I bought lamps

They are really pretty.

The last time I bought lamps for our living room was 10 years ago when we got married. They were $100. I got 4 in a box that was approx. 1 square foot cube.

I mentioned before that we were actually decorating our living room. Will stuff we are actually purchasing from a store. That in our fairy world opinions matches 9who really knows, I'm no fashionista.

I bought 2 lamps so far. They sit on either side of the couch on the end tables.

They look kind of crystal like and are taller than our other ones. They have silver parts on them too.

The lamp shades are grey and square shaped. They match the mirror we bought while we were pretending to be fashionistas.

I tried reading my book this evening with the lamps on in the living room.

It's too dark. I guess they aren't very good lamps.

But they're pretty. And, they match.

I'll have to buy other lamps that actually give light (like the ones I bought in a box).

Sometimes I'm not practical.

Sometimes I don't care.

I bought lamps. They are pretty.

:(

I'm struggling.

I have practically invited another case of the 'Sads' to come live with me.

It relieves me a bit that after waking up this morning with clear symptoms that I realize I haven't had them in a great while. But when I do feel them, my mind immediately goes to Bee.

My mind has actually been on Bee a lot lately. I thought of her several times while we were in Thailand, wondering if there were any dreams she had that got left behind. I thought of how life just goes on even when someone we care about is gone. Physically or relationally. That's the way we were made. To cope.

Today I am thinking of Bee because I feel sad. Not just sad, but like stuck in a deep hole that I am anxious about getting out of, really hoping someone notices I'm here and helps me out, sad.

I sense the heavy feeling that permeates my mind and spirit. I don't like it at all.

I know I'll be ok because there is a reason why the 'Sads' were brought on. Kinda like when you aren't surprised you get a cold after you spend hours in close proximity to someone who has a terrible cold. I wasn't shocked when I woke up this morning with these fretful symptoms.

Heavy hearted, no desire to get out of bed (red flag for me as it's generally hard to keep me in there!), no care in the world about what Wally is doing or how he's feeling, zero care for the fact that my list is waiting with easy items to check off that I know usually gets me excited to complete it. I don't care to e-mail anyone, clean anything, workout in anyway, or even eat. The eating one is another huge flag.

I just want to get warm, snuggle in my chair, turn the lights off and read a book (yes reading in the dark seems a little difficult), with Sweet on my lap (as long as it doesn't take his 20 minutes to get comfortable).

Some might say 'Just do what will make you feel comfortable' but they don't understand that the Sads can often breed off of this hopeless feeling. The Sads (if the Sads is what you have) will burrow further into your heart, like a tick does to your skin, and attach themselves if you aren't careful. Before you know it your sad feeling day turns into utter hopelessness and fear of facing .... well, anything.

I take comfort in the fact that my case of the Sads didn't come out of nowhere this time. They popped up out of an unresolved 'discussion', one that may appear to be nothing but in reality is a pretty big deal affecting my/our entire future.

It's not unfixable but it is uncomfortable, vulnerable and an unwanted issue at an inconvenient time.

I wonder how Bee's Sads started? I wonder if they came very gradually or rather abruptly? I wonder if she felt these things?

I'm guessing that she did, at least to some degree. Probably to a much more serious degree.

I often think of Bee and her outcome. It shakes me to the core some times at the reality of how the Sads can turn into something that is out of anyone's control really. Like a plague of the mind, unwilling to be contained or understood.

It grieves me to no end that Bee didn't win her struggle. She was such an amazing woman, and the outcome of her circumstances doesn't change my belief of that, it just makes me more disappointed in the truth of how finite we humans are.

Bee is free now, I have to hold onto that.

I will be ok.

A Facebookless World

At this point in life I can't even imagine it!

Could you?

A world where you don't know what's happening in every one's lives around you? A world where you can't, with a few clicks of the mouse, know the low down on who's in what relationship, where some one's working or who's having a baby when.

Oh facebook.

I have big and very mixed feelings about this little virtual world.

I've talked to a handful of people that have at different times taken matters into their own hands and detached themselves from the drama that is facebook.

Most of them have taken LOAs (leave of absence)from it, few have fully committed to leaving it completely.

When asked why they have said 'It's just too much. Too much drama, miscommunication, and honestly I was addicted.'

I totally get it. I am a facebook-aholic.

I am the one who updates their status at least twice a day. I am the one who says more than they should. I am the one who gets misunderstood often. I am the one who's had friends delete them out of the blue.

Now I will tell you straight up honestly I am not someone who really gets all twelve year old girl like and worries about losing facebook friends pretending I was BFFs with everyone of them. I understand and appreciate when someone needs to make the right decision for themselves and 9 times out of 10 you weren't really friends anyways.

Recently though I noticed someone who up until lately I had been very very close with that was no longer on my list. I thought maybe that person just deleted their account but then saw that they were still friends with other mutual friends. This is still someone in my life so it wasn't a matter of 'oh they were just getting rid of the extras and really keeping the close ones'. I'm guessing there was more to the story.

Anyhow, this, along with my great addiction has got me seriously preparing to dislodge myself from the facebook society. If I'm that annoying or over the top that I'm shooing real friends away (or at least I thought they were) maybe it's time to cut the cord. (Not to mention the fact that if you have relatives that are already annoyed by you this just gives them 10 times the ammunition).

Maybe the friendship was done anyways and that's ok, different seasons require different people, but, why take the gamble.

Were we really meant to know everything about everyone all of the time? No.

Have you had a conversation with a facebook friend that you hadn't actually seen face to face in months? The conversation is like this:

'Hi! How have you been? (doesn't wait for you to answer) I see you went on a trip. It looked amazing!'

'Yeah it really was.' You say.

Pause...

You offer 'So you're getting married in Cuba? That's nice. In June eh? I hope you enjoy!'

They reply 'Yeah, so and so's annoying though, we had to kick them out of the bridal party.'

'Oh that's too bad.'

More weird silence.

You're 'friend' says 'Well, I better go. It was great to chat, we should do coffee sometime!'

'Yeah, right. See ya!' Then you feel relieved the run in is over.

I won't lie the benefits of facebook for me have far outweighed the cons for the most part. I've connected with people I would never have known otherwise, made and deepened friendships with people that I would never know now had I not been able to find them or have free access to bug them.

I even noticed at work after I had become facebook friends with many of my co workers that once they got to know the less quiet, more confident side of Eva there was more delight in our encounters. In fact I even told Wally that one day I noticed after the facebook introduction to my co workers, when I was running into them at work I could tell there was this look of expectation on their face. They saw me and were ready to be entertained by a story, funny comment or something.

It's actually a really strange feeling to have people act that way, and to know it was just from them seeing a little piece of yourself exposed in a realatively unreal place.

Of course with every positive there's a negative and I am now noticing or imagining my personality getting 'old' and grating on people's nerves. Perhaps why my friend deleted me.

Right now I am awaiting the completion of my Compasio 5K Fundraiser and probably my Garage sale fundraiser before pressing the morbid 'deactivation' button. (It is great for fundraising and I still have a ways to go).

I am both dreading it and looking forward to it. I guess I should work on getting e-mail addresses of those I do like to stay in touch with. I hope this will give my good friends and I a chance to really communicate and make more of an effort ot stay in touch - I seriously could make a living out of doing coffee.

I'm not saying I'm staying off of facebook forever - we'll see. But I am definitely taking a good long break from it.

The facebook world will never be the same ;)

'More time to myself'

I was spending some time with a friend the other day and that phrase came out of her mouth.

For some reason it struck me. Really struck me.

I'm not really sure why exactly. Maybe because that seems to be what every one (including myself) is running around in life trying to do.

The thing is .... really, who else does it belong to?

When I hear that phrase and think of my own 'time to myself' I immediately melt into a puddle of ahhhhhhhh.

What does it mean?

For me it's a gluttonous act of whatever I feel like. It could be reading a book in silence, eating my favourite snack alone, going to the book store (oh my goodness bookstores!!!!) just to look around, hoping I have money I forgot about living in my purse.

I means having nothing to do that I don't want to do, in otherwaords spending my time on me without any guilt what-so-ever.

I can only imagine how much the value of this experience goes up when you have children.

Is it a North American or Western thing to want time to yourself? Is it 'normal' to hope for or expect? Or is it something we used to have back int he day that got lost in the bustle of trying to achieve more than necessary in a shorter period of time?

I don't know the answer but I know that it's not a statement I want to have to say very often.

I think it's like hoping you'll get just one more gasp of air while fighting waves in the middle of an ocean. At least often that's how it feels when you are saying it. I know, I used to say it more often, and I still think it more than I should.

Could you imagine a life where we loved everything we did? Where we never longed for more of any good thing? Where we knew our limits?

Last night while out with that same friend I ordered a drink from Starbucks. the ladies who made it warned of great pleasure from it. They didn't lie.

I don't remember if there's ever been a time, at least not in my recent history, that I've enjoyed something so much.

I drank about an inch out of the grande cup and honestly felt like I'd taken so much enjoyment out of it thus far I needed no more. In fact I wondered if having more would ruin it.

Let me tell you, in the realm of tasting that's not something I experience often or maybe ever. It was almost a holy moment.

I savoured every taste for at least the first quarter of the drink. I would pick it up, hold it in my hands, feel the warmth. Then I'd stare at the artificial-but-who-cares whipped cream on top, and the perfectly drizzled caramel sauce on top in wonder.

I'd slowly bow my head towards the drink, close my eyes and let the white foam touch my lips adding a coolness. Then I'd tip the cup ever so gently forward so that the pool of hidden goodness under the sea of cream would invade my taste buds and flood my mouth.

Oh. My. Goodness. It was so wonderful.

I don't often enjoy something so much I want to take it slow. That pretty much applies to everything in my life. Once I know what I like I want to go after it full throttle so that I can just enjoy my new discovery.

This drink was different. It slowed me down and kept me in the moment of it's greatness. By doing so it enveloped me, slowed time and heightened every sense. It was good.

In a life that seems impossible to enjoy every moment or even catch a moment to enjoy maybe we should try to just take a couple each day to just sit still and absorb. Maybe some days they'll be rich with flavour, maybe some days they'll be a little flat and watered down. But I think we are hear to learn how to thirst for both at different times.

That all being said 'More time to myself' never seems like a chore to endure.

Does it?

Drink up whatever moment that you have today.

The aftermath

This is a bit weird for me to say but life is waaaaaay more different since we got back from Thailand than I ever thought it would be.

As I mentioned before I have guarded myself carefully from having any crazy, over-the-top experience that would leave me feeling more empty and cynical after the trip was over. (I'm cynical enough on my own!)

In doing so I kept a nice level head through out our stay and even upon our initial re-entry home. I guess that's why I am finding it so strange that I feel different several days after our return, I feel like our world is changing so much.

The obvious one I've talked about had been my decisions with work, exploring my options and just making sure that whatever I'm doing, I'm enjoying it, despite money and 'strings'.

These decisions have ultimately brought me a feeling of freedom. I know now the benefits of doing what you believe in faaaaaar outweigh doing things because of logistics. I wish I could convey this more clearly or in a more dramatic fashion but I'm not sure how.

I just feel so much lighter.

Up until yesterday I thought it was just my job that was changing (or perhaps my approach to it). Then I talked to Wally...

He had mentioned last week that he spoke again with the Vice President of the company he works for and now answers to regarding the recent departure of Wally's immediate boss. He had approached the VP regarding his boss's leaving and where that put Wally - he wanted to know straight up if there was a chance of advancement in the future.

As they spoke Wally learned that one of 2 things would happen: he'd either work towards the promotion and within the next 6 months have the position (which the company saw him very capable of), OR they may decide to go with some new system making Wally's job completely different and in fact NOT what he went to school for. He'd go from a Computer Programmer Analyst to a Business Analyst, he'd still do programming but mostly ... other stuff I don't get.

Wally warned me Monday night he had something to talk about but when I brought it up at home he just didn't feel like chatting so I figured it wasn't a big deal. Last night I reminded him again and that's when he told me that the company had decided already (it was supposed to take 6 months to a year!) they were going with some 'systems approach' and his job would soon be changing.

I began giving birth to several tiny kittens.

Wally continued looking at his ipod as if he just gave me the score of a baseball game neither of us cared about.

As the kittens came I squealed and questioned. Questioned and squealed. While Wally remained unfazed.

We had discussed this possibility last week talking excitedly about the possibilities in a couple of years of him looking for another job, maybe moving to another city, MAYBE taking time to go to Thailand again only longer (ok that was me mostly projecting my hopes and dreams). At the time we were kinda liking the idea of a new challenge ... in a couple of years though, not now. Or at least I wasn't liking it now.

And now, a day later, Wally still sits quite content with the possibility of trying something new, enjoying the respect of his position and new found relationships at work (work wise that is).

I have never seen him so content in his work.

Ever.

It's almost unnerving to me. Yet in a good way.

We've been married ten years. Not one of them was easy. But if each of them was there to make today as great as it is .... I'm glad we had them.

Our life isn't perfect, but it is stronger, gentler, more fun, happier and better than it's ever been.

Wally is fulfilled and nothing could be more fulfilling to me at this time in my life.

I'm a runner ...

Running.

My new thing.

Well, sort of. I kind of feel like a fraud saying I'm a runner.

I mean, I wear real underwear that bunches up (and don't care who knows it), I don't have any special running gear like a 'breathable jacket', an armband for my ipod (yet), or the 'I'm so cool, this is so freakin' easy, I don't even sweat' look while I'm doing it.

Nope. That's so not me.

A couple days ago when I was out doing my very first run outside (ever) within minutes my ipod (which was Wally's and he gave it to my under strict directions to take good care of it, as I have a reputation of ... losing, scratching and breaking things like that) went flying out of my pocket onto the grass.

Let's just say it's hard to look graceful picking up an ipod off the groudn while still trying to maintain cool athelete mode. It was Sunday morning, no one was around. Thank God.

I can't talk about my lack of great appearance in the sport without mentioning my rooster hair (why would I fix it when I'm gonna have a shower later anyways?!), or my blazing red Rudolf nose (well, I can run in the fog without fear).

All these things combined create quite an entertaining scene, one I wasn't too sure about taking on the road - literally.

But I did last Sunday because in less than 3 weeks I want to achieve my 5K running goal. One I set mysefl up for nicely by turning it into a fund raising event. I really wasn't having any sorts of doubts about being able to achieve this until I got sick the week before we left for Thailand. I remember trying to do my second 25 minute run and barely making 12. My head, nor my heart were in it, let alone my body.

I knew I had to rest. Then of course we were away for 2 weeks at which point I had no plans what so ever of running in any sort of heat, as I was used to the depths of our Canadian winter. We did get plenty of exercise riding our bicycles but that's not the same.

When we got home I worried as it had been 3 weeks plus since running and I had a serious case of jetlag (which I've just overcome!!!). I tried one run on the treadmill and it was sad but I tried. That was my only comfort.

Great spring weather was ushered in on the weekend so I decided 'it's now or never'. My first goal was 10 mins jogging, 5 mins walking, then 10 mins jogging outside. It's one of the workouts they give you before you're hurled into the crazy 20 min run.

Well I did it. Which was a relief because it seems to be that everyone believes that when I say: 'I gonna do blah, blah and blah' that I'm actually gonna do it!!!

It's kind of funny to me when people refer to my 'adventurous spirit' (had that one several times lately from many different people), or my 'zest for life', or my 'crazy ideas'. I seriously always respond in my head with 'WHAT?! You don't know very many exciting people then!'

I'm so incredibly ... run of the mill, not to mention a fraidy cat.

I dont' mean that in a bad way, I just mean that I realize that I'm just normal. I havent' lived in another country, I still keep every receipt from every special trip, I have a regular job, and I thoroughly annoy lots of people (maybe there's something to be said for that -ha ha ha!!).

Anyhoo, I definitely have wondered about this running thing BUT am determined to finish. Today I ran 21 mins straight outside. Or in my language: six songs.

Here are a few things I observed while running:

The first 5-10 mins seem like absolute torture (considering I only run for 20 straight right now I'm not a fan of that ratio).

While being tortured I realize I'm in love with children's sidewalk chalk drawings, they make me smile big every time I see some (even if I've seen them 3 days in a row!). They make things so much better.

As I continue on I decide I love crescents. They're great! You can go down one and know that in a couple mins you will end up on the very same street again - no worries!!! For a girl who is seriously directionally challenged and who lives in a subdivision this is amazing.

Minute 13 - I discover that by pretending a song was written and sung only for me I pretty much feel like I'm a superstar, which makes me think: 'Hells yeah I'm a runner!'

About 15 mins in I wonder who the hell came up with this goal. I hate them. I contemplate quitting.

16 mins in I decide not to because there'll be at least 5 people a the 5K fund raiser and I must live up to the moment. Even if I'm dying and I have four people walking my sorry legs to the finish line.

17-19 mins of the run I visualize a ridiculous slow motion scene of me crossing the finish line with crowds of people squirting their water bottles at me and hugging on me while I do the ugly cry and not care that I look like I was just run over by a train. (I'd better work on a finish line .... and recruiting people to squirt water bottles. Maybe a make up artist would be a smart way to go too).

At 20 mins I think 'I could totally run further'.

Around 21-22 mins my six songs are done and my favourite one to celebrate my success comes on. 'Perfect' by Pink. Love Pink.

Then I walk myself towards home happy with achieving my day's running goal.

Once I get near my block I begin jogging again, just in case the neighbours think I have wimped out half way through and are onto my 'I'm a runner' facade.

Once I get into the house I realize that the side of our crescent I ran up never saw me running in the first place so I could've just passed for a walker. The added torture was in vain.

Oh well.

I'm a runner .... sort of.

Freddie

I'm currently in my favourite chair. Snuggled at the perfect temperature under an afghan made by one of my grandmas and my favourite lovable pooch.

I've just finished my third chapter of the day of a book that has hooked me in all too easily. It's called 'Water for Elephants'. Glo and I decided that one of the books we would read for our 'book club' would be a book turned into a movie. We'd read the book first then see the movie after (and I'm guessing that as usual we'll like the book better).

I also just finished my very first cup of loose leaf tea. Mmmmmmmm... the smell alone melts me. The flavour for today? Hazelnut Cream. I really don't even need to drink it, it smells so good. My bladder is bursting from the tasting. It will have to wait because my dog is perfectly comfortable. Aside from my pinching and nearly bursting organ, so am I.

What's on my mind today?

Freddie.

I mentioned Freddie a few days ago. He was the gentleman that lives at the dump. He's around 60 with a smile as bright as the sun. Has a young wife an a 3 or 4 year old son.

Ok I've gotta go ... hold on.

Ahhhhhhhh ... my bladder is singing like a black southern choir in the middle of a Sunday morning service. Nice.

Back to Freddie.

The day I met him he was greeting the Compasio staff with what I guessing was his usual smile and kind words. His teeth were discoloured and if I remember correctly there may have been a couple missing.

From what I was told Freddie is a generous soul, willing to share what he has with those he loves.

Both Wally and I were introduced to Freddie while visiting the dump that Thursday but unfortunately (or fortunately) that is not the main impression of him we got to bring home with us.

Our introduction to him at the dump was rather brief. Enough to learn his role there, in some sort of unofficial leadership. He was loved.

What we will remember of Freddie happened the next day and was an unforgettable experience shared with others.

It was Friday afternoon and Wally and I had arrived on time to meet some staff to go play soccer in the Muslim community with some kids. Compasio does this each Friday afternoon. This would be our last item of business to complete until we could say we had seen every part of the operation.

When we arrived we sat for a few minutes and waited. There were a handful of staff around attending to their different jobs. We were relaxing on the couch when out of what seemed to be nowhere Freddie arrived at the office door.

What was not with him was that ever bright smile. Freddie was in tears.

As the staff opened the door to him and ushered him in. He began talking quickly in Burmese, letting the emotions and facts of his story escape.

Compasio's community staff are Burmese (I believe all are, if I'm wrong there are at least several). One of the male staff was there and began talking to Freddie, trying to calm him and find out what was so upsetting.

Other staff began trickling around as Freddie settled onto a spot on the hard cool floor in front of the office doors. There were 6 of us circled around Freddie, biding our time til we could help. (Ok so wally and I knew we'd likely not be of any help but we sat ready to listen).

Freddie talked quickly yet gently. We waited quietly and impatiently for the interpretation. It came slowly and rather choppy as his emotions flowed in and out of his story.

The staff interpret ting asked why he was upset.

It seemed that Freddie had been lent a fishing pole by that staff the day before during our visit to the dump, his son had been playing with it and it broke.

That was simple. He just needed to be reassured that it was not the end of the world. The staff did so, telling him everything was fine.

The conversation went on.

Freddie explained that he yelled at his son for playing with it and in doing so got his wife upset. She did not like the way he spoke to the boy.

Hmmmmm ... interesting.

The staff continued to try and understand Freddie's big problem, why there were so many tears. So far it sounded like a normal domestic spat, not really tear worthy.

As the English speaking female staff pressed with questions to be given through the Burmese staff in the middle, it seemed like forever by the time we were able to piece together what was going on. It seemed as though an interrogation of htis poor man was necessary to find out how anyone could make it better.

As time went on and the questions keep rolling the room was filled with confusion.

Freddie explained that his wife was mad that he spoke to the boy like that because he wasn't the father. They'd been married longer than the boy had been around but apparently Freddie was told years ago that he could not father children. In short, the assumption was that the wife had a child by someone else during their marriage and though Freddie fathered this child in every other way, the discipline given was not accepted, at least not by his wife.

At this point you may be confused. We all were. Especially the staff that had known freddie all this time and his family. They were all shocked at the fact that this boy wasn't his biological son and that this woman basically threw him out.

According to Freddie his wife had told his to leave their home (at the dump) and that if he didn't she would get her brothers after him, according to them he was an old man who was good for nothing. He would be beaten and who knows what else. I remember something about him having to pay money to someone to for causing trouble. His life and livlihood was taken away in a matter of hours.

It took quite a while before the 6 of us fully understood what Freddie was getting at, why he was truly hurt. Was it because of the question of paternity? Maybe, but he seemed ok about the fact that he was possibly raising someone else's son. Was it the fact that the woman he loved didn't want him anymore and he was considered to be expired goods? Possibly. Or was it that he had literally packed up all of his belongings on his bicycle, rode miles into town and now had no where to go and no one to love? This combined with the last question would be my best guesses.

Over the hour that we sat watching and listening to Freddie explain the traumatic events that were currently his life, we watched this adult man cry openly about his sudden losses and need to talk to someone.

Several times during that hour Freddie asked for Jimbo and A-man (a.k.a. A-bag). When the staff asked why them he said he just wanted to talk and that he loved them. He would then cry again and wipe away his tears. When encouraged to sit on a couch or a mat he refused and stayed on the floor. During pauses of discussion amongst the English speakers when trying to figure out the best solution as the people he requested weren't available right then, he made eye contact with each of us around the room and give a seated bow of thanks and say thank you in his language.

Once Jimbo was reached and a semi-solution was figured out, it was agreed that Freddie would be staying a couple of nights with a friend of his down at the market. Jimbo would go talk with him later that night.

This man melted my heart. As did his story.

I'm not sure which part of it got to me most. The fact that he loved the this boy birthed during his marriage whom he had always assumed wasn't his (although could have been, doctors are wrong everyday), that this man loved his wife enough to overlook this dust bunny bit of information, or that he was upset about leaving his home that happened to be at the town dump.

Or it could be that he was openly broken over the entire situation without pride or worry about what we thought, only caring to be heard and loved by someone trusted.

Wow. How much life is different here in North America, or at least the parts that I'm familiar with.

I hope Freddie is well today. I hope his smile is shining like the sun. I hope he is surrounded by someone who loves and listens to him.

I suppose when it all comes down to it. That's all we really need.

Love and Listen.