Dear Friend

When I first met you, it was in a geography class, and I remember this cute, intelligent looking girl sitting alone on the other side of the room. "Note to self," I said mentally, this class involves group work, and I'm going to get that smart girl on my team.

Then came the day of picking teams. I saw the choices, and knowing that a project with Parks Canada might one day lead to a job with Parks Canada (well, that never actualized, but you can't blame me for trying), I decided to shout out "I'm doing Lake O'Hara! I'm doing Lake O'Hara" in the way a child might say "Called it!"

To my surprise, the brown-haired, quiet girl also jabbed the air with a "I will too!" Okay, so maybe this dramatized, but I felt it happen like this!

And that brought us to a strange group of Smarty, WannabeSmarty(me), Slacker and Enthusiastic (I'll let you arrange the titles to the people).

I realized quickly that Stephanie was not shy as much as she was serious, and she immediately took on the hard and difficult tasks of our project, the parts that were far from glamourous. This had the effect of the rest of us sort of slacking off. But the best part of this was when Stephanie made a mistake and got reamed out by the professor on behalf of us. She left the room immediately, and I followed, realizing she might be upset. I found her in the bathroom, looking like the cutest darned girl I've ever seen, big tears coming down! You can't help but hug Stephy, it is so rare that you meet someone who is completely sincere and truly is empathetic to a cause.

Well, we resolved our project and took a break to hit up the Lake O'Hara region in the fall, Stephanie trekking in some chili for the trip, which we never ate. I remember trying to impress her with all my tracks knowledge, which is none. Then we all decided to leave and go to the hot springs instead of spending the night, and it was here that Stephanie finally learned what a goof I am. I tried squeezing into a bathing suit meant for someone much, much smaller than I. I got stuck, and had to get her help (I didn't really need help, I just wanted an audience for my ridiculousness). She helped me get a new suit, that was appropriate for my size.

After that, I had the pleasure of stopping in to see Steph and Roger whenever I could, dropping by their apartment at the most random times, and I was always a welcome guest. i remember Steph giving me strawberries from Planet Organic, and afterwards, I never bought another strawberry covered in pesticides again. She had convinced me with her sincere sales pitch ("they were only $3!" along with putting them in a cutesy little bowl).

It was extremely sad when Steph and Rog decided to move back to Ontario, but knowing how much they enjoy the things we like as well (outdoors, biking and walking, yoga, organic discounted strawberries, family), it was no surprise either.

While I can't be there for the wedding, I feel like I know Steph and Roger enough to know that they will be so happy with this commitment, I always felt like Justin was Steph and I was Roger when I would hear Steph talk about their relationship! I don't have a lot of "old college buddies", but the ones like Steph that I do have, I know I will stay in touch with and hope to go on an adventure or two with along the road again, this time in a well-fitting bathing suit! And I'll eat that chili next time too!

Are you stressed out?

I keep getting this question, and it makes me ponder whether I am.

I'm not stressed out, but it's hard to tell people that I just really, really, detest my job. Feeling absolutely useless might lend the appearance of being stressed, but that's an easy out as opposed to telling people the truth.

It's hard to stay in a job you hate, when there are other jobs out there, but it isn't a good time to leave.
I suppose I could rearrange my life, the yoga, the part time luxuries, the classes, the location, the proximity to my dahling J. It's not difficult, just hard to weigh as heavier than my current situation, which is appearing stressed out, but really just feeling useless.

onward...

keeps me searching

i love sleeping in with J, even for 5 minutes. falling back asleep next to the person you love is too easy...so safe, warm, secure there beside him. sometimes i do a child's pose with my bum on my heels, head on the mattress, thinking blood to my head will help wake me up. It doesn't. I fall asleep like that.

He gets up to revive me with the smell of toast (i have told him that smell always makes me want to get up)...even that is hard, but i follow him out there, shuffling in my mocassins. He says i'm so cute when i'm tired and comes to hug me like i'm a child. i try to keep walking, so we do a walking hug, him giggling at me, me trying not to laugh.

then i complain that there is too much pb on my pb and banana. So he takes what i scrape off.

by the time i'm "awake" i'm usuallyl complaining about other things, but he thinks it is cute. That makes me smile and i lower my head so he can't see. but he knows.

The world post-coffee

So much better.

J's mom came in this weekend, dropped off the sis, then made her way to BC for some hot springing and lovin! However, our weekend became strange after we gave our dear cats away to a loving family with a 5000 sq ft, beautiful, home in the NW. Upon return, we bawled our eyes out, and grudgingly went for dinner with RandSand and Sister. I felt everyone was drinking too much, it seemed crazy, but it actually did help with the grief to be drinking and laughing with family (mainly the laughing I think!).

Last night momma came back in, but it became an ugly event when I had to set the facts straight on hunting. I don't have a thing against hunters, I have a thing against hunting. If we discuss hunting, I gots to be honest, hunters, well, that's there beef, I ain't no angel either. Again too much drinking, this time it seemed one-sided, not sure why momma's got to drink so much. It doesn't seem like a Good Time to me, seems juvenile, and selfish in the wrong way (unlike going for a walk to unwind alone, which seems like selfishness in the best way).

Ilove you J. I don't know how to express this sometimes. Words lose meaning. Even pinning it down to this or that seems shallow. I cannot describe sometimes the reason I love you, but I think a lot of it is having a best friend. But again, describing that is hard as well. Friendship. Love. Friends. Lovers. What does this mean to me?

Work is horrible today, the coffee made it better. I want out of here, I spend too long looking at other lives thinking they are better. They are not. I feel useless, no one can help me with that. Anyways, I look forward to my jog at lunch, as time without windows is time on standstill.

cannot supress it

I cannot supress this desire to take care of some small person.
No fancy car, fancy house, or high rise condo seems to change this.
I want a small, helpless cuddly bundle of joy.
Is it another accessory, a cat or designer dog, to make me look chic?
Desires to be a mommy. To have a family. My own.
him for his silly boyhood dream of being a strong hero of citizens? Is he doing it for others, or for himself?

I cannot supress the urge, nor fill my life with stuff to overcome it. It is not a disease or disorder like every other urge in the world today, it is simply my life being driven by that animal inside. Prozac or vacations to Mexico...would those help me? Who is being suppressed, who is being compressed? Am I suppressing my own life for this other desire? Who am I fighting against? Who is trying to put me into a box of a life, where everything should neatly fit and be in order, this then that, then car then kid then retirement?

What can i do? I don't even like babies, or diapers or soft toys and Disney movies. But i want a child. I want to reproduce. What truest pursuit can I go after, yet this is mocked and seen as silly. I would rather play sports than dress a dolly, but yet this female person inside me knows more than that, she wants it, and I must answer that call.

Those who were called but could not deliver, for lack of money, health, who knows? What did they do? Did they carry on happily? Were they okay? I don't know.