Embrace the Rainbow!

To start off, I have to mention that I can't sleep!  Insomnia rules the night, apparently.  If you haven't already, check out the time stamps on the most recent posts.  I often can't sleep because I am simply thinking too much.  Hence I consider myself to have a restless mind.

Okay, so here is the main thing I want to say.  I have been thinking about this for the last few days, but I have saved it for today for a reason, which you will discover upon reading further.  Now you're hooked, aren't ya?! Muahahaha! Goodness I need to sleep more.  I am using my evil laugh on the internet... sad.

Here it is:

A friend of mine is really good at making cakes.  Earlier this week she posted some pictures of these amazing rainbow cupcakes that she made.  The most hilarious thing is that a friend of hers who saw the picture had previously made a rainbow cake, and warned her to watch out for "psychedelic poop".  (I am pretty sure that this is now the third time that I have used the word "poop" in this blog.)  Upon seeing the pictures (and reading that they could induce colourful poop) I decided that I would try my hand at making some.  So, tomorrow after church, I am going to come home and make some rainbow cupcakes!  I am very excited. 

So, why did I wait this long? First of all, I work a lot, and tomorrow is my first opportunity this week to do any baking. Second of all, and most importantly, today is the Gay Pride Parade in Vancouver!!!  A few years ago I went to Vancouver with a friend to watch the fireworks that are put on every year.  It just so happened that the day we went was the weekend of the Pride festivities, and we chose to walk down Davie Street to get to English Bay where we were going to watch the fireworks. 

***  Christians beware!!!! The following is my personal opinion, and is likely

not the view of most other Christians.  This does not make me a heretic,

and if you think it does, then perhaps you need to keep reading and/or

go talk to your doctor about having been brain washed.  I hear

the process is reversible by simply opening your eyes.  *** 

When I was walking down Davie street which is sometimes referred to as “Gay Street” I was overwhelmed by what I saw.  No, it was nothing bad.  On the contrary, I saw more colour than I had ever seen on one street.  There were rainbow flags everywhere I looked.  I happen to love bright colours, so this was a wonderful sight to me.  The actual Pride Parade was the next day, so the street had already been closed down in preparation for the festivities.  There were people walking up and down the street, and they all had one thing in common: a sense of freedom.

Here is what I really need to say:  Gays and lesbians are people too!  To some, that may seem obvious, but the oppression that is often attributed with someone being openly homosexual is abhorrent.   I have heard gay people talk about Christians as people who are cruel and discriminatory because of their prejudices against homosexuality.  This is a fair assessment on their part, because from what I have personally seen, there are not a lot of Christians who are open to purposefully associating with gays and lesbians.

The reason that Christians started all this “gay bashing” is because the Bible specifically speaks out against homosexuality.  It is a sin, and sin is something that God can’t be around.

HOWEVER, every single person in the entire history of the world is a sinner!  Seriously!  All of those Christians who are out holding up signs and shouting hateful words at people for their sins, they are all equally as guilty and just as impure and undeserving of God’s grace and mercy as any of the people whom they speak out against.  It makes me sick.  The thing that drives me absolutely bonkers is that Jesus himself speaks out against one thing more than any other topic: hypocrisy!  He literally HATES it!

Just because someone is gay, doesn’t mean that God doesn’t love them.  God loves EVERYONE.

 

According to the Bible, acting out on homosexuality  is a sin.  So is adultery.  So is murder.  So is stealing.  So is lying.  Do you get it?  They are all the same in God’s eyes, so who are we to look at the sins of another and declare that person unworthy of God’s grace?  We are nothing but equally guilty sinners, and if we have anything to say about it, it should be that God loves them, and is willing to forgive them, if only they should ask.

Anyone can be saved.  Anyone can become a Christian and be forgiven of all of the sins in their life, past present and future, by giving their life over to Jesus and stepping into all of the wonderful things that He has in store for them.

Bah.  I am frustrated.  I don’t even know how to continue articulating myself on this subject without people getting mad at me on either side of the issue.  Pretty much, I feel that I am just as “bad” as a gay person, and I am just as acceptable as a gay person in the eyes of Christ.  I believe in a God who loves and accepts.  I believe in a God who forgives and redeems all those who are washed in the blood of Christ.  I also believe that hell is real, and if ANY person, (because we all have sin) whether they be gay straight or bisexual does not accept Christ, they will not be forgiven and therefore, any sins that they have committed in their life will be held against them.

That is the thing with God.  He is ALL love, and He is completely 100% pure.  The reason He has to make the choice to cast judgment on sinners, is because sin is impure.  God is pure, and He therefore cannot be around sin.  (This is not to say that God is only in some places and with some people.  I believe that God is everywhere, and plays a part in everyone’s life journey whether they are aware of it and believe it or not.)  The beauty of it all is that God doesn’t WANT to be away from us.  He is ALL love, like I said, so when He sees us sinning it breaks His heart.  If we have not been saved through Jesus Christ, then in the end, we have to be judged for what we have done.  God doesn’t ever force Himself on anyone.  I just wish that everyone could know how much God loves them, because if everyone one honestly knew, I Am sure that we would all one day be together in heaven.

Alright… back to rainbows and cupcakes and stuff.  When I was walking down Davie Street, I saw freedom.  It may not have been the freedom that I feel in Christ, knowing that I am forgiven, but it was freedom nonetheless.  These people were all walking around as equals with the rest of society.  What a shame it is that they can only REALLY be so free when they congregate together for one weekend.  Oppression of gays and lesbians needs to STOP!  How would you like it if all of a sudden the major sin in your life was all of a sudden made known and declared “socially unacceptable”?  How would you feel if one of the only ways to feel truly free was to get together with everyone else like you and have a parade, trying with all your might to get others to see that you are human too?  I bet you would see things a little differently. 

That being said, I say we all embrace the rainbow!  Not necessarily gays specifically, but just people as a whole.  The rainbow that is the symbol for Gay Pride stands for diversity.  We live in a world of much diversity on many levels, so let’s expand our horizons.  Quit with the boring monochrome life and join the rainbow movement – embrace diversity.  You are a part of it, after all.

*Rainbow cupcake post soon to come*

Word mix up!

I am pretty sure that most people have seen or heard the joke “Dyslexics untie!”   

If not, it is a simple play on words making fun of people who have dyslexia.  Dyslexia is a condition that causes an affected person to see numbers and letters differently than how they are actually written.  Sometimes the letters appear to be switched around pr upside down, and sometimes entire words seem to have switched places.  This also goes for numbers.  That being said, the above joke should read “Dyslexics unite!”

Being a person with dyslexia, I do find this joke slightly amusing.  The first time I read it, it looked like it said “Dyslexics unite!” which I guess is the point of the joke.  At any rate, there are some people who are very self conscious about their dyslexia.  It is considered a learning disability and people can have it in varying degrees.  As with the OCD, I am on the lower end of the scale, thankfully.  

I had a lot of trouble with math as a student, not because I didn’t understand the concept, but because I literally saw the numbers wrong.  The way that things would switch around on the page made algebra especially frustrating. 

Aside from dyslexia being a burden, it can also be entertaining.  I have had many instances where I read a sign on a building, and it looked totally different to me than it did to everyone else.  When I read it, I would laugh out loud.  People would ask what was so funny and I was say that it was the sign.  Then, they would tell me what it actually said, and it was almost always less interesting than the way my mind saw it.
 

Some common mix ups that I encounter are the words life and life.  Get it?  It should say file and life… but that is how my mind sees it.   In fact, I actually meant to type “file and life” but my mind did it wrong.  Kinda funny.  Another mix up I often encounter is the STOP sign.  One time in high school, I was in the car with my friend and I giggled when I saw a STOP sign.  She asked what was funny and I said that my dyslexia saw something different when I read the STOP sign.  She said to me, “What does it say? ‘RACE’?”  I laughed so hard!  Unfortunately, all I really saw was “POTS”.

Thanks for "listening."

What did you just say?

Over the years, I have picked up different languages, some more entirely than others.  In order of how well I know the languages, these are the languages I know: English, French, German, American Sign Language, Spanish.

I have been known to start rambling on in different languages without even noticing it, sometimes even mixing more than one language together.  I guess it is just how my mind works – it spits out the first thing it thinks of.  I have had dreams in other languages before, now that was interesting!

The other day I was visiting my mother who was raised in a home where German and English were both spoken evenly.  I was chatting with my mom and then I asked her something in German.  She answered me in English without even noticing it.  I pointed it out to her saying, “I just asked you something in German, and you replied in English.”  She then said to me, “You didn’t say anything in German.”  Followed quickly by, “Oh wait, you totally did!  That’s weird.”  Interestingly enough, my mother has never spoken French, but with all the babbling I have done in French over the years, she has come to understand me when I say things in French.  The only languages she doesn’t really understand when I speak to her are Spanish and Sign Language.

Sometimes I need to be careful what I say to whom and in what language.  One time I said “gracias” (thank you) habitually to a Latino person who speaks English as their first language.  I got a dirty look.  I guess they thought that I assumed that they spoke Spanish, but really I was just saying it because I speak Spanish, and it was the first thing to come to my mind.

I tend to use certain languages for certain phrases.  When I want to say thank you, I typically will say "gracias".  Also, I have been known to say “Uno momento, por favor” to people when they are rushing me.  When I was at dinner the other night, I said “gracias” to the waitor when he brought my food and the friend I was with said “thank you”.  The interesting part is that the waiter is Vietnamese and barely speaks any English at all, let alone Spanish.  It made me wonder, when I say something in one language, and someone who speaks another language hears me, is it possible that I am saying something rude or offensive?  Or maybe I am saying something that is just silly, or doesn’t make sense in the context.  How weird would it be if gracias meant something like “bubble” in Vietnamese?  I know it doesn’t.  I looked it up.  However, gracias, when pronounced with a horrible accent does sound a lot like “grassy ass” in English.  I learned that one in elementary school! 

Thanks for "listening."

Bedroom Biology Experiment

This is how it all began.

About five years ago when I lived with my parents, I got into the saltwater fish keeping hobby.  I pretty much jumped in feet first, which was not exactly a good thing.  Anyone out there who is an experienced aquarist already knows this: building a contained ecosystem is something that takes time if it is to be done right.

I ended up making a lot of trips to the pet store, and buying a lot of live rock, and a lot of fish.  First off, I have to say that the bio load in my tank was too high.  I had 13 fish in my tank ranging from damsels and blennies to angels and tangs.  Now that I have acquired more knowledge, I think I would be able to handle this bio load by doing more frequent water changes and having better filtration. 

To make a long story short, I ended up losing a lot of fish throughout the whole process, and I pretty much wasted hundreds of dollars, if not more.  A lot, if not all of this, could have been avoided if I had done my research before just jumping right in.  Not only did I lose money, but I ended up killing innocent creatures.  That is what bothers me the most  :(

As I was going through the trials of owning a saltwater tank, I found a forum of much more experienced aquarists who saved my tail on many occasions.  In the end, I made what turned out to be a fatal mistake during a large water change, and consequently ended up losing all of my fish.  I had to move out of my parent’s place, so I ended up selling my tank, live rock and all my equipment to a friend. 

This was a few years ago now, and I have since gotten back into the hobby.  I learned my lessons, and this time, I chose to do things the right way.  So, with my limited budget that I had at the time, I decided to start up what I called my bedroom biology experiment.  I went out and bought a 13 gallon plastic tote, some crushed coral, some aquarium salt, a saltwater hydrometer, a filter, a heater, a thermometer, some marine fish food and about 1 pound of live rock.  I fed the tank some of the food every other day, did a 10% water change every 3-4 days and every month I did a 30% water change.  This was all to ensure that my tank was properly cycled before adding any livestock to it.  I continued this for 3 months and then added two small damsels to my “tank”.  

When I went to purchase my fish at the pet store, one of the workers said “Aren’t you the one with the tote on your bedroom floor?”  I was slightly embarrassed, but I said that yes, that was indeed me.  She giggled a bit, but I was not swayed.   A week or so later, I came back and bought a little bit more live rock, bringing the total to three pounds!  Woohoo!

This was in about mid February of this year.  I do not want to chronicle the entire process in one post, so I will break things down into bits and give “updates” until I reach what is now my tank’s current status, and then I will continue from there.  I hope you enjoy!

**Today is now November 9th, 2012 and I have gone through this blog, deleting posts that I did not deem to be very interesting.  The promised updates fell into this category as most people who read this really didn't care too much about the fish.  To sum it all up, I ended up moving everything into a tank, then got a friend who was really interested in it.  He stated his own tank, and when I moved, I gave him all of my fish and equipment and I now no longer have a tank, yet again.  I figure I will wait until I have a more permanent home set up.**

Thanks for "listening."

It's a Love Hate Relationship

 My cat Sydney is my baby.  I have a sort of love hate relationship with her though.  She is incredibly sweet, but she is also very smart, and very much a brat.

Let me tell you a bit more about her.   Sydney knows the sound of my car, and when I come home from work she is always sitting at the window watching for me.  It is very cute.  I always look at her and say “Hi Syd!” and although I can’t always hear her, I can see her mouth open in reply to me saying hello.  When I get through the door, she is always there waiting for me.  Sometimes I stand outside the door and just talk to her.  I say something and she says something back.  I get a kick out of how vocal she is.  When I get inside, she greets me warmly, rubbing her body against my legs.  If I don’t pick her up right away, she cries at me until I do.  When I do pick her up, I hold her close, and she wraps her paws around my neck and purrs like a little motor.   She follows me around the house as I get ready for bed, and when it is time to sleep, she comes up and cuddles with me as close as she can possibly get.

That’s the good side.  Now, for the bad side.  I assume that most cats are like this in some respect, but I will tell you about it anyway.  I can’t leave certain things lying around, because Sydney will eat them.  Food products that fall into this category are any kind of bread, any kind of meat, and oddly enough… broccoli.  Not only does she love to eat/steal actual food products, but she seems to enjoy eating other things, such as fresh cut flowers, and basically anything that is made out of plastic.  Her favourite plastic “foods” are straws, wrappers and ribbon.  One year at Christmas when I was cleaning the kitty litter, I found a piece of poop that had a piece of green ribbon in it that was at least 2 inches long.  She doesn’t just chew things.  She actually eats them!

Sydney is also what I like to call a laundry magnet.  The second I open the door to the laundry room, she comes running.  Fortunately, she is a good listener, and when I tell her “no” as she is looking curiously up at the open dryer, she obeys me.  However, if I walk away and leave the laundry door open, I can come back within a matter of seconds and find her in one of two places: either on top of the neatly folded laundry, or right inside the dryer  She has a thing for soft fabrics, and I have even gotten Sydney her own fuzzy blankets specifically for her use, but apparently she prefers her soft fabrics freshly laundered.

Thanks for "listening."

OCD

I have what is known as obsessive compulsive disorder, otherwise known as OCD.  There are varying degrees of OCD, ranging from people who have to have everything in perfect order, to people who are paranoid and cannot leave their homes.   Fortunately, I am on the lower end of the scale. 

The main characteristic that defines someone who has OCD is the fact that they feel like they “have to” do certain things.  If they do not do these things, they don’t feel “right”.  In some cases, things must be done until that feeling of it being “right” is attained.  For example, I used to have this alarm clock when I was a teenager.  Every night when I went to set my alarm for school the next morning, I had to move the switch from the right, past the center and to the left.  The center position is what controlled the radio.  The only way that I could feel “right” is if I moved the switch fast enough that the sounds from the radio could not be heard.  (I couldn’t turn the volume off, otherwise my alarm would be silent and I wouldn’t wake up.)  I often had to move the switch back and forth 3 or 4 times before I would feel okay about going to bed.

Earlier this week I babysat my friend’s kids so that she and her husband could go on a date.  Ever since I was a teenager, whenever I babysit I always tidy up after the kids are in bed.  I do it mostly so that when the parents come home, they don’t have to go from having a great time without the kids to jumping right back into their daily chores.  My intentions are usually just to tidy up, but this time, I went farther than usual.  I am not sure why, but sometimes my OCD is more prevalent than other times.  This was one of those times.  After the girls were in bed, I sat down at my laptop to write a post for my blog.  After a few minutes, I literally stopped mid sentence and got up and started tidying. 

I washed all the dishes and dried them and put them away.  I finished making cookies and arranged them nicely on a plate and put it on the table.  I cleaned the stove, including the burners.  I wiped the counters and the table.  I put all the toys away.  I lined up all the books and piles of papers at right angles.  I swept the floors.  I took out the garbage.  I lined up all the shoes by the front door according to size.  I cleaned the bathroom, including the tub, and put everything back exactly where it was.  I made sure all the towels were hung just right on the racks.  I straightened the pillows and blankets on the couches, making sure that everything was perfectly symmetrical.  I wiped all the drops of water out of the sink and lined up the faucet so it was centered.  When my friend came home at around 1:30 am, she said to me, “You know, it is funny that you look so much more awake now than when you first got here.”  I attributed it the fact that I do night shift, but it was more likely because of the high I got off of making everything just right.

Alright, so that all made me sound like a bit of a crazy person... However, one of the reasons that I am choosing to write about this is because I want other people who have similar conditions as I have to know that it is okay.  They are perfectly good and valuable just the way they are :)  So cheer up!  Laugh a little.  Call me crazy if it helps.. I won't deny it... after all, all the good ones are crazy anyway!  This should help:

Another thing that I am obsessive about is my food.  First off, I hate it when someone steals food off my plate.  I always take the amount I plan on eating, and I have it planned out, so when someone messes with that, it totally throws me off.  Secondly, I like to eat my foods in even numbers.  Knowing this little quirk, my mother always likes to offer me odd numbers of things, like grapes and other small foods.  She is such a brat sometimes!  But she is my mother, so I love her anyway :p

Feel free to take advantage of this information any time you see me...

Thanks for "listening."

It's the Little Things

Typically I am not very hard to please.  Although I do have OCD, and that means that lots of little things bug me, I am also very easily amused or excited by seemingly small things.  As some would say, "It's the little things that make life worth living." A call from an old friend, someone holding the door for you, a gift of flowers for no reason. Animals tend to make me smile no matter what, especially ducks.  Every year when spring comes around, I get giddy when I see the first batch of baby ducks or geese swimming around the lake with their mother.  I actually keep bird seed in a bin in my car so that I can feed the ducks and geese when I go to the park :)

There are also some little things that really annoy me that have nothing to do with being obsessive compulsive.  For instance, every day when I brush my hair, some of my hair comes out onto my brush.  This is all well and good.  The thing is, I have what I like to call “mutant hairs” that tend to spring up right after I just pulled my hair into a nice tight bun.  These hairs come in two forms.  The first, are little curly hairs that are like spirals.  I have straight hair, so this is very noticeable, and rather odd.  The second is …dun dun dun…. GRAY HAIRS!  I got my first one when I was in the car on a way to a Canucks Game.  I was only 22 years old!  Now that I am 24, the frequency at which I have to pull out those pesky little gray hairs is increasing.  This week alone, I have found three. *insert sad face here* The thing that really gets me is that never have I had one of these mutant hairs come out onto my brush when I brush my hair.  

They are mutant.  

                               They are resilient.  

                                                                      They bug me.  

It’s the little things, right?

Thanks for "listening."

What a Wonderful World

I absolutely LOVE this planet and all of the wonderful sights it has for me to see.  I have not done a lot of traveling, but I have seen my share of beautiful things, whether they were in person or on Google images is besides the point :p

Something I have noticed is that as I have grown older there have been some changes in the sky above our heads.  First of all, the sky is not nearly as blue as it once was.  This can likely be chalked up to pollution.  However, I fear for any small children whose parents are teaching them their colours by using the sky as a reference for the colour blue.  These children may be confused later on in life when they realize that “blue” is the colour of the Vancouver Canucks' home jersey, not the sky.

Beyond that, there is this beautiful, colourful ring around the sun that used to fascinate me as a child.  It was like a rainbow in a perfect circle, and it was so pretty.  Today I was looking up at the clouds and I saw something truly wonderful.  The ring around the sun was reflecting its colours through this thin stratus cloud that had passed in front of the sun.  The way that the cloud had ripples in it, combined with the full spectrum of colours dancing across each ripple made the cloud look like the inside of a clamshell.  So beautiful!

Thanks for "listening."

Honesty vs Lies . . . . . Love vs Fear

There are a few things that I value very highly in this life: honesty, love and loyalty. 

Here, I am going to focus on the first two.  Being a Christian, I have been raised to believe that even when we are wronged repeatedly, we are to forgive those wrongs as often as they are done to us.  I have no problem with forgiving a person.  However, I will not always trust someone who has a habit of doing wrong to me.  I would be foolish to do so. 

To go beyond this, I have to say that I have one person who comes to mind whom I would not trust with a single thing. There is nothing that he has done for which I have not forgiven him, but the only way I would trust this man is if he was dead.   Even then, I am still not sure I would trust him.  He is a compulsive liar, so how would I know that he was really even dead?  Call me paranoid, but I figure it is more along the lines of logical. The word of a liar cannot be trusted.

Honesty is a BIG deal to me, and it always has been.  Ever since I was very young, I knew the value of the truth.  For one thing, it makes for a lot less to remember.  When we hold to honesty as our foundation, it encourages us to stay away from things that we would feel the need to lie about.  In other words, if you don’t want people to know bad things about you, and you don’t want to have to lie, then don’t do bad things!  It really is simple in concept, however difficult it may be to actually live.

Love is at the core of who I am.  However, sometimes the evil of the world gets to me, and fear begins to take over.  There is a verse in the Bible that says “There is no fear in love, but perfect loves casts out all fear.” - 1 John 4:18 So, the question then is this: when the evil of the world gets to me, so much so that I fear for my own safety (whether legitimately or otherwise) what am I to do? 

That is where the battle begins.  I have a choice.  Love or fear.  I try to stick to the love that I have as my foundation inside, but sometimes my own resolve is just not strong enough.  The fear that surrounds me breaks through the barrier of love when I am not able to hold it all together.  The only thing that I can do to keep it out is to pray.  Pray that God would come and surround me with HIS love.  My love is imperfect, no matter how much of a foundation it is for me.  God’s love is the perfect love that is talked about in that verse.  It is His love that casts out all fear.

Thanks for "listening."

Cookie Girl

I really enjoy making food.  In fact, there have been times when I wanted to make food so badly, that, I would call people up and ask them to come over just so I would have somebody for whom to make food. Fortunately, a lot of my friends are guys who are in their early twenties, so they typically do not object to my offers to make them food.

Since I work long hours, and I work at night, I do not have a lot of time to make food.  When I do get a chance though, I have a hard time deciding what aspect I enjoy more, making the food, or eating something that is not store bought or from a restaurant :P

My current location for work is on a construction site, filled with men.  When I began working here and I grew more familiar with the workers, I started to bring them cookies.  I figured that they would be more than willing to eat my food, since they do such hard physical work all night.  I was right!  My cookies have been a hit since the first day I brought them.  Within a matter of days, every time I walked around the site, I would be stopped by workers asking “Do you have any cookies?”  Now, you must know, I am the on-site Level Three First Aid Attendant.  As such, my uniform makes it difficult for me to walk around site and NOT get noticed.  Some of the workers don’t know my actual name, but just know me as “Cookie Girl”. 

One day, I had barely gotten out of my car, when a worker approached me and said, “I hear you make cookies for the workers.  Is it true?”  I told him yes, and I asked if he would like to put in a request, as all the ones I had with me that day had already been spoken for.  The next day, he saw me drive up and he made a beeline for me, and had a huge smile on his face as I told him that I had his cookies.  It sounds silly, but there is just something enjoyable about seeing big, tough, fully grown men getting giddy over cookies!

Thanks for "listening."

My fine, furry feline friends

I have two cats, Sydney who was born in January 2008 and is currently three and a half years old, and Roxy who was born in October 2007 and is almost four years old.

Sydney - March 2011

Sydney is a grey Bengal/Persian cross that I spontaneously “adopted” while working at a pet store.  A customer came in to drop off four kittens for us to adopt out.  She didn’t want them because they were not pure bred Bengals, so they were not worth much money.  Our store was not able to take animals directly from a customer due to the fact that we had a contract with an existing adoption agency.

I was holding one of the kittens in my hands as I consulted my manager regarding any other options we might suggest to the customer as to where she might be able to bring the kittens.  Upon returning to the front of the store to discuss options with the customer, we found that she had left, taking the remaining kittens with her.  I was left with an adorable, chatty, malnourished little kitten in my hands, knowing that I could not just take her home without hearing it from my mother. 

So, I brought her to my dad’s first, knowing that he would welcome the sight of my newly acquired ball of fur.  I was right.  My dad loved her, and my mother was not at all happy with the fact that I had brought home another animal.  I already had a hedgehog and 3 fish tanks at this point, and had previously nursed 3 wild baby bunnies back to health.  So, until I moved out, my mother insisted that Sydney (who was yet unnamed) would have to come with me everywhere I went.

I took her with me everywhere, just as my mom had insisted, but it ended up being more of a blessing than a burden.  Sydney and I formed a very close bond, and now, three and a half years later, she is still a momma’s girl.  She cuddles and lets people pet her when they come to visit, but she always ends up coming back to me, and I love it <3

Roxy - March 2011

Now for Roxy.  She is much smaller than Sydney, but don’t let her size fool you!  She is now a cat who is full of spunk and is not afraid to tell you when you are getting in her space.  My one friend loves to force her to cuddle, and she does this hilarious combination of protesting and purring.  Eventually, her friendly side takes over, and she concedes to the cuddles.  She has not always been like this, though. 

When I first got her, Roxy was living in a home with approximately 50 other animals, including snakes, spiders, lizards, fish, birds, ferrets, dogs, and other cats.  She was not getting the attention she needed, and she was essentially terrified of everything that moved.  My friend who lived in this home asked me if I would be willing to adopt Roxy, but that if I was interested, I would first have to come and make sure I was willing to take her on, because she was "an angry little cat". 

I went over to meet Roxy, and my friend brought her out of the bedroom, as she hissed and screamed and dug her claws into his skin.  He pried her off his body, and handed her to me.  I spoke to her in a calm voice, and immediately, she started purring, allowing me to hold her close and pet her.  I was in love, and she could tell.  I took Roxy home that night, and gave her a flea bath.  Nothing says "Welcome Home" better, right?

Roxy & Sydney July 2009

Thanks for "listening."

Psalm 139

I am a Christian.

I was raised in a Christian home, and I became a born again believer when I was four years old.  According to a lot of sermons that I have heard, just saying that first line is very difficult for most Christians.  I am not sure why, really, because God is the best thing in my life.  Given the fact that my cells constantly regenerate, I will (physically) never be completely the same person.  Call me a geek, but I think that kind of thing is interesting.  Furthermore, it helps to drive home the point that God really is the only consistent thing in my life.

I have been through a lot of hard stuff, and through it all, God has been my refuge, and my great source of unspeakable strength.  There are many days of my life on which I look back and see God's presence so strongly beside me, because if it had not been for Him, I would literally not be here right now.  Let's leave it at that.

While in high school, I memorized Psalm 139 from the Bible in the New International Version (NIV).  It was one of my favourite passages of scripture, and it still is to this day.  When I decided to memorize this passage, I did so because I relished the thought that God knew me so intimately.  It talks a lot about how God formed us each specifically and with much detail.  When I felt insecure and low in self worth, this gave me purpose, knowing that I was put together by the very hands of God.  That had to mean I was worth something good.   He not only designed me, but He put together every detail of all the parts of me that go beyond the physical - my soul, my spirit and my emotions.

Memorizing scripture has one major benefit, and that is that when we memorize something, it is forever with us.  Nobody can ever take that thought away from us, even if the written words are physically stolen from us.  Another one of the Psalms says this: "I have hidden Your word in my heart, that I might not sin against You."  - (Psalm 119:11) By memorizing God's word, we are hiding it in our hearts where nobody can steal it.  We have it there to protect us and to guide us.  We can quote scripture to encourage others.  We can quote scripture to build up our own faith when we are being taken over by fear or confusion.

However, simply memorizing scripture is not always very effective.  Sometimes, when we memorize words, we are just memorizing the words and not the meaning.  For instance, there is a Catholic prayer of blessing that is spoken before each meal by all who are about to eat.  From what I have witnessed, this prayer is often spoken very quickly.  The words are thanking God for the bounty with which He blesses us.  Sometimes I wonder if that prayer is even considered for its meaning, and not just rushed through as a formality that must be done in order to get to the food.

I have been guilty of doing this - memorizing words and not fully embracing their meaning.  I had all of Psalm 139 committed to memory.  I knew the words.  The full meaning did not hit me until recently.  This is not to say that I didn't pay attention to the words.  It is more that I knew the words, and as I grew older and gained more life experience, I was able to grasp the importance of the words.  There is a part in which the Psalmist says of God, "Where can I go from your Spirit?  Where can I flee from your presence?  If I go up to the heavens, You are there.  If I make my bed in the depths, you are there.  If I rise on the wings of the dawn, if I settle on the far side of the sea, even there your hand will guide me.  Your right hand will hold me fast."  When I first memorized these words, it was encouraging to know that wherever I went, God would be with me.  Now, it means so much more to me than that!  I have lost friends and family.  I have been poor and hungry.  I have been without a job.  I have been lost and confused.  I have run away from God and done what was right in my own eyes.  I have come back to God and put my will back in His hands.  Through ALL of this, God has been right there.  In some of my lowest and darkest moments, when I could barely hold myself together, God held me tight in His arms so that even as I was falling apart, I was held together.  His Spirit indwells me, and that is why no matter where I go, no matter what I go through, I can never fall too far that He can't reach me to pick me back up again.

Thanks for "listening."

Running the Race Set Before You

When I was in elementary school, (yes I know that a long time ago) I had bad asthma, but I absolutely loved running. As I grew older, my asthma got worse and I found cardiovascular activities to be increasingly difficult. In addition to that, I think that I have often used my asthma as an excuse to avoid doing most forms of cardio workout, simply because it was just easier not to have to go through all the effort - the effort required to remain standing and continue breathing. 

Since grade eight, I have loved going to the gym, but it has not been until recently that I have gotten back into running. This was all set in motion by my amazing childhood friend who has never deviated from his love of running. He has taken this love to a new level and started a foundation called Running for Youth, with which he uses his running ability to raise money for various organizations, including BC Children's Hospital and Covenant House Vancouver.

In the spring of this year, he signed me up to do the Vancouver Sun Run. I had no choice but to participate, so I got up early in the morning right after doing a night shift and got ready to go. I decided in advance that I would stick to walking the whole 10 kilometers. As such, I did not wear proper running attire, but instead, wore jeans and a hoodie with my Vancouver Canucks jersey over top (it was game day, after all.) When I got about three kilometers into the race, I decided to try running. I was already very hot with all the layers I had on, but I pushed forward and broke out of my lazy shell of a body, and it felt incredible. I had flash backs of the gravel field at my old elementary school. I was elated. It was all so empowering. My lungs were weak, but every time I had to stop, they would recover within two minutes. I only did end up running for a total of 1.5 kilometers, but I finished the course in one hour and 30 minutes.

This friend of mine is a major inspiration to me in areas that go beyond physical strength, and he has been my whole life. I have always looked up to him and wanted to be like him. When I finished the race, I found him and said, "Guess what!? I ran!" *Insert huge smile here* He kind of looked at me as if to say "Good for you. It's a run. That is what you are supposed to do." I knew that my accomplishment was entirely minuscule in comparison to his time of just over 40 minutes, but I was unwavering in my enthusiasm. I was so proud of myself! My goal is to one day have him be proud of me, too.

Later that day, he gave me a "LIVESTRONG" bracelet, which I have worn every day since. Life can be full of challenges and trials, but every time I look down and see that bracelet on my wrist, I think of this friend of mine who is like a brother to me.  As I am reminded of his strength, it compels me to be even more like him.

Thanks for "listening."

A look into the simply complex mixing of cells more commonly known as "ME"

Hello there, internet world!

I will refer to myself simply as "Restless" on here.  Feel free to do the same.  Here is a little bit of information about me. 

I am a 24 year old female.  I love animals of all shapes and sizes (but not bees!) and I love people of all ages, sizes, colours, and creeds. I am a lover by nature, and sometimes it gets the best of me. I have been a writer since I was young, really, and sometimes I feel like if I don’t write, I will go off my rocker!

This blog is not about anything specific, really. It is more just a way for me to get my thoughts out into the world. I have already written a book which I really need to “kick out of the nest” so to speak, however, my horrible combination of insecurities and procrastination keep me from doing such. I have a few other books in the works, but these works still do not encompass all of my thoughts.

I will do my best to keep things interesting for you, my reader, but be aware that the topics of my thoughts vary from moment to moment, (Yay for ADD!) and as such, will vary from post to post on here.

I have what I consider a restless mind. The posts in this blog will give you an idea of what goes on in my mind, and what my eyes see as I travel this world.  I sincerely hope that you enjoy what I have to say. If not, I do apologize in advance. Please feel free to speak your mind by leaving a comment or by sending me an email to Restless_Mind@ymail.com Also, if you have any requests as to topics that I may write about, feel free to let me know!

Thanks for "listening."