Yesterday, after 12 weeks of being on strike, I went back to work. Actually, I went in on Sunday for half a day. HR had called on Saturday informing me that I was going to act as the head of my department until the new guy comes towards the end of November, and that I was invited to attend a managers/supervisors meeting on Sunday that gave direction on what the priorities are and how to prepare for opening to the public.

The meeting was professionally conducted, but the tone with which management spoke was subdued, quiet, even contrite, if I may say so. A few people returning to work presented themselves neutrally or with some excitement to get back to work, but most others wore grim, black expressions on their faces, smouldering silently. The room was thick with tension and distrust.

I suppose this state of things is only natural given how long the strike went on for and all the negative effects that came out from that. There is a lot of healing needed for employer-employee relations, and even among union members. Last Friday, when I learned that my union ratified the 2nd deal, I burst into tears, feeling absolutely conflicted about going back to work and letting the full impact of feeling helpless hit me in a way that I had managed to avoid the past three months.

Here are some things I learned while being on a lengthy strike:

• it is undignifying NOT to be able to work. After two weeks into it, my sense of worth and purpose became threatened in a way I had not expected. While I like my job a lot, I thought I had a pretty good handle on not letting my life revolve around my work. But the strike revealed to me that a good part of myself needs to be productive and to know that I am contributing to society in some way.
• people are incredibly generous and resilient in a time of trial. The members of my union showed me this by the way we shared resources, encouraged each other on the picket line, and participated in creative, community-building activities while on strike duty. I got to know a lot of my co-workers more personally while we picketed together. I felt very blessed by their openness to me to being known.
• I have options with what to do with my life. Prior to the strike, I had gotten into a comfortable (and in hindsight, unfulfilling) rut in the routine of my life. There have been some things I have been wanting to pursue (like go back to school) but have not had the courage to make the necessary and radical changes in my life to really pursue them.
• I can handle the stress and discomfort of living on very limited financial means. I’m not saying that I enjoy going into debt or anything sadistic like that, but I did learn to live on very little and came to appreciate the generosity of my family and close friends. God provided the necessities, just at the right time. But having said all that, I really hate being in debt. I still can’t believe that I’ve lost a quarter of my wages this year.
• I am still marketable.
• I can still give, even if I have very little.
• How to increase and decrease in knitting.
• That many of my co-workers love to play Scrabble and play it very well.

Okay, that’s all for now. I could go on.

I detest fruit flies. They multiply so quickly and easily that they feel like a plague invading my living space.

Since Saturday, I have been intensely focussed on getting rid of them from my apartment. Found the source yesterday in an unlikely place: in a basket of dry goods. Someone accidentally dropped a couple of blueberries there … they oozed through the weave of the basket, creating a hidden breeding ground. Yuck.

I had some people over for breakfast on Saturday–blueberries were served. I suspect that some baby or toddler might have randomly made the drop.

Last night, I amazingly noticed a dried dark spot on the serving table resulting from the ooze. I say amazingly, because the spot looks like a knot in the wood. I picked up the basket and noticed another more gummy spot of the same purple-blue colour … this was where the eggs were being laid. Double yuck. I salvaged the basket by running hot water through the affected areas to melt the sugary goop away.

Then I set out a couple traps … one with balsamic vinegar and the other with red wine. The fruit flies loved the wine. I called Dot to see how she was dealing with her fruit fly problem. She uses banana peel, and her landlord upstairs uses rum.

My mom swears by Heinz vinegar. She tried using President’s Choice vinegar as a cheaper alternative, but it is apparently not the same.

My traps caught a couple more tonight (a recently finished bottle of red wine with a smidge of liquid at the bottom works well), and I am only too aware of at least one remaining somewhere in my apartment. I am paranoid that the flies have found another breeding ground unbeknownst to me. I really hope that’s not the case though.

Ooohh, I feel so grossed out.

Gosh, where do I begin? Without making this post a gripe-fest?

Okay, let’s be descriptive for starters: I have been on strike for over seven weeks–one month and 22 days to be exact. Every week, I put in a minimum of 20 hours of picketing to qualify for a maximum of $250 of strike pay. What I do on the picket line depends on the picketing site. At the downtown branch, I try to walk for two-thirds of my shift, and spend the rest sitting down. While I walk, I usually take the opportunity catching up with or getting to know co-workers. When I sit, I either join in on a conversation, read, or knit. Sometimes, I will sign up for sitting at the registration or public information table to inform the public about what our issues are and what the media is not reporting.

Typically, a picketing shift is four hours. We are allowed to do two shifts (i.e. eight hours) a day. I prefer not to picket outdoors for an entire day, so I either will picket only for half a day or put in hours at strike HQ to help with administrative duties. Picketing is exhausting. Being exposed to the sun and wind saps more energy than one might think. My approach to filling my hours is to pace myself because I can’t afford to get sick or injured.

Essentials for a picketing shift: small backpack, water, sunscreen, walking shoes, windbreaker, something warm to wear, lip protection, portable time-passer (book, yarn/needles), snacks, sunglasses, cap, positive spirit (though that’s not always possible to procure). I can’t seem to get the hang of how much water to drink. Am often dehydrated.

I live extremely close to a branch (a minute’s walk), and fortunately for me, union members decided to establish a picketing site there a few weeks ago. So I’ve been picketing there as well. There isn’t much space to walk because branch is part of a mall and we are careful not to obstruct entrances to other businesses. I’ve been doing 20-40% of my hours there. Typically, I will read, knit, converse, or play Scrabble there. Occasionally, I will solicit signatures for a petition addressed to the City to end the civic strike by bargaining in good faith (which the City has NOT been doing).

Okay, better stop for now. I can feel my heart beating faster and my blood pressure starting to rise. When I calm down, I’ll be writing about some things I’ve learned from the past couple months. Isn’t that the point of living through hard times?

… to Facebook at last. For various reasons (which I won’t get into here), I made a point of staying away from it.  But lately, I’m finding that so many of my good friends are using (and therefore, making the effort via) FB to share significant things about their lives (like grads, weddings, travel) that it would be a shame for me to protest the trend on principle, and miss out on what’s going on. And of course, I’m nosy too. I am absolutely fascinated by social networks, by who-knows-who.

So until I figure out what the Facebook medium is best for, I may be a bit spotty on blogging here, else I will be on the computer way more than is healthy for a human being. But I shall return. Nothing beats the sense of being “published” on a blog.

One thing I really like about FB is that it’s waaaaaaay easier to share what I’m reading these days. There is zero coding on FB applications: all you need to do is type in a title or ISBN and the software automatically matches it up to an Amazon record. In WordPress, I need to write HTML in the textbox widgets to insert and link images of book covers. And I have to guesstimate numerical values to make things fit aesthetically, which I don’t really have time for.

Anyways, time to sign off. My eyes are starting to cross.

I’ve been blessed with two incredibly good days.

Yesterday

First of all, it was my day-off. And I was feeling physically well. It was partly spent at Regent College, where Dot and I registered for a writing course to be taught by one of my favourite contemporary writers. Bought my required texts for the course from the very addictive bookstore there and then took the opportunity to check out the newly renovated and expanded library.

Because thefourthpotato happened to lunch at the University Golf Club nearby, we made plans to meet him in the atrium at Regent. He has come all the way from the Land of the Rising Sun to celebrate the J&J wedding this past weekend. Because he’s only staying for two weeks, we’ve been making plans to meet up whenever possible.

We also looked up Joe, who works in the IT department at Regent. He played host to us by treating us all to coffee and tea at The Well, a coffee shop that shares space with the bookstore. As we leisurely sipped our hot beverages, we amused ourselves and each other by talking piffle.

Afterwards Dot, Derek, and I went down to Spanish Banks for a walk. We walked as far as the concession stand, where we picked up some snacks to tide us over to dinner. Then we made our way to the beach, sat on a log to enjoy the view, and talked more nonsense.

Dot and I had an early dinner with Cat and Yvonne at the Rocky Mountain Flatbread Company. Derek came along for the ride and just watched us eat, as he had separate dinner plans. It was my first time there, and I was impressed. The toppings lean towards the gourmet and the crusts are not greasy at all, being made out of flatbread. Because I can’t stand the feeling of grease on my hands, I generally pooh-pooh eating pizza, unless I absolutely have to out of convenience. So I’m happy to know there are options out there for high maintenance people like me.

After dinner, we went to the end-of-the-season Chor Leoni concert held in the Bard on the Beach Mainstage Tent at Vanier Park. It was two and a half hours of good fun and music that I could relive over and over again. I’ve attended a few of their summer concerts over the years, and I notice that the performances have become more choreographed, cheeky, and playful. A very naughty rendition of the panto, “If I Were Not Upon the Stage,” had everyone in stitches. Some special guest appearances: Judith Forst and Dal Richards.

Spent from laughing so hard, Dot and I grabbed a late night snack at a HK cafe where we did some catching up.

So a very satisfying day it was, filled with good friends, books, and music.

I’ll try to write about today tomorrow.

Yesterday, in between social engagements, I amazingly managed to squeeze in a trip to the Park Theatre to watch Once. I was first alerted to this movie by Nick, who asked me to pick up the soundtrack for him in NYC. A low budget production that won an award at the 2007 Sundance Film Fest, this modern day “musical” (if you had to call it something) stars musicians Glen Hansard and Marketa Irglova, who play a Guy and Girl whose relationship develops in a such way that seamlessly and brilliantly integrates the music with the storyline. Visually, it has a very raw and grass roots feel; parts of the film are shot like a documentary. If you like acoustic guitar music and appreciate the creative, collaborative process of music-making, this film is for you (especially you, coko). The music is achingly poignant and expressive, underscored by the unresolved (oh, did I just give it away?), romantic tension in the relationship between Guy and Girl.

Here’s a live performance by Hansard and Irglova of one of the more popular songs from the soundtrack, “Falling Slowly”:

Some things to be glad about:

• I’m getting better by leaps and bounds (no wheezing and coughing this morning!).

• Some good friends, Jo and Jason got married yesterday. At last! If I may say so, they are one of my favourite couples, well-matched in personality and good-looking together. They looked so happy yesterday and really enjoyed themselves. Very happy for them. The best man delivered the best speech I have heard in a loooooong time. To the point, but warm, honest, faintly roasting, and audible. A man of few words, he’s also one of the quietest friends I know, often almost inaudible when conversing or praying. Someone joked that he should carry a mic with him all the time.

• The wedding was a reunion of sorts, bringing together people from faraway places and people who I don’t regularly see.

• Although I was feeling pretty anti-social at the banquet (because I was still wheezing and coughing last night), I got to meet a couple of people I’ve been curious to meet for a while because I’ve been following their blogs.

• Got to try out my new Urban Decay eye palette that Jen brought back for me during a business trip to Florida last week. Although very busy, she kindly made time to go to a Sephora on her lunch break.

Okay, I can recognize goodness without having to feel good. Definitely on the road to recovery.

After two days of fever, I think the worst of the flu is over. Although I’m still coughing and sneezing, whatever has been locked up in my chest is finally moving up into my head and out. At first, I was worried that my health was regressing when fever suddenly appeared after two weeks of being sick, but now, I realize it was a sign that my body was making a concerted effort to rid itself of invasive agents, once and for all. Pow pow! My body is exhausted though, so I am staying home a third day to make sure I stay on the road to recovery. This has been one nasty, nasty strain of flu to battle.

I am thankful for my parents and friends, who have helped me cope by giving me healthy food, carting me around, and even keeping my living space clean. Something to file in my mind to “pass it on.”

I’m suffering an unusual amount of internal pain these days, both physically and emotionally. I’ve been sick for about 2 weeks now … can’t seem to rid myself of this persistent cough. Also, I am living through some pretty big changes in my life. My workplace has been Head-less since late April, and the congregation I’m part of has recently become pastor-less. Both of these situations means more work for me which, I suppose, is only a natural consequence of change, and of course, duty calls. But I also sense the spirit of resentment creeping up on me because much of what I am doing these days feels merely like maintenance, rather than working towards a vision. These days, I am unsure of what my life is about, how best to direct my time and energy, and why I do what I do. Somehow, I seem to have lost focus or purpose in my life.

Not a fun place to be for a person who likes to have a reason for everything. God help me.

While I didn’t like how the trilogy His Dark Materials turned out, nor do I subscribe to Philip Pullman’s theology, I *did* enjoy reading The Golden Compass. The premise and fantasy world established is fascinatingly unique; his characterizations and plot development in this first book gripped me to the point of sacrificing a night’s rest so I could finish reading it in one sitting. A movie, based on the first book, is being made (starring Daniel Craig, Nicole Kidman, Eva Green), to be released on December 7, 2007. I am very curious to see it. It will be controversial, especially among conservative religious circles.

Anyways, I was alerted to this bit of movie marketing by ziasudra, where you get to figure out what your daemon is. Mine is a gibbon named Thalius. Great. (If you’ve really got nothing better to do, feel free to comment on my results. Very possibly, your input might morph it into something else.)

I’ve been sick the entire week beginning last weekend. Came down with a sore throat, which has developed into a persistent cough. Getting sick is not a surprise to me, because I was really worn out from my trip. In fact, I noticed some lymph nodes swelling up during my last few days in NYC. My doctor couldn’t really tell what was wrong with me … he just put me on some antibiotics and sent me in for some blood work. Went back to work for a couple days, but by Thursday, it became clear to me that I was getting worse, not better, so I went home early and then took yesterday off to rest properly.

Hence, I’ve been doing a lot of reading, lying down, because I notice that I have fewer coughing fits on my back. Finished The Namesake this morning, and now moving onto Volume 7 of the Tin Tin 3 Complete Adventures in 1 Volume series.

During my time in NYC, I managed to squeeze in a visit to The Strand, an pretty amazing secondhand bookstore. Picked up the two books mentioned earlier, as well as Mark Bittman’s highly readable How to Cook Everything. I was so excited to see the Strand carry all of the Tin Tin volumes at very discounted prices (I have only vols. 3 and 4 at home), but reality set in very quickly regarding how little room remained in my luggage, so I disciplined myself into choosing just one to bring home. Also, at the time, I couldn’t remember which volumes I owned, so it was good to play it safe and pick the one I was absolutely sure I didn’t have yet.

Anyways, after I complete this editing job over a modest meal of noodles and fishballs, I will get to fully absorb myself in the world of Tin Tin. It is a way of “being kind” to myself, which the Spirit is exhorting me to do in these uncertain times.

If you want a unique and tasty hot dog experience, you must pay a visit to the Japadog man, who has a stand on the corner of Burrard and Smithe Streets. A. introduced me to the Japadog man a few months ago, and since then, I’ve been going fairly frequently with my co-workers, whenever the weather is good. My favourite menu item is the Oroshi dog, topped with finely shredded daikon.

The hot dogs in NYC were quite disappointing, even at the world famous Nathans and Gray’s Papaya. The hot dogs there were really skinny and too salty for my taste. There wasn’t much substance to them, especially after unwrapping them from the foil and the buns have somewhat shrunk from the steam. The drinks, however, (i.e. the lemonade and papaya juice respectively) were very refreshing though.

Anyway, the hot dogs in Vancouver kick butt. The Japadog man sets the bar, and apparently, according to Jen, there are some amazing hot dogs to be found in the market at Granville Island.

I think thefourthpotato will get a kick out of the Japadog man. We must go when he comes for a visit later on this month.

The trip to NYC put me back in touch with some (shallow) things about myself that I’ve been suppressing ever since I started living on a stricter budget. So that I wouldn’t feel desire so acutely, I’ve either been talking myself out of wanting certain things or staying away from those things as much as possible.

That was very difficult to do in NYC, nor did I try very hard to resist, knowing that I had a little give in my travelling budget and especially after having received some very generous financial gifts from family (it helped that it was my birthday in early May).

Going into the trip, I was prepared to fully indulge in entertainment and food. And that I did. What was surprising was how often I visited Sephora and how much time I spent there at every visit. Easily an hour! It didn’t help that there was a Sephora at seemingly every corner in Manhattan. Amazingly, considering how much time I spent there, I bought very little makeup. Just a Laura Geller eyeshadow palette, a tin of Smith’s minted rose lip balm, and a pot of Stila eye smudge. Since coming back, I’ve been wearing makeup everyday! And dressing with greater care. Which means getting up at least 15 minutes earlier! I couldn’t have been bothered before, but some reason I’m making more an effort. I suppose if I buy stuff, I might as well use it, lest it goes bad or out-of-date. My fashionista co-workers and inspiration, Susie and Helen, have noticed and remarked on the change. Haha, I must have been in really bad shape before!

I also bought some new clothes, shoes and accessories, all very good deals and finds. When I came back, I found myself very comfortable, too comfortable actually, walking through the malls and department stores. The shopping urge was so strong, I even made some impulse non-sale purchases! But frugal me reemerged from her shell and put the spendthrift me back in her place. And so I refunded them. But I still like makeup. And am looking forward to going to Seattle at the end of the month, where I plan to hit another Sephora and a Trader Joe’s for some unique goodies.

Got back early this morning from NYC. Had lots of fun. Ate very well. The shopping was great. Entertainment was first class. Got to learn new things about my family’s history. But I must say, I’m very happy to come home. Three weeks in Gotham is a long time and incredibly tiring. And I missed the wide, open, green and clean spaces of home.

Fortunately, I have a day off to myself before going back to work.

When I get a chance to, I’ll try to write about some of the highlights of the trip in greater detail.

In addition to live shows and performances, I’ve had no qualms about spending on food during my stay in NYC.

Yesterday, we started our day in Chinatown, where we bought a dozen sponge cakes that my family loves so much. Our NY relatives always bring a box of these amazingly soft treats when they visit Vancouver. They are made in this hole-in-the-wall shop called Kam Hing, on Baxter Street just off Canal Street. The bakery is operated by some Puerto Ricans who can speak and understand Cantonese! A & I wolfed down a couple of these cakes right in front of the shop. Jen was hugely amused by the ferocity with which we ingested them.

Next, we wandered aimlessly into Soho, where many delightful boutiques and various clothing chain stores can be found. We visited Kate’s Paperie, where there was a major moving sale. At John Fluevog, Jen bought a pair of commanding red patent leather open toe steel reinforced heels. A picked up a couple pairs of Campers. I was tempted at the Camper store, but refrained. May go back when I make a second round in Soho with Dot.

For lunch, we ate at Dean and Deluca, a really high end market in the centre of Soho. I was overwhelmed by the assortment of fine goods and delicacies there. Jen introduced me to Fiji water there, and I must say it’s the best bottled water I’ve ever tasted.

Then it was back to shopping. A purchased a leather bag from Bag. The bags are quite fun, stylish, and affordable there, but I wasn’t too keen on the feel and quality of the leather. Call me a leather snob, but as a fan of Coach products, it hard to settle for anything less. I took a nasty spill in front of the store because of an even step and ripped a small hole in the knee of my FAVOURITE jeans. Booooooooo! I guess I’ll have to shop for another pair, perhaps when we go to Woodbury this coming Monday.

Because we had the Itzhak Perlman concert to attend, we decided to have supper back at the apartment. We made a meal of assorted cheese, crackers, pate, and bread, which we acquired from the nearby Whole Foods. Incredibly rich and filling.

The violin concert was mind-blowing. Itzhak Perlman’s virtuosity is absolutely dazzling and wondrous to behold. I forgot that he is crippled by polio, so I was taken aback to see him hobble onto the stage in crutches. The program was quite varied, from romantic to modern pieces, from unknown to popular.

A was curious to check out Serendipity 3 afterwards, so we went to see what the big deal was. It turns out that the famous chocolate frozen hot chocolate is highly overrated and overpriced. It was essentially a chocolate milkshake that is waaaay too sweet. Was glad I went, just to see, but I think I could have better spent the $8.50 elsewhere.

This morning, I indulged in sleeping in, while the girls went up the Empire State Building, which I’ve visited many years ago. They came back for lunch and we finished up leftover cheese and pate before setting out for Greenwich Village.

Enroute to the Village, we stopped briefly in Soho where we checked out a few stores that we missed yesterday (e.g. BCBG, Anthropologie). Also made it to a yarn shop (called Purl) that I discovered through blog surfing.

Our excursion to Greenwich Village was rather disappointing, probably because we didn’t give ourselves enough time to explore the best parts of the neighbourhood. Maybe I can redeem the experience with Dot next week. We tried hot dogs from Papaya Dog and they were totally unremarkable, despite the rave reviews from NYC guidebooks. For a great hot dog, just go to the Granville Island food fair, or the Japadog man on corner of Burrard and Smithe. A & I tried hot dogs from Nathan’s on our surreal visit to Coney Island on Wednesday, and they were also unremarkable. The lemonade in Nathan’s is something else though. It’s the best lemonade ever! I’ll try to post about Coney Island when I find the time. To sum it up quickly, it was like a setting for the end of the world, ghost-town-like, creepy and queer.

Then we split up to do our own thing. A went to get tickets to a show starring David Hyde Pierce, and Jen and I shopped around Rockefeller Centre and parts of Fifth Ave. before our dinner at BLT Fish. We each picked up a dress at Ann Taylor.

I will have to write about my experience at BLT Fish another time, as it is late here and my brain is too tired to try recalling specific details. It was a GREAT fine dining experience, from the food to the service to the ambience.

Later on, we met up with A at the Artisanal Bistro, which is famous for their cheese selection. Jen and I were too full from dinner to eat anymore, so we simply watched and interrogated A as she polished off three unusual cheeses. I just had a glass of red wine, while Jen capped her evening of good eating off with a raspberry sorbet.

Okay, time to hit the sack!

Yesterday was one of the most pleasant days spent in NYC so far. A & I set out mid-morning to walk the Brooklyn Bridge into Manhattan. The weather was perfect for our hour-long meandering over the bridge, sunny with a light warm breeze. The view of the Manhattan skyline was very pleasing. We took plenty of pictures of the views and ourselves as we crossed. Although it wasn’t crowded, there were more people than I expected to see also walking the bridge.

Next we took the subway to Columbus Circle, where we planned to buy food for a picnic lunch at Central Park. Columbus Circle is located at the SE corner of Central Park. Overly enthusiastic and indulgent, we splurged on groceries at Whole Foods that totalled almost to $50. We found a flat rock in Central Park that served as a tabletop and enjoyed an assortment of antipasti, a chicken wrap, some incredibly sweet strawberries, olives, bocconcini cheese, chilled fizzy drinks, a raspberry chocolate tart, and a key lime cheesecake. It was waaaaaaaay too much food. So much so that I didn’t get too upset when I accidentally pushed my cheesecake off the plastic-lid-turned-plate into the ground. A offered some ideas about how to salvage it, but I quickly assessed that I wouldn’t enjoy the rest of it that much, being so full.

Next, we took the subway to the Cloisters, located on the northern tip of Manhattan in Fort Tryon Park. The park is unexpected gem of green space, overlooking the Hudson River and providing relief from the hectic pace of the city. We sauntered up a winding path that lead to the Cloisters, an extension of the Metropolitan Museum of Art featuring medieval architecture, art and tapestries. Upon arrival, we discovered that we would only have 30 minutes until closing to see the collection, but since we had travelled so far, we decided to go in anyway. The admissions person was kind enough to waive the admission fee.

We are soooo glad we went in. The art and space is breathtakingly awesome. The Cloisters is truly a place of sanctuary. Each room inspires a quiet hush, inviting each passerby to be reverent and attentive. The series of Unicorn Tapestries was particularly impressive, considering the amount of detail involved for such a large work.

After leaving the Cloisters, we lingered at Fort Tryon for a little bit, snacking on icy treats and taking more pictures. Because we had a couple hours to kill before The Drowsy Chaperone began, we returned to the southern end Central Park and walked to Times Square from there.

A & I were looking forward to seeing this musical, written by the same people who created Slings & Arrows, which we are fans of. It wasn’t a packed house, so we got to move up quite a few rows. The show was great, very funny, a mockery of its genre, very Canadian in its humour. We headed right over to the Virgin Records in Times Square to pick up our own copies of the original cast recording. The production is so new in its run still that many of the cast members that we saw perform are on the album.

Right now, I’m writing from the Gramercy apartment that my girlfriends, A & I are renting for the week. We checked in tonight, and are enjoying having our own space immensely. A & I stayed at my aunt’s in Brooklyn for the past couple days, which served as much-needed breathing space from staying in Times Square last week and the trip to Philly. Good to have wholesome Chinese home-cooking too! But it is nice to have one’s own space.

Still waiting for Jen to arrive. There was big thunderstorm tonight, and I suspect that might have caused some delays.

This year’s Wharton Graduate Commencement Ceremony takes place on Mother’s Day. Because of the former, the latter has been an unusual configuration of family members. It’s been a long time since we celebrated Mother’s Day with the complete immediate family. Nor can I recall ever celebrating it with my paternal grandmother in person. So that has been cool.

Just before the afternoon ceremony, we managed to squeeze in brunch at this very hip restaurant called The Continental Midtown. It’s one of the many famed restaurants owned by Stephen Starr and we were lucky to get a table with no reservations. Actually, due to time constraints and not having a reservation, our group had to be split into two tables, one of five and another of two. A & I opted for the smaller table and made up for it by ordering some pretty amazing menu items. A ordered a Tiramisu Waffle while I indulged in a Liquid Chocolate French Toast. Yum yum!

After that, we taxied to the football stadium at Wharton where the ceremony was held. It was a looooooooooooong afternoon. There were many speeches and hundreds of student stage crossings to sit through. Also, we were all wilting under some pretty strong sunshine. Luckily, we had the option over moving into shaded areas of the stadium as the sun moved across the sky. Sitting exposed in the middle of the field, the grads had to suffer through 3 hours of sun while wearing their black gowns and caps.

Post-ceremony was pretty crazy. There were tons of people milling around and the reception area, which was poorly organized, was plugged up to the point of being a fire hazard. After taking photos and such, I was very glad to leave. We took a leisurely stroll back to our living quarters. With sun on my back, breeze on my face, good company at my side, I was very happy and content for an all too brief hour.

Then we got ready for dinner. My sister had made reservations at Roy’s, a Hawaiian fusion restaurant, very trendy and stylish. For the entree, I ordered the Hawaiian Style Misoyaki Butterfish with Sizzling Soy Vinaigrette. Yum yum!!

We return to New York tomorrow, where I will stay for approximately another two weeks. A couple of dear friends will be joining me this week, and I’m REALLY looking forward to that. Although I’m having fun, I miss home, especially my own space and my faith community.

The main purpose of my trip to New York is actually to see my sister graduate in Philadelphia with an MBA from the Wharton School of the University of Pennsylvania.

Hence, my family is in Philly this weekend. We arrived today by Greyhound. A & I are staying in my sister’s swank apartment while our parents and New York relatives are staying at a nearby hotel.

In the short time we’ve been here, we visited the local market (where Delilah’s is located, famous for its Oprah-Winfrey-sanctioned mac and cheese), had dinner at some Thai restaurant, and then went out for drinks at Tria. Picked up a couple jars of fig jam from a local farm … yum yum!

After a long hiatus from posting, I think it’s time to go back to it again. I’m in NYC for another 2.5 weeks. It feels like I’ve been here a long time, although it’s only been half a week.

Am having a good time here, generally. It’s great to be away from work, especially all the crazy change that was going on there in April. Too long to get into here, but I am incredibly glad to have a break.

Today, Anita and I wandered though Times Square and then down 5th Ave, where we stopped by Sephora’s AGAIN (my third time, picked up a Laura Geller eyeshadow palette) and then Nat Sherman’s (the cigar store). We signed up for Internet access at the Humanities and Social Sciences Library of the NYPL (where I’m writing now). This library is an amazing space, very stately and grand. While waiting for our Internet sessions, A & I lunched at Bryant Park, located behind the library. It was a perfect spring day to eat in the park; there is a slight breeze and the sky is slightly overcast.

Well, I only have 7 minutes remaining on my session so I will have to write about the Bjork concert and other highlights another time.

Wowee! In addition to seeing Itzhak Perlman, Kevin Spacey in the Moon for the Misbegotten, The Drowsy Chaperone, and Avenue Q, I’m going to seeing Björk in New York at the famous Apollo Theater in Harlem! I can hardly believe that I get to see her at practically the beginning of her tour. I fully expect a unique spectacle and aural experience! (Apparently, there’s going to be a ten-piece female brass ensemble.)

Online ticket sales started yesterday at 7am, which Anita, a huge fan, got up for. (She also got tickets to see Björk perform in Deer Lake Park on May 23rd a couple weeks after the NY concert.)

“Björk in New York!” I love saying that.

The fellow I take transit with to work came back recently from NYC and highly recommended Avenue Q. I wasn’t sure about it at first because I had all these other things I want see (plus I’m on a tight budget), but after listening to the original Broadway soundtrack (which the library readily had on the shelf), I’m warming up to the possibility, especially after discovering a song called “What Do You Do With a B.A. in English?”

The musical is quite obnoxious and offensive, full of black humour and edge, but it is clever and cheeky; it gets away with murder because it features puppets as main characters. My favourite number is “It Sucks to Be Me.” I crack up every time I hear it:

My itinerary is starting to take shape, with plenty of flexibility in between commitments. So far, I’ve got to tickets to see:

• A Moon for the Misbegotten (starring Kevin Spacey!! [I looooooooooove Kevin Spacey])
• The Drowsy Chaperone
• Itzhak Perlman performing at the Avery Fisher Hall

I only care because I’m a Sufjan Stevens fan. Apparently, only the state of Illinois recognizes Casimir Pulaski Day as an official holiday. It falls on the first Monday of March. Asthmatic Kitty Records has issued some background info on Pulaski as well as a demo of Sufjan’s heartbreaking song about a close friend who dies on this day:

Those lucky Illinoisans. Unless Easter comes early, we Canadians don’t have a stat holiday in March. Nor do we have one in February, making for a seemingly long winter.

This afternoon, I finshed listening to yet another stimulating interview with–you guessed it–Lauren Winner. The interview with her was recently broadcast on Inner Compass, a television interview show funded by Calvin College that “explores how people make their decisions about ethical, religious, and social justice issues.”

The episode is called “Dating,” but Winner addresses with satisfactory depth related topics such as courtship, marriage, singlehood, and community. I found enlightening her keen observations of how societal changes have affected the phenomenon of dating over the years. As well, I particularly appreciated her attempt to debunk certain unhealthy perceptions and expectations of marriage and singleness.

If you are interested in this kind of stuff, or have relationships with youth and young adults who are very likely thinking about these things and might talk to you about them, may I recommend listening to the interview. The discussion here offers a lot of good food for thought.

Three of my girlfriends and I are knitting a 24 x 36 inch baby patch blanket for Caitlyn, who’s now just over 3 weeks old. Since “many hands make light work,” each of us are knitting 6 squares of 6 x 6 inches using Mission Falls 1824 cotton in Coral, Jade, Phlox and Maize on size 7 needles. Each ball of cotton yields exactly 2 squares, so we had to buy 3 balls in each colour. The pattern used is called “Chinese Waves,” although I don’t really see what’s Chinese about it. It’s a very simple pattern, using a combination of knit and slip stitches.

Anyways, I am happy to say that I completed the last of my Maize patches last night, while watching Babel. We are aiming to patch them together late Sunday afternoon, with the Oscars running in the background. Hopefully, we’ll have it ready in time for Caitlyn’s one-month.

The Producers on Broadway is set to close April 22nd, just two weeks before I arrive in NYC! So close, and yet so far. How disappointing!! I REALLY REALLY wanted to see this live at the St. James Theatre in Manhattan. Looks like I might have to catch it on tour after all. It’s coming to Vancouver in about 4 days.

So what am I going to do for Lent this year?

Over the past few months, I have found myself embarrassingly addicted to checking the stats on this blog. The obsession stems from a need for an audience and a need for validation. For some reason, I derive a sense of value and worth as person by having at least what appears to be attention as far as the online medium goes. Also, I like the idea of possibly being entertaining, resourceful, informative, interesting, etc. to my readers.

When I first started this blog, my intention was simply to offer a means by which friends and family that I don’t see regularly can stay informed about my life if they so choose (because I can’t stand writing email). But with my crave for increased traffic, that objective has changed somewhat, whereby I feel compelled to write something just so I can garner more hits. How sad and contrived is that!

I confess that the good news of my inherent worth as God’s creation, of my being made in His image is not enough. I confess that God’s attention to and delight in me as His child is not enough.

Nick, my pastor, recommends that I give up blogging for an audience altogether for the entirety of Lent. This would mean radio silence until April 8! I don’t know that I want to do this, given my practical original objective. Nick suggests that my limited experience of God may be indicative of my own inability to be enough for myself. I suspect this might be true. I can be incredibly ungracious to myself.

So, an alternative activity would be to spend more time writing for me and me alone. I will trying this over the next few weeks (in some other private medium), and probably be posting less here. I will refrain from blogging here altogether only for the Holy Week, the last week of Lent. However, I AM committing to NOT checking for stats for the Lenten season (all 6 weeks or so), so that I can better stick to writing with my original intention.

Actually, it’s only too easy to stop checking for stats by simply stopping to write here cold turkey. That’s very clean cut to do, requiring very little work or resistance from me. What’s harder to do is to write anyway and deliberately not seek out or contrive some external measure of worth.

I don’t know what the next few weeks will bring, but remember me in your prayers. I expect to learn something about God and/or myself.

Lent is to Easter, as Advent is to Christmas. Today is Ash Wednesday, the first day of the Lenten season. A couple weeks ago, members of my faith community talked over what Lent is about and how we might want to participate in this very important part of the church calendar. To more fully grasp the salvific meaning of Easter, Christians may consider engaging in various Lenten practices/disciplines. For those of us that don’t come from liturgical backgrounds, here are some helpful resources:

• “Lent for the Non-Liturgical“
• ECLA resources on Lent
• BBC page on Lent

As a time of penance and repentence, Lent offers an opportunity for people to seek to be drawn nearer to God. They often choose to give up or “simplify” something from their lives that they discern distracts them from their relationship with God. Or, they may choose to give something up as a way to participate in some semblance of suffering that reminds them of Jesus’s suffering for the world. Actually, these reasons aren’t mutually exclusive; very possibly, one aim leads to the awareness of the other. Come to think of it, they are two sides of the same coin that feed off each other. Jesus suffered not only by being crucified, but also by the choices he made (i.e. what he gave up) while he was alive to stay true in his relationship with his Father, and therefore, his Father’s calling. Christian discipleship DOES involve this kind of suffering, which it makes it a hard path to walk on.

Anyways, one helpful insight that came out of our conversation a few weeks ago is that giving up something should not be done for the sake of giving something up . Rather, it would be formative to our spiritual (and maybe even mental and physical) health to engage in another activity that we would otherwise have no time or energy for–something restorative, something healing, something God can use to transform us more into the character of his Son.

I will posting very soon about what I’m going to do for Lent 2007.

Here’s an insightful article about hospitality by Lauren Winner. I particularly like her observation on the Christian value/discipline behind the practice of hospitality–that is, inviting people to where we are vulnerable, not only to take care of someone, but also to cultivate intimacy is in fact a Christ-like endeavor. She reflects:

I don’t find inviting people into my life that much easier than inviting them into my apartment. At its core, cultivating an intimacy in which people can know and be known requires being honest—practicing that other Christian discipline of telling the truth about where we live and how we got there. Often, I’d rather welcome guests into a cozy apartment worthy of Southern Living. I’d rather show them a Lauren who’s put together and serene. Often, telling the truth feels absurd … “

Aaaaargh! I just discovered that I missed an internal email sent at the beginning of February regarding an order for Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows. So now I’m #408 on the holds list. Compared to when The Half Blood Prince came out where I was #7 on the holds list (because I caught the memo then), this you-snooze-you-lose situation is a bit hard to swallow!

To date, the order is for 197 copies. Assuming that most people will return their copies on time, I should get my hands on one within 4 weeks. The waiting will be difficult, but the thing is, I’m not enough of an HP fan to buy my own copy for $30-$40 dollars. So I guess I will have to wait. Or borrow from a friend.

For those interested in buying a copy, the book will be available on July 21, 2007, one minute past midnight local time.

But while I missed out on the last HP, a couple of the most recent guidebooks on New York did come across my desk this morning, which I promptly placed a hold on.

Saw this video on whip up just before the weekend, and I was intrigued. The continental method seems much more efficient than the English method (where the yarn supply is held in the right hand). With numerous projects on the go and lined up for me to complete, I would like to start knitting more quickly. I tried my hand at it over the weekend, but it was very slow going because it requires coordination and a feel for the tension. Essentially the yarn is set up on my left hand in such a way that very little motion is used when creating new loops. Anyways, for my friends who knit, have a look for yourself:

In my line of work, there’s an expectation in adapting to new technologies, which some staff are wary about. First of all, they are required to change (which is naturally stressful) and secondly, they have witnessed over the course of their career how new technologies are often embraced without taking into account the good of the old technology being replaced. For example, there’s talk every now and then about doing away with the book altogether one day, to be replaced by computers, handhelds, and the Internet. But what if the Internet connection is down? Or there’s a power outage? Or you want to read in a bath?

So my middle manager (one of the wary ones) recently shared the following with me, which pokes fun at the tension I described above:

Greenroom is one of my favourite local funk bands that I discovered through Jamie Hovorka, who used to play trumpet for the group. I don’t know if they are still around actually, but if you can, GO SEE THEM LIVE. Greenroom is a fun group of guys; they really know how to get a crowd going, especially when playing in their red track suits! I saw them perform only a couple times, once at the Arts Club Lounge, and the other time at the Jazz Fest (though they are not really a jazz group) back in 2003. My favourite tracks from their album Connect are “Dimentia Five” and “Milkman” (with Lindsay Davis, formerly of The Colorifics, aka Lily Frost).

I finally got around to seeing Children of Men last Saturday. I HIGHLY RECOMMEND it, if you can stomach gritty violence and are willing to be led through a vast, emotionally disturbing landscape. But be forewarned: it’s not everyone’s cup of tea (nor is it a first date movie).When I exited the theatre, I found myself caught in an emotional tension between the despairing realities of the world I live in and my need for hope; certainly, I became more convicted than ever of how much this world needs a Saviour.

Though tinged with a shred of hope at the end, the film is absolutely heartbreaking to watch. Set in the not-too-distant future of 2027, the movie quickly introduces us to a world suffering from infertility–there hasn’t been a human birth for 18 years. People are downright depressed by this drought of new life. Also, terrorism and violence are rampant; people are living in constant chaos, fear, and paranoia. The future is bleak; a suicide drug called “Quietus” has been developed and made readily accessible to anyone wanting terminal relief from their hellish existence.

But somewhere, amidst this hopelessness, is a miracle about to take place: a very pregnant woman about to give birth. As soon as we meet this woman, a social outcast, the film slips out of the sci-fi genre into a political action thriller. As I alluded earlier, the movie ends on a (faintly) hopeful note, but the odds of arriving there are daunting, keeping me on the edge of my seat.

I wept in certain parts of this film. In spite of the futuristic setting and extreme living conditions portrayed, the story and setting offered incredibly relevant and contemporary themes. I was struck by the fact that many people in the world ALREADY DO live in terror, chaos, and hopelessness. What keeps them going, I don’t know.

Along with some other things going on in my head these days, the movie is part of opening a can of worms that is forcing me to confront how I contribute to the social injustices in the world. I am finding that everywhere I turn, there is no avoiding the fact that how well I live is irresponsibly costly or at the unjust expense of others. This realization is a despairing thought. But more on this on another day.

Picked up this funny bit of animation from whip up. Heaven forbid that my obsessions (of any sort) would take me this far to near insanity!

Apparently, macaroons are making a comeback in France, according to Lidia. Lidia is my friend who’s studying in the Baking and Pastry Arts Program at VCC and the one who baked a lemon loaf especially for me last summer. A couple of nights ago, she made us a generous heap of chocolate macaroon sandwiches for dessert. Though I don’t have much of a sweet tooth, I shamelessly helped myself to four, maybe even five. Which actually meant eight as each pair of macaroons was held together by a thick dollop of chocolate ganache. The filling was moist, warm, slightly melted, and made each bite into the macaroon cookie divine. The puffy crustiness of the macaroon collapses into the filling in such a way that elicits appreciative eating noises and heavenward eye-rolls.

Unbelievably, there were six left over. So Lidia gave them to me to bring to work and share with my colleagues. I passed them out discreetly this morning (since I only had six), and as I returned to my desk, I heard a chorus of “Mmmmmmmmm!” down the length of my department, which gave it all away.

Thanks, Lidia, for an incredible treat!

There is nothing like cradling a sleeping baby to dig oneself out of the dumps, which was what happened last night (reminder to self: I really should go see Children of Men sometime soon). Yesterday after work, I paid a visit to Joe and Christie, who have been enjoying and adjusting to the arrival of baby Caitlyn born exactly a week ago. She is a sweet bundle of joy and almost as round as her big brother Caleb. The newness and innocence of her little being imbued in me some hope that I needed to get out of a slump. Or, maybe babies naturally trigger a hormonally sedating effect in me–either way, she unknowingly set something straight on my outlook on life. I gratefully accept this experience partly as an answer to a prayer in which I called to God for some relief.

Prior to visiting, I had stopped by the T&T near work to pick up some green tea ice cream, which Christie was craving. To my disbelief, the frozen treats section was practically cleared out. The only flavours remaining were durian, coconut, mango swirl, neopolitan … weird and unremarkable stuff. I was so shocked at the diminished supply that I paced up and down the aisle for about 10 minutes, neurotically checking the freezer as if the green tea flavour would magically appear. My reasoning was that maybe I had overlooked some container or misread the label.

Just as I was about to give up and go hit the closest Safeway along the Skytrain route, I noticed a dorky-looking aproned T&T employee standing nearby and so I inquired him about the ice cream. He was surprised to see that there wasn’t any of the green tea flavour left. Then he told me the most wonderful thing: that there should be some in the storage. He went to the back to check and procured a box of Island Farm green tea ice cream. It was not quite the brand I wanted (I wanted Mario’s), but I was pretty happy nonetheless. Beggars can’t be choosers here.

The lesson I learned: always ask someone to check for extra stock in a supermarket! You don’t know for sure that something isn’t there until someone in the know says so.

On hearing about my admiration for Lauren Winner’s writing, Jason recently pointed me towards an honest, enlightening talk that Winner gave last year at Calvin College’s January Series. The talk (followed by a Q&A) is called “Real Sex: The Naked Truth About Chastity,” based on her book with the same title. There’s clearly an edge in her voice while she speaks and fields questions–perhaps due to the sensitive nature of the topic as well as her determination to be personal and frank about her own experiences and to debunk bad thinking around talking about premarital sex.

Winner was invited again to speak at this year’s January Series. Entitling her talk “The Truth About Married Sex,” she explores the differences between the culture of premarital and married sex, as well as the expectations of these cultures. She invites her listeners to consider another way of evaluating what good sex is. I love her thinking in both talks. Her approach is descriptive, rather than presciptive. She is lucid, non-judgmental, matter-of-fact.

If you aren’t familar with her story and want to know more without having to read her memoir Girl Meets God (though I highly recommend it), may I suggest the following sequence of interviews with Dick Staub:

Segment 1 of 4

Segment 2 of 4

Segment 3 of 4

Segment 4 of 4

Lately, I’ve been feeling pretty blah and uninspired so I haven’t had the motivation to say much about anything about my life or what’s going on around me. Nor have I been knitting very much–I am THAT uninspired. But it’s not like there’s a lack of external stimulation in my life. In fact, it feels like there’s too much going on (even the good things), and I’m overwhelmed. A lot is on my mind these days. With my planning for NY, celebrating with friends, and bracing myself for significant changes taking place in the faith community I belong to, last weekend yielded me bad dreams and poor sleep. So I’m in a pretty tired state of mind these days–can’t seem to cry, can’t seem to find the focus to pray even. Lord, have mercy on me.

Did you know that Nelson Mandela had his tear ducts damaged for 18 years from mining a rock quarry unprotected as a prisoner? When he cried, he couldn’t produce tears. How sucky is that.

A few weeks ago, I completed a coral double seed stitch scarf, which I gave to Tammy as a belated Christmas gift. It was knit on 10.5 mm needles with Debbie Bliss Alpaca Silk Aran (80% alpaca, 20% silk), picked up from Urban Yarns during the week I came down with the flu. This yarn is a DREAM to handle, a pleasure to work with, very silky, soft and supple. I couldn’t get enough of touching it! I actually felt sorry when the project came to an end.

The double seed stitch yields a pretty, feminine pattern. I was very pleased with the results. Must go back to pick up some more of this fantastic stuff! I am so addicted to its texture!

Woot! NYC–here I come! Today, my boss gave me the green light to take 3 weeks off in May for my trip to NY-Philadelphia. I’m going to book my flight this later on this week. Went to my parents’ tonight to discuss the particulars with everyone going, including Rupert and Anita.

Originally, I was planning only to stay for a couple weeks, but decided to go an extra week earlier to be with my mom and dad. Though a little leery of vacationing with a family of adults (and the extra costs), I do think it’s special to be fully present with immediate family in NYC, especially since we have roots there.

Two of the musicals I really want to see (The Drowsy Chaperone and The Producers) are indeed running on Broadway, so here’s a cover performed by my favourite funk band that looks ahead to that:

On Broadway
words and music by Barry Mann and Cynthia Weil in collaboration with Jerry Leiber and Mike Stoller
performed by: LMT Connection
recording: Outta Control (1999, Impression Records)

(If you visit their myspace site, be sure to play the video of their live performance on BB King’s 80th Birthday Tour. Leroy Emmanuel on his green guitar is hot stuff! Joel Parisien and Mark Rogers from NEWWORLDSON plays for the band as well.)

… the last time I really changed my mind about something. And I don’t mean merely a change in taste or sway in opinion, like how I feel about a certain writer or what I think about a particular restaurant.

Rather, I’m talking about a change in deep-seated beliefs/values about life, people, and even oneself.

Recently, I was confronted by the fact that I have a stereotype about people from “X”. I hadn’t thought about it consciously in years, nor had I any reason to until I actually had to engage with such a person who came into the faith community I belong to. Needless to say, I’m not proud of holding this prejudice and thus “tried” to deal with it by appearing to be nice and behaving civilly to this person, all the while keeping a cautious distance, with no real intention of getting better acquainted.

Then I wondered, “What would it take to change my mind about this person?” Unfortunately, I couldn’t think of anything, perhaps due to a lack of will or vision. Either way, it seems it would take a miracle for me to change my mind. Then I started to think that it is amazing that any of us change our minds AT ALL in areas that we are so strongly convicted or entrenched in (sometimes unawares). That could be a good thing or not, depending on what we value and the actions that come out of that.

For my own growth as a person, there are more things to change my mind about than not. But if I can’t remember the last time I REALLY changed my about something, does that suggest that, as follower of Christ, I’m not growing? But that thought doesn’t seem quite right because I don’t really live with having all the right answers; in fact, I constantly feel that Paul-ine tension.

So, after some pondering, I’ve come to this freeing conclusion: my mind is actually BEING changed as I continue to engage in my relationship with God; in my faith, I am constantly being worked on by the Spirit. Hence the tension, hence the conscience, hence the need to reflect and think twice about how I live. Struggle is good! A sign of Life! A sign of the Spirit at work!

Last Sunday, I had the privilege of sampling the menu at West for the Dine Out Vancouver 2007 event.

Right off the bat, I was impressed–impressed by the prompt service in taking our coats and showing us to our table, impressed by the interior design of the restaurant. With dark leather paneling on one length of the room and an entire floor-to-ceiling wall of wines filling the other length, the ambience is warm, classy, masculine. Apparently, West is known for its wide selection of good quality wines, and I was visually convinced.

As we waited for our appetizers, the server gave us some freshly baked bread and an incredibly fragrant olive oil to dip it with. I had never tasted such fine olive oil.

For starters, we all had the Mosaic of Chicken and Foie Gras with Pickled Winter Vegetables, Red Wine and Lime Syrup. It was an earthy, but complicated creation that kept my taste buds on their toes. My entree of choice was the Smoked Sablefish with Choucroute, Ventreche Bacon and Juniper Butter, paired with a glass of 2005 Mission Hill “SLC” Chardonnay. The sablefish was very meaty, surprisingly and satisfyingly filling … for fish. The meal was finished off with a titillating Gingercake and Panna Cotta with Maple Poached Apple and Pecan Ice Cream. I was very reluctant to share this multi-textured dessert. As with the appetizer, there was a lot going on in my mouth.

Over dinner, we decided that this restaurant would be a great place to go for a dinner date. If you really liked the guy, then dinner would be a bonding experience where two people get to share something good with each other. If there wasn’t much chemistry, then at least the the two of you can talk about how good the food is.

Am thinking lots about my upcoming trip to New York these days. Most likely, I will be out on the East Coast for over 3 weeks. Oh, what to do? Where to stay? Who to hang out with?

Anyways, here’s a little tribute to Brooklyn, where I’ll be sure to visit because I’ve got some relatives living there:

Into Brooklyn, Early in the Morning
words and music: The Innocence Mission
recording: We Walked in Song (March 2007 release)

From Sufjan’s bio on the Asthmatic Kitty Records website:

… Sufjan’s other interests include graphic design, painting, running, knitting, crocheting, weaving, quilting, cleaning, photography, haircutting, and dry wall installation. …

And further confirmed by an article about Sufjan from The Guardian:

… He really does teach knitting to the blind in his spare time. …

Lauren Winner will be teaching a course on writing as a spiritual discipline (1 or 2 credit option) at Regent College this summer, which I would love to take if I can scrape enough money together ($430/credit + $35 registration!). Lauren Winner is a keenly observant, intelligent writer and author of a couple books I enjoyed reading a few years ago, namely Girl Meets God and Real Sex. She (and therefore her writing) is refreshingly thoughtful and frank. Her style is highly readable and accessible; at the same time, she brings a certain academic rigour and scholarly inquiry to her writing. And she’s young! It would be sooooo cool to take a writing class from her.

This past Sunday, Nick started on a sermon series on the book of Revelation (often misnomered as Revelations, or The Revelation). To prime us, he got us to think of an experience where we “missed out” on something. I think the approach he is taking with this difficult piece of scripture is relevant to our times. The message (as revealed to John) served to remind and encourage the early churches (who were enduring persecution) to stay vigilant in what God is doing in the “big picture” of things, to not lose sight of it by becoming distracted. I think a lot of churches in North America today are in fact distracted (albeit not from persecution) from what they are called to do, from what God intends them to be.

The set up (i.e. contextualization) was a bit hard to follow, and my mind wandered a few times, but I appreciate these observations that Nick makes about himself on when he misses out on something important going on:

• when he is bored (e.g. watching for shooting stars, but in waiting to catch sight of one, ends up drifting off and inevitably missing out on a sighting)
• when he is fixated (e.g. looking obsessively for travel Scrabble on a trip, and having no other recollection of trip)

Naturally, the questions to pose myself are similar: where have I gotten complacent, simply humming along in life, that I might be missing out on what God is doing around me? What are some things I am distracting myself with that takes my attention away from what God is doing around me? How am I asleep? How am I blind? Or deaf to the Spirit’s calling?

Hear for yourself:

I don’t normally buy graphic tees to wear because they are absolutely unnecessary, but time and again, I will come across something irresistably funny that warrants acquiring to spice up my oh-so-sensible wardrobe. This weekend, enroute to yet another visit to Three Bags Full, we popped into Voltage, a store that sells novelty tees and knick-knacks, where I saw this:

I managed to resist it at first, left the shop, and in fact clean forgot about it after hitting the yarn store. But Angela remembered, so I went back in for a second viewing and allowed fun to trump sensibility.

My friend Dot was looking into suitable programs for field trips at the Vancouver Aquarium and came across this promo for a Valentine’s Day event called “An Ocean of Love”:

There’s some seafood on the menu, which I found not a little bit ironic. Call me unadventurous or narrow-minded (or simply ungracious), but I had much rather be taken to Tojo’s for some good sushi without sea life overlooking my shoulder.

At any rate, I suppose it’s an unusual (and likely an unforgettable) way to spend time with your own honey. And I imagine the proceeds will go to a good cause.

If you haven’t already found it via my podcast channel, here’s a song about grace and redemption that I (being a willful, self-reliant person prone to forgetting who is Lord of my life) really like by Over the Rhine (and I also wanted to test this new feature on WordPress):

All I Need Is Everything
words and music: Detweiler and Bergquist
recording: Good Dog Bad Dog

Slow down. Hold still.
It’s not as if it’s a matter of will.
Someone’s circling. Someone’s moving
a little lower than the angels.
And it’s got nothing to do with me.
The wind blows through the trees,
but if I look for it, it won’t come.
I tense up. My mind goes numb.
There’s nothing harder than learning how to receive.

Calm down. Be still.
We’ve got plenty of time to kill.
No hand writing on the wall:
just the voice that’s in us all.
And you’re whispering to me,
time to get up off my hands and knees,
’cause if I beg for it, it won’t come.
I find nothing but table crumbs.
My hands are empty. God I’ve been naive.

All I need is everything.
Inside, outside, feel new skin.
All I need is everything.
Feel the slip and the grip of grace again.

Slow down. Hold still.
It’s not as if it’s a matter of will.
Someone’s circling. Someone’s moving
a little lower than the angels.
This voice calling me to you:
it’s just barely coming through.
Still, I clearly hear my name.
I’ve been fingering the flame
like tomorrow’s martyr.
It gets harder to believe.

All I need is everything.
Inside, outside, feel new skin.
All I need is everything.
Feel the slip and the grip of grace again.

So from now till kingdom come,
taste the words on the tip of my tongue.
‘Cause we can’t run truth out of town,
only force it underground.
The roots grow deeper
in ways we can’t conceive.

All I need is everything.
Inside, outside feel new skin.
All I need is everything.
Feel the slip and the grip of grace again.

All I need is all I need.