This is Why It's Hard.

The two girls who moved into the home right when I got back from Hawaii have both been moved out. One moved on Wednesday, the other, today.

Coincidence that they were the ones to say good-bye? I don't think so.

When I arrived at work last night, it was like the ministry was giving me one last kick in the ass. Twin sisters, reunited after 9 months apart. 14. Not street-entrenched to the least. Plan was to move them into a permanent home together. Thrilled. I've never met two people who balance each other out more.

They weren't the same person. They completed each other. Their personalities were very distinct. One was hard on the other for hanging out with bad influences. The other got on her sister's case for being rude to other people.

They were each others' security blankets.

On Wednesday the "puzzle master" was at work and said that the girls (who were making progress) couldn't stay with us one more month (until new placement for them opened) because we were an emergency home and the beds needed to be made available (funny how the kids who have complete disregard for the rules are left with us for 4-5 months).

So the answer is to split them up and put them in two separate towns in homes with very "street entrenched" youth to influence them and bully them for the next month.

My head exploded when I heard the news.

What makes it worse? There were no kids waiting for the beds.

I cannot even begin to say how many times this has happened. A pretty innocent kid is thrown to the "wolves" or a kid who is beginning to "buy in" and begins making some positive changes is immediately ripped from our home and put somewhere totally wrong. It's as if they're being set-up to fail. And the people making these decisions just see open spaces and the kids are pieces to fill those spots.

It doesn't matter that it isn't really the right spot for the puzzle piece, the "puzzle master" will just force it, and I swear that often they are damaged beyond a simple repair. Now they don't really fit right into the spot that they were designed for, and they're easily displaced by the slightest breeze.

And so many of them end up under the couch.

I was reminded what the absolute worst part of the job is. Not being able to do anything about crap like this. Hitting red tape all over the place. Not having any one person to get mad at. Diffusion of responsibility is the "Ministry for Children and Families'" middle name. Don't get me wrong, there are many people in this line of work who are solid gold. I work with and for them. But when you try to find out who made that bullshit of a decision, you just make your complaint out to an office, not a person, and when you try to deliver it, you get a "full mailbox."

Oh, I could vent about this all night long my friends. But the truth is, I believe there are people at work in the system this very moment who will change it. I believe that there are people who will never really burn out. They'll get frustrated and get exhausted, but they are made for the battle. I believe that things will change because there are people who won't allow this broken machine to keep lumbering along chewing up and spitting out kids who need help- and the workers who try to help them. Some of them are in school, and have yet to get their feet wet, but I believe that things will change.

Perhaps I will start writing some letters and harness all my annoying energy (remember how much I annoyed you Thayne?) to get people aware. To get people angry. Maybe I'll lead an angry mob. And we'll join with these "soldiers" I see working their way in to this evil machine and we'll all start screaming until someone gets annoyed.

That said, I will never forget these kids. They have touched my life in a profound way. They've changed me. I am thankful for every one of them (even if they shortened my life span and given me stress wrinkles). I won't stop praying for them, and I know that I will be involved in some way (encouraging the people who work this thankless job is a start). They need a voice. They're the "orphans" in our backyard... never ceases to amaze me that people are always running off to Africa to help the orphans... when there are so many here who have no one (if you've ever met a person who honestly has no one, you know what I'm talking about, it's haunting).

I know that I will reflect on these past three years the rest of my life. Perhaps I will remember it at the greatest job I ever had because it was the job that transformed me.

I got cards from all my staff today. They are one of the biggest reasons why it is so hard to say goodbye. There's a special bond made when a small group of 20-somethings are trying to"parent" a drug-addict, gang member, sex-worker, criminal-offender who has every reason not to trust people who say they "just want to help." Tears have been shed. These women are incredible.

Here's the kind words these "soldiers" had to say on my final day:

"Thank you so much for everything you have taught me. You are an amazing
role model to these girls and have given 100% from day one. I wish you all the
best in your new future and career, I know you will be the best."-L

"I always learn a billion things about life, youth, the system, etc, every time we chat. Thanks for your positive feedback and insight. I hope to be like you in the way that you work with and serve these youth." -V

"Thank you for all you have taught me. You have been a role model to me, you will always be the heart of this home..."-T

One More.

This is it. Tonight I drive in for my very last shift. My commute next week will take me roughly 7 mins by bicycle, and when I get off work, I only have to cross the street and I am on the dyke by the ocean.

I'm taking my retirement from youth worker seriously: biking to work, spending my days on the golf course and my evenings on the beach. I'll be that pretentious artist sketching and painting on the beach. 

Leaving my job tomorrow will be hard, but I've come a looooong way over the past few weeks and have begun to "turn the corner" from feeling very broken to getting excited about the future.

As soon as Kwantlen receives my transcript, it looks like I'm "in"- meaning that I've jumped through one of three hoops on my way to entering the interior design program.

This is Embarrassing...

Having just watched "Julie & Julia" (loved it!) and been subjected to one too many "YAZ" commercials, I thought bubble bath + me fully clothed = good idea.

While lounging in our room, waiting for Domi to get home from work, I announced that I was gonna take a bath.

I threw all the body wash, bubble bath and shampoo in the tub and then set up my tripod to take 5 shots in a row...

Attractive faces are my specialty.

I want to cry when I see that glorious golden tan that is now more of a grey colour. My legs are crazy alligator skin because I've been refusing to exfoliate off the colour... it's not so pretty anymore.

The dumb poses were going real well until...
Scotty walked in.

Stupid non-locking doors. They're more of shutters than doors. While Ang and I were trying on clothing in "Saks Fifth Avenue Off 5th," I noticed that they had put all the changingrom doors on backwards so you could totally see everyone in their underwear. I got immense enjoyment out of this. We might as well have been trying clothes on in one big room.


Hmmm... how to explain this...

There are so many of these moments in my life- where I look like a total nut-job and really can't say anything to make myself look more sane.

Scotty is the perfect guy for me....
Forget the tripod. Scotty climbed in in his clothes and I yelled for Ang to come see what I was doing. She tried to ignore me. I just kept yelling her name, so she finally came and started shooting.



Again, attractive faces= my specialty.

And now we have no shampoo or body wash to have actual showers. This was more important.

Finding Peace.

Sometimes a week can pass in the blink of an eye. It can be hard to remember what you even did with those seven days. It can be downright scary when time passes at hyper-speed and you're left trying to convince yourself you weren't asleep for most of it.

Other times a week can bring about more change than the past year. It can take on its own life.

I have had one of those weeks.

A week ago, I had been home from Hawaii for 2 full days (24 hrs of which, was spent at work). The morning after my first shift back gifted me with 3 cold sores, a shoulder hanging a solid 2 inches lower than the other coupled with muscles spasms, complete mental and emotional exhaustion.

I was so excited to return home. I couldn't wait to get on with finding deeper enjoyment and satisfaction in my own life through choosing to recognize and be thankful for the blessings God has given me- to work hard against taking things for granted.

I stepped off that plane ready to live the life God gave me. To let Him show me that my grass is pretty damn green as long as I commit to tending to it (water, trim, weed) rather than waste my time staring at the pasture on the other side of the fence.

What I didn't anticipate was this big old "backpack" that I had been able take off for 17 days getting in the way.

I had thought that God would have emptied that backpack for me, but when it was put back on me while I drove into work for my first shift, I could barely breathe.

I didn't remember it being that heavy.

My best guess is that I was able to function under its weight before I left because it has been slowly and steadily getting heavier over the past several months. I didn't realize it was crushing me until I had that break from it.

I keep reminding myself that God's timing is perfect. When I look back on this time- I will understand, but it doesn't make it easy.

This week I gave my notice. The tears spilled onto my cheeks on Monday and they haven't stopped since. I have found myself drowning in worry, but when I call out to Him, I find peace. Today at church the pastor said, "Faith is often confused with courage. Courage is a belief in one's self, in one's own abilities. Courage is based in confidence, and sometimes even narcissism. Faith is a belief in Him. It is trusting Him. Faith is finding peace in the midst of the storm."

It's funny that my prayer a week ago was that I wouldn't go down on a sinking ship, but that I would finish my job walking on water with God because the scripture of focus today was that of Peter walking on water, and the message was of faith in the midst of chaos.

That's been happening to me all week. God has been preparing my heart for every word, song and verse. I got an email on Tuesday morning from a woman who used to be my leader when I was in Pioneer girls, at the end of the letter she wrote, "I hope this hasn't been too preachy."

The words spoke straight to my heart. I read it over a few times and felt great comfort and peace throughout my day.

I have spent this week in the palm of God's hand. It has been stressful and difficult, but there is peace in knowing it isn't all up to me. There is peace in knowing He has a plan (even if it isn't all that clear). What appears to be chaos has order. What appears to be impossible is possible.

On Thursday I got a call back on a job interview. Not only was the manager willing to work around my schedule to allow for me to do a couple waitressing gigs a week (still waiting on that), but he also let me know that while the job wasn't supposed to start until March 1st- I could start Feb 1st.

As I climbed into my car, I giggled to myself. I felt like God was sitting in that room screaming "take the job!"

Sometimes the Hard Thing and the Right Thing Are the Same.

Is it too much to ask that there be a decent paying and somewhat interesting job out there???

I've been in a bit of a funk today. I let my boss know that I'm burnt. I called him and just burst into tears. I don't know if he could hear much of what I was saying through all my blubbering, but he understood my heart.

Never in my life have I ever been so emotional about giving my notice. When I broke the news to the staff member coming in to relieve me last night, tears started spilling onto her cheeks and I reprimanded her (I'll only be boss a little longer, gotta make it count) because she was getting me started all over again.

I am an emotional wreck right now. I know that I am doing what is right, but the people I work with and for have been family to me. There has been such an intense bond formed between all of us. Everyone has poured their hearts and souls out... it has been so much more than a "job" and it is so hard to know that soon it will all be a memory.

I think it's also that I have kept everything bundled up deep inside, and finally being able to step back and realize how I am really doing; being made aware that the time has come for me to take a bow has opened up those floodgates. January will be the month of tears. I kinda picture myself as Alice in Wonderland when she almost drowned in her own tears. I am just glad I'm a strong swimmer.

I've applied for a handful of jobs, but none of them have me anywhere near as excited and nervous as I was for this job. The pay ain't great either (yes mom, you were right, life sucks if you don't finish school). It seems so dumb to go into debt working at a job you don't care about.

Then Scotty said, "why don't you go to school this fall?"

I had thought that I would continue to work for the next 2 years and get him through school, but $12/hr isn't gonna do that for us.

One of the things my finance book has taught me is that too often young people get distracted by the money that they totally miss out on the one thing that we have over our parents:

Time.

There's always time to make money, but no matter how much money you make you can never get time.

In an ideal world I would be able to maintain 80 hr work weeks and pay for Scotty's school and put $ aside for design school, but I missed that day when they were handing out "ideal."

So I did it. I've applied for the Fall 2010 semester and I might just take that mindless, poorly paying job and work like the dickens on my portfolio over the next 4 months.

Or maybe I'll get that office position at an architectural firm downtown (which would be perfection!) I've applied for.

... who knows what'll happen.

Honey We're Going Down Sinking.

Patience is not my strongest trait… sometimes I can appear to be endlessly patient when, in fact, it is just that I am an incredibly stubborn person.

The other night as I stood sobbing in Scotty’s arms, I had finally let myself admit that I am done at the group home that I poured so much of myself in to over these past 3 years.

I left for Hawaii on my knees, I came back thinking I would be on my feet again, but the other night I was flat on my face.

Too much has happened to recount here, but God is on the move and whether I like it or not, He’s dragging my stubborn butt along. So many things over these past few months have brought me to this moment I never would have guessed would come so soon.

I am not sure yet when I will take that final bow, I am leaving the exact timing of it to God, but it’s near.

I have always said that I will leave this job the moment I start to become jaded because these kids have seen enough jaded, and I love them enough to refuse to be part of that illness that is all too common in the ministry.

Jesus was never jaded, and if I cannot bring Jesus- I won’t go.

I have watched him reach out to these shattered little girls of His. I have felt my heart break a million times. I have cried so many tears. Been enraged at the injustices and felt heavy hearted. But He goes about His work. He knows them so well. He’s given me words when He wanted to comfort, and silenced me when He wanted me to listen. I've loved and hoped when it didn’t make sense to, and have stared into the bewildered face of a girl who experiences His grace for the first time. I have felt love for a kid who comes with a bunch of “warning labels.” He’s turned my other cheek, and pointed out the plank in my own eye.

If I could sum up what I’ve learned over these past 3 years it would be this: God doesn’t make any sense.

His timing is off. He acts before I’m ready or doesn’t act soon enough. He rarely ever gives me what I ask for. More often than not, He gives me just the opposite. I took on this job to help these shattered little girls pick up the pieces, but instead, God used them to shatter my defenses. And made it clear that only He can pickup those pieces. Only he can put us back together. Only He can heal the broken. Initially, I had thought I would come into the job on a white horse and save all these poor, troubled youths. He rode in on a donkey … my white horse bucked me off and is nowhere to be seen and I am leaving this job on my face.

There’s a line in the movie “This Christmas” that says something to the effect of this: “If you want to make the Lord laugh, tell Him the plans you had for your life.”

Impatience kicked in when I finally admitted it is time to move on. Impatient to just get out of here and get started on whatever is next. The dread of having to go back to work for another 24 hours hung over me all day on Sunday. As I drove into work last night, I started to pray. I prayed for patience and immediately started to sing that old cheesy hymn “trust and obey, for there’s no other way, to be happy in Jesus, but to trust and obey.” Had someone else sung me that song earlier that day, I would have cuffed them. Several times. But it came to a prepared heart and provided a lot of comfort. As I got closer to the home I prayed, “God, I know I am burnt out and that you are encouraging me to move on, but I don’t want to finish my job on this sinking ship, I want to walk with you on water.”

More Change Than I Was Ready For.

Didn't expect to come back to such a bummer mood.

I kinda feel like I did after returning home from our wedding down in the Dominican Republic.

I just find myself standing here saying "now what?"

I know, boo-flippin'-hoo. I don't expect anyone to feel bad for me. A lot of you are probably gleefully rubbing your hands together. I even think I sound really lame. Big fat whiner.

It was going well until I realized that I'm in no better of a place having gotten away from work than I was before I left for those 17 glorious days.

Burnout.

I'm afraid I might be done. No matter what I try to do, I just don't have it in me anymore.

"Now what?"

I have no clue. But it's time to stop ignoring my own needs. I'm drained dry emotionally and psychologically as far as my job goes.

I've spoken to my mom and my husband and they both agreed: it's time to move the heck on.

Wonder how many ways I can make ramen?

Never Further Away From My Next Vacation Than Now.

Video-taped the “reunion” with my cats. Fell into my bed and wondered if it was this cloud-like before we left. Slept, like a log. Woke up and had a drawn out argument with myself whether to go back to sleep of not. Captain “responsible” won and I dragged myself out of bed at 10am. Is it possible to have jet lag on a 2 hour time difference? I think I just have vacation hang over. I overindulged in too much R&R and now I can’t stop. Couldn’t put one thing together for breakfast. Drank coffee. Black. Washed 7 loads of laundry. Tracked sand all over my house. Refused to sweep it up. Went grocery shopping. $167 spent in 40 mins. Moved piles of stuff from one room to the next. Realized I was spreading out the mess more than unpacking. Decided to cook instead. Zuppa Toscana soup (like olive garden). Played with my newest lovebird (I never say “no” to other people’s unwanted pets… even the rat I was somewhat scared of). Got angry with no-name bird because she bit my ear. Pouted in the living room and ate chocolates. Pushed the piles around some more. Looked at the tornado I made and said, “your Sunday-self is gonna hate you.” Went for a walk in the rain. Heart hurt a little when I saw the vegetation they ripped out along the stairs to the beach. Turned the IPOD off and listened to the rain drops being swallowed by the ocean. Took some deep breaths and smiled at the beauty of this place I call home. Got stared down by a heron. Swore he was judging me. Ran into a friend at the top of the stairs. Got into a conversation. Realized it was a bad choice to be talking so long when the rain soaked through my last layer of clothing. Walk turned into a run when I could no longer feel my hands. Ran like the dickens to try to warm up. Cold and breathless, never warm. Hot bath. Packed for work. Bid farewell to the Villa for the next 24 hrs. Fought the feeling of dread on the way in. 

My first 18 hrs home.

Computer. I. Hate. You.

I've been trying to sign-in to my blog for the past 30 mins.... my computer might not live through the night. 

"Account does not exist" keeps popping up.

Grrr.

At 3 pm Hawaii- Time

My dance card is up, tomorrow afternoon I will board that plane and head back for Vancouver. Back to my life.

First I must say that the Doliente's have been INCREDIBLE hosts to us. Not one day has gone by that I haven't thanked God for them. We have had the most amazing holiday with them. They have been endlessly generous, and have really made us feel so welcome.

I met Ang back in 1998 when her, Scotty, and I all met at Camp Qwanoes as CIT's. Quite a few of those camp friendships have lasted, and I am so thankful that Ang is one of those people. She has always been a girl who knows how to have a good time. I can't even begin to count the laughs I have shared with her. She's my hero because she really can hold her own with the guys. The other day we went "mountain biking" (take that title very lightly b/c it was more of a bike ride down a slight grade dirt road, but in my world it was pretty bad ass). and she not only kicked my sorry butt whilst 17 weeks pregnant (this girl has no fear), but she taught me that the foot I have in front while surfing should also be the pedal I hold to the front while screaming (coasting) down a huge (minor) hill.

She also managed to stay on her bike. I, however, tried to cross over the grassy meridian and bumped her back wheel, gave a loud scream, and tumbled right into the tall grass on the other side of the road completely breathless with laughter.

With Ang, I always know I will have a great time no matter what we do. She seeks out the adventure in the most menial things in life and makes them memorable. Being friends with her means a more flavourful life...

...And then she went and married this Hawaiian guy named Domi, who, gets along incredibly with Scotty (sometimes I swear they didn't even notice Ang and I were even there) and has all these great friends and family members in Hawaii who have totally taken us in. He also has this place in Kalihi, which I know Scotty and I will get totally "homesick" for, that he now shares with Ang and wants all their Canadian friends to come stay with them while they're here...

...tough deal.

This has really been the most unbelievable trip. So many memories made, so many laughs shared. We really struck it rich this Christmas and New Years, and I know they've played a huge part in making our lives better. I believe something has changed inside of me over these past 17 days. I have experienced God's joy, felt peace and got belly-aches from all the laughter.


Dolientes = JOY.

Then there is you.

I haven't stopped thinking about you. You've been in my thoughts and prayers this whole time. Stepping away from my life for nearly 3 weeks has allowed me to see just how blessed I am. I am blessed to call you family (whether by blood, marriage of friendship), and I know I don't see you near enough. You have played a major role in my life since I met you. I pray that our journeys will continue together for quite some time.

I believe this year will be the "year of blessing"- not that I will receive "bigger and better" blessings, but that I will come to realize just how blessed I already am. My life is unique, not like any other person's life, and God has blessed me with exactly what I need... this year I believe he will show me just how true that is.

Stepping away, just for this short while, has made me miss you... like crazy (no matter how small of a role you might believe you play in my life, yet I guarantee it's much larger than you believe).

Tomorrow I will come home feeling like the luckiest girl. I can't wait to get back to my life. I am filled with wonder, hope and joy and am feeling bathed in blessing.

The spirit is moving and I am excited.

I plan on waking up before we head to the airport and taking pictures of this crazy neighbourhood and I'll post them when I've traded in my "slippers" for boots and woollen socks and my sundresses for layers of sweaters, coats and mittens. I'll be back at the group home instead of staring at the surf... it's time.


See you on the other side!

We're Luxurious Like Egyptian Cotton

The first 3 days of 2010 may have been spent here

Just when we didn't think it could get any better (free accommodations? seeing all the best Oahu has to offer? getting tickets to see "Stomp" as a Christmas present?)... the Doliente's dropped the most amazing love bomb on us and we got 3 nights at the nicest hotel I have ever stayed at... one night was at the "friends and family rate" and the other 2 nights were free!

Do you hate me yet?

My Hair Smells like Firecrackers and There's a Burn in My Dress.

New Years Eve in Hawaii is all about the “boom, boom… FIREPOWER!”

Ang wasn’t lying when she said that every house in Hawaii purchases firecrackers and fireworks for the big night. By 5pm, we were under fire. Being that Domi and Ang’s place is situated in a pretty steep valley, the echo made it sound like entire houses were being blown up.


I called my friend Jac to wish her a happy NYE and I could barely make out what I was saying let alone her, so I was super rude and didn’t talk to anyone else who was at her place (sorry friends).

(Scored this dress off the "vintage" rack at Talize. You should go, or don't go, leave more for me)

Scotty and I put down $50 on some firecrackers at the Drug store. I didn’t think I would be that into lighting them off so I opted for sparklers and snappers (the ones you just have to throw to make them pop).

I like to fit in, so I did choose two bigger ones.


The animals on it made it look friendly, and if I'm gonna lose an arm, I'd like it to be blown off in a "friendly" way.

They all have the greatest names, but these two were my favourite out of the drug store selection.


Then Scotty came walking around the corner with this one and proved he was exponentially cooler than I.


What $50 worth of boom-boom looks like… enough to keep the party going for 3 mins.


Usually you would want to stay away from places where people are burning fires in garbage cans, or in their bbq’s. Normally a roaring garbage can fire spells d-a-n-g-e-r, but here it says, “happy new year neighbour.”


$3 t-shirt I scored at the ABC store (I really love those places!). I bought it as somewhat of a joke (still expecting Scotty to wear it), and then Domi's local buddies thought it was pretty cool- especially that it was only $3.



Is it New Years or a 4th of July party?

Our carriage. Until the torrential downpour. Luckily we weren't out of the driveway. I threw a towel over my head to protect the hair I actually styled for once (Ang's Filipino auntie was asking what was wrong with her hair today- we've grown rather accustomed to not using brushes- between the beach and the humidity, there's zero point). I nearly fell out of the back of the truck trying to scramble over the tail-gate in my long dress, in the dark with a towel completely blocking where I was going. I think I lost my "happy new years" crown when I ran into the side of the house before making it into the cab. Losing that crown really got to me: I had made a point to get the crown for me and the top hat for Scotty with dreams of having some really tacky portraits taken of us.

My dream was left wet and bent in the driveway in Kalihi while we drove over to watch the cousins blow of their fireworks/crackers.

Downpour was still happening and so was the light show as we sped down the freeway with Scotty getting drenched in the back of the pickup. Don't worry, he loved every second of it.

When we pulled up, this is what we saw... and continued to breathe in for the next 3 hours.


The boys said "help yourself" and help myself I did. I may have blown up a 3rd of what was in here... I'm a bit of a pyro, who knew? Scotty liked to take shoe boxes of them and light them off in bunches. I preferred to lovingly light each one and hold it until it nearly blew up before throwing them into the air.

Just some of the firecrackers the cousins set off that night. They were also working on their big finale ones in the back of the garage.

Sounds like a lovely time.

I would get this one fore my oldest brother, who, used to insist on getting his hair cut like Spok (sp?) and would pridefully throw up the vulcan hand-gesture all the time. He was older than me, so I obviously thought Vulcan's were cool too.

Domi making a bomb.

Pridefully showing off his way-cooler-than-mine firecracker. They guys here are also as obsessed with "Jacob" as he is.


He also got major cool point by buying a box of these.

Kemo's a local, he doesn't have to worry about bursting into flames. I swear I saw a 3 year old lighting fire-crackers...

if you're in your 30's and haven't lost an arm, you obviously know what you're doing

You light. They spin... and then you're left with.....

A beautiful little happy-lamp to commemorate the sparks and flames you got to enjoy.

Lighting off the get-together firecracker I picked out. What the heck am doing in this shot?... sending out my vibe obv.

Ang being a good mama and wearing a mask to avoid all the smoke... Domi being a good dad and making more bombs (baby will be born with four good limbs that he/she can later blow off with dad).

An arty shot for the hipsters

I brought the music. It's the least I could do for blowing off so many of those tiny firecrackers.

Lining up the explosives for the big count down... look at all the debris on the ground (don't worry, everybody sweeps up the next morning, they're not a bunch of animals here).

After a while you begin to get more comfortable around the explosions of flame. I got a little too cocky with one of my little firecrackers that it nearly popped in my hand. I actually let go of it right behind my bum... just when you start to feel good about yourself, you're back to sticking out like a tourist.

Apparently most people get a shot for their canine friends that help them sleep through all the mania. Dinner didn't get the shot.

Domi's mom=awesome.


Running towards an explosion is always a good idea. It's that same thinking that is the reason why most shark attacks that occur in Hawaii happen to Canadians... because we don't have a clue what's going on.

Nice try nerds. Just hold a mirror up to your computer screen folks. We're so smrt that we did about 8 shots and used about 12 sparklers writing it backwards.

Only 4 sparklers left, better make it work.


Not good at all. I'm glad there were four of us and not one of us figured out we were doing it wrong until we wasted all our sparklers.

2010... Here We Go.

2010 will be a BIG year. It will be the year I become a budgeting whiz: today I went to Nordstrom Rack in Honolulu and perused the racks for 40 mins and came out with NOTHING. It will be the year I learn to dance like the King of Pop: tonight I busted out my sucky moon walk and did some laps around the hotel room (until my left knee felt like it was gonna pop). It will be the year I start my portfolio: technically I didn’t do anything for it, but I thought a lot about it.

My sucky moon walk... in my defence it woulda been better had I found some woolie socks to slide on that tile.

Although, the squeek of my bare feet is a nice touch

BUDGET. DANCE. DESIGN. BUDGET. DANCE. DESIGN. BUDGET. DANCE. DESIGN.

The first one’s lame. I’m so not excited to budget, but then I have to remind myself that I will get more time to build my own life and perhaps find a little adventure.

While I dug through all the designer jeans (True Religion for $109? Yum), and flipped through all the pretty swimsuits (navy and white tie-dyed Michael Kors nearly did me in) I kept asking myself… is this worth a trip? (back to Hawaii? maybe, probably, yes). And it makes it a lot easier to go without (I don’t need nor can afford $109 jeans no matter how they make my bum look). I love clothes- always will, but I covet adventure. I need relaxation. I realize how healthy distance from your regular life can be.

Do I really need to explain my desire to dance like MJ? I figure if I start now, I should be able to bust out a few sweet moves by the end of the year, and then I should have a solid routine by the time I’m 45. I’ll use it to embarrass my kids: “if you do drugs, I will come to your school dance, clear the dance floor and do my MJ diddy for everyone… the choice is yours. Oh, and I’ll bring your Dad to sing ‘Joseph and the Amazing Technicolour Dreamcoat’.”

YouTube will be my dance coach.

While I’m still so in love with my job, I know working all nighters once we finally decide to have kids is unrealistic. I have a partially finished degree in Psychology, and it’s gonna stay that way. I’m not meant to be a mental health worker. God made that clear to me a few years ago, but I was stubborn and tried to power through… futile. Not one bone in me was excited.

A number of recent events have turned me on to something I am SO excited about. Last September, I finally came to the right path. To me, it was bigger than a light going off… more like a bomb. I called my mom to tell her that, once Scotty was done school, I wanted to go back to school to become an interior designer…. I was all “holy crap!” and she was like, “duh.” I got much of the same reaction from my friends. Scotty seemed somewhat relieved that I finally clued in… apparently they all knew it was the obvious career choice for me, and were just waiting for me to catch up. This all happened one week before the West Coast Interior Design show (which I went to… thanks Ashley) and three weeks before the bi-yearly interior design information session at Kwantlen (I sat in the front row…. just like the good old nerd-days in my high school math and science classes). Coincidence? I don’t believe in coincidence.

Scotty has 2 years left of school. He should be done his degree by this time next year and then will be doing his practicum. I am hoping to apply for the 2012 semester. The competition is steep: only 20 people are accepted each year, so my application, portfolio and interview have got to be good. Time to get creative.

Given My Wings.

Sketch. Paint. Run. Hike. Sew. Design. Sculpt. Bike. Swim. Cook. Laugh. Dance. Rock Climb. Surf. Pray. Yoga. Learn Guitar. Play Piano. Dinner Party. Tea Party. Garden. Love. Sing. Photograph. Learn. Play.

I'm hoping to do more of these things this coming year.

2009 wasn't my favourite, but I do know that it often takes hardship to get us where we need to be. Had I not faced the challenges that 2009 dealt, I wouldn't be in the process of starting something new. I wouldn't realize how much I value my family and friends. I wouldn't rest in the arms of my loving God.

There were times over this past year that I felt completely lost. When you feel lost, you search.

In my searching I found God and He gave me an excitement for my future that I haven't felt since before realizing my dream of becoming a doctor wasn't God's plan for my life.

The year was difficult, it forced some tough questions and rendered some heart-breaking answers (and I'm not out of the "woods" yet), but my life has been given a direction, I have been given fresh hope and an excitement that just isn't going away. God has set my foot on a new path, and he keeps on showing me that it is good.

Hindsight delivers a realization that I have been feeling lost for quite some time, and I am sure that much of the depression I have been dealing with over the years has been greatly due to that (major revelation just now).

Stress and hardship build strength. They can force you towards a new path. Comfort can't do that. Instead, it can often breed laziness and taking things for granted. When times are easy, we pat ourselves on the back. When times are hard, we're brought to our knees (and even our faces)...

He gives strength to the weary

and increases the power of the weak.

Even youths grow tired and weary,

and young men stumble and fall;

but those who hope in the LORD

will renew their strength.

They will soar on wings like eagles;

they will run and not grow weary,

they will walk and not be faint.

                   Isaiah 40:29-31

I am weary but You're increasing my strength, You've put me up on wings like eagles. My prayer is that I will love bigger than I ever have before and learn to really live.

Spending My Life On the Couch, Or Not.

I'm about 4 pages deep in my "Young, Broke and Fabulous" book, and have scribbled about 3 pages of notes... it's been a while since my last distance ed. class- clearly I've forgotten how to summarize.

Even though I should be trying to be good with my money right now, I'm in denial. Quirky, silly stuff is my downfall. Today I bought Scotty a $3 "Obama" t-shirt from one of the million "ABC" stores because I thought it was funny. Suze (the author) would probably b---- slap me.


I'm not feeling burnt-out any longer and there's a big part of me that it ready to jump back into those crazy work weeks, even though I would most likely find myself on a crash-and-burn course in 3 days. I think a big part of it is that I am worried about having free time. I know I need to have a game plan for all that empty space in my day planner (anal much?). I'm hoping to compile a list of all the things I wanted to do but didn't have time for as well as all the things I wanted to try but was too chicken (triathlon? dance classes?) and then I'll let that overly-organized part of myself loose to set some mini-goals so that I don't have so much empty free time (to me: empty free time=wasting time doing nothing=depression=being struck in a rut). I want to make the most of these moments God is giving me. I've never felt more rested than after working on something I'm truly passionate about and/or finding a little adventure. I know I need to approach my job and life differently, I need to make sure that my "off time" allows me to recharge my batteries so that I can bring more to the table with the girls I work with, to my friends, family and husband. God has really been putting it on my heart to be more intentional. I don't want to miss out simply because I'm stretched to thin.

We went to a Christmas Eve (actually it was the eve of Christmas Eve) service at New Hope church. About 10,000 people attend (hence the eve-eve service) and it was easy to see why. They have a huge list of ministries that members can get involved in including, creative design, dance ministry (from hip hop to hula), jujitsu, prison ministry, surf, and video/play production just to name a few. The Christmas Eve production featured singers, hip-hop, hula dancers, drama and my favourite part was when two guys came out on the electric guitar and did the Trans-Siberian orchestra "Christmas Canon." Domi and Ang said that one of the past productions featured the skate ministry and they had a half-pipe on the stage! To get an idea of the kind of productions this church puts on, you have to watch this video (click here mom) and be prepared: the you might even feel the Spirit move through Youtube... I think a huge reason why this church is growing so rapidly is that the congregation is so involved (Domi was part of the outrigger canoe club)- members can discover their passions and gifts (outside the regular musical and drama gifts that most churches value) and meet other people who love God while doing it (I think a lot of churches can learn from what God is doing in Oahu).

Anyways, at the Christmas Eve service the pastor said, "A lot of you put so much effort into making a living that you never make a life." My eyes immediately started stinging and I had to bite down hard on my tongue. That one line stuck with me and I've been turning it over and over in my head ever since.

I don't believe anything to be coincidence. Hawaii isn't just a vacation, God has been doing much work in my heart leading up to coming here. This time will serve as a break and the opportunity to step back from my life and really examine it in light of the Spirit pushing me to live intentionally rather than simply survive- to make life and not just a living. I've been so bogged down that I couldn't see what needed to be changed... God is beginning to show me that.

He needed to bring me to broken so that I could see that this isn't working.

(** didn't that video give you goosebumps?**)

Mowgli love couch

Man I miss this little guy. Kind of want someone to put their phone on speaker so that I can talk to him and hear him meow in the background... crazy cat lady? Yes.

We got this couch from the side of the road last spring. Red velvet- mmmmm. The mainland is the BEST place for free furniture in spring, and I might live in the mecca. Tsawwassen does the most amazing spring cleaning every April. People get rid of CRAZY good stuff. Got my pink flippers, Laurentian bike, lawn chairs, and some lamp shades just to name a few.

Mowgli loves the red velvet and straddles the back of that thing daily. He wants to get maximum contact between his body and the velvet. He slithers back and forth across the back of the couch in this position, and rubs all his fur off on it, so I gotta have hella lint rollers on hand.

Week two in Hawaii. I'm beginning to loosen up a bit... man I was wound tight.

Scotty answered the door the other morning to a couple of Jehovah's Witnesses and totally startled the ladies. One of them said, "Oh, this isn't a Filipino home?" (we're in a Filipino neighbourhood). She practically threw a tract at him and ran.

Bananas.

Merry Christmas One and all!

Originally, I had thought that Scotty and I would totally forgo the gifts this year, but it turned out that our gracious hosts were totally available to spend the day with us! So Christmas Eve, while the guys went to the Hawaii Bowl, Ang and I set out to make Christmas in Kalihi special.

Turns out that when you don't put any expectations on Christmas and don't take the gift portion very seriously, it makes for a pretty damn great day.

We got back from the North Shore around 2 pm.

A note to my ladies in newer relationships: you can get what you wanted or get a surprise, but never both. I tend to opt for having my expectations met... note the handwriting.

Very personalized. What a nice touch.

My favourite nickname on here is "squishy bottom"... the slightly insulting, albeit not intentionally so, love-talk makes it more authentic.

On Christmas Eve, after returning from one heck of a Filipino Christmas Eve party (that also will be featured on here mom), we tried really hard to convince the boys it would be a good idea to open our stockings right then.
Wouldn't want to put any undue strain on the wall... those stockings look pretty full.
Domi and Ang did open one gift: Christmas pj's. I would feel a little inferior to them, but they're newly weds... it's okay for them to be better.
Turns out that Scotty brought plaid pants too... so I was the only odd one out in my gold satin pants.

It's okay that I'm different.
Dog the Bounty Hunter *may* have helped Santa stuff my stocking... maybe there's a fugitive in there.
We tried our darnedest to convince the boys to open the stockings that night, they just gave us this look.

Fare game.

They were right, it was better on Christmas Day.
We didn't have a Christmas tree, so Santa stacked our stuff up on the bistro.
Domi actually got Ang this gift himself, and wrapped it. I appreciate that he was being thrifty and environmentally friendly.
Prior to gift opening, the Canadians limbered up with a little dance party... the local ignored our shenanigans. We can't help but be nerdy tourists.
Scotty dresses in a lot of free t-shirts and clothing he's had for at least 10 years. He could care less about fashion, but many would be surprised to know that he uses a Ralph Lauren towel whenever he goes to the beach. He's had that thing since I met him back in '98. We've been making fun of him pretty hard for his pretentious designer towel, and then on Christmas Eve, when walking into the outlet, Ang burst into a fit of laughter and pointed to a big stack of them on display.
Scotty was really impressed that we actually found the same towel (and for $12). I picked one up for myself (a plain turquoise one... don't wanna steal his thunder with the teddy bear) because I want to look pretentious too.

Domi couldn't wait to see what we got him.

Yep. They're pretty cute.

"First-Christmas-as-a-newlywed-couple-ornament" for Ang. Domi brought his game!

She had a little trouble spelling her name. Happens to us all. I won't judge, Tiger's put her through so much.

That was so nice of you Barack- it really made his day.

Every 5 minutes, the ad for this cologne comes on TV. At first I thought it was a screw-up in the cable provider... it's pretty graphic (I'm sure you can youtube it). It came on so much that it became laughable... especially because we tried to convince Scotty that it would attract all the aquatic life if he put it on before snorkeling (but the joke came out funnier). Plus it's "Sexy x2."

Scotty sprayed some on his armpit (confused at what to actually do with cologne) when he got it and sent Domi's allergies into overdrive for the next 2 hours... good thing it was only 99 cents (or maybe that's why the allergic reaction).
For the little person in the tummy... some people name their unborn baby "peanut" or "pea" or some other type of food... after this shot was taken, Angela lovingly named her bump "Spiderman."

Then Scotty named his holiday weight gain bump "Doctor Octopus."
You would almost think I didn't pick it out.
We gifted Ang this little pram necklace from New York. Bought at my new favourite shop on the island "House of Leaves." The wheels even work... the mama-to-be liked it quite a lot.
Then, "Bam," I was smacked in the face with a gift from the Doliente's that made me jump up and start chanting....

"I'M GOING TO 'STOMP!' I'M GOING TO 'STOMP!'" over and over and over again. When it didn't seem like things were going to settle down (they were escalating) someone (one of the boys) told me to sit down (couldn't tell you who, everything was a blur to me after getting that gift).
The cherry on top was that Ang flew up just about as quickly as I did to join in on the panic-dance... even though she's the one who gave the gift.
I paid back the excitement with these muumuu's for both of us.
Hawaii doesn't know what hit them.
When I pulled this out of my stocking (bought by Ang at Kmart the day before), Domi burst into laughter in the middle of taking my picture... tourists are fun. What Hawaiian would buy this for their friend's stocking?

You're welcome.

Couldn't pass up on getting "Spiderman" (they have no idea what the sex of the baby is FYI) these little polo shoes even though Domi says Ralph Lauren is "too white" for him. They'll have to figure out a plan for dressing the baby... like sunday-tuesdays and alternating saturdays the baby gets to dress Hawaiian/Filipino and the other days Ang gets to dress it "preppy white kid."
I stuffed my own stocking, yet I still find the gifts funny.

Traditionally, others wait for my reaction to my gifts. This year, I got to see what others' reactions were to my gifts.

And before you judge the "can-cozy"-I find thong swimwear funny. I took a lot of pictures of them in Cuba last year. Butt cheeks make me giggle... Merry Christmas.
The full extent of my score. Bit of a leopard print scheme happening.

Think I'm singing the themesong to "Three's Company" here

Despite appearances, I swear I am not under the influence of anything (I've been partying with a pregnant girl). Scotty made the comment last night while the pack of 20 hyena's started up into another laughing fit, "I would say that you girls are just laughing because you're overtired, but that's not even true. You guys wake up in the morning like this and it just continues all day."

Welcome to CIT '98.

Did You See That!?!

Christmas Morning we woke up at 7am and headed to the North Shore. There was word that the waves were 40-50 ft.... WHAT!?!?!

First stop was the rock-point-cliff-thing that was featured in "Forgetting Sarah Marshall" (the one they jumped off). It looked a lot different with all the huge waves crashing around. Ang cleverly pointed out that it was Hawaii's version of a "White Christmas" with all the foam... clever Ang.

We were having fun snappin' pics and then Domi said "it's gonna rain" and started walking back to the car... within 30 seconds the rain started to fall, and then got pretty heavy. The pregnant lady (Ang) darted ahead sprinting for the car, while I trotted along behind her yelling for her not to run.
Made it back to the car (last) and headed for breakfast at Ted's- a favourite among locals.

Spam and Eggs (and fried rice)... they really make that here.
I've been waking up every morning with sore abs. I assumed it was the surfing one day and paddle boarding the next day, but we did no activities on Christmas Day and I still woke up sore... then I realized it's from all the laughing. I'll admit that I have a ridiculous laugh. People often laugh at my laugh... now there's two of us. It sounds like a pack of 20 hyena's all day every day.
Domi's face says it all.

While the waves weren't 40-50 ft- they were big enough to shut the beach down. Domi said they were probably about 25ft, but they would call them 10ft? I guess they under exaggerate here.

We got to see them from every angle.
There were so many lunatics climbing under the red tape to go surf.

We weren't the only ones watching the surf on Christmas morning.

I even got a video of one of the best rides by total fluke. If you listen, you'll hear Scotty singing some song he made up... he does that a lot. There was so much mist in the air that it's kinda foggy... but it's still the coolest thing I've ever seen.

Thank God For Kalihi

At 8 pm Saturday night, I finished my last shift of 2009. Worked over 340 hours in one month, but I ended up staying until 10 pm because I have some serious control issues.

Boarded the plane at 10 am Sunday morning. I can't lie, I was feeling a little apprehensive about leaving work/life for so long.

As we started to land in Honolulu five hours later, something inside me just "clicked". For 17 days, I was to relax and enjoy myself. We would be getting picked up by friends at the airport in only a few minutes. And in less time I would feel that familiar hot, humid air.

Just before we touched down, I caught a glimpse of the lush vegetation and bright red dirt outside my tiny window. On the other side I could see the blue waters that Hawaii does oh-so-well. My heart started to thud. It all became so real in that moment. My eyes filled with tears as I looked at Scotty and said, "Just you wait, I'm gonna be so good with our money so that I can work less and we can still do stuff like this often. I don't care about all the 'stuff' I've been buying... this is what I want. In this moment I am SO happy. Just you wait."

It's something that has been very close to my heart lately.

Just 3 weeks ago I met Ang on a rainy afternoon at "Indigo Books." I was on a hunt to a money management book. I know it's supposed to be "common sense," but I wasn't raised in a culture of "common sense"... I was raised in a culture of consumerism. Every freaking time I turn on the TV, I swear I walk away wanting something (I didn't know I even needed) so badly I can taste it.

I'll be honest. Those advertisements work real well on me. I'm so dumb that I even have stacks of advertisements sitting in my house that I like to leaf through for "fun." Can't get rid of them, I paid at least $5 a piece for them.

Ridiculous.

But that's me. So I think I could afford to learn a thing or two about money management. Yes, we've avoided the debt-monster, but I also work more that 2 full time people...

There's gotta be a better way than this.

We searched that money management section for quite some time before settling on this book (you wouldn't believe how many "Get Rich Quick" books there were that promised me that I would be a millionaire in only a few years... bah-humbug). I fully expect that the message will be "don't buy crap," but I need to read that over and over again before being totally motivated. I know me, and books can do a lot for my motivation. I once trained for a half marathon simply because I bought a book that motivated me and went on to run another one and a couple 10k races. Books hold a weird power over me.

Getting off that plane and being hit by a wall of humid, hot air pushed me a little further..."this is a feeling I could (and will) get used to." As we waited for our luggage to drop onto the belt, I kept turning the idea over an over in my head: I will work enough so that I can pay for our living and for Scotty's school, but all the "stuff" I've been buying doesn't equal life... what we're doing right now is life... I need to make sure that we can do this often (through saving... not just making money- I know I can do that, but the quality of my life when playing the part of the workaholic is questionable).

Ang and Domi pulled up in a small pick-up truck, flashed us the "shaka" and hoped out with huge grins on their faces as they placed lei's around both our necks. I remember that I felt miles away from both of them, as if I was in a different world. They had been here a week and already it showed. They both seemed so darn happy and relaxed.

Domi and Scotty climbed in the back of the truck as Ang and I excitedly climbed into the cab and headed for Kalihi, our home for the next 17 days.

As we drove up into the little neighbourhood nestled into a lush, green valley, I knew I was in for some culture shock. It's not at all like the Hawaii I've experienced as a tourist... this ain't no Waikiki.

I kept saying to Ang, "I feel like I am in South America." From my past experiences here, it's been like going to Vancouver in a much warmer, humid climate with whiter sand and bluer water... but I live on the mainland and feel like a tourist even in Vancouver. Kalihi is were Hawaii's people live. The houses are different than ours. They're smaller and closer together. The streets are narrower, and most of them don't have much of a yard, but the people here don't seem to have much use for a back yard because they open up their garages and use them as makeshift patios, living rooms and dining areas. They would rather be out front in case a family member or neighbour might walk by and need a bite to eat, or just want someone to sit with. I've already seen more hospitality here, in the garages, than I've seen back home in our big, fancy homes that could actually fit entire square blocks inside. People actually know their neighbours and seem to always have time for their family. It's good that the roads aren't too wide, or the houses much further apart because it would just make it that much harder to get your neighbour's attention to say hello.

As we pulled up to the Doliente's house, I fell a little bit in love. Real Hawaii. We're not tourists, we're guests, and during a time when I want to figure out how to make my life more simple, I get to live in a neighbourhood where people don't care much for the excess, they're too busy visiting with family and friends after church- joining around plastic tables in the garage to share food and life.
We quickly changed into our swimsuits and climbed into the back of the pickup truck to head to the beach to enjoy the last few rays of sun.

Scotty wasted no time throwing on his snorkel gear.
I cannot even begin to describe how blessed I feel to be sharing the next few weeks with these two. I am certain it'll be a life-changing time for me.

Waiting For Obama Ohana

They've boarded Air Force One. Scotty's hoping to connect with Barack- he says it would really make his trip complete, so I've been sitting outside all morning waiting to flag him down when he flies over. Ang and I will take the girls shopping.



(Ohana means family in Hawaiian- we're learning, but due to traveling to three hispanic countries (Dominican, Mexico and Cuba) in the past few years, we keep saying "Hola" instead of "Aloha" whenever we greet people).

A Pile of Ash.

So this is what it feels like.

It always lurked in the shadows and I've danced perilously close at times, and each of those times it knocked just a little more wind out of me.

I've been warned so many times of its presence- and, admittedly, haven't taken such warning very seriously.

There was that time that I escaped to the island for a week of relaxation and fun this past summer only to come back to a 96-hour work week.

Guess I believed myself to be invincible.

It threatened to grab hold of me this past fall when a contract of mine ended very badly. It was the first time that I had to walk away from a person who really needed help.

It was the hardest lesson I've had to learn since becoming a youth worker three years ago: you cannot force help. God gives us all free will. He loves us more than I will ever be able to comprehend, and he gave that young women free will to live her life as she wants... so who am I to try to force change on her when she was not ready?

As hard as walking away was, "it" backed away a little.

I followed that up with increasing my hours at the group home to alternating between 60 hour work weeks and 84 hour work weeks.

And that wasn't enough.

I've been so apprehensive about taking 17 days off over the Christmas holidays to go to Hawaii. To me it seemed greedy. Maybe I question whether I deserve it.

So I set out to work 84 hrs every week for the month before my vacation.

"It" grabbed me about three weeks deep.

Burnout.

I am an exceptionally stubborn person. I am about as full of pride as a person can be when it comes to work, but last week I stopped caring. I waved the white flag as Scotty was driving me into another work shift and softly whispered, "I'm burning out."

When I started the job, a drug and alcohol counsellor told me that if I could survive one year working at the group home, I could do anything. She said, "you're working in the trenches."

Three years later, I still love the job, but I don't love what I'm doing to myself.

Work defines me. I attach my identity to my work. I take pride in being a hard worker (and compete to be the hardest worker). I relish in any/every compliment that relates to work. If someone compliments my appearance, I don't really care, but if someone comments on how hard I work, or how I perform at my job, I puff my chest out and walk with a little bounce in my step.

But there's a whole other side to it that I haven't really wanted to address.

When you work 84 hours a week, your work become your life. Work is no. 1, and you're not around/available for much else.

About a month ago, we had dinner with my brother an my two nieces. It bothered me that they had grown up so much since I last saw them and I only live 45 mins away.

Since then there have been many moments which have slowly begun to chip away the shiny exterior of how I've been approaching life/work.

My work can be mentally and emotionally draining. Playing "mom" to very hurting teen girls will do that. But what I've only very recently noticed is that I'm giving them everything and then returning home- to my personal life- completely drained.

A slogan common among pastors is that a good church starts at home. The burnout rate for pastors is especially high because there is so much need and it never seems to be a good time to say no.

I might be one of the best workers at the organization I work at. The girls living in the home may make an effort to be home for my shifts, but I cannot say that I am being the best wife, daughter, sister, auntie and friend to all those people in my personal life... because I know that I am not.

You cannot bleed yourself dry in one area of life an expect to be "on your game" in all the other areas.

I'm not hating on myself. I'm not having a pitty party. It is something over which I have control. It simply comes down to balance, and mine is all out of whack.

Yesterday I arrived in Hawaii. I'm here for 17 days. For 17 days I can't work, and when I do come back, I am scheduled to only work 48 hrs a week.

It's time for some changes.

I Tried

I was on a bit of a role. I had been posting quite regualrly on Tuesdays, Thursday and Sundays, but what the heck happened to this past week.

An 84 hr work week is what happened.

I have one of those down and three more to go before we jet off to Hawaii for Christmas and Ne Years with one of the radest couples ever!

I could have posted, but I was too busy turning the group home into a Christmas dreamland.

Worked a 48 hr shift Friday and Saturday. Slept about 11 hours of that... the other 37 hrs were spent putting up the 5 XL tupperware bins of Christmas decorations up... plus all the stuff some of my kind friends donated last year.

I practiced some serious restraint at home this year. We're out on Dec 22nd for the rest of this Jolly season... so I showered it down on the group home.

Showered it Hella crazy down on those foster girls.

Watching their jaws drop as they saw the final product: priceless.



I'll take pictures, then you can think I'm a great person and give me props.

It's why I do it. To get others' approval ; )

Life With Scotty: The Haircut

Scotty decided to get rid of his flowing locks in all it feathered glory for his 10 year high school reunion this fall.

I went to work on Thursday evening. He then dragged out the razor and went at it alone later that night.

On Friday he went to Vernon to coach his football team. His long chunks he missed just blwing in the wind. I stayed at work for another night- made it a 48 hr straight shift.

Realizing that the back of his neck was covered in fur- he called up a friend and enticed him with the promise of snorkling the next morning.

If a sleepover and trimming each others' hair doesn't scream homosexual... then I don't know.

Add a nice snorkel at Lily Point the next morning?

Let me point it out: I was at work Thirsday evening until Sat night- Scotty and a friend picked me up from work that night and we went downtown Vancouver- straight to the reunion.

On Sunday morning Scotty proudly led me to his bathroom sink....

He spent three nights running from his bathroom to mine to spit out his toothpaste. From his bathroom to mine to wash his hands (at least I like to think so)... all so he could share his special gift: how much hair he lost.

Come in for a Glass of Pink Lemonade

I love change. I thrive on change. When I was a little kid, I loved to rearrange my room to the point that it drove my mom nuts.

Now I get to drive Scotty nuts.

My entire month of September was devoted to a major clean-out of the Villa. So many trips were made to the thrift store, a ton of stuff was donated to our group home and our sister group home.

What I don't understand is that our place is still full!

For 18 days, all I did was work and rearrange/cleanout my house. Every single cupboard and drawer was reorganized.

It felt really good.

We carried furniture up and down the stairs and completely rearranged the house. Scotty didn't complain once... I did... when my finger got caught under a couch out in the driveway and my mood ring was broken.

So sad.

Here's the living room before:

All the furniture in here was grandma's. I only minimally arranged it to be livable in case she decided to come back to the Villa and live in the basement suite (so it'd look like her place and not like I took over).

October brought us a roomie (in the basement suite) which means that we're not going to be moving out any time soon, so I thought we might as well "settle in."

Here's the after:

A before shot of the window in the living room:

The after shot of the window:
A before shot of the living room from a different angle:
An after shot of basically the same angle (the doorway is just to the right).


Okay, I'm done with the "before and after". Now I'll just post some shots of the details of the "new" space.

Sweet records found at Grandma's place... too bad the turntable doesn't work! They're purely for show- we're so pretentious.
I love my little kangaroo
Boots the size of a finger... Polly Pocket ruined me. I'm a total sucker for anything small.
Grandma's house has so many great finds... these coasters slay me.
How do I make one of Grandma's lamps a little sexier? Wrap it in some black lace my dear.
Hahahaha.... the giraffe plant stick from Coombs. So ridiculous. So perfect.
Keeping the "plant-stick" theme going. My mom gave me all her house plants when she relocated. I've kept them all alive mom! Gold star by my name.
Bought this bowl at Superstore back when I was a newly wed (like 5 years ago)... later spotted the exact same bowl in Pier 1. Mine cost $18... Pier 1 cost $60... love it when that happens!

I laugh as I look at these- as I've already changed a bunch of stuff... I really can't leave things alone.

What is it about that lady? Why can a person not resist? Because she's so beautiful (and timeless at that) yet we know that behind the scenes she was a tortured soul? Who knows. Love this snapshot though. Bought it this summer in an antique shop in Coombs.
Kept the ceramic cat. Every house needs a little "crazy"... I plan on being a crazy cat lady once my husband kicks the bucket (ladies outlive the men- it's a know fact).

Ah, the imperfect Eiffel tower. The line of black eyeliner covering the huge scratch across the front is a lovely touch.... did I mention it cost me $49?

I am having a love affair with that chair. It is a grandma's house original. I fancy it a lifetime piece... something I recover about a dozen times, but the form of it is just so pleasing that I'll never get rid of it.

Christmas is Going to the Birds

Nothing says Christmas like bejeweled birds. Bought these two, and wish I had more money to cover the Villa in them.

If Barbie Had Hightops

While throwing my stuff in a locker at the gym a few weeks ago, the girl next to me pulled out the loudest pair of hightop sneaks I have ever seen. They were every colour of neon.

"I LOVE YOUR SHOES" I said in an awkward, monotone, way-to-loud voice (my IPOD was already thumping in my ears, and I was too excited to think to pull the earbuds out before trying to have a conversation.

I have been looking for my very own pair of colourful hightops for the past half year, but have had no luck finding what I really want for discount.

I get so addicted to the price tag, that I sometimes find myself buying stuff I don't love because it's too cheap to pass up.

Problem is that sometimes I end up spending more in the end because I keep looking for that thing I really wanted in the first place.

It's a skill I'm trying to learn- knowing when to spend and when to save.

It's like those cheap $12 jeans that have way-to-small pockets, and thus, make your rear view humongous. At the time you thought they were a good idea, but then you catch a glimpse of the back of yourself in a photo and suddenly you want to burn them at the stake.

I'm a sucker for anything and everything cheap, but I'm tired of all the "burnings."

When I saw those bright hightops in all their glory- I decided I would only buy a pair I loved.



These shoes will get me noticed.

The funnest pair of shoes since those LA Gears I had in grade 2 with the ribbon laces.

My seven year old self would be high-fivin' me right now.

I also feel my Brooklyn girls, Jenny Humphrey and Vanessa Abrams, would let me tag along to some cool, underground concert.

They say "Bronx" inside. Total street cred points.

Sweaty, Hot Lemonade

When life hands you lemons...

Missed the Ferry- stuck at Duke Point for 3 3/4 hours. Me, not happy. I had predicted we would be too late for the 3:15pm sailing and wanted to pull off the Island Hwy and bide our time poking around in shops.

I'm not a gambler- if there's a decent chance it won't work, I usually accept defeat and move on (turns out Scotty had wanted to get home so he could play basketball with his buddies).

As we set down our bags in the waiting area, I was seeing red.

"This is my nightmare," I grumbled... "stuck doing nothing for the next 5 hours" (I was factoring in the 2 hour ferry ride).

Scotty, sensing I might turn into a polar bear and mull him, moved a few rows ahead of me and buried his head in his textbooks.

I let out a few heavy sighs, so my frustration would be made clear (in case he hadn't noticed my red glowing eyes).

After a minute or so, I realized my sour mood wasn't gonna get me anywhere. In fact, I had very recently come across two things that had stuck with me: the first was something that Michael Buble he said while on "The Hour- with George Stomboulopolous" the previous evening. He talked about how often he has missed out on a good evening because he was too busy playing passive aggressive games with his significant other every time he got his nose out of joint. It never gets him anywhere, so he's been trying to just let things go, and in the end, he's been having a lot better time.

I am queen passive aggressive.

The other was a quote I had read on a card in "House of Leaves" while hunting for more trinkets earlier that morning:

Take care of the minutes, for the hours will take care of themselves
-Lord Chesterfield

---

I dramatically unzipped my sac and grumpily started pushing things from side to side. I yanked out my IPOD and headphones, followed by my spandex and runners... if anger was gonna be my main course for the evening, a good bum was gonna be the side dish.

All the heavy breathing caught Scotty's attention (I like to think he believed I was turning into the Incredible Hulk, and was prepared to see me in all my green glory with shredded clothing, ripping the benched from the ground). A slight smile crossed his face as he watched me doing squats under the weight of his backpack full of textbooks.

45 mins later, I finished a pretty good weight session (thanks to those textbooks). I headed outside to find some stairs to run and stumbled upon a set with a fantastic view (right on the edge of a small cliff overlooking the ocean).

 20 mins later, stairs were done and I found myself jogging along a truly gorgeous trail that snaked along the ocean, popping in and out of the forest.

Another 30 mins later, I was racing against the twilight. As darkness began to swallow the point, Nanaimo's city lights twinkled across the bay.

I returned to the terminal with only 40 mins to change out of my sweaty gear and reapply a little makeup.

I had sweated out all my toxic, passive aggressive anger- found a little adventure and took in a whole lot of beauty.

Sweaty lemonade... much better than sitting around being a crock pot of fury.

For You.

I have been priviledged.

Spoiled rotten.

And I know it.

Anyone who knows me, has heard me brag.

I speak higher of her than any person.

I have been witness to her strength, and over the years have discovered this strength in my self.

The way that she has lived her life has been the greatest gift to me. I have been greatly blessed by her. She's always in my corner, and has made me believe I really can do anything.

I know that my independence, stubborn streak, creativity, drive, my "I am woman hear me roar", and intense love for my family and friends all come from her.

She has taught me to be thankful for what I do have, to get up and brush myself off no matter how hard I am knocked down, and to always care for "the least of these."

Her life has been the single most greatest example of love, integrity and perservearance.

She's my hero.

If I can be half the woman she is, I will feel I have suceeded.

... and I am blessed just to be her daughter.

Happiest birthday Mum. I love you with all my heart.

Robo Boogie

While out trick or treating, I always pick out my next years' costume. Next year I am going to go as a moth... a 60's bohemian style moth.

This year, I hunted down a couple cardboard boxes, dryer tubing, duct tape and silver spray paint and made myself one wicked "robosapien" costume.

It all started in September when I walked into a machine rental store (which also sells moving boxes) looking to buy a "book box" for the head of my robot. I bought boxes because I wanted them to be in pristine condition and I was looking for very specific sizes.

Too bad they were all sold out of the book boxes.

Over the next 15 minutes, the two mechanics ran around looking for boxes that some of their "parts" came in. I stood there trying various boxes on my head. Some were pretty dirty- covered in oil stains- others were far too shallow- more of a hat than a head, but I still put them on because I found it all so humorous. I left empty-handed that day, but I had a good laugh about it all.


Head, body and hands done. All it needs is a coat of silver spray paint. Now to make boots. I looked around for a couple shoe boxes and some bendy cardboard for the shaft of the boot.... all I came up with was these yard waste paper bags and some big chunks of sturdy cardboard.

But all covered in duct tape, and no one knows any different.


Eat your heart out Jimmy Choo.
The finished product. The motherboard featured functions such as: pinch, kick, jump, throw object. There were also "Dynamic Walking" choices like: Reverse, Crab Walk, and Emotionally Aggressive.

I even practiced my binary code... didn't get to show case it as much as I would've liked.

I carved a pumpkin of myself.
The trick or treating crew. What you can't see in the picture is that I had speakers shoved up one of my arms (the gibbled broken looking one in the shot below) and my IPOD in hand.

"Robots" by Flight of the Concords was my theme song, obviously, but there were great dance tunes pumping out of my arm the whole evening.

A Winter Wonder Woodland

While mulling over the gorgeous grey and silver bird-themed center piece that would be eaten alive by sheer "busy-ness" of the Villa, thus completely inappropriate for my place but so pretty, I came up with this years' (and following years') theme: winter wonder woodland.

Truth be told, I have been gathering a few items over this past year without Christmas in mind at all. There's the big black and white papasan chair I bought in Seattle over Valentines which features a pattern of trees and woodland creatures. Then there's the squirrel and owl made from grasses and pine cones that I couldn't resist at Coombs market last spring. My owl collection grew to be a little family of three this past fall and has taken up permanent residence on my bookshelf.

While I tried to find some ideas online, I couldn't find any one site that featured the ideas floating around in my head in one cohesive theme. Instead, I found some adorable decorations from an assortment of sites that, all together, begin to describe my idea.

www.liberty.co.uk

www.liberty.co.uk

I adore these little glass birds. We used to have some on our tree when I was just tiny... I love the vintage feel of them.

http://www.bronners.com/

And speaking of vintage, I'm beginning to comb the "glass figurines" section of Value Village for things like this little raccoon. So far I've found a squirrel (another purchase unrelated to this idea- bought it in the summer) and a couple ceramic toadstools.

www.etsy.com

I only wish I had the slightest clue how to make these felted acorns, but I don't so I'll have to figure out another way to make acorns as I didn't have the foresight to collect them this summer.

www.etsy.com

I love the acorns, and I love love love these little toadstools. I've already picked up some Styrofoam balls that I hope to cover with felt.

etsy at this address

Does anyone have a clue where I can buy one of these? I've yet to see them in pink sparkles. I'm a little torn about getting one though as I've seen a variety of them everywhere this year (I don't recall them last year)... I don't want to just jump on the trend bandwagon, but one like this is just so pretty.

www.heals.co.uk

Or I could go with a glittery head on my wall. I feel like this is kinda mocking all those trophy hunters out there and I like that.

www.heals.co.uk

www.target.com

Then there's this idea for the centerpiece. I like the use of colour, but I don't know if I want all that glitter. You can find the craft tutorial for it on the Martha Steward website (link is below the picture).

Tutorial on Martha Stewart website

This next Saturday will be my last one off before we jet south for Christmas... a Mele Kalikimaka to be exact. After this next weekend, it's four 84 hour work weeks until we leave, so I'll be spreading a little cheer (not the standard xmas explosion that takes 4 insomnia-filled days to set up) around my place this weekend.

This Would Be Lovely at Your Place

While watching designer Lynn Spence, on Cityline, put together Christmas centerpieces, one of them triggered my own creative center. Sometimes I come across ideas that I just can't let go of... even if they wouldn't quite work in my own life (weather it be fashion or decor). I mull over them and mull some more until they begin to take shape of something that would work for me.  

Obviously I need to decorate my friend's spaces too, so that I can use a wider range of ideas.  

Anyways, I have searched and searched the internet for pictures of this gorgeous centerpiece idea, because I think someone ought to use it, but have had zero luck. However, the concept was quite simple, so I'll do my best to describe it. 

Besides, it's about using the idea, not copying it exactly. 

She started with a crisp white table linen and placed assorted clear glass hurricane candle holders of varying heights and sizes (some on pedestals and others not). Then she filled them all with GREY pillar candles (brilliant and unexpected... fairly thrifty too, as grey candles in hurricanes can be used throughout the rest of the year!). Peir 1 has some really nice grey pillars, but I would check Winners and HomeSense so that you can keep that arm and leg. I've found gorgeous hurricanes in the dollar store, and they are a great investment, as they can be used for any season. 

Two or three silver metal birds/branches like these were placed amongst the hurricanes. I've seen so many like this at Value Village, but they're usually grungy gold. A coat of silver spray paint (and perhaps a topcoat of silver spray sparkles?), would make them look new again.

AMradio on Etsy  

Finally she then took dainty little vases (clear glass, white, and silver) and stuffed them full of sparkly silver twigs and sprinkled them in amongst the hurricanes.  

Simple, but gorgeous! And not so redundant. I loved that everything other than the sparkly twigs could go beyond christmas (the birds would be adorable on top of side-stacked books on a shelf or on your coffee table...as long as you didn't cover them in glitter). Mini vases (search your local thrift shop for them) could house flowers of any season (mini pink roses at valentines, daisies at Easter etc.).

Something simple and classy like this would get eaten alive in the Villa. I have no self control when it comes to colour. That combined with the seperateness of each room and the size of the place wouldn't do something like this justice. I think it'd be gorgeous in a smaller, more open setting- like an apartment/townhouse/condo. If I lived in a more modern setting, this would be my centerpiece, but you won't get competition from me in finding those metal birds in Value Village.

Choo in a Store Near You

This Saturday marks the arrival of Jimmy Choo's collection for H&M. You can browse the shoes here.



While Choo shoes, with a price tag ranging from $675-$1295, have remained out of reach of my little feet, this collection features shoes/boots ranging $69.99-$299.99.

I'm plucking the last few leaves from my money tree, but for any of you lucky ladies with a little extra cash, the H&M at Pacific Center will be carrying the line.

Be sure to line up early, as they're expecting a bit of a frenzy.

Whimper

While on the island this summer, I fell in love.

On our way out to Coombs, my mom mentioned a place called "Bamboozle." I was quite shocked that there was a place in the Parksville area I didn't know of. 

With a name like that, how can you say no?

As soon as I stepped into the store I let out a whimper as I took in the decor. Mixing stuffed ravens and crystal chandeliers? Way too much to handle. 

  

While my mouth was hanging open at this little jewel of a shop, the salesperson served us a sample of the day's tea (georgia peach iced tea) in clear glass espresso cups.


Every nook and cranny is stuffed full with amazing trinkets. This girl is a sucker for trinkets.

It caters to the nosiest customers by filling each and every drawer of two massive wardrobes with goodies that just begs to be searched.



The sillier the better for everyone...except Mr wallet.



I loved the way these frames were held up by a piece of ribbon so much that I went home and did the same with a few of my frames.


I was SO tempted by these earrings and necklace... but I wanted everything in the store, so I said no to this and a thousand other "wants."

Charming little stickies.




I love you, but I can't buy you.






Once I painfully settled on a couple items, the salesperson wrapped them and put them in this cute paper bag (which I took home and put in a frame)


So what did I settle on?

This card (in a frame at home).


And this necklace... LOVE Alice in Wonderland... planning a tea party in the forest this next spring in honour of Mr Burton's take on the classic story- don't even get me started on how excited I am for it.


Even their tags are personalized... marketing smarty pants!

Life With Scotty: Feeling Sorry for Himself

I am starting a new post theme called "Life With Scotty." It will feature the little life moments that make him who he is and can make me want to laugh and cry; rip out my hair and hug him all at the same time. 

"I hate school, I'm quitting"

-scotty, a minute before I took this shot

A Perfect Autumn Bite

Now that the weather's getting cooler and the days are getting shorter...

...it's time to stay inside and eat.

While on the island a few days ago, I sampled the most amazing and easy snack/appy at the Qualicum Foods grocery store. It was so good, in fact, that my mom and I HAD TO buy the two ingredients to make it and eat it that night (as an appitizer before my mother's and mine "World Famous Meatcakes").

The two ingredients are: 

This amazing cheese:

I did a little research on white stilton courtesy of Wikipedia. Stilton is either blue or white. Blue is the more common form. The white version has not had the mould introduced to it, so it doesn't have that pungent taste. Some people liken it to plain yogurt- it has somewhat of an unfinished taste by itself; therefore, white stilton is often mixed with dried fruit, so it should not be a problem tracking this little slice of love down in any grocery store. It is nothing like brie cheese with fruit or a cream cheese spread. The texture is soft, yet crumbly and it has a slightly tangy flavour.

Just be careful when eating it:

A 2005 survey carried out by the British Cheese Board reported that when it came to dream types, Stilton cheese seemed to cause odder dreams than other cheese, with 75% of men and 85% of women experiencing "odd and vivid" dreams after eating a 20-gram serving of the cheese half an hour before going to sleep. [Wiki]

And thin, crisp gingersnaps. The less sweet, more gingery kind. The mixture of the tangy cheese, pears, apples and ginger is unbelievable and is full of perfect fall flavours.

Paired with concord grapes and an english-style apple cider, such as that found at the Merridale Estate Cidery  in the Mill Bay area of Vancouver Island (yes, I went. Yes, I will gush about it in a later post), and you've got an autumn party in your belly.

It doesn't sound like much, and it certainly doesn't cost much, but if you are having or going to a get-together and have no clue what to bring- than pear stilton gingersnaps is it. I am a sweet-tooth and loved it. My mom and brother prefer salty snacks and they loved it. Try it. Love it.

Back In The Saddle Again

My computer is full.

While I deleted a bunch of files and freed up 4 GB of memory, that disappeared in one day.

I hate computers.

I did manage to squeeze some photos on it, so now I can begin posting again! So much to show... where to start?

Yesterday I boarded the ferry and came back to the mainland after a blissful 3 days with family and friends.

My older brother is turning 29 this coming Monday, so we had a wee celebration for him on Wednesday.

I had told my sister-in-law that I was going to make Thayne a meat-cake for his birthday. She laughed as if I told a joke. I was dead serious. 

My mom put in the grunt-work of man- handling the flesh and shaping it into lovely little cupcakes.

Like any self-respecting vegetarian, I made the salad.

I also took the time to lay out his gifts: a mustache and gory tattoo wounds.

If I haven't said it before: Thayne is one lucky brother.

Tiana really appreciated the mustache. There are SO many uses for a fake mustache.

If Only...

I had no bills to pay, I might have these boots.

Oh Cassetty.

Thrift magic in 15 mins or less

What better way to become truly thankful for all those hot, restless nights during our heatwave than to go shopping for fall and winter jackets?

It reminds me of all those cold, rainy days that are just around the corner... so suck it up and embrace the heat.

It also gives me free reign on the coats/jackets section of Value Village because no one is even thinking about winter!!!

I've always had good luck with finding great coats while it's still warm out... I've also had luck during the first few weeks of fall weather because people are cleaning out their summer clothes in favour of warmer stuff and they almost always make a run to the thrift store with the items they don't want to wear anymore.

That's when I swoop in and find this jacket:

It's real wool too! All it needs is to be gone over with the wool shaver and it'll be like new.


This one I am convinced IS new. I'm guessing it was a gift and the brat didn't know a good thing when she had it.
It'll help "up" my cred with the teens... I need to maintain all the cred I can get.

I know, I know. It's a little steep for Value Village pricing, but then I remind myself that people spend that much on a pot of MAC eyeshadow.

Done deal.

I've been seeing these jackets in every magazine I flip through. They're always worn open, with the sleeves rolled up 3/4 length and paired with jeans. They're not the short jackets from 3 years ago, they're long in the torso (cover the bum) and the lapels extend quite far down the body. I'd like to sew in some patterned fabric on the inside of the lower sleeve (black and red stripes? perhaps) so that it shows when the sleeves are rolled up.

Bought it for the price of a venti latte.

Sometimes I refer to myself as "thrift wizzard" because I swear that I almost dream things onto the racks. I only spent 15 mins in VV because I had places to go and people to see. As I was heading to the register with my three jackets, I was day-dreaming about how cute a pair of satin shorts would look with the long sport-coat.

BAM!!!

Literally didn't stop walking and just pulled these from the rack. Only slowed down enough to hold them up to myself and eyeball if they'd fit.
Turns out they fit perfectly, AND they're brand new... still have the original tags!!!