Thievery

I stole this from the lovely Brandy, whom I absolutely adore.  I’ve been feeling quiet and introspective lately, so a survey seems like the perfect fit for me today! 

 

1. I’ve come to realize that my chest-size. . . is what it is.  Push-up bras are my best friend.

2. I’ve come to realize that my job. . . has changed me.

3. I’ve come to realize that when I’m driving alone. . . I like to turn the music off.  It’s one of the few chances I have for peace and quiet.

4. I’ve come to realize that I need. . . a plan.

5. I’ve come to realize that I have lost. . . far too many friends. 

6. I’ve come to realize that I hate it when. . . I am the only one who works to maintain friendships.

7. I’ve come to realize that if I’m drunk. . . it’s probably the end of the world (I don’t drink). 

8. I’ve come to realize that money. . . is only unimportant when you have enough.

9. I’ve come to realize that certain people. . . will never leave your heart or your head.

10. I’ve come to realize that I’ll always. . . be at least one minute late. 

11. I’ve come to realize that my sibling(s). . . will always be someone I look up to.  He has the life I long for.

12. I’ve come to realize that my mom. . .is a person, not just a mother.

13. I’ve come to realize that cell phones. . . are my only link to the outside world.

14. I’ve come to realize that when I woke up this morning. . . I shouldn’t have hit the snooze button four times.

15. I’ve come to realize that last night before I went to sleep. . . I should have called you. 

16. I’ve come to realize that right now I am thinking. . . I should still probably call you. 

17. I’ve come to realize that my dad. . . does what he does out of pure love. 

18. I’ve come to realize that when I get on Facebook. . . I long to see more pictures of you, so I can get a better glimpse of what your life is like.

19. I’ve come to realize that today. . . is a new day.

20. I’ve come to realize that tonight. . . is my workout night.

21. I’ve come to realize that tomorrow. . . is Friday and the beginning of a couple of days away from the office.

22. I’ve come to realize that I really want to. . . pause my life.

23. I’ve come to realize that the some people… will always know exactly what to say.

24. I’ve come to realize that life. . . is mine for the making.

25. I’ve come to realize that this weekend. . . is going to be girly and filled with bridal showers and baking.

26. I’ve realized the best music to listen to when I am upset. . . Counting Crows – August and Everything After.  Pure perfection, no matter what mood you’re in.

27. I’ve come to realize that my friends. . . are too far away.

28. I’ve come to realize that this year. . . has been the strangest yet.

29. I’ve come to realize that my ex(s). . . are some of my favourite people. 

30. I’ve come to realize that maybe I should. . . put more effort into my blog.

31. I’ve come to realize that I love. . . my family, and not just because they’re my family. 

32. I’ve come to realize that I don’t understand. . . complicated math.  I’m more artsy than I ever thought I was. 

33. I’ve come to realize my past. . . can’t be re-lived.

34. I’ve come to realize that parties. . . are usually overrated.

35. I’ve come to realize that I’m totally terrified. . . of wasting my life.

36. I’ve come to realize that my life. . . is what I make of it.

Are there any answers here that you completely agree with?  Any of them that are totally out there?  Let’s hear it!

Finding my faith – part two.

Click here for part one. 

Once Bryan and I started dating we only had a couple of weeks before school ended for the summer.  We spent those two weeks sitting together in every class, walking to every class together and having lunch together.  We both played the same position in rugby, so even after school we spent hours at practice knocking the wind out of each other. 

For the summer break Bryan was heading north to be a camp counselour while I stayed in town at my boring retail job.  We both had talked about how the summer would either make us or break us.  Turns out, a lack of communication can kill a connection pretty quickly.  While he was at camp we were only able to talk once during the week for 10 minutes and then we usually spent Sunday mornings together at church, but by Sunday afternoon he was heading back to camp. 

In the short time we dated, we both made mistakes.  Bryan pushed me to go further physically than I thought was appropriate and I had no idea how to respond.  I thought he wouldn’t try to do much more than hold my hand or kiss me because he was a ‘good Christian boy’.  I thought he would be different than other relationships I’d had up until that point, but it seemed exactly the same as every other pushy high school boy I’d dated and that left me jaded.

It wasn’t just Bryan though, I was a mess.  I was constantly worried that Bryan would come to the conclusion that I wasn’t good enough to be with him and so I basically played a part.  I became what I thought he wanted me to be.  I was quiet, I was submissive, I went along with what he wanted.  I thought it was the way to his heart, but he was only frustrated because he just wanted me to be myself.  It got to the point where talking was awkward and we just felt like we had nothing to say to each other.  Within a few weeks we were barely speaking and were both trying to avoid having to talk about anything. 

Finally on Bryan’s birthday he stepped up to the plate and said that he wanted to just go back to being friends.  It was like a giant weight had been lifted from my shoulders.  I could be myself again.  The day we broke up we talked non-stop for hours.  I even volunteered to drive him back to camp just so we could continue our conversation, it was that good.  I don’t know why, but we just couldn’t handle the stress of a relationship. 

By the time we broke up I’d been consistently attending Bryan’s very conservative church.  I thought church was all about organs, hymnals and elderly preachers, and I was okay with that.  Since it was such a conservative church I knew I was getting a good foundation - it was like Sunday School Boot Camp, but once things ended I didn’t feel comfortable there and I stopped going to church altogether. 

Within a few weeks it was time to head back to high school for my final year.  I threw myself into my normal school routine of studying and sports.  Rugby season went by in a flash and in no time at all it was winter and volleyball season was beginning, but things were going to be different on our team this year.  We had a new coach. 

He was a former national-level player and had just moved to town, but coaching was his side project.  During the day he was the pastor of a new church that had started in my small town.  Since most of the girls on my team were already church-goers a few of us decided to check it out one Sunday morning.

It was like nothing I’d ever experienced. 

Puppy love.

Ever since I was a kid, I’ve loved dogs.  My parents did too and we always had a dog.  The dog they brought home on my 15th birthday still sleeps at the foot of their bed every night. 

I knew when we were picking out our puppy that it would be nice to have a companion especially since I live by myself all week at work.  I had no idea how much I could love him.  He’s my cuddle partner and my running buddy.  He makes me laugh.  He brightens my day.

You’re four months old today.

Thanks for picking me buddy, you’re just the perfect fit.

Is anyone there?

I know it’s been radio silent around here, and believe me there are reasons!  No, not excuses – REASONS!  Last week I thoughtfully put together the second volume of “Finding my Faith” and I subsequently lost all faith in WordPress.  It ate my entry!  My lovingly and labouriously constructed post vanished *poof* into thin air.  So, for the past week I’ve been shunning WordPress and it has since apologized and we are moving forward. 

Moving forward….

This has been a big week for me because I was able to go shopping.  I’ve been loyally dedicated to Gap jeans since my employment there in university (the fact that it was the worst job I ever had hasn’t deterred me from shopping there, I’m just extra-nice to the staff there because I know what it feels like to have your lifeforce drained).  I’ve been reading everyone raving about how they’ve revamped their jeans and I couldn’t wait to check them out.  The main problem?  The closest GAP is more than an hour away and on-line shopping isn’t an option since GAP doesn’t ship to Canada.  Last night I was finally able to get to the mall and I sprinted to the GAP and grabbed these lovelies:

Long and Lean

Sexy Boot

Curvy

Always Skinny

 

The verdict:

Long and Lean:  These have always been my go-to jeans.  I always know that a 6A will fit (yep, I’m a shorty) without me having to hem anything.  The one gripe I have about them is that they don’t completely complement my backside.  I’ve got junk in the trunk, and these can make my ass look flat as a pancake.  Having tried on the new version, there is improvement – the rear pockets sit better and finding a nice dark colour without any fading on the thighs (they’re big enough, don’t need any added attention) was great.  I realized while I was trying on the other styles that the mid-rise is just too high for my frame and it accentuates my hips which is the last thing I need.

Sexy Boot:  I thought I would like these more than I did.  I also tried them in the darkest wash available and for some reason they made me look huge across my hips and thighs.  I actually think some light fading would have helped these out since my legs just seemed like one giant mass of dark denim, but I didn’t have time to try anything else on.  I did think the lower rise was more flattering though.

Curvy:  I have a pair of curvy jeans that I loved, but they ended up shrinking in the wash and are now too short.  These were a vast improvement from both the Long and Lean and the Sexy Boot.  The rise was comparable to the Sexy Boot, but they fit more like the Long and Lean through my hips.  The length was a little long, but I knew I’d be able to wear them with boots and if they shrunk much they would work with flats.

Always Skinny:  I think I had a momentary lapse when I grabbed these.  I’ve always envied people who could pull it off, but let’s be honest here – not many people can really pull it off.  I’m not a big fan of the skinny jeans and heels trend, but I do love skinny jeans tucked into boots.  I tried these on and was pleasantly surprised.  They actually looked kind of cute, but they didn’t have them in the shorter length so they were miles too long.  These may actually be a consideration if I am ever able to find tall boots that fit around my calves (any suggestions?). 

Verdict:  I came home with the Curvy, but if I’m able to find the Always Skinny in the shorter length I may very well own my first pair of skinny jeans! 

 

I also had to make a stop at Roots and ended up with this:

Grassroots Hoody

and this,

Stacey Beanie

I am a sucker for hoodies, especially cozy Roots hoodies in this colour.  I think every item of Roots clothing I own is this same colour.  I wore it walking the dog this morning and it was perfect.  I am also a sucker for toques and thought this one was adorable (it’s not nearly as bright as it looks in the picture).  I was hunting around trying to find a picture of it online, and I realized that it’s a kids toque – haha.  Oh well, it’s cute and it fits! I can’t wait to wear it!

What can’t you wait to wear this fall? 

Finding my faith – part one.

The first time I ever went to church I was 17.  I’d spent my elementary school summer’s at a Bible camp that everyone went to.  I knew “about” God.  When I was 7 I sat by the lake with my counselor, confessed my sin and asked Jesus to be my Saviour.  Even at such a young age my spiritual life felt like a roller coaster.  I would spent a few weeks each year going to chapel three times a day, singing Sunday School songs and memorizing Bible verses.  I can remember asking my parents to take me to church, but it never happened.  I hungered for God.  I wanted to learn, but there was no one around for me to learn from.  My little pink Precious Moments bible sat on my nightstand collecting dust.

Once I was in high school I had a hard time fitting in.  I hate two groups of friends – basically the Christian kids and the non-Christian kids.  I was stuck in limbo and couldn’t quite adapt enough to be completely accepted on either side.  I was too much of a rebel for the Christian crew (I went to parties) but too much of a good-girl for the secular crowd (I didn’t drink, smoke pot or have sex).  Through most of twelfth grade I had nightly discussions on ICQ with my friends Rick and Bryan where they would try to get me to go to church with them.  For months I refused.  I told them I wanted to spend time praying and reading the Bible on my own and come to my own conclusions rather than have a church tell me what to believe.  I can look back and know now that it was a total cop-out.  I didn’t want to go with them because I was afraid of what people would think.  I was afraid that the kids at church would either talk about me behind my back and wonder what I was doing there, or they would make a fuss out of my being there. 

Bryan in particular remained persistent.  He and I had known each other since junior high but didn’t really become good friends until we had every class together in grade 11.  His ICQ pestering paid off and a few months later I agreed to go to a service with him.  The next day at school I was in the library when my friend Natasha (who was dating Bryan’s brother) came up to me and said,

 

“I heard you’re going on a date with Bryan.”

“We’re not going on a date, I’m just going to church with him next weekend.”

“That’s a date,” she replied.

 

I was dumfounded.  Who would have ever thought that going to church together would be considered a date?  It seemed like oil and water to me, but maybe I just wasn’t as down with the Christian scene as I thought I was. 

Our first church-date was good, but uneventful.  He continued to ask and I continued to go.  The church he went to was super-conservative and while I felt like it was a good learning experience for me, I still didn’t feel like I fit in.  Gradually church on Sundays turned into Youth Group Friday nights and sports at camp on Saturdays.  The more I got to know Bryan, the more I admired him.  We talked every night and he would always ask how my day was.  It sounds so small and insignificant, but he was the first guy that I’d spent time with that genuinely cared how my day turned out.  One day Bryan asked me to go to the movies with a big group of people.  I said sure and then was completely surprised to discover I was the only girl.  He’s risked complete ridicule from all of his friends just to spend time with me.  I was hooked. 

On the drive home we both sat with our hands on the center console, our pinky fingers just barely touching.  That little bit of contact made my heart beat faster than any time I’d been kissed.  When we got to my house he walked me to the door (another point for Bryan!) and said,

 

“So what do you think?”

“About what?”

“About us.”

“I think it’s good.”

“So do you want to try it?”

“Sure.”

 

We hugged and sealed the deal and that was it.  We were a couple.

 

Edited to Add:  I’m sorry to anyone who has commented on the last couple of posts.  I will get back to you, but my e-mail account is down AGAIN. 

End of summer.

Throughout my life Labour Day weekend was always held in high regard.  It was the last few days to cram as much time with your friends in as possible.  It didn’t matter that all of you would be starting back to the very same school, in the very same small town come Tuesday.  What mattered was that you were free until Tuesday.  No homework and no worries.  Monday night was always a scramble, trying to pick out the perfect outfit from your back-to-school shopping spree, trying to decide whether it would be cooler to take money to buy your lunch even though the cafeteria food was virtually inedible and trying to decide whether you needed to get up early to get your hair just right. 

Now Labour Day weekend is just the last chance to enjoy an extra day off of work until Thanksgiving rolls around. 

There’s no excitement about new school supplies, new classes, new friends.  It’s getting up at 4 a.m. and going back to the grind. 

I guess that means I’m all grown up now. 

Friends are grown up too. 

Over the weekend one of my closest friends from high school and roommate in first year of university stopped by.  With her new husband. 

Even though Alex and I have been together longer than she and her husband, it was like a whole different ballgame because they’re married. Why does that make my relationship seem inadequate?  Or less somehow?  But I’m not jealous.  Really.  I’m so incredibly happy for her.  She got the guy she has longed for for years, she’s moved onto a new phase in her life where she is a wife and I really am so glad, but part of me years for the times we spent in our dorm room up until the wee hours of the morning discussing all of our crushes and just being girls. 

But we’re women now. 

We’ve both settled down in new homes and new careers, our partners by our sides.  The outlook is rosy.

But sometimes I wish we could all go back and just be girls. 

Think before you speak.

Long-distance relationships are never easy.

Alex and I have been in our normal routine of only seeing each other on weekends for nearly four years now and while we’ve gotten used to it, it doesn’t mean that I don’t whine about it from time to time. 

 

Me:  I feel like you’ve been distant, like you don’t even want to be at home with me on weekends.

Alex:  It’s not that at all.  Work has been really stressful and it’s getting to me.

Me:  I get that but you can’t take work stress out on me.

Alex:  Relax, it’s just work.  I’m not cheating on your or anything.

Me: *surprised blinking*

 

WTF? 

It didn’t once cross my mind that you would be cheating until you JUST SAID THAT.  Thanks for planting that lovely seed of sunshine and NAGGING DOUBT.  Bah.

Why can’t guys think before they speak?

Levels of attractiveness.

Today I was reading a post that Brandy wrote about Heartbreakers & Dealmakers.  As I was reading some of her comments (for the record, Brandy gets some of the best comments around and her tags are just as worth reading as the post itself) someone said that they wouldn’t date a boy that was prettier than them.  Amen sister! 

I think we all tend to date people who are on the same “attractiveness” level as we are.  I know I’m no stunner (hello, you’ve all seen pictures of me in a bikini) but I can hold my own.  For the most part I’ve always been told that I’m cute or pretty and hell, I’ll take it.  It’s the cute girls that always look to be having fun.  Lots of the seriously beautiful people I’ve known take themselves too seriously to ever have any fun.

Throughout my dating ‘career’ (I should be losing my amateur status anyday now, but that means no Olympics for me) I’ve tended to date the same guy.  He’s always been athletic and funny, preppy and cute.  See, cute is as cute does.  The guys I dated were never considered the hottest guys around, but they were still good-looking.  It was my skinny friend Krista that got the hot ones, I got their cute friends. 

At the end of high school a new guy moved to town.  All the girls loved him.  He’d moved to our small town from the city and he seemed so different.  He wore button-down shirts everyday and had his hair gelled so it was just right.  He looked remarkably like this guy,

(You know you’ve all watched While You Were Out.)

Not long after moving to the school he started dating a girl who was the girl in school.  You know the one.  The pretty, popular, athletic, but not-so-smart girl.  Surprisingly enough, that didn’t last long.

After having a few classes together and being in the same larger group of friends he and I started to talk more and spend more time together.  We were best friends for months and then once we left our small town and enrolled at the same university we started dating.  While we were dating his looks were an ongoing source of insecurity for me.  Everywhere we went I felt like girls were looking at him and wondering what he was doing with me. 

It was like that episode of Sex and the City where Miranda (holy hell, I can’t believe I’m comparing myself to Miranda of all people) where Carrie gets mugged and Miranda goes on a date with the hot cop.  She ends up so nervous that she drinks enough for him to think she’s an alcoholic.  People, my life was like this for nearly four years! And I don’t drink!  I had no sort of compensation!

There was a girl in one of his classes that he always spent time with and one day I met him after class and she was with him.  The first words out of her mouth were, “Oh – you’re not at all what I expected”.  Awesome.  In my head I could hear what she was really thinking, “You’re actually about six inches shorter and 15 pounds heavier than I expected, and you’re wearing last year’s shoes”.

We were probably dating for two years before I finally realized that he was with me because he wanted to be with me.  He thought I was beautiful and that was all that mattered.  Even though things have long since ended I’m still kinda proud of myself for landing the “hot” guy who ended up being crazy about me. 

So do you think that you date on your same level?  Do you consciously date in a level higher or lower than your own?  Do you think there are levels?

Spill it!

Dreaming of rainbows.

The first time was a week after my grandma passed away. 

I woke up sweating with my heart pounding and was completely terrified.  I had dreamt of her and it had me completely freaked out. 

This was no ordinary dream either.  In my dream I was at her funeral and when I went up to the casket to say goodbye she sat up and started talking to me.  In my dream I knew that she was still gone but it did not seem to phase me at all that she would be chatting with me while lying in her casket, one hand under her chin like she was about to spill some juicy gossip.  I was so startled when I woke up that I didn’t even think to try and remember what she’d been telling me. 

The dream had me feeling strangely all day.  I just felt off somehow.  Finally Alex asked what was wrong with me and I confessed that I’d had a dream about her and that it had really gotten to me.  I remember finally laughing through my tears and asking Alex if it was messed up that I was just happy to have seen her.  He told me that was the way I should be looking at it and that I should consider myself lucky that I was able to dream about her. 

The next time I dreamt that my mom, my aunt and I were all visiting her grave site.  As we were standing by her headstone she came walking over to us and gave me a hug.  My mom asked me if I was hugging my grandma and I said that I was. My grandma took my hand and looked at me and sadly smiled and said, “They can’t see me can they?”. 

This one shook me the most because I know that my mom and the aunt are the two that I can’t tell about my dreams.  If I did tell them it would go one of two ways – they would either think I was crazy or it would upset them too much.  I’m not sure I’m ready for either of those options. 

The most recent dream I had was that there was a party and my whole family was there.  As I was standing near the door in walked my grandma and grandpa hand-in-hand.  She was wearing the pink dress with the sassy black hat she wore to my cousin’s wedding and he was exactly how I remembered him – a red and black plaid barn jacket and a trucker cap.  It surprised me how much I remembered about how he looked just because he passed away when I was four and I really don’t remember him that much.  As they walked in my grandma gave me a hug and my grandpa leaned over, kissed me on the cheek and told me to tell my Uncle Ray to get some sleep. 

This time I woke up with a smile on my face. 

A few weeks later a bunch of us had gathered for dinner at my grandma’s farm and I was finally able to talk to my cousin Lisa about it.  Lisa is a total believer in the supernatural and I knew that she would want to hear about the dreams and elt me read as much into it as I wanted.  As we were talking she had a smile on her face, tears in her eyes and goosebumps on her arms.  I finished telling her about my most recent dream and a rainstorm came thundering in but only lasted a few minutes.  As the skies cleared the brightest, most perfect rainbow any of us had ever seen appeared in the sky.  You could see every colour perfectly from end to end.  I couldn’t help but think that it was another sign, letting us know that she’s okay. 

Do you think our dreams actually mean something and come from somewhere bigger than ourselves, or are they just our subconscious mind at work?

The joys of dog ownership.

It’s been five weeks since we picked up Henry from the breeder and it’s definitely been a learning experience.  We’ve both had to get used to each other and it finally feels like we’re settling into a routine.  Every night after dinner we head out for our daily walk.  While we’re walking we come across some interesting characters, but there’s been one in particular. 

He’s an older man who lives in the small village where I work and I see him walking everyday, I don’t think he ever stops walking.  I’ve seen him in the neighbouring town which is 15 kilometers away, and he’s walked there.  The first time I ran into him while walking the dog was last week and he wanted to stop and chat.

“What kind of dog is that?  Is that an Alaskan dog?”

“No, he’s an Australian Shepherd.”

“Are you sure he’s not some sort of Alaskan dog?”

“Yep I’m sure, he’s a purebred Australian Shepherd.”

“Oh, well was he expensive then?”

“He was pretty reasonable.”

“Would I be able to afford him?  How much did you pay for him?”

“I’d rather not answer that.”

“Oh, so he was expensive.  So what colour is he going to be?”

“He’s going to be the colour he is now, it’s called blue merle.”

By now I was trying to pull Henry down the road to just get out of having to talk any longer.  As Henry started to walk down the street and I gladly followed, he called out after me,

“What happened to that dog’s tail?  Did they cut it off?” (Australian Shepherd’s don’t have tails).

“He was born without one,” I said.

And as I walked away I could hear him muttering, “Poor dog, born without a tail.”

I was exasperated but it was all I could do to keep from laughing. 

 

Last night as I was walking Henry kept stopping and looking behind us.  Finally I glanced backwards and saw the same man out walking.  Since Henry is a puppy, he’s used to everyone stopping to stay hello.  Instead of Henry continuing to stop and look behind us every five feet I just stopped and waited for the man to pass us.  He stopped again,

“Is that one of those Alaskan dogs?”

“No, he’s an Australian Shepherd.”

“That’s what I said, Australian.  Was he expensive?”

“Nope, not really.”

“What happened to his tail?

“He was born without one.”

“Hmm, well I saw another dog just like that out walking last week.”

“I’m pretty sure it was the same dog.”

“Well, another girl was walking him then.”

“No, that was me.”

“You look different.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah, you look about five years older today.”

 

And that was when I turned around and kept walking in the other direction.

What the hell?