{ breathing. }

flowers on my parents' porch
I've been wanting to share this photo with you all for some time now. I took it last week while I was at my parents' house. Even with all the cold spurts we've been having (even frost, twice!), look at how gorgeous these flowers are! If they are not the image of fall's perfection, I don't know what is. I am also in love with the color combinations in this scene ... the orange of the flowers, the dull red of the bricks, the fresh teal of the porch planks ... and it's even nicer in real life, believe me!

And now I'm sure you're also wondering what ever happened with the school board and the interview and all that jazz. Well, I can now say: all's well that ends well. After I wrote my post last night, I stayed up, teeth clenched and back wrenched from tension and horror. I had innumerable things to worry about from the time I got the message last night till the time I could talk to the school board lady this morning at 9:10 am.

When I finally talked to her, all the pent up anxiety came pouring out of me in a huge sigh. She would love to meet with me Monday morning at 10:00. That meant that I could keep my 8 hour shift today (which will really help with our health care bill!), keep my traveling plans for this extended weekend, and have more time to mentally prepare for meeting with my potential employer.

I felt like layers and layers of worry had been peeled off of me. You know when sometimes you make a recipe and you have to mix the ingredients and then let it sit and just give it time to "breathe"? That's what I felt like I was doing all day at work. I was neither present nor absent, I was just breathing, unwinding in my own little way as I hummed and dreamt and frothed my cappucinos. Also, I shared the exciting news with one of my best friends in the world, Eliza, the 63 year old Filipino lady whom I love with all my heart. She was so excited for me! We winked at one another all day across the garbage cans, and it warmed my heart so much.

And now, with that eight hour shift behind me, I am throwing all my heart and soul into this trip! I want to squeeze every ounce of enjoyment out of it that I possibly can. I get to pack the new bag that I got for my birthday, which is exciting in and of itself. I'll get to include the new black sweater and cute shoes that I got with my gift certificate last week.

Apart from packing, I'll get to sit back with a massive bowl of popcorn and a nice cold Coke as I eagerly await episode two of Lost. I can't wait. But, wait I must (for two more hours), and while I wait, I'll tidy the kitchen sink and the bathroom that I use so that when I get home Saturday night, all the sparkle will still be waiting for me (at least that's what I hope!!).

See you when I'm back!

{ no time to blink, no time to think }

I got home late from work tonight to a blinking message on my answering machine which, when played back to me, informed me that the public school board wants to set up an interview with me, ASAP. That could mean tomorrow, or Thursday, or Friday, or ... who knows? I've been having like, a hernia all night trying to speculate on all the possible outcomes. I have an eight hour shift at the hospital tomorrow, so I called to give my boss a heads-up notice that I might need to cancel it tomorrow morning. I called my mom to let her know that they might have to count me out of this trip. I've been piecing together my "portfolio" which was, up until tonight, a pile of clutter on (and in) my filing cabinet. It's looking professional now (although I'm still not quite sure what else to PUT in it!). I'm planning out hypothetical phone calls for tomorrow morning, and I'm scripting out what I'll say for every scenerio. Beyond that, I'm wondering what my interview might be like. I'm also wondering if I'm being considered for a full time teacher, or only a sub. I hate being in the dark about these things; I can't stand having things this out of my control!!

Tomorrow I'll wake up early, prepare myself mentally for "the phone call". I'll start calling at 8 and hope she's in her office to pick up. If not, I'll just keep on trying, all the while trying to avoid looking desperate. And oh, of course I'll have to straighten my hair and pick out my outfit, so that I can be ready in a snap.

I don't know what I'm feeling more of right now, dread or excitement. I'm overcome by an emotion that keeps changing from terror to zeal, from insecurity to confidence back to insecurity.

Like Grace and I are talking about right now, there is only one thing left to do: put all this stress and anxiety in God's hands, as cliche as it sounds. I was going to urge you all to cross your fingers for me, but instead, why not join with me in believing that all things will work out for good, no matter what the outcome.

{ Thanksgiving trip: one week early }

colorful branch from my walk on campus
Everything seems in its full autumn glory these days. Initially I had hoped all the splendor would last until Thanksgiving (Canadian Thanksgiving, October 8), so initially I had booked off the whole Thanksgiving weekend so that possibly Derek and I would be able to take a short, whirlwind vacation. Now, with all the penny-pinching, Derek's homework and class schedule, and the chance of snow by that time, my hopes for a Thanksgiving vacation seem to be snuffed out.

However, all is not lost! Last week my mom called me and informed me of her plans to travel within the province with my sister, who is desperate to see a concert by a band she likes. Since my mom definitely will not be joining Amy at the concert, she wondered if I wouldn't like to tag along to keep her company (and to enjoy all the good shopping, eating, swimming, and movie-watching that we will enjoy, otherwise). How could I pass this up! We have had only one other "girls only" getaway, and that was just before I was married. My mother had been looking for the dreaded "mother of the bride" dress (this process was quite literally torture for her), and we could not find anything appropriate at home; really, we had scoured every dress shop in the city! So, we three girls packed our bags and headed four hours south to our even larger southern neighbor city. We enjoyed a busy weekend of shopping with our "mother of the bride" mission firmly in mind. We had never seen so many swishy, lacy, and frumpy dresses in our lives. Finally, however, my mom did stumble upon a cute little feminine suit ensemble, and we urged her to snatch it up. Of course, once we were home, she had innumerable second thoughts, but she did end up wearing it to the wedding, and got many compliments on it (even though she still can't look at herself in pictures).

At any rate, that weekend was fun in itself, despite the stresses of the wedding looming over all our heads. I can't even imagine how much fun this three day adventure will be when we're free as birds, doing what we wish, whenever we wish. We're staying in my absolute favorite hotel, and my mom and I are already fantasizing about sitting in the hot tub every night before bed.

Right now I'm in the process of clearing the memory on my digital camera. I want to be prepared for all the possible snapshots I may encounter. I've also never visited this city in the fall, only ever in the summer. It is a foothills city, with lots of trees, river valleys, and natural ravines left in it, so I am eager and excited for the foliage, of all things! My only fear? Snow was forecasted for today; let's hope it flees for us come Thursday morning, ten A.M. And if not? Well, I've never seen that city in the snow, either, so it will be an exotic experience either way.

{ Ecclesiastes 7:9 }

"Do not be quickly provoked in your spirit,
for anger resides in the lap of fools."

{ the poem of tonight }

i joined in with autumn tonight;
my crisp new blazer matched
crisp new fall weather.

we dined with fabulous friends tonight;
oodles of noodles slid down our slick throats
past waggling tongues and wide smiles.

my shining past shone into this night;
simon and garfunkel sung us home
and reminded me of grey beginnings.

{ our a-maze-ing night }

sunset at the corn maze, as seen from the bridge
Last night we took the youth group to the local corn maze, just twenty minutes out of town. Thirty two young people showed up, many of whom had never been to a corn maze before. This was my third time going, and I loved it just as much as I always do.

We purposely went in the evening, so that we would be able to spent half our time in the daylight, and half our time in the darkness, with nothing but flashlights and friends' screaming to guide us. The night was a mixture of frenzied and laughter-filled running, calm walking, and turn-taking for being the leader. My sister and I amused ourselves by plucking long corn leaves and sneakily tickling the ears of the young girls in front of us. A shrill scream resulted every time. Our young high school friend, the only young boy touring with our group of seven, entertained himself by trying to trip all of us along the narrow pathways. He got me several times. After a while, he had to take his mischief to the next level: he started throwing ears of corn as far as he could.

"No! Don't!" I urged him, trying to hide my laughter. It was a little funny; however, I could remember being decked by flying corn several times last year. Believe me, it hurts!! He agreed to stop, but we still laughed about it later.

There is a certain sensual experience that can only come from being in a corn maze after dark on a Friday night, when all the youth groups and families come out in droves. There is a dusty, earthy, fresh smell that surrounds you and carries you as you waft with it along the pathways. It even penetrates your hair and oozes out to greet you once again the next time you shower at home. I love that smell. There is the feel of the drying leaves and sturdy ears of the corn plant as you grab handfuls of it while walking along.

The most memorable sensory experience of the corn maze, in my opinion, must be the sound of it. After dark, young boys and girls can become the real wild men and women that they are. When you close your eyes or peer into the darkness without a flashlight, the thing that most floods your senses is the sound of feet clomping along, children giving whoops and screams and warcries, friends calling for friends, and people laughing with one another. I remembered the first time I went, I closed my eyes, just to stop and listen to all that was happening around me. I remember exactly what it sounded like. Remember in the movie Titanic with Leonardo DiCaprio and Kate Winslet, when the boat has gone under at the end and all the survivors are floating around in the water on debris? Remember the sound of all the people crying, shouting, screaming, and splashing? Well, when you close your eyes on a Friday night in the dark of a corn maze, you experience the exact same sound. I pointed this out to all my counterparts yesterday, and, of course, they all had to close their eyes to experience it themselves. Sure enough, each one of them, one by one, closed their eyes for a split second before a huge smile of recognition crossed their faces. Their eyes flew open as they shouted incredulously: "You're right! That's exactly what it sounds like!"

At the end of the night even Amy, Derek and I turned into children once again as we pushed each other into the corn. The stalks were so thick that we could never get one another to hit the muddy earth; the corn plants always bounced us right back on our feet. Once or twice we let a whoop or holler escape our throats. Another time, Amy tried to spook some unfamiliar young boys who were hot on our heels. I'm not sure who had more fun out of everyone from our group, the kids, or us, the older "kids".

I can't wait to relive it all again next fall. It has become a new tradition for us. Perhaps next August I will even look up some more corn mazes around the province, and we can tour there, just to see them. I know it would be well worth it.

{ mind the rabbits }

Tonight while driving home from my parents' house, we were sure to keep a close eye on the shadowy bits beside the road since there are always so many rabbits around. I spotted some movement up ahead out of the corner of my eye.

"Be careful of the rabbits, hon," I said to Derek, "There's a whole herd up ahead."
"It's not called a herd," he stated matter-of-factly.
"What, then? A flock?"
"No."
"A company of rabbits?"
"No."
"Then what?"
"A stew. A stew of rabbits."

We both laughed.

{ as life settles }

I have an overall feeling of reviving and reordering these days. Yesterday I had a nice fall shopping spree with my mom. I came home to clear out numerous old items from my closet (mainly all the pants that my widening waistline has outgrown. boo hoo!). I had a blank slate of a closet to start over with. Poor Derek even got his full side of the closet back as I resigned myself to stay on my own side. Summery things were grouped by color and sleeve length, seasonal sweaters were folded within reach. Empty hangers were weeded out and repositioned at the ends of the closet. Old clothes went through the washer, the dryer, and the ironing process, then onto old metal hangers for their adventure this morning. My mom picked me and my dozens of clothes up, and off we went to the consignment store. I've never consigned anything before, but it was a nice feeling to walk in there and know that some of my gorgeous jeans would have a lovely new home (and that I might recover some more change for my new pockets!)

Today I got all dolled up in some of my new duds. Good thing for me, since I saw someone important in my life, someone whom I haven't seen for 12 years.

Today the sun is finally shining and I was able to snap some gorgeous photos of my mom's orange porch flowers. Perhaps I will share them with you later, when I have some time to play with Photoshop.

I'll be cooking dinner tonight, and Derek and I will eat a real meal together for the first time in over a week. It feels like life is resettling into place. That's the one nice feeling that never fails to come before the winter: a settling in. But before I settle completely, I want to take some more time to go outside and be a bit of a madman. Maybe I can haul out my dusty bike, and take a leaf-collecting adventure tomorrow after work. I'll cross my fingers for more sunshine.

{ why not smile? }

After tonight, I needed a laugh. So, I revisited my text document where I've been storing up the search strings that have led people to my site over the past few months.

Here are some of my favorites. Remember, these are the word for word search strings that led people to this blog (I'm not always sure how):

- Braces Caught
- spankin
- more at one's
- this is the actual answering machine message for the school
- getting rid of wasps in my walls
- meh meh my pellow
- starbucks barista with scoliosis
- ukranian kids playing outdoors

I'm always surprised what turns up on my Sitemeter stats ... you just never know ...

{ it's been a hard day's night }

These past few days have been tough. Layers of sadness have been building up like old grime that I haven't had time enough to remove. Two nights ago, my aunt passed away after a long struggle with cancer. I found out the next morning, then had to go to work for eight hours. Today, another eight hours of work, then home to visit with my family only to find out that a family friend was hit, this morning, by a drunk driver and is now suffering from critical and life-threatening head injuries. We were all trying to process that information when my uncle, my dad's brother, called to tell us that today he was diagnosed with cancer. Tomorrow it's back to work for me for another full shift and then a night of church, wake up at 6:30 on Saturday morning, work till noon, then attend my aunt's funeral.

When do I stop to breathe?

Amidst this burden of pensively turned-over grief, however, I have had simple and unexpected swells of joy: someone confided in me; she must have found a friend in me. The grumpy old lady at work stuck up for me. An old man told me my smile brightened his sad day. I made two toddlers' eyes light up with nothing but an ice cream cone. My puppy gave me kisses. I found new comfort in an old song. People are proud of me and I am proud of myself.

These days I hurt because I love. Sometimes I think it must be easier to go through life being a heartless person who deals with budgets and numbers and things, not people. Sometimes I wish I didn't feel so much. But then, when I come back to it all in my heart, I realize I couldn't trade love for anything else in the world, not money, not success, not status or glory or accomplishment. I have to say frankly that these past few months have been some of the best months of my life, even though I've not yet done what I went to school to do; I've been working in hospital food services with people from all walks of life. The only thing I've done regarding my actual career is cried with confusion and stress--just two nights ago my whole eye turned into a giant hive and stayed that way for a whole day, swollen half shut. Stress did that to me. But I realize that it all began to happen to me once I started mentally fussing over what my career would be, and should I be a teacher, and what do I want with my life, and what will people think of me if I give up on my career now, when I am so close to it. These thoughts plagued me with such intensity that in little more than two minutes, my entire eye puffed up. It was a huge wakeup call for me.

I am happy right now, even in the sad circumstances surrounding me. Today I scooped ice cream, served pizza, and made cappuccinos and in the silence when there were no customers, I realized something: I was singing. Either out loud or only internally, I had been singing scores of songs the entire day. I realized I was happy with a deep sort of joy--many of the songs I was singing, when I quieted myself to listen to them, were hymns and love songs to God. Through what looked like a completely unglorifed position, I was praising God from somewhere deep within me. Why would I give that up?

I realize now that whatever I do with my life, I don't want to give up living to do it. I don't want anything to do with something that converts me from being who I truly am to being more and more like someone I don't want to be. I am sure that teaching will have some place in my future--near or distant, I am not sure. Nor am I sure what form it may take. These days I have been having visions of doing something unconventional with my teaching abilities, something that seems truer to myself than perhaps anything else. And yet, I realize that sometimes good things are worth building up to, and sometimes you have to work hard to get where you want to be in life. All I know is that I don't want to let anyone or anything steal my sunny disposition. I want to continue to let my hurts be authentic and stem only from the worthiest thing there is--love. I don't want to let anything less steal the joy that is infused into my life.

The bright spot I have been able to find in the end of a beautiful life is this: I want to spend my life endeavoring to make the lives of others so much more beautiful while they are still here to enjoy them. I am willing to humble myself to whatever means are necessary in order to do that. If I have to go against societal norms to do it, I have decided I will do it. As for where this may lead me, I am fully convinced that, truly, God only knows.

{ i'm a dreamer }

I just woke up late this morning--at 11:45--after staying as long in my dream world as I could. I've always had vivid dreams, throughout my entire life, and my family was often subjected to the replaying of them at the breakfast table. Last night was one of my most vivid nights in a while; I had a series of 6 or 7 dreams, and all the sensory experiences buried in them were as clear as life itself. I walked down my chidhood street, viewing perfectly all the houses and how they'd changed (some had been replaced by apartment complexes). I noticed the green house on the end had finally pulled the dandelion weeds and replaced their wood siding with vinyl. My dream morphed into a new one when I entered this house and revisited some of my middle school friends and learned how their lives have changed (for the worse) since I'd known them. When I left their house, I was on my way to a new adventure, to meet up with my family in some sort of bus depot or train station. I ended up having to wait, alone, with my sister while everyone else went to get something, and we had an amazing talk.

I was woken up by the early morning call of nature, and when I lied back to continue that dream, it changed into a new one: I was with people from church inside some room that replicated nature. Everything was amazingly precise and perfect. Though we were enclosed, the light shone down like sunbeams. Grass grew and artificial fallen leaves smattered the lawn. The room was filled with small berry shrubs, and we all went around with buckets, picking and talking and laughing. The blackberries were a little dusty but they were juicy and each fruity bead was filled with the perfect blackberry taste. There were also raspberries, and choke cherries and blueberries. We just continued to pick and laugh and marvel at the amazing perfection of this nature-replicating room.

My final dream was one in which I was having my final interview for getting hired. I went back to the classroom where I student taught and just spoke frankly to all the children about certain books I loved, and about why I wanted to be a teacher. The students would then evaluate me, and my former mentor teacher would make the cut. Just before I woke up for the last time, I was sitting at the teacher's desk, reading over some of the forms the students had turned in. A couple were honest: "She looks too young to be a real teacher." "She didn't have a strong enough personality to control a bad class." Most of the rest of them, however, were honest and kind. One girl, a returning student whom I'd taught last year wrote: "Having her as a teacher last year changed my life. I love reading now, and I know I am a good writer." When I read this one, I started crying. Then, the classroom phone started to ring. Even though the real teacher was sitting right beside it, she couldn't answer it. It kept ringing. Two rings, three rings, four rings. She looked at me to let me know it wasn't really her phone.

This happens to me often in dreams. Some lightbulbs went off in my subconscious mind and urged me back to reality. I, half asleep, hopped out of bed and ran into the living room, my eyes hardly opened, looking for the phone in our house. There it was. It was Derek, calling from his cell phone, to talk. He heard my groggy voice and immediately knew I was still totally out of it. He laughed and kept the conversation brief. I lied back down in bed once I had hung up, recollecting the final moments of my dream. I remembered reading the students' evaluations, and the one in particular that had made me cry. Back in the present and the real, I touched my cheeks, and felt they were wet.

Isn't that strange how something that is not real can be so vivid that it makes you actually cry? It happens to me all the time, and I'm always amazed by it. It kind of makes me wonder about that old statement: "If you die in your dream, you die in real life."

Anybody have another take on this?

{ saturday's words }

[for a friend i never knew]

the other day, i made coffee,
having no previous experience
    with making it.

in the quiet of the unwaking,
unsleeping night's mourning,
my found recipe for the
    measured out, dripped
    grounds and water
was the memory of your gentle,
steady, dependable hands, reaching out
in their fluid motions of
    click scoop swish snap click
(the inital motions of creation, followed by the
wait.)

i now, lately, realize, i could follow you--
awake, asleep--replaying nothing but nuances
that never lived past the shadows.

i made coffee that day for us to share.

but you couldn't drink it, so neither could i.

{ simple pleasures }

I very much enjoyed the peek at Amy's post on simple pleasures, so I will make a list of my own, gathered from last night and this morning:

* baking banana bread for my friends' housewarming party

* having a refreshing talk with Christa about writing

* seeing a young boy's pain swapped out in favor of laughing with friends

* learning a few new phrases in Korean ("Do you want some cake?"; "I like your haircut")

* staying up late to make a handmade card for Derek's 25th birthday today

* waking Derek twice on his birthday today--once just shortly after midnight for an on-the-dot birthday kiss, and once this morning, with my secret, surprise gift (I got him an mp3 player to help him with his studying this semester)

* seeing Derek's face mixed with surprise and shock and ecstasy and glee at the fact that I gave in and bought him something electronic for his birthday

* enjoying my first day of having cable TV back over a year; watching the food network for several hours on end

* munching, at my leisure, double toasted mixed grain bread smeared with peanut butter with sliced Chinese apple-pears on the side

* cleaning the house at my own pace, one counter wipe at a time

* planning to home brew coffee for the first time in years, literally

* anticipating tonight's dinner out with my whole family, in Derek's honor!

What would life be without its simple pleasures? Follow my lead and list your simple pleasures--let me know about them if you do!

{ there's a first for everything }

Today is the day when all University students head back to class. This year I'm not heading there with them. This is the first time in eighteen years that I have been officially out of school.

It's strange and overwhelming. I thought I would be ecstatic and rubbing it in my friends' faces, but instead I'm feeling a little glum. And a little jealous, even! I realize now that I could totally be one of the professional student types (if I was rich, that is). Anyways, the break will do me good, and I really do think that one day I'll go back, to pick up something else to have under my belt. Until then, I'll revel in my examless status!

{ baby steps }

I've thought of a new direction, and I've started actually walking that way. Step by step, I'm keeping my eyes up and my head clear and I am walking towards my goal. For now my steps are small, but sooner or later they'll help me end up where I want to be.

Since it's so far off, the place where I want to be is still hazy, but at least I'm moving forward. I'll let you know where I end up once I completely figure it out myself.

And oh, an afterthought--I won that creative writing scholarship that I applied for in July. That's what's got me thinking so hard lately ... and I'm sure the $500 cheque will have me thinking even more, once it comes in the mail ...

{ when recycling meets pampering }

When Derek got home from Panama, he bought me this gorgeous bouquet of roses to make up for all the time he'd been away. They immediately went in the vase that I got for our 2 year anniversary present. I watered and fed them sugar crystals and they continued to bloom for days, bringing such a nice splash of vibrant color into our ever-hectic and messy kitchen. I smelled them every morning and monitored their progress, taking pictures of my favorite blooms. A few days later I could sense they were on the verge of dropping their petals and beginning to wither. I had been keeping my mom updated on their beautiful status each day, too, and on that day, so close to their fated end, she had an idea for me. "Why don't you cut them down a day early and use the petals to indulge?" I knew what she had in mind.

That night, at one o'clock in the morning (my internal night owl was on the prowl), I delicately snipped off all the delicious heads of these roses. Then, one by one, I plucked them clean of all their petals, ziploc-bagging the muliticolored petals as I went. When one bag was full, I zipped it up, put it in the fridge in the crisper drawer, and set to work on filling another. From one dozen roses, I got two bulging ziploc bags like this:

But then, what was I going to do with these bags of petals? Well, that night, I gave the idea its first test run: I drew a bath full of the most perfect warm water. Before I got in, I took half the bag of petals in my hand and scattered them over the water's surface. I lit some vanilla candles, snapped a photo for good measure, then turned off the vanity lights and soaked in my luxurious vanilla-rose petal bath. It was divine.


I've had two such baths so far, and I have two more waiting in the crisper for whenever the urge hits me again. Why not try the same thing next time you have fresh flowers in the house?

{ the satisfaction of hard work sets in }

I spent my Labor Day laboring; I worked a six and a half hour shift at work and then helped three friends move into their new apartment. All day at work, the thought of helping my friends move kept me going all day (I know--I'm crazy). After work we met up with Grace, Brian, and Stephen, where they were having couch problems: their couch would not fit into their new apartment via the conventional doorway and staircase routes. Thus, there entered my crazy husband, who had carted huge ropes and cables and bands from his work site. He attached the couch and loveseat to a series of knots and loops, and a couple of guys used all their strength to hoist the furniture up to the third floor! I thought I would definitely be the witness to some grisly accident, but all turned out well in the end (thank goodness!)

Then I had the amazingly enjoyable task of moving my friends in! Since they were otherwise occupied/detained/exhausted, I started unpacking their stuff for them, packing away food, washing dishes, positioning couches, rebuilding desks. I have always loved a good move; I love the feeling of starting over, of rebuilding, of organizing. I decided that I could positively be happy being a professional organizer--you know, I could be one of those people on TLC who go around organizing peoples' houses and wiping out pack rats' wall-to-wall collections of who knows what. It is such an exhilarating feeling, really, to start with a room full of clutter and, in a matter of a few hours, to have established a tidy and orderly refuge.

I can do it with other peoples' houses--now, why can't I do it with my own office? Haha! Maybe tomorrow, before I head to my evening work shift, I will tackle my own organizational problems ... Goody!

{ on loving others }