Haunted

I have stayed up half the night reading - something I haven't done in a very long time - and I can't sleep yet for fear that what I've read will manifest itself in my dreams. So I will write it down, even though the tears aren't yet dry on my cheeks, and hope that this keeps it from haunting me tonight.

This book was not easy to read and yet I couldn't force myself to put it down. I usually read before bed, but I found myself thinking about the story throughout the day. The story is "fictional," but is one of those stories that rocks you to the core because you know it is an echo of someone's reality - lived long ago, buried deep, but not forgotten. Never forgotten.

It was a novel that followed an 81 year old woman as she slowly - painfully - told her daughters the story of her survival through the Great Terror of the 1930s in Russia and World War II. Did you know that more than 1 million Russians died there? Murdered. 70% of them starved to death. The horrors of mothers placing their children on evacuation trains, not knowing that the trains were heading into the heart of the German invasion. The horrors of mothers watching their children waste away from lack of food and knowing there was nothing they could do to stop it. The horrors.

There are thousands of stories like the "fictional" one I just finished reading. My grandparents and great-grandparents had these stories, maybe not these exact stories, but versions of it from elsewhere in Europe during that awful time. I know they do because I have heard murmurs of the handicapped brother and son who was left behind all those years ago - a memory so locked away that I have heard mention of it only once and even then only after my grandparents had passed away. This history is also my history. That knowledge is heavy and so is the thankfulness that I was not the one who had to survive it; but the fact that someone DID survive it is why I am here today.

What an amazing, and terrible, terrible book. The kind that makes you keep turning the pages, that changes you, but that you never want to pick up again.

Officially Official

Ok first I need to tell you a story. I was babysitting the kids tonight and Morgan(18 months old) was giving the cat, George (affectionately known as Georgie), some "love" to which the cat was responding with swats of the paws. Morgan gets up to walk away and the cat reaches out, hooks his paws around her ankle and trips her. No lie. She picks herself up, turns around and goes, "Georgie! NO!" Darren and I laughed so hard. She was so affronted. The cat defs got the last laugh there. I wish I'd had a video camera.

So I am officially a BC resident. This week I got my BC Care Card (medical coverage) in the mail, got all of my banking finalized and FINALLY got my car insured. It has been an unbelievable process. You see, insurance in BC is uber expensive (because everyone drives like idiots), but you can get a 5% discount on it for each year you have been claims-free (up to 40%). You just have to be able to prove it to them. So I got a claims history letter from Manitoba, but because my car was insured under my dad's name for a few years, my letter only showed that I had 3.5 years of driving history. The result would be only a 15% discount and insurance premiums that were double what I paid in Manitoba. I wasn't ok with that. So, to make a long story short, I (and my dad...probably more my dad) did a bunch of calling around, eventually resorted to calling the MLA and we managed to get ICBC to agree to give me a full 40% discount if I provided a Driver's Abstract. So I FINALLY got that on Friday. The plates are on my car.

The relief is physical. I feel as though a weight has been lifted off me. I will randomly remember that everything is done and I get a little bubble of excitement in my tummy. It just feels so good to be finished the process. Hallelujah.

I also went and got a library card today. I was waiting for my driver's license to come so I could prove my local address. I am so excited to read again. I haven't really had time in the past 3 months and now I have access to a library and I have 4 books to read in the next 3 weeks. Hallelujah.

Living Life at a Very Fast Pace

Well, I keep thinking that life is going to slow down to a normal pace, but we're a ways away from that happening apparently. My sister's wedding is in T-minus 11 days, and then Ben comes to visit, so life may return to a manageable level on Nov 1.

I miss routine.

So I volunteered at work to be one of the First Aid Attendants. If I had known the amount of work it took to become such, I may not have volunteered so cheerily. I was in a full time course all of last week, with monstrous amounts of homework/study in the evenings. Last week felt like a month. There were times when I couldn't even remember what city I was in (that tells me I'm not exactly adjusted to life in new province yet) and I totally forgot I even had a job elsewhere. That's how much brain space the course took up.

BUT I rocked both of my exams (written and practical) and now I am officially qualified to save lives. Or at least KEEP people alive until MORE qualified people arrive.

It was the closest I'm going to get to living out my life-long dream of being a doctor and it was really fun:)

Ahem...*tap tap tap*...is this thing on?

Ok, so I know. It's been awhile. But for real guys, it's been helllllllllllla busy at work, plus I've moved, plus I have no internet at home, PLUS the internet at work sucks (not to mention the fact that I have no time to write a blog at work anyways).

But here I am. Stealing Starbuck's WiFi, which they fully advertise as being free for everyone, but it still feels just a little like I'm pirating the internet waves cuz I've been nursing this vanilla latte for, like, 3 hours now and I'm not giving Starbucks any more of my money, but I'm going to keep on using their so-called "free for everyone" internet waves.

I'm really tired.

But I'm alive. And I love my job. And even though US loans continues to drive me to drink, and I can't seem to win the-battle-to-get-the-desk-slash-office-setup-that-I-want, I still like going to work. All in all, this move has = victory!

For real, even though I love stealing Starbuck's "free" wireless waves, I gotta go to bed. My butt is falling asleep - this chair is really hard.

In Which I Bang My Head Against a Wall. Repeatedly.

I am considering taking up heavy drinking as an extra-curricular activity.

Guys, the US student loan system is taking all my brain cells. Just when I think I've got it semi-figured out, I spend 40 minutes on the phone with them (over my lunch break I might add. TWICE now.) only to find out that I know shit-all about this system.

I have never been so confused or defeated in all my life. That might not be totally true, but I DID almost cry today.

Fear Cancels Faith, Faith Counters Fear

It would seem that I have some fear issues to work through. I've found that over the past few weeks my anxiety has been much higher than normal. That's not entirely surprising, given the major changes happening, but I was a little surprised at how high my level of fear got a couple times and the reasons behind it.

While I was still in Manitoba, I suddenly became very anxious when driving my car. "What if I get in an accident right before I leave for BC?" It doesn't help that I had just put major money into fixing my car for the long drive and I didn't want yet another expense, but I was genuinely concerned that something might happen.

I was a wreck on the back of Ben's motorbike. I don't love motorbikes in the first place, but if I'm going to be on one, I want Ben to be the driver. I know he would never let anything happen to me. But by the time we got to my house that night, I was shaking and nearly in tears. I had been so afraid the whole time that I was literally "steering" him unconsciously (making his job of keeping the bike upright a whole lot harder).

I worried about my dad driving to Manitoba to help me move. What if something happened to him on the way? My guilt would be overwhelming because he had been coming to help me. Driving back I did alright through the prairies, but in the back of my mind, the trek through the mountains was looming.

I've done the trip from Alberta to BC dozens of times in my life. It's always made me a little nervous, but as a child, I just trusted my daddy behind the wheel and was fine. This was only the second time I've done the trip where I was one of the drivers and it filled me with intense anxiety. All I could envision was losing control of the vehicle and there being a fiery crash. I actually freaked out on the Coquihalla Highway and made my mom drive. My anxiety didn't even go down that much when she took over. I didn't calm down until we were safely home. And then I worried about my dad until he was safely home two days later.

I don't know why I would think that God would call me out to start a new life in BC and then kill me on the way there, but my brain just kept thinking "sometimes God doesn't make any sense." When I made the decision to move here I consciously chose to not let fear rule my life and prevent me from making the move. I knew that if I didn't take this opportunity because I was afraid of the unknown, I would never get anywhere. But fear has definitely taken hold in other ways.

I am frustrated that I trust God with certain areas of my life, but not others. I trust him to provide friends and joy here. But I don't trust him to keep my family safe. I have this screwed up idea that because I don't think I can handle losing a member of my family, he will make it happen just to prove to me that I can handle it. Where does that idea come from? I know it's flawed, but it's real, all the same.

I don't want to live ruled by fear. I want to trust the God who passionately loves me to provide for me and give me strength. He's proven himself so faithful to me and yet I doubt him. That makes me so sad.

Brilliance

Look at me blogging away consistently. I'm a machine (or, I have nothing better to do at work these days).

So a number of months ago, my dear friend Ben and I began teaching one another about our respective genders. We wrote long emails and explained things like High Maintenance Women (me) and Gearheads (him). These were invaluable, not to mention hilarious. In fact, I have just re-read some of them and I would venture so far as to say that they are brilliant. We should perhaps publish a book.

Anyways, below is one that I wrote to him about things to never say to your girlfriend. There is a story behind this. Ben and I went camping last summer with my roommate and her then-boyfriend. We were planning to go tubing down the river the next day and on our way out to the campground we stopped at a burger shop for supper. As we were waiting in line I said, "Ooo poutine!" And Ben goes "you can't eat poutine! you'll sink your side of the tube!" He still hasn't lived that one down. So I decided to write him "The Top 10 Things NEVER to Say to Your Girlfriend." Enjoy...

10. "You complete me." - It worked for Jerry McGuire. It won't, and I repeat WON'T, work for you. You are guaranteed an eye roll. Saying nice things is always a good idea, just don't use another guy's line. And don't make it cheesy. Cheesy kills the mood and fast.

9. "You don't really want kids, do you?" - For your information, I have a uterus and I intend to use it. If you aren't interested in having children, you can just move right along. A better question to ask would be "how many kids do you see yourself having?" Then she can answer zero if she doesn't intend to ever grow babies.

8. "I hope you brought money along, because I'm not paying for you" - we do not expect you to pay for us every time, but a line like this, where you outright refuse to ante up, brings you down big time in our books. A lethal mistake is not paying on the first date. Trust me. It's happened. He didn't get a second one (admittedly, there were other contributing factors, but it still sticks out in my mind).

7. "What did you do to your hair?" - This immediately implies that you do not like whatever we may have done differently. Never imply that. If we've tried something different, we're probably feeling a little self-conscious about it and we don't need you confirming that it doesn't look good. That's what our girlfriends are for.

6. "Is that what you're planning to wear?" - Yes it is. Do you have a problem with that?

5. "Do you want to call my mom for that recipe?" - Ohhhhh boy. Shut up and eat what I made you.

4. "You didn't tell me you had a hot sister." - Sorry that must have slipped my mind while I was busy worrying about whether or not you find ME hot.

3. "Are you sure you should be eating that?" - Yes I'm sure I should be eating this. Even if I've told you I've given it up.

2. Accidently call me by your ex-girlfriend's name - do I really need to explain this? This is one slip-up you should avoid at all costs. Because I won't forget for a long, LONG time.

1. "Is it that time of the month?" - Even if it is, perhaps ESPECIALLY if it is, you do not want to know what is coming to you. PMS certainly may contribute to how we act once in awhile, but unless I offer that information to you as a sort of explanation for my irrationality, you should not inquire about it. Trust me, you REALLY don't want to know about that whole business. Plus, by asking about it, you've probably just made me cry. Ass.

Perspective

There's nothing like a farewell event in your honour to make you feel appreciated. I had my "mugging" today at work - given its strange name for the practice of giving the departing employee a pottery mug that bears their name, as well as the institutional logo.

I have often felt inadequate in this job. It quickly became apparent to me when I began that this job required an awful lot of extroversion. Turns out, I'm predominantly introverted. My administrative gifts were definitely well-used here and I quickly found my niche in the disability service area and took a lot of pride in what I was able to drive here. But there was always that nagging sense that I wasn't doing a very good job in the biggest part of my job, the commuter program.

Standing in a room today and having the Dean of Social Sciences stand up to thank me, on behalf of the faculty, for my work with students with disabilities was pretty remarkable. So also was the heartfelt thanks of our Vice President of Finance for my work with the student employment program. He's a tough cookie who questions everything and intimidated the hell out of me for the past 2 years, so to hear him say "I had such confidence in giving you responsibility for this program because I knew you got it and you were taking the program in the direction it needed to go" was....I don't even know the word for it. I was humbled and grateful.

It puts into perspective for me that I was very capable in this position, and maybe I even excelled at it. Not everything fit my strengths very well, but the areas that I invested it, I invested in passionately. My strengths outweighed my weaknesses.

I am so grateful for the opportunity to grow over the past 2 years. I know so much more about myself, my strengths and weaknesses, and I can say that I have loved working here.

Swing Low

It's starting to sink in. I'm really leaving. And soon.

I went camping with my friends over the weekend. I was sitting beside a very dear friend, both of us reading our own books, when I was suddenly overcome with a sense of "gosh, I'm going to miss her." So we had a little cry.

It's also really tough when I start getting glimpses of how deeply this is affecting some people really close to me. Especially when it's a boy. Rip my heart out.

Tonight is my goodbye party (I like to think of it as a "See ya later" party). Honestly, I'm dreading it. It will be wonderful to have all of my dearest friends in one place, but kind of a crappy reason for them all to be there. I know that tonight will invoke feelings of "what the hell am I doing? why am I leaving these amazing people?" I dread that. I know that this was the right decision and that God is clearly leading me down this path, but it's so damn hard to say goodbye.

Passing the Time

I'm finding it hard to be patient. I remember feeling like this when my parents and I were moving to Manitoba from Alberta - "ok, we've made the decision, let's just go already." I don't like prolonging the goodbye. It's not that I'm eager to leave my friends here, but I am eager to start my new life. Also, I hate living among boxes and that is currently the state of my bedroom - stacks of boxes.

I've got a little under 3 weeks to go before the move. I'm trying hard to enjoy every last moment I have here and I am honestly cherishing every last memory I am making. But I'm getting tired of being asked, "so how are you feeling?" I'm feeling impatient, people. My standard answer of "well, I'm excited about the opportunities out there, but of course I'm sad to be leaving my life here" is getting old, even to my ears. It's still true, I am "sad" to be leaving my life here, but I'm not feeling sad at the moment. I know I will later when I'm hugging my friends goodbye and in a month when I can't just drive to their house to hang out, but right now, I'm just plain impatient.

Change is Inevitable (except from a vending machine)

Big changes are adrift, people. I'm moving. I am moving. I am moving. I, the one who loathes change, have set in motion a giganto-normous change in my life. I am le-scared, if you will.

The past 6 or 8 months have been hard being so far away from my family. My parents moved to BC about a year and a half ago and that's also where my brother and his family are. My sister is in Alberta and I have zero family here in Manitoba. That's hard, especially when you value family like I do. I began to realize that I would never get to know my neices and nephew and play a real role in their lives if I didn't live closer. I also realized that life is short and you never know how much time you'll have left with the people you love.

So, I took a deep breath and started keeping an eye out for jobs. I wasn't overly hopeful that I would find anything - the job market in BC is not great right now - but I wanted to keep an eye out at the Christian institutions there, just in case. I was on Facebook one day and I noticed that a woman who worked at my former Bible school was pregnant with twins and it flashed into my mind that her job would be coming open, even if it was just for a mat leave. I started praying then and there - I knew her job (Financial Aid Officer) would be a perfect fit for me and I wanted it.

Fast forward 3 ish months: after much waiting and uncertainty (along with emotional ups and downs as I tried to fathom actually leaving my life in Winnipeg), I accepted the job and solidified the decision to move west.

It feels like a gigantic leap of faith. It was literally the hardest decision I've made since choosing to break up with Justin. Both were equally hard decisions (although it remains to be seen if the road after is as hard...I don't think it will be...hopefully). There wasn't necessarily a "win-win" option in this case. On the one hand I would get to be closer to my family and I would get to be in BC, which I love. On the other hand, I would get to keep my friends, who are so dear to me and such a blessing in my life, and stay involved in a church that has nurtured me. It seemed like an impossible decision for a long time. No matter what road I chose, it was going to be hard.

But God really put this job in my lap. They weren't interviewing anyone else but me. It was clear about 10 minutes into the interview that they were planning on offering me the job. It appeared that it was mine to lose. And God gave me peace.

So now I am faced with packing up my life here (which I haven't been able to bring myself to actually start) and saying goodbye. I am filled with excitement and fear and it depends on what day you catch me on as to which wins out. I am not afraid of the job because it is so perfect for my strengths. I am not afraid of having no one because my family is there. But I am afraid of having to start over in building friendships. I am afraid of having to find another church and working to make it home.

I don't know what life there will look like, but I do know this:

"Trust" is not knowing the outcome but believing that, because God is sovereign, the outcome will be inherently good.

Facelift

I think I change my blog's background more often than I actually write on it. That's...interesting. But this latest one is really pretty! I think I'll keep it for awhile. Although I liked the last one, it was a little bit loud for me. I'm not loud.

It's pouring outside right now. We just might float away. I may need my paddle to get home. Oh wait...I don't have one because I am terrified of canoes.

Stories from my Childhood III

I'm going to guess that I was around 10 or 11 when this one happened.

We came home from church one Sunday morning and as we climbed out of the van my dad asked if someone could go to the barn to get WD40, which he needed for the toaster (WTH do you use WD40 on a toaster for? it should have been our first clue). My sister and I refused because we were wearing dresses, so my brother grudgingly went. A minute later he came running out of the barn screaming (like a little girl, might I add) that there was a dirtbike in the barn. We all ran in, my parents grinning at our delight, and sure enough, there, in the middle of the barn, was a gorgeous, red Kawasaki 80. It was the best dirtbike we'd ever seen and we spent hours ripping around on it.

After that I would come home from church ever Sunday and hope that my dad would send me to the barn for something and I would find my dream horse waiting for me inside.

That never happened.

Moral of the story, kids? Don't sit around waiting for your parents to buy you a horse.

(But still enjoy the dirtbike they got you instead)

Stories from my Childhood II

Again, I have no idea how old I was when this happened, nor do I remember how this happened. I was definitely old enough and smart enough to know better. Alas, I am the youngest and was at the mercy of an older brother and sister. Sadistic buggers, they were.

They managed to get me outside without any clothes on and then locked me out.

Yeah.

Stories From My Childhood I

We were driving through the mountains on our way to BC, probably for Christmas or something; I don't entirely remember. These were in the days of our old Ford mini van, the one whose bench seats folded backwards and formed a bed, except there was one end that was shorter than the rest of the bed because the one bench wasn't as long as the back one. I always got that short end because I'm the youngest (even though I've always been the tallest), but that's beside the point.

I don't know exactly how old I was at the time, my best guess is around 7 or 8, but then again, who knows.

Suddenly there was a loud pop! and my parent's looked at each other with concern. My dad looked in the rearview mirror at us kids and said, "I think I just popped a tire! Did you kids hear that?"

We all agreed that we had heard it, our heartrates increasing because things were about to get interesting on a long and normally boring drive.

Mom piped in, "I think the van is lop-sided! Do you feel it? I really think it is on the passenger side!"

I remember starting to feel scared, because there are cliffs when you are driving through the mountains and this was during my "I'm terrified of driving to BC because I am certain we are going to plummet off the side of the mountain" phase. I didn't totally know what a blown tire meant, but I could pretty much assume that it probably wasn't a good thing and certainly not on the side of a mountain.

"I definitely think the the van is lopsided, guys! I can totally feel it on my side!" This was me, starting to get a little hysterical.

That's when Mom, shaking with laughter, held up the paper bag she had popped minutes earlier to simulate the sound of a blown tire. I never knew my parents as pranksters until that moment.

MDS Top 10

Last week I took a group of students to Dulzura, CA to work with Mennonite Disaster Service. Wild fires in 2007 destroyed 311 homes and MDS has been working at rebuilding just a handful (but a very important handful) of them. While it's exhausting to always be the one in charge, it was a great trip. We did a lot of good work and had lots of laughs. Here are my top 10 favourite moments from this year's trip:

1. The first thing I saw when I stepped off the plane in San Diego was a woman who had been botox-ed to high heaven. I barely contained my audible gasp and thought to myself, "Welcome to California!"

2. I fell a little bit in love with an Old Order Mennonite man named Merlyn. Like, not seriously in love, but just a little bit.

3. Enterprise screwed up our reservation (not my favourite moment) and we ended up having two vehicles for the first day, a 12-passenger van and a small car. My buddy Dave and I ended up driving the car out to Dulzura. We had a hot date in the red HHR. (Not really, but that's what we say).

4. On Tuesday night we drove to the Mexican border (10 miles away) and walked across into a town called Tecate. We had a blast wandering around this little town, trying to overcome the language barrier and we ate the best Mexican food I've ever had.

5. Our server at the Mexican restaurant was precious and I wanted to take her home with me in my pocket.

6. I got to use power tools. Lots and lots of power tools.

7. I got to drive a Bobcat. Pretty much the coolest I've ever been.

8. I got to hold a baby goat and he was precious.

9. I got to spend some quality time getting to know my cousin's girlfriend and I love her. I know they're young and relatively new in this relationship, but selfishly I hope she becomes part of our family.

10. Every evening we gave reports about what went on during the day and during his report on lying under the house installing insulation all day, one of the students said, "That's the most fun I've ever had on my back." We all lost it and I was wiping tears for a solid 20 minutes. Best moment of the trip.

Dream Weaver

My dreams are wacked.

Last night I dreamt that my sister got engaged (while not imminent, this is not out of the realm of possibility). But then I dreamt that I (and a furry little friend that looked suspiciously like Sid the Sloth) were at war with an elephant and a monkey in my old house in Coaldale.

WTF?

Blonde Moment of the Day

I had a brilliant idea today to prank my co-worker, Ron. He's an Oilers fan. I'm a Flames fan. I was about to throw away my 2009 Flames calendar when I decided that a better use for it would be to plaster it all over Ron's office! And so I did.

Unfortunately, I also left behind my tape dispenser that has "Dana" written across it.

Yes, yes, I'm a rock star.