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Monthly Archives: August 2006

I’m sure I’m annoying my Dad with my typing right now. It’s 11:00, everyone’s asleep, and I picked now to sit down and write. It was either that or wait another week. I figured I should do this now.

I’m here. I’ve only been here for over a week, so I’m not sure what to think yet. So much has happened in the past couple of months, so much has changed and more changes are coming. I think I’m in a bit of a daze as to all that’s going on around me right now.

A few nights ago I found myself staring out my bedroom window at dusk, looking toward the east horizon, the view obscured only by a little house surrounded by a few trees along the horizon line, and I remembered. I thought back to the week before I left for Vancouver, where staring out that same window, at the same time of day, at the same horizon, I thought about the future and what it would bring. Who I’d become. What would happen. Who I’d meet. Whether it was the right move. And I remember feeling this sense of certainty that I wasn’t going to stay there. At that point it hadn’t sunk in that I’d be staying there for a matter of years, much the same as it hasn’t sunk in that I’m staying here. But I knew I’d be back.

Some things are the same. My sister and I still fight. My Grandpa still has a box of Pot of Gold chocolates hidden by his chair. He also continues to constantly crack sarcastic comments about the Saskatchewan Party (I get that from him…). My puppy wakes me up every morning. The doors on the grey car still don’t lock. The Riders rule talk radio. Dad still loves his Quik, and Mom still does crossword puzzles outside on the deck.

But some things are different. My cousins have grown into young girls. Mom is going back to school. Kirstin lives in Minot, and Allie lives in Edmonton. Jill is getting married. Sherry has a baby. Jeff and Michelle have their own place and own lives. Jennifer talks more. The backyard has finally grown into the oasis my Mom wanted. And after 26 years of denial, my Dad finally admitted that he ate the chocolate chips my Mom bought for baking.

People change. Landscapes change. Hearts change. Solar systems changed. I’ve changed.

I don’t miss Vancouver. But I don’t regret it. Without it, I wouldn’t have changed. And the change is for the better. I’m the same, but different…

Oh please, Robaxisal with codeine. Please work. Fast.

The amount of work I did packing yesterday was apparently too much. My lower back has been screaming all day. I finally gave up and took a nap. The heating pad hasn’t done much. Rest hasn’t done much. So, Robaxisal had better work.

As you all know, I can become obsessive about things. My new obsessions are “House” and “Grey’s Anatomy”. I hardly watched TV during the actual TV “season”, so now I’ve been catching up with reruns. I love the medical mysteries of “House” and the character interactions/competition on “Grey’s Anatomy”.

One of the things I’m going to miss from Vancouver is the free daily newspapers. Well, I guess they’re really flyers. But they have a great crossword puzzle everyday. I’m not sure how I’m going to survive without it.

Well, I guess it’s back to the heating pad, working on some sewing and waiting until the codeine kicks in, and then it’s to sleep. I’m sure the codeine will bring some weird dreams. And after watching “House” – I’d bet the farm on it…

Right now a melody with the above words is going through my head. It’s a nice little jingle. Happy. Cheerful. Quite unlike how I’m feeling.

My back is killing me, my left ear is bleeding and red from my earring, my neck hurts to turn, I’m cranky, hot and tired, I have to pack everything, take care of all kinds of silly business, my feet are cracked and bled on my favorite socks the other night and I can’t stand the taste of chocolate right now. What is wrong with me?

Everything on this list (minus the bleeding ear and the distate for chocolate) are understandable right now. I finally went to get boxes today and started the mass move. But this is so much easier than moving from university. My dorm room in Luther had so much more crammed into it than this one does. And I’m downsizing. A lot.

I’ve got 4 garbage bags to toss (not including the 3 from last week), another bag of clothes to donate, a couple of shopping bags of books to donate, and hopefully much more will go. I’m becoming less of a pack rat than I was. Books are still a problem, as I love them so much, but after this move I can leave all of my music books in one place. They don’t have to follow me around anymore.

I tossed all of my notes from university (except those from my Political Science 100 class) out today. I kept my essays for future reference, but everything else is gone. Even my Luther clipboard. Gone. I don’t need it anymore. I don’t need those notes anymore, either. And it was quite freeing.

I hate being loaded down with stuff. Stuff of any kind. It doesn’t just have to be material things, but emotional, spiritual, physical stuff. Some I keep because I’m afraid of what will happen if I let go. Other stuff I’m just too lazy to work off. And some things won’t budge no matter how hard I try.

Moving back home is scarier than moving out here was. Here I had no idea what I was getting into. At home, I know exactly what’s there. And what stuff there is to load me down. So, I have to make a conscious effort to weigh everything before I take it on. Easier said than done.

But moving home makes me excited. While walking home from church on Saturday, the thought of “What if this is the wrong move?” entered my head (the fear of making mistakes is something I need to continue to battle). I answered, “And what if it is?” I move back here. Or somewhere else. Life is more fluid than I make it. Making a wrong decision doesn’t condemn you; it allows you to make a new choice. A more informed choice.

Talking to my Mom tonight, we realized how much I’ve grown. Not so much in the past couple of years, but in the past few months. Decisions had to be made, paths had to be crossed, life had to change. I’ve learned a lot about myself, who I am, what it is I want, and that in most cases, I have so much more control of my life than I believe.

I also realized how naive I was. How I kept waiting for earth-shattering moments to happen that would help me make certain decisions, make life better, make life whole. But those things rarely happen. Life is about all of the steps in between, even the smallest ones.

In a lot of ways, I have had more life experiences on a stage than off of it. Why? Because I thought things just happened. Love just happens. Friendship just happens. Happiness just happens. But they don’t. A lot goes into creating those things. You have to make a decision. You have to get involved.

I’m not sure if I believe all of the above or whether they’re just words that I should be saying. But at least I’m aware of them. Aware of the power I hold. And afraid of it. They’re the first steps of many…

I feel like a little kid.

I can’t sit still. I’m bored. I’m eating too much ice cream. I fidget. I just want to go home.

I am not a patient person. Next week seems like an eternity away. I do have to pack and all that, but that can wait until next week. I’m not sidestepping boxes for two weeks. Uh uh. Not until I have to.

Saturday night’s fireworks show was miles beyond Wednesday’s. The fireworks were more numerous, more complex, louder, higher – better. Some of them exploded in various shapes at different angles. It was much more spectacular than the previous show. Tomorrow night the Czech Republic takes the bay. On Saturday, Mexico presents, and there is a finale as well. Heather and I are planning on going to watch.

Today’s crossword puzzle wasn’t too hard. Yesterday’s was ridiculous. How many Semitic fertility goddesses do you know? Me? None. I know nothing about mythology. Maybe it’s something I should look into…

But for now I’ve got enough reading material and world events to discuss, even though I am bored…

The cure? Sleep (and weird dream about synchronized swimming, apparently). And lots of it…

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