OOoohhh Gravity...

(Image taken from Google)

John Mayer says it best sometimes. I want gravity to stay the hell away from me - as far away as possible. Adam said it in the car the other day, "I feel as if the world is crashing around me, everything is so unstable". And he's right - those words echo my everyday thoughts. There's an economic career crash in Ottawa, jobs are being lost left, right and center. At every turn a department is going through cutbacks - another person is on unemployment insurance. As this is happening I wonder if my generation will ever experience the loyalty of a secure job - the loyalty of a company. My older co-workers have all put their 15, 20, 30 years into the hospital and they will be rewarded upon retirement with a solid pension and the years they invested. I have a feeling this will not be the same in the future. There is an entire generation of young, fresh, graduates waiting to take on the world and only being offered minimum wage positions - if that. Most of the young population suffers the fate of the cartoon in this post.

I am very fortunate. Unlike the image above, I am not in any kind of serious debt (okay, so my VISA has a couple of bucks on it from a minor shopping addiction I may or may not have.... big deal) but thousands of dollars in the negatives is beyond my comprehension. But the reality is that many are feeling the effects of student loan. With no job prospects, a heavy debt, and very little hope of a secure career, they are being forced to move back home and numbed into acceptance of the jobless world. It's sad that our generation is not encouraged, the future of this country depends on us and yet very little is being done to improve the situations. More and more jobs are more demanding - either you're under qualified because no one is willing to give you experience or you're over-qualified because you've been let go from a previous, more prosperous position. Canadians, and especially Ontarians, can't seem to win. One degree isn't good enough anymore. Thousands of dollars spent, four years of agonizing study, and at the end to be rewarded with a paper that still doesn't qualify you for real life. The majority of graduates walk away and into positions unrelated to their degrees. I often consider my own time at University more of a hobby study than anything else simply because I'm not hire-able based on it. There are moments where I feel that I flushed close to $30K down the toilet. Of course I would always encourage education as I feel it is truly a gift and privilege many go without but it's hard not to be discouraged.

I'm curious to see the progression over the next few years. Cost of living rising, hardly an increase in minimum wage, and real estate exploding, I'm anxious to see the results. I truly hope Ottawa - and not just Ottawa, but Canada in general - can pick up the pieces and restore hope to it's youth. Remember, government, you'll be dependent on us one day. 

Chapters

(Photo Credit: Taken in El Paso, Texas, by Chandra Nunes)

As I sit here, staring at a blank screen and a beige, dirty coloured wall behind it, I can't help but let my mind wander.The beeping of phone lines, the clicking of keyboards, and the shouting voices calling from one room to the next easily fade as I drift into a mere semi-conscious state. The monotony of the day and the tasks that go with it are what carry me to a world I once knew but no longer exists.

Do you remember high school? Because I do. I can almost smell, touch, and taste all the familiar memories. The perfume I once wore, the rough desk chairs, the $1.00 cookies we used to buy in the morning at the cafeteria... it's so real and yet untouchable, like it never existed. I remember the conversations, the concerns, the classes. It was a long time ago that I was fifteen, almost ten years now. The older I grow, the farther away it becomes, as with all things.

I didn't particularly enjoy high school while I was there. There were a lot of tears, fighting, hormonal changes, and stressful homework. I hated math, I had as many enemies as I had friends, and the days seemed long. There was a time when all I thought about were the horrors of my teen years but I'm finding it harder and harder to remember those things.

I remember that I was skinny, despite that I didn't know it then, I had faithful friends, good grades, and a solid outlook on the future. All I wanted was to get out and move onto University. That was my goal and it seemed like it would never happen. I thought I'd be with my high school sweetheart forever, that I'd be married by the time I was twenty-three (to my fifteen year old self, that was ancient), I'd have a successful career ahead of me, and I would be travelling the globe forever a roamer. I had an untainted perspective, no fear, and a fire that burned so deep for love, art, travel, books and God. I was unashamed of anything I believed in, unafraid to speak it loudly to the people around me, and a hopeful eye for improving myself and helping others reach their potential. Of course, that same person still lives within me. The light is dimmer, or perhaps I'm just more refined, learned the ways of the outside world and how to live within it. My whole world was really only my classrooms and the people I spent time with outside of those rooms. It was a very small world.

Since those days I've come through a little bit, I'd say. I've dealt and now managing a hormone disorder, I've graduated high school, I've graduated University, I've floated through different jobs, I've landed myself a full time position, I've sifted through boyfriends, gained experience as a youth minister, I've left youth ministry, I've joined other churches, I've saved more money than I ever thought possible, I've been on an archaeological dig, I've travelled to Europe and back, I've wandered through some of the States, and I've bought and sold a car. I've made friends in a different country, I've said goodbye to old ones, I've lost and gained weight, I've torn ligaments, I've lost a pet, I've gained two more, I've dyed my hair, I've cut my hair, and maybe I've grown a few centimetres too.

Through it all, through thick and thin, I've found people I can count on. I've lived, laughed, and loved with them and as our journey moves forward they remind me why I don't hate high school as much as I thought I did. It's because it was there, in that small building, I cultivated some of the most precious friendships I'll ever have.

"What are men compared to rocks and mountains?"

(Photo of: my mess. Photo Credit: Anjuli Baldwin.)

Pride and Prejudice always knows what to say. Jane Austen was a true genius. Because what are men compared to rocks and mountains? They are most certainly not the serene picture of rolling hills, tumbling rocks, and looming mountains. Nature brings my mind peace whereas men, and I would venture to guess this would apply to most women, bring about an eye twitch. No, I'm not writing this because my love life has come crashing down like Jenga, but just simply stating the truth of human nature and making a redundant, already obvious statement. Perhaps this thought was risen up by the indulgence of watching Eat, Pray, Love, which to be honest I'm not terribly fond of. However the concept is tempting, lures women in like flies to a Venus Fly Trap, only to be swallowed slowly and painfully. Or maybe it's more like a Pitcher Plant, drawn to the taste of a honey-like substance, disguised as a treat of ecstasy, only to drown in a puddle of sweet nectar. Brutal, I know. Elizabeth Gilbert is a good writer indeed and her travels interesting but evil in nature as it invokes the same desire within myself, and I am sure many women, to just abandon life as we know it to seek oneself in food, nature and a romantic love affair in a far off land. How cliché.

My desire to abandon everything is less extreme. I'm not about to pick up, leave my boyfriend, and just ditch my job and family in pursuit of a "higher power" or "myself". I already know myself and I'm already rather acquainted with a higher power. I'm also not miserable in my relationship nor am I suicidal (like Liz Gilbert was post-divorce before she gallivanted off to Italy). Simply, my life is monotonous. I wake up everyday at the same time, I go to a job I less than love, and I come home at 3pm only to crash for a quick nap before I spend time with my boyfriend or friends doing the same thing we always do. I'm always exhausted, I'm always waiting for the weekend, I'm always counting down the days till my next vacation or long weekend, I'm always wondering about the future and I'm always thinking about how can I get myself out of this meaningless job. Is school the answer? It would certainly help get better positions in my field of interest but that's not exactly a guarantee either. Is running away to a foreign country the answer? Maybe. But then again, that's just running away from life and the real world. And what would I do when I came home? Resume my old life?

The picture of my easel and paints reflects my mind. A chaotic disaster, scattered across a large surface area. That's what my thoughts look like. A little organized, a little messy, a little artsy, a whole lot of crazy. Someone once told me they saw me in a the middle of a tornado - I was the eye of the storm - and the clouds of fury were made up of colour, representing emotion, and I was plucking them from the chaos. A sort of prophecy, so to speak, given to me very many years ago. I still haven't a clue what it means. I don't exactly feel like the eye of the storm as life swirls around me. There's certainly a lack of calm where I stand. Most of the time I feel part of the winding winds.

But maybe that's just life. A crazy whirlwind that passes quickly through the night and you can only squeeze your eyes shut and hope you land somewhere between normal and crazy.

Dipping my toes in the water...

(Photo Credit: King's College Chapel - found on Google Images :))

What a beautiful piece of architecture. Much less boring than the schools we have kicking around Canada - last time I checked Carleton didn't look like a fortress or a medieval church. Although King's College is only a place I could dream of attending, being an Ivy League equivalent my guess is that an average student from Ottawa, Ontario wouldn't be so welcome there. Such is life.

Although, there are other Universities that may consider my only average grades. So I suppose here this latest update of my ever-changing life: I am applying for my Master's in England. Yes, I may spend close to $40,000. Yes, I may pack up and move across the ocean for a year. Yes, I may be giving up my permanent, full-time job with benefits and 4 weeks vacation.Yes, I may put myself through torture even the Spanish Inquisition couldn't imagine. Yes, I may be giving up my dream of being a home owner for at least the next few years. Yes, I am that crazy.

And... that's that?

No, not really. Going overseas to the UK has been a dream I've never fully forgotten since as long as I can remember. With my horrendous experience last year applying to Carleton's graduate program in Anthropology I had basically given up and figured my grades wouldn't be accepted anywhere and I wasn't really looking to be rejected like that again. (When I say rejected, it wasn't just a nice formal letter in the mail ((which I didn't even receive)), it was a full confrontation from the vice-president of Anthropology Graduate studies in which she accused me of late application (which I hadn't), of being an idiot for trying, and wasting her time because she "had better things to do"). Don't mistake the word "confrontation" to mean that I battled with her. Unlike my usual character, I let her rip me apart as I stood in her doorway after, very nicely, asking when we would be receiving acceptance or rejection letters. Probably one of the worst experiences with administration I've ever had (and I basically work in an administration environment). As far as I'm concerned, that woman should be fired for not only being unprofessional but attacking an undergraduate student (verbally) during her final month of 4th year University. Last time I checked, it is the students who pay her salary. But this is an entirely different rant that maybe I'll post another day. (Sue McColeman, if you happen to be reading this, I'm sure you're interested and I will have to tell you about it sometime).

But, I digress! It turns out, a B average isn't so bad in the UK! I signed up with an organization called "Study Across the Pond" which sets up students with advisers who help guide and facilitate the application process. According to my assigned advisor I not only have a fighting chance of acceptance but even a, dare I say, good chance. Now it's time to decide where to go and the options are endless.

So, I haven't given up! With the... prompting of a special boyfriend of mine, I've decided not to let that evil woman destroy my confidence, especially since someone I've never met, who's only seen my grades and resume has a spark of hope for me. So fingers crossed and here's to possible adventures!

Now time to find reference letters.... this should be oh-so-joyous.

Apples will be Apples

(Photo Credit: Indie and Ollie, taken by me)

When I was little I had a bad habit of ordering people around. Usually this landed on my unsuspecting sister once she was old enough to walk and understand me but it didn't particular matter who it was, just whoever happened to be available. It was something as simple as ordering Rachel to get me an apple from the fridge, or telling a classmate not to screw up so I didn't have to give him another eraser. (We had "eraser duty" and took turns handing them out, I being the kind individual that I am, handed a crumb of an eraser to one poor child and when he protested merely reacted with a haughty, "Well, then just don't make any mistakes!"). I suppose this trait probably made me a bit of a bratty child, and by a bit I mean a lot, but over the years this specific niche in my personality greatly subdued itself.

Maybe not subdued, just adjusted to society and my childhood self has realized I can't order people around so I don't have to fetch an apple from the fridge. I'm pretty sure I would've been punched in highschool if my attitude had carried into adolescent life.

Adjusted is almost the right word. I've pressed down my urge to control every situation, and I've even overcome some obstacles and managed to let go of things I had trouble holding onto. I'm not so much of a control freak anymore, at least not obviously. My inner self still battles, still fights to cling to something tangible in which I can get my grimy little hands on to manipulate. That sounds so evil but I promise it isn't. The control has manifested into fear. It disguises itself so I can't see it, so I can't get rid of it, so it can infiltrate my life and the control begins to control me. All I see is fear, and my fear leads me to digging up histories, my own, other people's, and the obsession of knowledge overtakes me and the obsession of finding out the past to predict the future takes over until I am so wound up I develop eye-twitches. And I spiral inwards down a dark hole and all I can see is a lot of self-hatred and a lot of desperation.

Something as stupid as ordering someone to get me an apple has turned into an internal battle of self-worth and fear. The fear of losing control and allowing someone to hurt me can ruin my life. But controlling people, relationships, my career, my entire future, is about as fruitless as trying to control the two terrorist kitties you see sleeping in the picture above. And no one can control those two.

I am aware this is all very shocking news, very unsuspecting of me to have control issues. Everyone is mind-blown. (enter sarcasm here).

But apples will be apples, right?

"I think I'm quite ready for another adventure"....

(Photo Credit: Google Images, Arenal Volcano) 

.... Costa Rica! On a whim, and like most of my trips recently, I found it, bought it and started planning it all in a few hours. A trip to Niagara Falls turned into a nine day tour with G Adventures to Central America. Impressive, no? So it seems the travel bug has not only bitten and infected me, it also won out over reason and logic. My poor Visa is feeling the effects of my impulses.

But isn't life more interesting that way? If everything is so carefully planned and calculated it can suck the excitement right out of it. That's not to say I don't like to plan, I do like a list or two, but that's because I like to use fancy pens and pretty paper. But I find the planning is most fun when it's a spur of the moment decision, like mine to take off to San Jose. Though an impulsive buy, the trip doesn't take place till at least the fall, so I suppose it's not exactly a last minute departure. My trip to Texas was much more last minute, decided and bought about three weeks before we left.

The challenge with this trip will be dodging all of the ailments that come with it. Malaria, Cholera, Dengue Fever and various forms of Hepatitis. If you don't know anything about me, as much as I love to travel and I love food, travel and food are not things that love my stomach. I have a finicky digestive system, plagued with lactose intolerance and IBS whenever it feels like flaring up. So travel mixed with foreign foods has never been good to me. I usually end up mildly uncomfortable for most of the trip but nothing significant enough to put a damper on the experience. Cholera is probably one of those trip-ruining things, and as the description of it says:

"The diarrhea starts suddenly, and pours out of you. It's characteristically described as 'rice water' diarrhea because it is watery and flecked with white mucus. Vomiting and muscle cramps are usual, but fever is rare. In its most serious form, it causes a massive outpouring of fluid (up to 20L a day)."

Can't say that sounds exciting. The phrase: pours out of you... something about that makes me rather uncomfortable.Of course, explosive diarrhea is only one of the concerns, I'd rather that than Malaria. But, the chance of small danger makes it that much more of an adventure. I'm actually going somewhere outside of the Western world as I know it. I've been to Europe a few times and the States plenty but this is a culture I've never experienced before. Sure, it's still part of the Americas, sits on the same continent as I do, but an entirely different world none-the-less. I am so excited it's all I can think about. For as long as I can remember Costa Rica was on my top "places" lists. I mean, the world is on my life list of places to see, but I've always been drawn to that place in particular, out of anywhere tropical anyway.

The dates have yet to be solidified but as the plans form I'll be sure to post with updates. Not only am I travelling to an unknown world, I finally have found someone who is willing to take it on with me.

A Nebraskan Jaunt

(Photo Credit: Google Images - Andy Lim)

As beautiful and ceremonious as they are - many people hate weddings. Probably because it reminds them of their own misery, whether it be loneliness or some kind of hatred towards the opposite sex and the idea of "forever". I, on the other hand, like weddings. I will agree that the cost of a wedding is outrageous and unnecessary and there is definitely too much emphasis on the whole "show" of it all but I like it all the same. I can't help but look at wedding themes and dresses and rings and venues and food and decoration... it's attractive. Especially to a woman in her 20s and during wedding season. Most female friends of mine also spend some of their time surfing the web browsing through wedding websites and photos. The market is definitely geared towards women - to suck us into believing we need the whole she-bang to be happy and have the perfect day. And as much as I've admitted to being a victim of all the advertising... my own wedding will probably not resemble anything like the fairytale TLC broadcasts or the picturesque image theknot.com has created. Hopefully, someday, my own wedding will reflect what I witnessed this past weekend - a couple truly dedicated to one another, binding themselves as one under the authority of God in love and devotion.

The ceremony was beautiful. Amanda glowed as she floated down the isle and the pure joy on Scott's face will forever be ingrained in my memory. Young couple, young romance, but a romance that will stand the tests of time, I am certain of it. There was no question of doubt or uncertainty in their minds, it was obvious they knew they were meant to be. The pastor's speech was not for the congregation but rather for the bride and groom. It was personal, it was heartfelt, and it was honest. The words he spoke were true. He discussed the highs and lows of a marriage, the reality that not always things will be perfect, and he drove home the importance of love and co-operation. The submission of a wife to her husband and in turn, the submission of the husband to his wife. No one likes the words submission and I am one of them. The idea of submitting to someone else irks me and immediately I am uncomfortable. I blame the era for this - the individualistic mentality of society and the greed which surrounds it. Despite this discomfort, it's true. When marrying someone you are putting someone else first. You are committing to being one person - a whole - and that takes submission. It was beautifully said. The pastor's words to Scott were, "This is a serious calling - The Bible is calling you to love your wife the way Jesus loves his church...which means to lay down your life for her's as Jesus died for his people". That statement hit hard. The truth of it was moving as I sat there and realized that Scott would willingly die for Amanda in a heartbeat. The tears were swelling in my eyes and I noticed Brittany sniffling away beside me. It was beautiful.

My short trip to Nebraska was engulfed by the wedding - we didn't really do much except browse the mall and hang out with Amanda, but that is exactly what I wanted it to be. I wanted it to be a trip dedicated to a friend who was making the ultimate sacrifice - marriage. She gave herself up as an individual to be united with Scott forever. That is one of the most admirable acts one can witness and I don't think many people realize the importance of such an act. I know I didn't until this weekend.



As an aside, my baby died a year ago today. I thought long and hard about whether I would write a post dedicated to him or not and I decided not. Just a small tribute at the end of an uplifting message to let him know I haven't forgotten. I miss you everyday, Ginger, you were my little furry life companion. xox