"You Owe Me Nothing In Return." By Alanis Morisette. For my hot Mexican. this is us.
I'll give you careless amounts of outright acceptance if you want it.
I will 'll give you encouragement to choose the path you want if you need it.
You can speak of anger and doubts, Your fears and freak-outs and I'll hold it.
You can share your so-called shamefilled accounts of times in your life and I won't judge it.
And there are no strings attached,
You owe me nothing for giving the love that I give.
You owe me nothing for caring the way that I have.
I give you thanks for receiving, it's my privilege,
And you owe me nothing in return.
You can ask for space for yourself and only yourself and I'll grant it.
You can ask for freedom as well or time to revel and you'll have it.
You can ask to live by yourself or love someone else and I'll support it.
You can ask for anything you want Anything at all and I'll understand it.
This is the only kind of love
As I understand it that there really is.
You can express your deepest of truths Even if it means I'll lose you and I'll hear it.
You can fall into the abyss On the way to your bliss And I'll empathize with.
You can say that you'll have to skip town To chase your passion and I'll hear it.
You can leave and hit rock bottom have a mid-life crisis and I'll hold it.
This is the only kind of love
As I understand it that there really is.
Thursday, June 29, 2006
Thursday, June 22, 2006
Tuesday, June 13, 2006
_____
"how dearly i paid for those happy periods when the presence of God was so real, for this possession which seemed to me so perfect was but the preparation for the times of total deprivation." -Madame Guyon
Monday, June 12, 2006
Similies
When you don't eat sugar
a free cookie
is like a free penlight
you don't really need it
you don't really have a use for it
when you really think about it, you don't even want it
but even so,
it is still hard not to take.
nude beaches
are like Neelix from Voyager
simply a bad idea all the way around
but you still can't help but watch
a cup of decaffinated coffee
is like an escalator
no matter how hard it tries, it can never really justify its existence
ketchup
is like rat poison
its a stupid thing to eat
a free cookie
is like a free penlight
you don't really need it
you don't really have a use for it
when you really think about it, you don't even want it
but even so,
it is still hard not to take.
nude beaches
are like Neelix from Voyager
simply a bad idea all the way around
but you still can't help but watch
a cup of decaffinated coffee
is like an escalator
no matter how hard it tries, it can never really justify its existence
ketchup
is like rat poison
its a stupid thing to eat
Thursday, June 08, 2006
Same old line - by The Five O'Clock People
maybe you´ll never know why
i stare off into silence sometimes
maybe you´ll never see
maybe that´s what scares me
it´s the same old line
if it makes you happy i´ll say that I´m fine
it´s the same old line
look in my eyes and i´ll lie everytime
i stare off into silence sometimes
maybe you´ll never see
maybe that´s what scares me
it´s the same old line
if it makes you happy i´ll say that I´m fine
it´s the same old line
look in my eyes and i´ll lie everytime
Tuesday, June 06, 2006
Monday, June 05, 2006
ouchies...it hurts
Ok. So today I was surfing a desktop wallpaper site which I always use, clicked on the “insect” section and among the options were 4 different pictures of flies and hornets mating.
Who the heck wants that for their wallpaper? Ridiculous.
I was a social deviant today, in a strange way. I was walking down Spence to work after seeing my crazy chiropractor. It was so nice outside, and there were a bunch of people sitting on a front porch just hanging out. I, of course, ignored them because that’s what Winnipeggers do best. But they didn’t let me ignore them. When I walked by one of them said “good morning” in a way which startled me because it was the most sincere “good morning” I think I have ever received. It made me feel good. I said good morning back and smiled. And then realized how rude I was in the first place to ignore them sitting ten feet away from me. I was deviant because I didn’t say hi. And it was great. And now I want to live on Spence street. That’s awesome.
Anyway. Here is a picture of me wearing full makeup for the first time in my life. Enjoy.
Bre
Who the heck wants that for their wallpaper? Ridiculous.
I was a social deviant today, in a strange way. I was walking down Spence to work after seeing my crazy chiropractor. It was so nice outside, and there were a bunch of people sitting on a front porch just hanging out. I, of course, ignored them because that’s what Winnipeggers do best. But they didn’t let me ignore them. When I walked by one of them said “good morning” in a way which startled me because it was the most sincere “good morning” I think I have ever received. It made me feel good. I said good morning back and smiled. And then realized how rude I was in the first place to ignore them sitting ten feet away from me. I was deviant because I didn’t say hi. And it was great. And now I want to live on Spence street. That’s awesome.
Anyway. Here is a picture of me wearing full makeup for the first time in my life. Enjoy.
Bre
Sunday, May 28, 2006
Our trip
We are in Toronto! Catch our updated trip blog at www.whenpigeonsattack.blogspot.com!
Sorry - i can't seem to make the direct link work. Stupid mac.
Bre
Sorry - i can't seem to make the direct link work. Stupid mac.
Bre
Tuesday, May 23, 2006
this post is way too long
Warning: this was written like 2 weeks ago but wasn’t quite ready to be published today. Mostly because of the wedding yesterday. Yes, before you ask. I was gorgeous. And so was odie.
So yesterday I was asked why I hate the show “what not to wear.” . . . and I found myself unsure exactly of how to answer this question.
The first objection that comes to my mind is the simple fact that this show in on a channel called TLC, which at least used to be known as the Learning Channel. What not to wear? That’s just stupid. There’s not much learning happening there.
I think I must have watched about 5 hours of TLC shows this weekend – not my first choice but I was pretty much held hostage in a hotel room. I must admit that at first I was amused. Until, after turning them off I went to bed depressed and feeling uglier than ever. It was just like I was back in Junior High. My clothes aren’t nice enough. They don’t always match, although G-d knows I try. I have no sense of fashion which has always frustrated me. Its not like I’m not interested in looking cute and trendy, but honestly I’m not good at it, and even more important I am far more interested in looking and feeling like myself. Dave and Janie, you guys have taught me that more than anybody (and I’m super excited to see the colorful combinations of clothes that you will let corrina wear once she is big enough to choose!) But when these shows were over, I felt ashamed of the spongebob squarepants shirt that I so proudly wore all day, and was ashamed of my style-less mop of hair. It is no coincidence that I have a hair appointment an hour from now. Something happened during that night that I just can’t shake. And I don’t like the feeling.
I feel so constrained and attacked by this beast called fashion. It’s strange how confident I can be in so many areas of my life, but when it comes to my clothing or my overly bushy eyebrows or small breasts I feel timid and even ashamed. Why am I so afraid to take fashion risks? I think its connected back to when I was young and some significant exchanges I had with my mother. I love her to death, don’t get me wrong. But when I think about taking fashion risks I think of those little comments when I was young, y’know? I remember one day my parents promised to take me to McDonald’s (I did not know about the evils of global conglomerates in those days, forgive me). My dad, not caring or understanding the need to look pretty (bless him), allowed me to come along in my house clothes. It just didn’t occur to either of us that I should change out of my camouflage pants into something a bit nicer for public view. And then we picked up my mom and she was so upset, she didn’t let us go to McDonald’s. And I was so sad. And I just didn’t understand why I looked so inappropriate for people to look at me.
And there was another time I think of when I was a bit older, like 12ish or something, and I just got this nice hand me down button-up shirt from my cousin or something – it was purple, and was just a little too small, but I really wanted it lots and so spent about an hour finding an undershirt to go underneath it and I worked so hard and I felt so pretty and I left my room feeling so proud and pleased with myself and then my mom told me to wear the shirt properly because I looked dumb and everybody would laugh at me.
Please don’t think my mom is horrible. I love and adore her dearly.
Anyway, needless to say, after being told pretty much every week that what I chose to wear was stupid and that people would laugh at me if I went out in public, I am a bit sensitive and unconfident about color matching or personal appearance.
Self image is a funny thing. So are childhood moments like this that stick with you for a long time.
“What not to wear” is like those moments for me, watching it on television again and again and feeling for all of these people. Their entire wardrobe, life choices, and sense of identity are torn apart in front of millions of people. There was this big tough biker guy who came in looking, appropriately, like a biker guy – leather, t-shirts, big beard. He came in so happy. And then after the main part of the show they gave an interview with him and he said that being in the show and dealing with the comments made was THE hardest thing he’s ever done. And he was a huge biker guy. Pretty harsh. And why? To what end? To amuse me. To fill my day for half an hour, this person’s self-perceptions are torn apart and redirected, althought its ok because they got $5000 worth of free clothes. Problem is, he went in looking like a real person, but came out looking like a cookie-cutter of everybody else on TV. And that made me really really sad.
Why is material consumption and personal looks and attractiveness seen as the ultimate answer to all of our problems? Why do we believe these people will have better lives once they learn how to style their hair? Why do I? Why do I waste my time with this, and why is TLC spending millions of dollars to perpetuate this destructive lie?
There are many days where I don’t feel beautiful. But no matter how nice my clothes or hair are, I don’t think I will ever stop having those days.
And the other reason which just kills me is that there are reasons why people dress the way they dress which aren’t dealt with at all. An abused lady wears baggy clothes due to her painful past. A low-income worker can’t afford anything nice because he is paying for his family. And they are given $5000 to get new clothes. Why are we spending so much money “fixing” the symptoms and not the cause of negative self-image or economic inequality? Why not use the $5000 to pay for healthy counseling for this lady? For an educational course in a trade or University for this gentleman so that he can gain skills and provide more for his family?
It just doesn’t make sense.
So, I guess, that’s why I hate the show “what not to wear.” There you go.
So yesterday I was asked why I hate the show “what not to wear.” . . . and I found myself unsure exactly of how to answer this question.
The first objection that comes to my mind is the simple fact that this show in on a channel called TLC, which at least used to be known as the Learning Channel. What not to wear? That’s just stupid. There’s not much learning happening there.
I think I must have watched about 5 hours of TLC shows this weekend – not my first choice but I was pretty much held hostage in a hotel room. I must admit that at first I was amused. Until, after turning them off I went to bed depressed and feeling uglier than ever. It was just like I was back in Junior High. My clothes aren’t nice enough. They don’t always match, although G-d knows I try. I have no sense of fashion which has always frustrated me. Its not like I’m not interested in looking cute and trendy, but honestly I’m not good at it, and even more important I am far more interested in looking and feeling like myself. Dave and Janie, you guys have taught me that more than anybody (and I’m super excited to see the colorful combinations of clothes that you will let corrina wear once she is big enough to choose!) But when these shows were over, I felt ashamed of the spongebob squarepants shirt that I so proudly wore all day, and was ashamed of my style-less mop of hair. It is no coincidence that I have a hair appointment an hour from now. Something happened during that night that I just can’t shake. And I don’t like the feeling.
I feel so constrained and attacked by this beast called fashion. It’s strange how confident I can be in so many areas of my life, but when it comes to my clothing or my overly bushy eyebrows or small breasts I feel timid and even ashamed. Why am I so afraid to take fashion risks? I think its connected back to when I was young and some significant exchanges I had with my mother. I love her to death, don’t get me wrong. But when I think about taking fashion risks I think of those little comments when I was young, y’know? I remember one day my parents promised to take me to McDonald’s (I did not know about the evils of global conglomerates in those days, forgive me). My dad, not caring or understanding the need to look pretty (bless him), allowed me to come along in my house clothes. It just didn’t occur to either of us that I should change out of my camouflage pants into something a bit nicer for public view. And then we picked up my mom and she was so upset, she didn’t let us go to McDonald’s. And I was so sad. And I just didn’t understand why I looked so inappropriate for people to look at me.
And there was another time I think of when I was a bit older, like 12ish or something, and I just got this nice hand me down button-up shirt from my cousin or something – it was purple, and was just a little too small, but I really wanted it lots and so spent about an hour finding an undershirt to go underneath it and I worked so hard and I felt so pretty and I left my room feeling so proud and pleased with myself and then my mom told me to wear the shirt properly because I looked dumb and everybody would laugh at me.
Please don’t think my mom is horrible. I love and adore her dearly.
Anyway, needless to say, after being told pretty much every week that what I chose to wear was stupid and that people would laugh at me if I went out in public, I am a bit sensitive and unconfident about color matching or personal appearance.
Self image is a funny thing. So are childhood moments like this that stick with you for a long time.
“What not to wear” is like those moments for me, watching it on television again and again and feeling for all of these people. Their entire wardrobe, life choices, and sense of identity are torn apart in front of millions of people. There was this big tough biker guy who came in looking, appropriately, like a biker guy – leather, t-shirts, big beard. He came in so happy. And then after the main part of the show they gave an interview with him and he said that being in the show and dealing with the comments made was THE hardest thing he’s ever done. And he was a huge biker guy. Pretty harsh. And why? To what end? To amuse me. To fill my day for half an hour, this person’s self-perceptions are torn apart and redirected, althought its ok because they got $5000 worth of free clothes. Problem is, he went in looking like a real person, but came out looking like a cookie-cutter of everybody else on TV. And that made me really really sad.
Why is material consumption and personal looks and attractiveness seen as the ultimate answer to all of our problems? Why do we believe these people will have better lives once they learn how to style their hair? Why do I? Why do I waste my time with this, and why is TLC spending millions of dollars to perpetuate this destructive lie?
There are many days where I don’t feel beautiful. But no matter how nice my clothes or hair are, I don’t think I will ever stop having those days.
And the other reason which just kills me is that there are reasons why people dress the way they dress which aren’t dealt with at all. An abused lady wears baggy clothes due to her painful past. A low-income worker can’t afford anything nice because he is paying for his family. And they are given $5000 to get new clothes. Why are we spending so much money “fixing” the symptoms and not the cause of negative self-image or economic inequality? Why not use the $5000 to pay for healthy counseling for this lady? For an educational course in a trade or University for this gentleman so that he can gain skills and provide more for his family?
It just doesn’t make sense.
So, I guess, that’s why I hate the show “what not to wear.” There you go.
Tuesday, April 25, 2006
boys shouldn't read this
OK. I’m back. Everybody settle down. You can thank my crappy economics course for my extended absence. I’ll let you guys know my mark once I get it. I was the first one finished, which is never a good sign.
Anyway. Back to my story.
So as some of you know, I’ve been having some trouble with some areas of my body which some people have, in the past, taught me to refer to as my “private parts.” This is why I have warned the boys not to read this – I think It may get pretty graphic. Anyway, I got an appointment with my doctor, but she wasn’t available, so I had to see this guy who I don’t normally have. And we talked and we did some tests which were uncomfortable and all that and we were waiting for some of the special results.
I was, I can admit, more than a bit nervous about this whole deal because I have lately become terrified of any medical complication more serious than a hangnail. So . . . literally . . . neurotic me, every time the phone rang and it was a number I didn’t recognize I got a bit jumpy expecting bad news of test results.
So I got probed by this strange new doctor on Friday and then on Tuesday got this phone call.
“May I speak to Sebrina please?”
“Yes, this is me.”
“This is Dr. May’s office.”
Hello. My heart is starting to pound and I am starting to get worried. They said that they would only call if the tests indicated something was going on, so this is not a good sign. I am a bit jumpy at this point.
“Ok.”
“We are calling to ask if you would like to make an appointment for a cleaning.”
OK. Now I am embarrassed. A cleaning? I thought I was pretty clean. Oh, man. This is embarrassing. How much more vulnerable can you be? Lying pretty much naked on a table and then your doctor has his receptionist call and schedule you for a cleaning? I didn’t even know there were such things. I’ve never heard of this before.
“A cleaning?”
“Yes. We were wondering if you would like to come in. We can take you tomorrow if you’d like.”
So apparently this is an emergency of sorts. Should I be ashamed of this? What’s going on? Is there some womanly secret to cleaning that area that my mother never told me about? It seems hardly fair to judge me for that.
“So, like . . . do I need one?”
“Well, our records show that its been a year since your last one, and its advisable to have at least one cleaning per year.”
What? I don’t remember having a cleaning. Except . . . .
Frick. Dr. MAY. Now I remember. He’s my fricking dentist.
Anyway. Back to my story.
So as some of you know, I’ve been having some trouble with some areas of my body which some people have, in the past, taught me to refer to as my “private parts.” This is why I have warned the boys not to read this – I think It may get pretty graphic. Anyway, I got an appointment with my doctor, but she wasn’t available, so I had to see this guy who I don’t normally have. And we talked and we did some tests which were uncomfortable and all that and we were waiting for some of the special results.
I was, I can admit, more than a bit nervous about this whole deal because I have lately become terrified of any medical complication more serious than a hangnail. So . . . literally . . . neurotic me, every time the phone rang and it was a number I didn’t recognize I got a bit jumpy expecting bad news of test results.
So I got probed by this strange new doctor on Friday and then on Tuesday got this phone call.
“May I speak to Sebrina please?”
“Yes, this is me.”
“This is Dr. May’s office.”
Hello. My heart is starting to pound and I am starting to get worried. They said that they would only call if the tests indicated something was going on, so this is not a good sign. I am a bit jumpy at this point.
“Ok.”
“We are calling to ask if you would like to make an appointment for a cleaning.”
OK. Now I am embarrassed. A cleaning? I thought I was pretty clean. Oh, man. This is embarrassing. How much more vulnerable can you be? Lying pretty much naked on a table and then your doctor has his receptionist call and schedule you for a cleaning? I didn’t even know there were such things. I’ve never heard of this before.
“A cleaning?”
“Yes. We were wondering if you would like to come in. We can take you tomorrow if you’d like.”
So apparently this is an emergency of sorts. Should I be ashamed of this? What’s going on? Is there some womanly secret to cleaning that area that my mother never told me about? It seems hardly fair to judge me for that.
“So, like . . . do I need one?”
“Well, our records show that its been a year since your last one, and its advisable to have at least one cleaning per year.”
What? I don’t remember having a cleaning. Except . . . .
Frick. Dr. MAY. Now I remember. He’s my fricking dentist.
Wednesday, March 29, 2006
Zac, this one's especially for you
Religious Cell Phones
Also . . . I've added a link to your right (no, Dave . . . your other right) called "Letters at Large." It tells of the exploits of a Winnipeg student who, while he is bored in classes, writes inane letters to different companies. He posts both his letters and his replies. Some are quite amusing. Check it out.
Bre
Also . . . I've added a link to your right (no, Dave . . . your other right) called "Letters at Large." It tells of the exploits of a Winnipeg student who, while he is bored in classes, writes inane letters to different companies. He posts both his letters and his replies. Some are quite amusing. Check it out.
Bre
Monday, March 27, 2006
12 days of festivas
so i am a bit ashamed and intrigued by the fact that i can't seem to write a cognizant complete article on this blog without shifting back and fourth from a million different subjects. today i think i have figured out this problem. its that i write these at work where i am pressed for time and have a million things to do during my short breaks. just like right now. well, not really a break, but i'm waiting for my wonderful friend kara to pick me up to show me a night on the town.
"bring it around town, bring it around tooooowwwwwnnnn." -Spongebob Squarepants
so until i have a good amount of time to actually sit and think, i think i will have to simply attack you with short jabs of thoughts a la much music. sorry about that.
do you know that Spongebob Squarepants in french is Bob Esponja? isn't that great?
so these are the other things i have been considering today:
1. do i really need these stupid antidepressants? they're expensive and cost me an hours worth of time today.
2. do i really want to let everybody i know know that i take antidepressants?
3. why do i keep typing without erasing the first two points?
4. i read an article today where somebody slammed winnipeg bus drivers for being rude and ignorant. i don't think that is true, and i also think that somebody should stand up for them. but i don't know how.
5. how is it that some days my pants fit great and others i feel like i can barely breathe? does it have to do with the sugar free jones soda i drank yesterday? if so i don't think it was worth it. i don't think my body likes sucralose.
6. why am i so lazy to not reach my pinky over to the shift button in order to capitalize letters?
7. why does my new apartment hate me? last week the fridge stopped working and spoiled my cheese, croissants, and my honey's papusas.
8. why are you even bothering reading this? its sort of pointless.
9. Its Dave's birthday today. yay dave! happy birthday! you are loved and cherished like crazy, even though i don't always tell you. you are the best. i can't think of a more loyal and fun friend that i have ever had and if for some reason you weren't able to speak or move anymore i would totally still hang out with you even though you would have no way of communicating with me becasue that is how important you are to me. enjoy the old muppets, my friend.
10. today i came to the conclusion (realisation?) that i really, really, REALLY need Jesus. Now I just have to figure out how to find him again. I looked behind my bookcase but he wasn't there. forget prayer. its not working. what else should i do?
11. jenn taylor, are you reading this? i adore you and miss you terribly.
12. frick. too many bullets.
Bye, Candace. Have a super time in Haiti. I think you should pretend you are going on survivor and always refer to everything as an immunity challenge. they probably won't know what you are talking about and everybody will probably think you are a loser, but i think it would be worth it.
"bring it around town, bring it around tooooowwwwwnnnn." -Spongebob Squarepants
so until i have a good amount of time to actually sit and think, i think i will have to simply attack you with short jabs of thoughts a la much music. sorry about that.
do you know that Spongebob Squarepants in french is Bob Esponja? isn't that great?
so these are the other things i have been considering today:
1. do i really need these stupid antidepressants? they're expensive and cost me an hours worth of time today.
2. do i really want to let everybody i know know that i take antidepressants?
3. why do i keep typing without erasing the first two points?
4. i read an article today where somebody slammed winnipeg bus drivers for being rude and ignorant. i don't think that is true, and i also think that somebody should stand up for them. but i don't know how.
5. how is it that some days my pants fit great and others i feel like i can barely breathe? does it have to do with the sugar free jones soda i drank yesterday? if so i don't think it was worth it. i don't think my body likes sucralose.
6. why am i so lazy to not reach my pinky over to the shift button in order to capitalize letters?
7. why does my new apartment hate me? last week the fridge stopped working and spoiled my cheese, croissants, and my honey's papusas.
8. why are you even bothering reading this? its sort of pointless.
9. Its Dave's birthday today. yay dave! happy birthday! you are loved and cherished like crazy, even though i don't always tell you. you are the best. i can't think of a more loyal and fun friend that i have ever had and if for some reason you weren't able to speak or move anymore i would totally still hang out with you even though you would have no way of communicating with me becasue that is how important you are to me. enjoy the old muppets, my friend.
10. today i came to the conclusion (realisation?) that i really, really, REALLY need Jesus. Now I just have to figure out how to find him again. I looked behind my bookcase but he wasn't there. forget prayer. its not working. what else should i do?
11. jenn taylor, are you reading this? i adore you and miss you terribly.
12. frick. too many bullets.
Bye, Candace. Have a super time in Haiti. I think you should pretend you are going on survivor and always refer to everything as an immunity challenge. they probably won't know what you are talking about and everybody will probably think you are a loser, but i think it would be worth it.
Thursday, March 16, 2006
no soup for you
i feel pressure to write in order to keep my massive readership happy and satisfied, however, there does not seem to be a whole lot of things which have inspired me lately.
Well, maybe New Orleans.
What should we discuss today? Voluntary Simplicity? Minneapolis? The Congo? Communal living? Urban vs. Rural? There are many things that I am pondering, but none which I think are either particularly intersting to others, or which I have gotten myself to a point of being able to verbalize quite yet. poverty? The ridiculous price of brazzires? the fact that I don't know how to spell brazzires? babies? muppet figurines? The fact that i am really really bad at paying back my friends for muppet figurines? I am a bit ashamed about that one. how to keep daisies alive in my office? The harsh sting of betrayal and mistrust? The blueness of the sky? The sadness I feel that I can't make my easter gorilla make his gorilla noise because the volume is way way too loud and there are some anal people working in my office who wouldn't appreciate that, so he sits on the shelf taunting me with his bunny ears, just waiting and pleading for me to pull on his arm so that he can scream and shout for joy? The oppressive nature of cocoa beans? The stupidity of having a monthly period? The fact that the u.s. is spending billions of dollars on a war but none of health care for its citizens or on reconstruction efforts in new orleans? racism?
alskjdflaiseufjlaseikjflasiefuj
how can i fix the world when there are so many things wrong with it? it seems a large task. oh, well.
otherwise. ramble ramble ramble. i am determined to take up my entire legally-required break today since i haven't taken one in a long time. technically i think its pretty much over. but first i want to make a little face sticking out his tongue.
:-p
Well, maybe New Orleans.
What should we discuss today? Voluntary Simplicity? Minneapolis? The Congo? Communal living? Urban vs. Rural? There are many things that I am pondering, but none which I think are either particularly intersting to others, or which I have gotten myself to a point of being able to verbalize quite yet. poverty? The ridiculous price of brazzires? the fact that I don't know how to spell brazzires? babies? muppet figurines? The fact that i am really really bad at paying back my friends for muppet figurines? I am a bit ashamed about that one. how to keep daisies alive in my office? The harsh sting of betrayal and mistrust? The blueness of the sky? The sadness I feel that I can't make my easter gorilla make his gorilla noise because the volume is way way too loud and there are some anal people working in my office who wouldn't appreciate that, so he sits on the shelf taunting me with his bunny ears, just waiting and pleading for me to pull on his arm so that he can scream and shout for joy? The oppressive nature of cocoa beans? The stupidity of having a monthly period? The fact that the u.s. is spending billions of dollars on a war but none of health care for its citizens or on reconstruction efforts in new orleans? racism?
alskjdflaiseufjlaseikjflasiefuj
how can i fix the world when there are so many things wrong with it? it seems a large task. oh, well.
otherwise. ramble ramble ramble. i am determined to take up my entire legally-required break today since i haven't taken one in a long time. technically i think its pretty much over. but first i want to make a little face sticking out his tongue.
:-p
Thursday, March 02, 2006
Monday, February 27, 2006
So my great aunt thrice removed from my mother's side visited me at my office the other day. She was a welcome break and companion even though she was wrinkly and fuzzy and smelled a bit of moth balls. however, for some reason she did not particularly enjoy posing for the camera. The only features she would allow to be photographed were her eyes and cool dreadlocks.
anyway, i thought you may be interested in knowing a little bit about my great aunt thrice removed's history and life up until february 24, 2006.
Marpheus Mcfee III was born in the beautiful okanoganiopian valley of beautiful Canada in 1863. However, she decided to ditch the beautiful province of beautiful ontario because the tuition at beautiful ontario universities were far too ridiculously high. So, after investing 13 years of her life in high school (yes, it took her 13 years to complete high school. ha, ha) she moved to beautiful manitoba, where tuition is far too ridiculous on the other side of things, and due to that there is often no toilet paper in the washrooms. "Oh, well. I can always use my cat to wipe myself," says Marpheus, who is an eternal optimist, and altogether not understanding what God really gave us cats to do (which, as everybody except for Marpheus knows, is eat mice, look pretty, make people sneeze and be eaten by dogs).
Once she completed her cheap degree at the University of Under-Fundedness in the urban bowels of beautiful winnipeg, Marpheus Mcfee decided to follow her dreams to . . . Norway? No, silly. Europe? No. Asia? No. All of them put together. It was only on the plane to NOrway that Marpheus realized that her true calling was in stopping global conglomerates in selling unsuspecting students cheap garbage at stores such as future shop and Wal-Mart. "Who cares about poor children in Thailand?" complained Marpheus' seat-mate, Gordon Bush. "I refuse to spend more than 29 cents for a pair of jeans. Its my right as an American!" Marphus gives complete credit to the Spirit of God that this gentleman is still alive, as she is amazed that she did not strangle him then and there.
Marphus landed in China, and then realized that her brake was over, so she had to stop typing.
Tuesday, February 07, 2006
Monday, February 06, 2006
don't read this
it is so much easier to go to work when it is light outside. i'm not sure why, but it just seems so cheery.
i had a good talk with a friend last week over some thai food (mmmm...thai food) which was great, but altogether made me feel like i was once again stuck right into the sink hole that i keep thinking i escaped. (it is haunting me probably as much as the bad grammer in the previous sentence is haunting Corrina, queen of the womb.) i CANNOT reconcile things. i cannot see a way out of this which keeps a personal God in the equation. I cannot watch a play such as Pentecostal Wisdonsin without losing faith in a God who claims to respond to our longings for him. i cannot ignore the freedom i have seen in people's lives once they have left Christianity. i cannot reconcile a personal god with the reality of this dark world.
strange that the car accident that i had last year is my best source of hope. even with the above, i cannot accept that the guy who dug us out, who took us to his church, who took care of us was there by chance. The only reason he was there was becuase of a fungal infection. Good story, which also raises good questions. I'll leave that one for later.
but it gives me hope.
organic food gives me hope, too. more on this later.
and good friends. a huge thanks to B.N. and his email. this gives me hope. that there are those like me who can search and wonder and cry but still, somehow, remain true to our God throughout it all. I hope i am doing that. God, I pray I am doing that.
i had a good talk with a friend last week over some thai food (mmmm...thai food) which was great, but altogether made me feel like i was once again stuck right into the sink hole that i keep thinking i escaped. (it is haunting me probably as much as the bad grammer in the previous sentence is haunting Corrina, queen of the womb.) i CANNOT reconcile things. i cannot see a way out of this which keeps a personal God in the equation. I cannot watch a play such as Pentecostal Wisdonsin without losing faith in a God who claims to respond to our longings for him. i cannot ignore the freedom i have seen in people's lives once they have left Christianity. i cannot reconcile a personal god with the reality of this dark world.
strange that the car accident that i had last year is my best source of hope. even with the above, i cannot accept that the guy who dug us out, who took us to his church, who took care of us was there by chance. The only reason he was there was becuase of a fungal infection. Good story, which also raises good questions. I'll leave that one for later.
but it gives me hope.
organic food gives me hope, too. more on this later.
and good friends. a huge thanks to B.N. and his email. this gives me hope. that there are those like me who can search and wonder and cry but still, somehow, remain true to our God throughout it all. I hope i am doing that. God, I pray I am doing that.
Wednesday, February 01, 2006
Sunday, January 29, 2006
I ain't nothing but a hound dog
So the day after the Conservatives get voted in, the Beliveau bus is severely late.
Coincedence? I think not.
ahhh. my heart grieves for the future of this country.
Anyway. enough of the drama. I'll give Stephen Harper a chance. Mostly 'cause I have no other choice. oh well.
enough of this politics crap. let's talk about real things. like weddings. no, not mine. goodness everybody settle down; all in due time. this week has been a week full of wedding stuff for odie's wedding. gotta say the crapulent wedding show was quite crapulent. do you know how much it costs to release doves at your wedding? Like hundreds of dollars. and its not like the company loses the doves; they just fly back to them. ridiculous. and do you know that you can take pole dancing lessons? sweet. janie and i are signed up already. we got the "lower extrematies deal." You can learn how to pole dance, lap dance, AND discover your pelvis. anybody want to join? no, NO BOYS ALLOWED.
Do i even have a pelvis? pelvis rhymes with Elvis. I think there are more pictures of Elvis in my parent's house than there are pictures of me. oh well. Maybe if I die of a self-inflicted drug overdose my parents will pay more attention to me.
JUST KIDDING MOM. I LOVE YOU DEARLY.
Just random thoughts.
Million dollar question: who sings this song lyric? "Heaven has a ring around you." Hint. one of my fav bands, although sometimes the lyrics are pretty cheesy.
God is so fricking intangible and that depresses me this week. Its all so complicated. I don't even know what it means to follow Him anymore, or to love Him or to serve Him. Any ideas?
Bre
Coincedence? I think not.
ahhh. my heart grieves for the future of this country.
Anyway. enough of the drama. I'll give Stephen Harper a chance. Mostly 'cause I have no other choice. oh well.
enough of this politics crap. let's talk about real things. like weddings. no, not mine. goodness everybody settle down; all in due time. this week has been a week full of wedding stuff for odie's wedding. gotta say the crapulent wedding show was quite crapulent. do you know how much it costs to release doves at your wedding? Like hundreds of dollars. and its not like the company loses the doves; they just fly back to them. ridiculous. and do you know that you can take pole dancing lessons? sweet. janie and i are signed up already. we got the "lower extrematies deal." You can learn how to pole dance, lap dance, AND discover your pelvis. anybody want to join? no, NO BOYS ALLOWED.
Do i even have a pelvis? pelvis rhymes with Elvis. I think there are more pictures of Elvis in my parent's house than there are pictures of me. oh well. Maybe if I die of a self-inflicted drug overdose my parents will pay more attention to me.
JUST KIDDING MOM. I LOVE YOU DEARLY.
Just random thoughts.
Million dollar question: who sings this song lyric? "Heaven has a ring around you." Hint. one of my fav bands, although sometimes the lyrics are pretty cheesy.
God is so fricking intangible and that depresses me this week. Its all so complicated. I don't even know what it means to follow Him anymore, or to love Him or to serve Him. Any ideas?
Bre
Monday, January 16, 2006
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