (a positive thing) for the day. The one rule is that you have to end on a Wow. I hate Pows and Wows, but I get the concept. So this has been a lot of Pows, and I should really end with a Wow.

I should really end with a Wow.

Lest we forget

I love Remembrance Day because it isn't about any of us; it's about all of us. There are no cards for Remembrance Day, no special dinners, no special sales, no gifts. There is no selfishness in Remembrance Day. People gather together in town squares, city halls, and sports arenas, their differences laid aside for something much bigger than any of us.

I love the lines of people standing solemnly around war memorials across the country. I love the hymns and prayers that are not protested on this day. I love the millions of plastic poppies left behind when the services have finished; our bright red promise to remember.

One day I'd love to attend a Remembrance Day service on Parliament Hill in Ottawa. Until then, I watch it on TV, tearing up during the Last Post and the Piper's Lament.

110 000 Canadians have died in wars since 1899. I have lost no one to war; I live a charmed life in a peaceful country. Remembrance Day is as much for those personally affected by war as for those like me who haven't the slightest clue what war is really like.

War has been represented in many great works of art. I love the poem "In Flanders Fields," and I love that it is as well known in this country as our national anthem. Another poem that's less widely recognized is "For the Fallen" (Laurence Binyon), though it also read at many Remembrance Day services. Two verses:

They went with songs to the battle, they were young,

Straight of limb, true of eye, steady and aglow.

They were staunch to the end against odds uncounted;

They fell with their faces to the foe.

They shall grow not old, as we that are left grow old:

Age shall not weary them, nor the years condemn.

At the going down of the sun and in the morning

We will remember them.

Something about fall

My last "here's what I've been up to because I've been pretty awful about updating anyone about my life" post ended on a blindly optimistic note. I had no idea what was coming next, but I was looking forward to it.

Now that the two months that were in the future at that time are now in the past, it strikes me how ridiculous it is that anyone would ever panic about the future. The days roll on at a rate of exactly sixty minutes per hour, and we do things, simply because we can't do nothing. I mean, you can do nothing, you can sit and do nothing, but even that is doing something. Time stops for no one.

At some point after I had written that post, I decided to go back to camp. To be honest, I had decided to spend the fall season at camp as soon as it was suggested to me. But for me, there's the point at which I've inwardly agreed to do something, and then there's the point at which I broadcast it. So when I wrote that post I just hadn't reached the broadcasting part yet.

Spending September and October at camp was great! I was a member of a staff of thirteen very different individuals. When it comes to staff teams, I've seen quite a few. I don't know that I've ever worked with so many completely different people at once, but somehow we made it work. By the end of it, though, I had spent one too many days in the dish pit and about fifteen too many days at the zipline, and I was worn out.

About halfway through October, I had the chance to briefly visit Lethbridge, the city I recently left as our family moved to Kelowna. I loved visiting friends there, seeing the university, and, above all, attending my church there.

That was the point at which I'd inwardly agreed to move back to Lethbridge.

I didn't broadcast it until I signed a rental contract for a little room in the upstairs part of a house shared with two other girls I very vaguely know. It all fell together easily. I felt sure-footed as God guided my steps, dropping things into my lap. A camp friend said, no, things are not falling into your lap, Jesus is whipping them at you!

My new house is disguised as a forest.

I am slowly adjusting to being "moved out" for the first time. I'm navigating the bus system, comparing prices, and even cooking. Yes, it was soup from a can, but the point is that I made it.

Next, I will be looking for a job. I'm not sure yet what it will be, but whether it comes as a fastball-to-the-face or a feather-to-the-sleeve, I'll take it.

Next up

Today is the last day of my fall season here at camp. I have spent close to two months here, and it's been mostly good. Each time I come back and spend a lot of time here, though, I remember that it's difficult for me to spend a lot of time here. It's hard to stay motivated and engaging so that our guests have the most enjoyable experience possible. I'm not very good at pasting on a smile despite being exhausted and annoyed. So the end is coming at a good time. I love camp, its ministry, and what we do here, but I'm glad to be able to take some time off. Then I'll be able to come back for weekends completely psyched to be here, and I love that feeling!

Next thing starts tomorrow: Moving back to Lethbridge. It's the first time I'll be moving out for real. I'll be paying rent and buying groceries like a regular person. What my life will look like for the next six months or so is pretty much completely unknown. I'm nervous, but also excited. I have missed Lethbridge more than I cared to acknowledge since we moved away four months ago.

So here's to starting something new without a clue about what it is!

An argument

The sky was on fire last night.

My left brain wanted to label it: blue, pink, orange, red, light, dark. It wanted to analyze it: smoke in the air, clouds hanging low, equinox coming soon.

My right brain wanted to dance with and sing to it. It wanted to write a song and a poem and recite it only for God.

But then my left brain said, hey, I can't quantify dancing or scientifically analyze a poem. So I didn't do any of those things.

One day my right brain will tell my left brain what's up. It'll be like, hey, your role in this brain is valuable but so is mine, and tonight we're going to dance.

And I'll dance.

A scar

Things had been rocky. Quietly tearing up at recess, wordlessly sulking through gym, thoughtfully riding home from school. A misplaced giggle selfishly defended, a growing pile of lies told to save face. A prayer, a biased mock trial, a request to stop crying all the time; it made their verdict seem insensitive.

One afternoon, some field game, laughing easily together for once. And then:

"Sarah, I thought we weren't going to hang out any more."

Polite, discrete, clear, so that I couldn't possibly misunderstand.

Walking, then running, then crying. Meeting the other girls. "She just ditched me," I sobbed. Ditched. It was all the rage then, and it had happened to me.

"What a bully," they said, but turned their backs and followed her inside.

Then, the solo walks of shame across the playground, the miserable journal entries, the quiet crying late into the night, the half-sobbed anthems of the young and dramatic. These fill books, movies, tv shows, and the pages of every girl's diary. Since then I've learned the word "cliche," but the label cannot lessen the pain of memory.

"They asked me to go with them, is that ok?" Of course, I say, and the self-pity sets in. She was the last one to go. Alone.

I bear this scar, a sixth-grade-rejection-shaped scar. My eyes well, the lump in my throat grows. Flashbacks, no less vivid with the passing of time.

Something about summer

Today marks the beginning of fall in our family, with brother and sister heading off to school. Even though I'm still working on my own plans, I'm looking forward to the new season. I love this time of changing leaves, apple harvests, and chilly mornings.

Summer will turn into a pretty memory. I've been living out of boxes or suitcases for almost all of it. It's been one of the busiest summers I've had in a long time.

I spent the month of May at Camp Evergreen, with some of the most wonderful friends I've ever had.

Then, two weeks of music in Quebec, learning from new friends and inspiring mentors.

Next, two weeks of packing and sad goodbyes in Lethbridge as we prepared to move to Kelowna, where we spent two more weeks settling in and adjusting to the heat and the welcome claustrophobia that comes with living in a valley.

After that I went to Red Deer for three weeks of MusiCamp, a steep and exhausting learning curve that resulted in more new friends and some completely fantastic times to look back upon.

I spent a week at home in Kelowna before realizing I simply had to go back to Camp Evergreen for the last week of the summer season, and boarded a plane the next day. I loved being there with friends old and new, crafting together, laughing together, walking together.

I followed more whims during the next week, visiting treasured friends in Lethbridge. The church that will always feel like home. A hike and swim outside of Fernie. Coffee with an endearing old professor - and when that got awkward, with two close friends who passed by just in time.

A ride with a friend took us to Edmonton where MusiCamp friends waited, and an amazing recital awakened something in me that slept for a while after graduation last year.

Word games, conversation, bizarre what-if questions, and the belting of power ballads made the long road trip home pass quickly. Then, this house doubled in occupants as for one night we housed friends and family heading to the coast.

And suddenly, it was over. The bags were unpacked, hair conditioned for the first time in weeks, coffee stains finally washed out.

I see that I have made more new friends this summer than I have since my first year of university. They listen, support, encourage, pray, sing, laugh, tell stories, make terrible jokes, play music, and make the day better just by existing. I love these people. I thought I was a hermit, a loner, happier by myself. I'm not. I need people, and I've got them.

And so we move into a new season. I've a feeling that this year will look much like my summer: spent in many places, with new friends to be made and new experiences to be had. This isn't the end of anything, but a continuation of what's begun.

Looking back on this summer makes me realize that I'm far too sentimental to be functional, sometimes. The rose-coloured glasses are on, but I'm glad that even though there were dark days in the last few months, my memories are bright and unfiltered. 

Dreams

People ask me fairly often, "What are you doing to do next?"
I usually reply with, "Well, I'm really not sure, I'm waiting for something to come up."
And they might say, "What's your dream? What's the one thing you're dying to do?"
And I'll say, "I don't really have a dream - or at least, I haven't identified one yet."
And they'll be like, "Well... That's weird."

I've been doing a lot of journaling lately, stream-of-consciousness journaling. I write in that style because if I think about what I'm writing before I write it, I'll censor myself and leave out the bits that I think are unacceptable because they're too ridiculous or impossible or impractical.

In my stream-of-consciousness journaling the other day, I spontaneously started making a list of things I would like to do with my life. It surprised me to see the list growing, on and on, lines filled with everything from "learn a new language" and "study medicine" to "go skydiving" and "become a foodie."

So I have come to discover that my problem is not the lack of a dream, but an overabundance of dreams, and no idea of where to start. I don't know which dream to choose first, so I haven't chosen any of them.

So... There's that.

Words

I wish my writing wouldn't lay my thoughts quite so bare. In writing, down come the walls that stand firm around other faces. My pen (keyboard?) is brutally honest, while my tongue soaks my words with irony. Here's this: some words, their meaning only thinly veiled by slight ambiguity. 

A north wind blows - strong, but not cold. In fact, it brings more heat. Sleep won't come easy tonight.
I haven't felt the wind in a while.

My neighbours drive the same car you do.
You made me laugh, more than I have in a long time. I loved your smile, loved sharing mine with you. Loved laughing with you, my newest friend.
I haven't laughed like that in a while. 

I'm in a new place now - an old place that's new to me now. Something new to try.
Worry.
Hesitation.
Fear.
 
I haven't felt at home in a while.

Things to remember

On some days, it's really hard to come up with reasons to stay here. I'm tired, I lost one of my favorite bracelets. I can't seem to hold myself on two feet today. Luckily I've been keeping a journal and I can remember some of the good things about being here, even if I don't feel like they're good things right now.

Too much sugar at 11pm
Free slurpees almost every night
Writing songs about my friends based on "Hallelujah"
The quote board
The score board
Being called "feisty" and accused of "scheming" and responding with "that's just my face"
Smiles shared among friends
Grateful looks of appreciation
The odd well-crafted joke
The communal painting of nails
Short conversations with music faculty members
Chinface and Jasper the Hobo Ghost ("bluuuuuhhh")
Bad tea "blech"
Awkward flailing after an inappropriate joke
Getting kudos'ed
Too much coffee
Mary's Lifeclass
Faculty recitals
Seeing faculty dressed in absurd costumes
Bolero at lunch
Birthday skits
Secret supes
Playing a minstrel in one of our games and playing four instruments at once
Working with people who ask how you're doing every once in a while
Meaningful conversations

So, it's not all bad.

These days

It's summer, these days. It's 35 degrees outside, and 28 inside. AC is a luxury that everyone has around here, but to ask for a house that's 10 degrees cooler than outside is a pretty tall order.

Buying new clothes is a simple thing, but wearing them gives my day just a little extra brightness that wasn't there with old, threadbare t-shirts. It's a girly pick-me-up.

I'm also trying to get into the tea hype. I bought a few different kinds that were labeled "Excellent Iced!" so I'll try those out. I'm also trying some instant iced coffee, which was a bit of a letdown.

I have a few friends (here, here, and here) who sometimes post about how things are going at Camp Evergreen. This is the first summer that I've missed in four years, and I'm surprised at how much I really  miss it. I love the community of staff, and the kids' antics. Sometimes I forget that I also really dislike excessive hyperness and mild clique-y-ness, both of which are often present there.

Next week I'll be starting work at a new camp - a band camp. Its major difference from Evergreen is that it isn't a Bible camp. I remember my one summer there as a camper, when I was fairly scandalized by a lot of what went on (tie-dying underwear comes to mind). I'm stoked to work with a few friends from Lethbridge, not to mention one of my musical heroes, Gillian Mackay. I'm looking forward to this new experience.

I'm watching episodes online of a show called Parenthood, and it has pretty much turned me off of ever having kids. You can never know how they'll grow up, what their rebellion phase will be like, how they'll react to house rules, what kind of kids they'll be. You can't control them and that's terrifying.

These days, it's summer. I'm drinking iced tea and not thinking about what comes next.

In transition

It has now been a week since I moved with my family to beautiful Kelowna, BC. Our new house is very nice, but different, so we have to organize things differently. (It's a big deal for me when I can't put the towels on a shelf in the bathroom; and now they have to go in a cupboard.) My room is small, and actually doesn't have a closet, so we had to rig something up. Thankfully my dad has building skills, and knows about things like putting nails into studs instead of just drywall, and using a level. Thanks Dad.

Kelowna is in a really pretty area of BC. The province in general is fairly mountainous, and the city is in a valley surrounded by hills, and mountains if you go just a little farther. The views are amazing, wherever you are. I love that about this place!

It's been hot, and it's going to get even hotter. Thank goodness for air conditioning and ceiling fans. The beaches are always crazy at this time of year, so we probably won't do much of that. The Ogopogo certainly won't go hungry this year.

Of course I miss Lethbridge. I miss my church, where I know most of the faces, and can share inside church jokes. (Soo... here's a benediction.) I miss the university, full of friends and colleagues and mentors. I miss the river and the coulees.

It's hard to see this as permanent. I'm in transition, trying to see what living in Kelowna means for me. (So far, it means higher car insurance.) As always, I worry about fitting in, finding a place, enjoying my life. I wonder, will any of that happen?

For now, I'll ponder these things, and be amazed by the beauty of this place.

On the river's edge

I am currently participating in a summer music study program, called Domaine Forget, in Quebec. Domaine Forget is an estate on a hillside about three hours up the river from Quebec City.

Every morning we wake up and see the St. Lawrence River from our beds. The river can be seen from almost any spot here. It’s hard to believe we aren’t actually on the ocean, since the river is so wide at this point. At times it’s too hazy to see the land on the other side.

I went to the bottom of the hill this afternoon, and sat at the river’s edge. I sat and imagined the fleets of ships that would have accompanied John Cabot and Samuel Champlain and all the other early explorers. I am amazed every time I remember that four hundred years ago, they sailed here, and looked out at the very banks on which I am currently living. Wow.

 It reminded me of a song I know. In 1999, my hometown of Rocky Mountain House held bicentennial celebrations, and a local musician wrote a song to honour the explorers who came to that area by following the North Saskatchewan River. 

Do you ever sit at the river’s edge and listen
And wonder at the stories it could tell?
Though the days have gone, is the river’s song unspoken?
Holding deep within, the secrets of this land. 

Imagine the stories the St. Lawrence could tell: explorers, traders, settlers, soldiers. Oh, the things we could learn!

Things I learned from Gandalf

I wrote an earlier post called "Must've Missed the Memo" about a few things I feel like I missed out on, like Star Wars, organized sports, and guacamole. I felt especially sorry about missing out on Lord of the Rings - I've never read the books or seen the movies. Earlier this spring I set out to fix that. I picked up the books from a nice man at a used bookstore (when I bought the second after finishing the first one which I had bought only five days earlier, he told me if he saw me again inside a week, he'd have me committed) and dug in. I devoured them and just finished last night.

I am so glad I took the time to get through these books! They are fantastic. I love Tolkien's writing, even if it does take a little extra concentration to fully comprehend what's going on. I love the descriptions, the history, the comedic moments. I love that Tolkien was so invested in the story that he made footnotes, appendices, and an index.

Have you ever finished a book and just needed to sit in silence, just feeling the amazement? I couldn't put into words how I felt about this story. So I sat, and tried to understand why I loved it so much. I guess it's just the final triumph of good over evil, despite huge obstacles, and the ultimate happy ending.

There were so many lines, paragraphs, and whole chapters that I loved. I re-read them many times, saturating my mind with the language and the implications. Here's one that I especially loved, since I find it relevant to my own life at this moment. Aragorn has asked the hobbits to stay with him a little longer, and Frodo speaks with Gandalf to find out if he might know what Aragorn has been waiting for.

And Gandalf said: "Many folk like to know beforehand what is to be set on the table; but those who have laboured to prepare the feast like to keep their secret; for wonder makes the words of praise louder. And Aragorn himself waits for a sign."

Wonder makes the words of praise louder.

The friendly type

This is the fourth season that I have spent part or all of my summer (which has now arbitrarily been defined as May-August) working at Camp Evergreen. I love it here! As a camper I attended for eight summers, and had the best time trying new things, being away from home, and making new friends.

As a staff member I have been less excited to try new things, be away from home, and make new friends - especially to make new friends. Every year the staff team is different. There's a different dynamic to fit into and to understand. It's terrifying! The question of how I'll fit in with this year's team is the one that haunts me before I show up at camp in the beginning of May.

Of course, it's never as bad as I think it's going to be, and we all become friends quickly. Exclusive friendships always develop, and that's natural, but generally the staff are pretty good at bonding as a group and becoming a community. It's fantastic!

This year hasn't been any different. The twenty-odd staff have established a great sense of community that extends to each person. Each person has a different set of talents to lend to this team.

This year's team is fairly imbalanced, with about four times as many girls. Anywhere else, this might be the recipe for a summer of drama, petty arguments, and general cattiness. Nothing like that has happened here, thankfully! It's still early, of course, but so far all seems to be going well.

I'm especially thankful, in particular, for my new friend Liz! I was psyched to read my name among the shout-outs in her blog today. Thanks Liz! Making friends with you was jumping into the deep end for me - you might have guessed that I NEVER make the first move when it comes to making friends. I ALWAYS wait for people to talk to me first. I'm happy that we're alike, and I would like to make music with you before I leave, and I wish I could stay longer and that we could be friends in the outside world as well.

Making new friends. Not so scary.

I'm writing posts elsewhere.

So this is my own private blog, and for the most part, I don't flash it around. There is a small group of people to whom I advertise my posts (well... anyone following my Twitter account...) and I'm comfortable with them seeing it.

I've taken on the role of blog-poster at Camp Evergreen, where I'm currently working. This means I can write posts (which I really like doing!) and let everyone know about them. I'm excited about writing! I just wrote a post on camp's blog about our first annual general meeting. It was fun to write! I may have gone a little too far with the figurative language and the alliteration. Anyway, check it out here, if you feel so inclined!

Relocation

I'm moving, with my family, in July, to a beautiful city called Kelowna. Most people know, but it will be news to some.

Kelowna is a city of lakes and dry hills, highways and nature walks, orchards and malls, beaches and ski hills. It's one of the most beautiful places I've ever been. The memories I have of the city make it more beautiful, in my mind.

My relationship with Kelowna is complicated.. All my life we've made the trip there and back at least once a year, since we've always had family there. I also spent my last two years of high school in Kelowna. I know the city moderately well, but my opinion of it is constantly changing.

I love Kelowna because it's beautiful. I love the lakes, the orchards, the back roads, the local non-touristy beaches. I dislike Kelowna because it's a desert disguised as an oasis, and with that comes the summer days above 35 degrees, the snowless brown and grey winters, and the excessive wasteful watering of lawns.

I love Kelowna because of the family we have there. My cousins are my age, and we spent a lot of time together in the few years that we lived there. I dislike Kelowna because I haven't always felt welcomed there. Can a city itself be hostile? I think so. For some reason I never felt cool enough to live in Kelowna. Its citizens have style. They hang out in coffee shops and see live bands and know how to waterski. I feel as though you can't be homely and live in Kelowna. I'm half-expecting to be blacklisted for lacking style.

It's a big change. I don't have a plan. I really can't say with any certainty what I'll be doing once we've settled in the new house. I'll miss Lethbridge, but it's time for a change.

If this sounds somber, it's because that is exactly my feeling toward the move. I'm not devastated at leaving Lethbridge, the city where I've spent most of the last five years, nor am I overwhelmed with excitement about leaving the wind behind. I'm not terrified about being in a new place and having to find a new grocery store, but I'm also not itching to spend every day tanning on the beach.

I am moving, and I have accepted it with cautious anticipation. Here we go - further up and further in.

Floppy Lost Her Egg!

An Easter story by Sarah, grade 2 (original grammar and spelling retained):

Once there was a little bunny named Floppy. She was an Easter bunny. One day Floppy was walking around in the woods. She was looking for one of her eggs. She kept saying "I can't find my egg." The grass was green, it was spring, and it was a sunny day. Suddenly Floppy heard I voice say "I'll help you!" Floppy, who was very starteld turned around to see a little girl named Stephanie. She said "I'll help you find your egg!" "Thank-you" said Floppy. Together they looked for the egg. Stephanie said "what color is it?" Floppy said "It was blue and pink and white." Floppy knew she dropped it in the forest. Then Floppy begain to cry. All of a sudden the forest was flooded. Then the whole province was flooded. Floppy and Stephanie tried to sweep it up, but, that didn't work. They tried to mop it up, but that didn't work, so they tried the super duper whooper cleaner upper, but that didn't work either. They sat down to think. Stephanie said "How about we use the tougher lover water eater upper!" Floppy said "that would be a great idea!" So they tried that. "It worked! It worked!" said Floppy. "But we still have to find the egg." said Stephanie. "Okay," said Floppy. They looked, and looked, and looked. Floppy was supposed to have twenty-six eggs. Floppy counted them. One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eiight, nine, ten, eleven, twelve, thirteen, fourteen, fifteen, sixteen, seventeen, eighteen, nineteen, twenty, twenty-one, twenty-two, twenty-three, twenty-four, twenty-five eggs. "Alright, let's get looking," said Floppy. Suddenly, Floppy heard a voice say "Stephanie it's time for dinner!" "I guess I have to go." said Stephanie. "Bye-Bye!" said Floppy. "I guess I have to look for the egg by myself." said Floppy. Floppy saw a house near by. She went to the house and knocked on the door. Someone opened it. She was a which! Floppy was scared. She ran untill she was almost out of breath. Suddenly, Floppy heard something crack. It was her egg! It was just in time for easter. Floppy delivered the eggs to everyone on the world. Floppy fixed the egg that broke, into a beautiful egg.

The End.

Must've Missed the Memo

It is fairly common for me to discover that I missed the hype on something, or caught the hype far too late. Most are specifically entertainment-related, but all seem to be equally shocking. Here are a few things that prompt the "what do you mean, you haven't..." incredulous look.

Disney Princess Movies
Oh, I've seen my fair share of these movies, but there are a few key movies I just haven't seen. It isn't because I had no desire to see them; I just never had or made the opportunity. I'm a 90s child who hasn't seen Beauty and the Beast, Sleeping Beauty, and Aladdin, among other Disney standards.

Harry Potter
I guess I'm part of the Harry Potter generation. I did read the first few books, but found them pretty frightening. Once, my parents read a few pages of The Prisoner of Azkaban and decided it wasn't a good choice for us (my sister and I) to be reading as preteens. I never finished the series, and by the time the movies started coming out, I had very little interest in them.

Lord of the Rings
This is one that I'm actually ashamed of. I haven't read any of the LOTR books, and while I've seen the first movie, I couldn't really follow because I wasn't watching intentionally. I feel like the series is something I would enjoy, so I fully intend to become acquainted.

Star Wars
Here's yet another entertainment-related craze I missed. I have had to look up "droids," "Jabba the Hut," "Jedi," and "the force" on Wikipedia. This is also one I'd be on board with getting to know.

Guacamole
Yeah, avocados weird me out. Mushed avocado just doesn't seem appetizing at all. Guacamole is served at every party I attend and I always skip it. I'm okay with that.

3-D Movies
Never seen one. I have this assumption that it will make me feel sick, and that it won't actually enhance the experience. Also I make approximately two trips to the movie theatre every year.

Horses
I know a lot of girls who really love horses. Like reeeeally love them. I missed that. I have ridden horses a number of times (I even got back up on a horse that ripped down a hill and through a patch of spruces leaving me scratched and bleeding). I missed the day in school when all the girls decided the horse was the best animal of all the animals.

Soccer
I really, really regret having missed soccer growing up. 80% of my friends played on soccer teams as kids, and they are all 100% more coordinated than I am. I have zero organized sports skills.

There, eight memos that never made it to my desk.

In so many words

I tend to get overwhelmed by long lists. This is somewhat ironic, given the fact that I operate pretty much entirely based on to-do lists. Sometimes, when faced with a long list, I won't even start on it; instead, staring at it as it lengthens slowly. The question: Where to begin?

I have a long list of movies to watch, so I haven't watched any. I have a long list of books to read, so I haven't read any. I have a long list of things I would like to do someday, so I haven't done any. I have a long list of people I'd love to become closer with, so I haven't become closer with any. Long lists overwhelm me.

Currently, I have a very long list of words in mind. I have so many words in mind that I won't say any. I can't pick one to turn into a stimulating discussion. I can't pick one to turn into a conversation opener with a stranger. I can't pick one to turn into a journal entry. I can't pick one to turn into a blog post. So I won't pick one.

Friends, the future, music, plans, heroes, school, reality, imagination, fantasy, Jesus, the church, hopes, dreams, relationships, crushes, appearances, conformity, ignorance, fears, jealousy, this world, these people, moving away, moving on, growing up, anger, frustration, admiration, really annoying people, humour, confusion, judgment, journalling, blogging, songwriting, camp ministry, youth ministry, street ministry, Shane Claiborne, television, North America, hipsters, memory, mistakes, contentment, money.

In my mind, these things float about, each demanding serious consideration, and none receiving it. There must be a better way!

It comes but once a year

Today is my 23^rd birthday. This year it fell on a Sunday, which is the day of the week I was really born on. It’s happened a few times, but I can only remember one other time.

I always felt a sort of pride in being a Sunday baby, like it made me more sophisticated or something. It actually makes me a bit of jerk, because I kept my parents away from church that Sunday morning, and I had the nerve to keep Mom up all night on Saturday. Anyway.

I don’t usually do anything for my birthday. On my 16^th I had to go to a basketball tournament, and since then I haven’t had a party or anything. It’s just a normal day, except normally in the evening my family will put candles in a DQ ice cream cake and sing. My friends got very excited for certain birthdays, but I didn’t immediately go out and get my license when I turned 16. I turned 19 in BC, which is the age of majority there, and I didn’t spend it in a club. I didn’t go to the States to gamble when I turned 21. The advent of Facebook made birthdays a little more exciting; keeping track of the number of friends who wish “happy birthday” can be a confidence booster. Personally, I like to keep track of who offers more than “happy birthday,” and even better, more than “happy birthday Sarah.”

My birthday is only two weeks after New Year’s, and I think that’s why New Year’s means so little to me. My new year starts on January 15, when I add another year to my age. Still I don’t make any resolutions or goals for the upcoming year. I’m just saying that January 15 has more newness, for me, than January 1.

This all has a fairly melancholy tone, and it’s because Birthday 23 has been a regular ol’ day, with ups (singing with a small choir this morning in church, the first snow in a very long time) and downs (panic about starting a new job tomorrow for which I am completely unprepared). Just normal.

And so I move into Age 23 feeling generally apathetic. Happy birthday to me!

Reso-what?

Tis the season for New Year's Resolutions. When it comes to these, I'd call myself a cynic.

Go to the gym three times a week this year? As if.
Read four books a month? Right.
Introduce myself to someone new everyday? Sure.
Cut back on wasting time online? Oh, okay.

I dislike them, I think, because I see failure as inevitable. Weeks will go by when the only physical activity I get is climbing the stairs to the kitchen. Months will go by when the only reading I do is to find out which actors are in the movie I'm watching. I'll go days without saying hello to anyone new, and I'll spend hours staring at a computer screen before I realize I haven't done anything productive. To resolve would be to set myself up for failure.

I also find it difficult to come up with good resolutions. General resolutions are too easy to justify: "My resolution was to spend less time on Facebook, and today I only spent two hours. That's less than three hours!" Specific resolutions are tough to live up to: "I wanted to write thirteen blog posts this month, but I've only done twelve. Guess I'll forget about that one."

I admire people who make resolutions for themselves. They acknowledge the risk of failure, but continue. They dream of bettering themselves, and find specific ways to do so.

I could come up with fail-proof resolutions.
I resolve to accidentally reveal that I am a pessimist. Check!