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Showing posts from December, 2007

*Shudder*

Last night I had another moment of hypnopompicsleep paralysis [yes, there are 3 links in that sentence]. I woke up at 1am and couldn't move. Not at all. The fan fixture in my room seemed to be some sort of dark (and exceedingly large) owl or hawk that watched me intently. Everything in my head was trying to make my body respond, but it wouldn't.

So I started singing a hymn. Roughly one verse in, I heard my brother walking toward his room. He was singing the same song - two lines behind me. I don't know if I heard him in my sleep, but it certainly wasn't a conscious choice to sing the same thing. And somehow, it gave me great peace. And then I could move. I lay there, breathing deeply like I'd just run up the stairs, even though I hadn't moved at all.


In thinking about it this morning, I have two thoughts:
1. I don't know if I could handle full body paralysis. There is something incredibly frightening and frustrating to being unable to make your body respond as…

Prized Possessions

The fun thing about going through boxes of stuff is that I find things I forgot I owned. And sometimes, they're things that have a great deal of meaning. Yesterday, I found My Little Ponies, a tiny stuffed puppy that Sarah gave me when we were just becoming friends, some photos from way back when, and these two little objects:

1. An award from the U of G. This wasn't actually that long ago, but I often forget about it. At the time, it was both a complete surprise and a very reassuring way for God to say, "You've been faithful, and so have I."

2. A very tiny New Testament. Back when my Grampie landed in Britain, during WWII, he received this. At the time, he didn't know Jesus. But the little book is marked up with all sorts of stars and underlines, and even a few notes his mom sent him while he was away. I love this little book.

Sleep Routine

10pm: I feel sort of tired. I probably turn on my computer. Or sit in front of the TV. Or both.

11pm: I can no longer waste time on Facebook or email. There's nothing to do. I turn off my computer.

11:10pm: Teeth brushed, face washed, in my boiler of a den.

11:12pm: I contemplate reading.

11:18pm: I decide I'm too tired to read.

11:19pm: I put my headphones in to listen to a little music.

11:40pm: I realize I am not going to fall asleep with my headphones in. I take them out.

midnight: I wonder why I am still awake, and what thoughts are soooo pressing that I cannot sleep.

12:30am: I'm almost asleep, I think.

4am(ish): I wake up. Either I am too hot, or my blanket has slipped off and I'm too cold. I fix said problem.

8:30am: My alarm goes.

8:30am: I stop my alarm and roll over.

9:30am: I wake up.

9:45am: I wake up again.

10:00am: I wonder why no one has woken me up yet.

10:10am: I roll out of bed.

Christmas Highlights

Well, Christmas is over in my family's house.

At least, the Christmas tree, gift-giving, big-meal, family aspect of Christmas.

Highlights include:
- finally getting all my gifts purchased at 1pm this afternoon.
- decorating the tree by myself last night while listening to my mellow mix.
- meeting my brother's girlfriend.
- all three of my siblings actually gave money away instead of spending it on me!
- delicious food, courtesy of my mom. And sister-in-law (pumpkin toffee cheesecake!!!)

Slightly less amazing moments:
- the non-arrival of my ordered-online gifts. Grr. Much anger.
- making my nephew cry. Oops.
- eating toooooo much yummy food. My tummy hurts.
- not knowing what to do with myself on Christmas Day.

Complicated

In tonight's movie (The Darjeeling Limited) my favourite lines were:

"I wonder if the three of us would have been friends in real life. Not as brothers, but as people."
I had wondered the same thing earlier today - would I be friends with my siblings if we weren't siblings?

girl: "Whatever happens in the end, I don't want to lose you as my friend."
boy: "I will never be your friend, no matter what, ever."
I thought it wonderfully summed up the impossible complexities of relationships.

Ontario Sucks

This is the title of a song by The Arrogant Worms. It is funny. Today, I agree with it for the following reasons:

a) snowplows leave inordinate amounts of snow on driveways. It is a pain to shovel it. We don't have this problem in Vancouver.
b) I thought the bathroom ads in BC were disturbing...the TV ads are worse here. I can't get over two of them - I think for health care, or safety - that's it. The Work and Safety Board, whatever they're called... their ads are graphic and disturbing. I will change the channel when they come on.
c) It is cold.
d) Transit is not as good. Well, that's Guelph to Vancouver, not Ontario to BC.

I still love Ontario. I am not yet convinced that BC is "the promised land" as one friend told me. But the grass is always greener on the other side, and now that I'm in Ontario, I guess I can whine a little.

Whiny baby is the new term of endearment at Fun City...

{editor's note, 10:15pm: I am not at all as upset with Ontario as I r…

Oh Yeah...

Christmas is upon us. It's been stressful for me, and I'm not looking forward to the rest of my Christmas shopping.

But I actually thought about the Christmas story today. I went to a Christmas play, and sat two rows in front of the percussion (if ever I were in an orchestra, I would like to play the timpani, the triangle, and the xylophone).

I thought about Mary and Joseph. I thought about the trust that they had to build. And the trust they probably didn't feel easily.

I thought about angels and the celebrations in a realm that I can't see. Someday, I'd like to party like it's heaven. Someday, I will party like it's heaven.

I thought about the wise men and the shepherds, and how ready, how willing they were to drop it all and come worship a little baby.

I thought about God. God, becoming human. Jesus - a helpless baby, depending on His very own creation for everything. Learning how to walk and say Mama.

I thought about love. How God loves me. How beautiful He i…

Lovely, Lovely Universe

Pretty much speechless. This is the Carina Nebula.courtesy of Hubblesite.org

Aaarrrggghhh

Somedays, nothing seems to go right. I want my plans to work the way I've planned. That's the point of planning. Planning that is planning is fun. Planning that is reworking the same plan six different ways: not fun.

A Weekend's Worth of Thoughts

Friday night:
My housemates are good cooks.
My housemates are good party hosts.
My house throws a good party.
I'm tired.
I hope everyone's had fun.
Wii is fun.
Bed. No seriously. Bedtime.

Saturday:
I'm tired.
I don't have to go anywhere.
White Christmas! Favourite Christmas movie ever.
Happy sigh.
I should get dressed.
I have experienced both sleep paralysis and hypnagogia.
Go Canucks, go.
Strongbow... cider not beer.
I am really tired.

Sunday:
Wow, still tired. Need to sleep better at night.
I like my church. I like that everything comes back to Jesus.
Lunch with Laura!
I forgot how much I love Anne of Green Gables. I think we're kindred spirits.
How can I watch the last half of the sequel in the next month?
Spa Night!
I love apple cider.
My hands feel so soft.
My eyeslids are tired.
So sleepy.
Mmmm, bed.

Who's upstairs?
Are they playing video games?
They're definitely playing video games.
Ha. I can hear the controller.

Biographies

I'm reading a biography of Simone Weil. I'm still waiting to get to her religious conversion/experience, which is what I'm primarily intrigued by. Her thoughts on manual labour and the value of the proletariat are not quite in my sphere of pressing concerns.

But as I read a 300 page summary of 34 years of life, I can't help but wonder what they're missing. I mean, you can't possibly cover everything. And a biographer can't possibly know everything. So what are the details left unmentioned?

And if someone wrote a biography of my life - a stretch to be sure - what would make the cut? What would be considered too insignificant to mention? Would they be right?

Funk: Back

Rain: pouring.

Slush: three inches deep.

Mood: back in crappy-land. I have work to finish tonight and feel insulted by a friend. Even though I'm pretty sure I'm imagining it.

[Also, I was at the Funk's house, which was a good time. And now I'm back home. By myself.]

Snow

Before it began melting (tomorrow's high is 11), it looked like this. Just so you know.

Funk: Gone

I was not having a good week. Until Friday. Friday, my spirits lifted inexplicably.

On Friday night, I cleaned the fireplace. We have never used the fireplace. It was last cleaned something like 6 years ago. There was a lot of ash. And some slightly rotten wood. My housemates called me Cinderella, and for a moment, I knew how she felt: Murphy soap in ridiculously hot water, black hands and cast iron fire-holders...

My housemates were watching TV, and one of the shows on was Scrubs. Partway in, I commented Hey, that guy looks like Clay Aiken. I thought it again when the character showed up five minutes later, but didn't say anything for fear of seeming a bit obsessed...but then! He of course was Clay Aiken and got to bust out with a 30 second song (staff talent show was the context). And then I felt both pleased with myself and a little disappointed. I knew it was him! I'm now itching to bust out his album, which I own. I got it as a gift.

Yesterday, I woke up to a tiny bit of sno…