I still cry for you.

It's hard to believe at the end of this month it has only been one year since Jimmy left this world. It feels like longer. I somehow have faith she is in a better place where she has finally learned to love the water and fetch sticks for whom ever is tossing them.

Not a day goes by that I don't still think of her. I only hope she knows I tried really hard to give her the best life I could. 

I hope she felt loved, and important here. She is. 

 This was her favourite toy until she tore its ear off. Then it was suddenly filth to her. 

We hiked a lot together, I miss that about her. This was in the Tombstones. Rainiest weekend of my life! 

 Pre-ascent pep talk/kiss. More for me. I was scared of the bears... 

I took this when she was sick. She slept a lot in her last days. 

Science needs to invent a device so that we can bring back the dead. Maybe we'd all cry a little less. 

I do know that Jim taught me a lot about the world. She taught me patients, and how to love the unloveable-you just do. She taught me it was okay to wear my heart upon my sleeve, and that getting hurt was just another part of life I hadn't yet come to know. 

Jim came to me in my darkest year and departed when the light came back. I somehow think she was an angel sent to me. After being assaulted I couldn't be alone, so I got her on a whim. I had no idea what I was getting myself into, but decided I needed some sort of protection from everyone/thing. We struggled trying to make things work between us (yes, like a human relationship, we butted heads.) I cried a lot, she ate nearly everything I loved. But in the end I relied on bitter apple spray, and a shorter leash for our walks. Eventually we had become soul mates. I took her everywhere; I preferred walks with Jim over dates with friends, and boys. We'd get in the car after work on Friday and return Sunday evening like it was an obligation to leave the city lights behind us. Though we only had one short year together, and it was a dark valley we walked through, looking back it might have also been the best year of my life. 

I've been told there is one soul that will make you see the world differently, and for me, that was Miss Jimmy-Choo. For whatever reason God put her in my path I cannot thank Him enough. 

Rest peacefully, my love.  

You know when your face gets hot, you feel a little dizzy, like you might lose your lunch?

Or when someone says something that just breaks your heart, but deep down you already knew that's what they were going to say, and you could crawl under a rock cursing yourself for being so stupid? "How could you?"

Or when you look up and sheepishly ask, "Why God? I thought this was finally it, no?"

I am sick to my stomach with fear; dizzy in thought; and waiting for the tears.

Happy New Year Rob.
My, how a year can change things.

I am excited for your new walk in life.

Hard work pays off.

You're proof of that.

Though you're far, you're near. Peace be with you.

dream big

I am gathering information and employing my imagination in preparing myself for what is to come: Life.

My 29th birthday is rapidly approaching and I feel as if 30 is a shorter distance away; it is time to get going before the going has up and left me.

It is easy for me to feel as though my life has no purpose and is without meaning - as you know, this is not the life I would have chosen if it were up to me. I know I am an important role in my work place as it could not function without me, but that does not automatically fill one with the satisfaction and lust for life that one needs.

My passion is in food. I don’t mean the mundane task of eating the food placed in front of us at each meal. I mean the bringing together of our loved ones; the reuniting with long lost friends; the falling in love with a stranger. We build our lives around food. We nourish our souls along side our family and friends. Our busy lives disconnect and separate us, but dinner will always encourage sharing and warmth.

It is in these moments while gathered around the table that I love to step back and watch life unfold its beauty. I take pleasure in knowing that a simple dish can create life. It brings reminiscing, makes plans for the future, and comforts us in ways only our loved ones know how.

Therefore, the way I see it, the maker of food makes life. Who wouldn’t want to be a chef?

- "Be ignited, or be gone." - Mary Oliver

Float or Paddle?

I always thought my life would be a little bit more profound than this.

This would be the time my grandmother might say something like this:

"You know Mary Anne Radmacher once said, 'Courage doesn’t always roar. Sometimes courage is the quiet voice at the end of the day saying, ‘I will try again tomorrow.” and it would resonate within my soul. I'd leave the conversation thinking maybe all is fair and just in this world.

But the truth of the matter is, this time, I am actually really bored. I know that bored people are only boring souls - and maybe it's not that I am bored, but rather unchallenged. In fact, bored is the wrong word all together - I always have things to do to keep me busy, but I've done these things year in and year out. I'm feeding my soul Kraft Dinner, if you will.

Tonight my response to her might be:

"Time is running out, Grandma." Because, it is.

Some days you wake up feeling good about the life you've created, and others you think back and wonder at which point in life you allowed your flame die out? When it happens, it's a startling realization.

I've come to a really big fork in life: float, or paddle. 'Courage doesn't always roar.' or 'I will try again tomorrow.'

And This Is What I Do In My Room

I've come to realize I now need more quiet time with God than I used to. I am giving back to Him all of the blessings he has given me. I want to get to know Him better; I know His words and his Grace, but I do not know Him so well.

I think I might have figured out a very small part of His plan for me, but there is still so much to sort out. Maybe God has made me struggle so much because He knows how strong I can be, and that maybe I am supposed to be an example for others. If I become the best that I can be, instead of playing that small pitiful being I've become, and share the love that God has given me with Him and to others my suffering may end. Perhaps it was not my faith He was testing, but that I was unfocused and needed that push to walk before God instead of crawling.

The Moment It All Changed

I haven't been having the best of weeks so I decided to reach back into the old me and get out my "old IPod" which reminds me of times that I was not anything like the me I am now. Back in the day I did a lot of things I am not really that proud of, things I'd never do now. I don't talk much about those days because mostly I am embarrassed for myself. I served a couple of girls tonight who reminded me a lot of my old self. I hope they don't make the same mistakes I did.

On my drive home tonight I was thinking about my past life and who I once was. I was a train wreck waiting to happen, but I was really happy, and very healthy at the time. I was a machine. I made a lot of mistakes, and I have a lot of regrets from those days, but I was happy while making them. When I sit here and think about it, I can almost see those days happening before me and I imagine God looking down at me shaking his head and rolling his eyes thinking, "Where did I go wrong with that one?" Back then God really got my left overs, no, he got the left overs the dog wouldn't eat. I knew God, but not anything like I do today.

I was a wreck. I slept around a lot and I got really drunk almost every night. I was self-sabotaging, and self-destructive. I played guys like they were board games: at one point I was seeing four boys, four boys, and I got away with it too! I ruined friendships - I was seeing a guy who I really, really, really liked and was crushed when he left to Spain for a few months. So when he left, I started sleeping with his best friend for no reason! Needless to say, when he got back from his trip it was his turn to play me. I was well played and I deserved it. The part that makes me laugh, and it shouldn't, is that he wrote on the bathroom wall at his work place, "For a good time call ***, she'll suck your di%k and take it in the a$$," (which isn't true) and I got quite a few calls. The worst part was that I had a really good job in insurance and blew it - I quit because I'd rather work at the bar where I can drink for free whenever I wanted to. I was such a mess and then some.

It wasn't until one night where I was nearly raped in a park by a "friend" that my eyes opened to what my life had become. He was supposed to be walking me home to my best friend's place a few blocks away. We'd made it 2 blocks before he had pulled me into a park, pushed me down, pulled my pants down, held me down with his knees and put his fingers inside of me. All I could do was scream but at that time of the night and place in this city there are never people around, so it was no use. He kept saying that, "it was going to feel good and that I would like it." I kept saying, "stop you're my ex's best friend." Clearly he didn't care about his friends so I had to try something different because I couldn't bare to have him get any farther than he had already gotten. I can't imagine what could have happened. I am thankful that I have a way with words and was able to convince him that if I could pull my pants back up I'd give him a blow job. Thankfully he fell for it. I don't think I've ever run so fast in my life. Adrenaline, panic, fear, and anxiety are the things that got me through.

It was this event that turned my life around. It's this moment that made me the square, anti-fun, sit-alone-at-home-on-Friday-night-reading-science-magazines that I am today. Though the transition hasn't been easy and I was a mess for most of the time (and still am), I think I've nearly become comfortable with myself. I still have trouble being alone, I still feel like puking when I see him around town. I still struggle. I'm having less fun now, but I think in the end I'll be better off.

The whole point of this blog was not to tell a tale, or spill my secrets, but to post some songs from my previous life. This is what I used to listen to. Proudly I can say I still do.

Here goes:

The Hip always make my days brighter:




Best for last :]











Lastly, this is why I wanted to play the guitar:

money can't buy my happiness or love

Spilled the beans about the culinary arts interview on Monday because I was so excited I couldn't contain myself... Thought they'd be proud/happy for me. Wrong
If I stay here, I get a significant raise...
I don't want a raise, I want to be happy.
My family doesn't understand faith, happiness or dreams
They only understand the bottom line, money in the bank, big houses and fancy cars.
I feel stuck - obligated to my family.
I feel like I've sold my soul to my family and didn't get a receipt.

I think if I go, I will be shunned. Maybe that's what I have to do and hope they will understand.

Advice: Never open a family operated business; it'll ruin your family's relationship and tightness.

I applied for the Culinary Arts and Business Ownership Program at The Art Institute of Vancouver last week. I got a call today saying they wanted to do an over the phone interview with me on Monday. I am really nervous and I stumble on my words a lot whenever my words are important! Why can't I just write an essay!?!

I suppose this is the time that I should start to make some serious decisions and stop thinking about changing the colour of the walls in my house.

If only a gigantic sign with the word "yes!" would fall from the sky... I guess the worst that could happen is that I get there, learn to cook better than I know now, be really lonely, finish and move back. It could be worse. I'll still have to make my list..

Maybe the doctors will be better...

Off to do some thinking... I've been feeling really ill for the last two days so some quiet-laying-in-my-bed time is needed.

My destiny

Today I am mulling over the word destiny. To me it's a very vague word, or maybe it's that I don't completely understand it yet.

Is destiny unavoidable?
Do we choose our own destiny, or do we think we are choosing our own way but our destiny is really inevitable or fixed and we end up at a predetermined place anyway?

How do we know when we have reached our destiny?
Is destiny the ultimate end - death, or is it when we feel complete in our lives?

I dunno.