Am currently experiencing writer's block.

There is not much going on in my mind except the anticipation of a great move in less than a year.  Hopefully.
I will be sorely disappointed if said move does not happen.

I've been mentally packing and unpacking.
Like this morning:

"Coconut cream chai is soooo good.  Note to self:  Pack a lot.  
Self: You know you're wanting to move to South Asia right?  And you're packing TEA?
You see the irony, yes?"


I saw the irony, and yes I do talk to myself.

Other than that my mind is mostly spent cherishing the remaining days here in my beloved Toronto.
Or gnawing on it, rather.
I ruminate over everything, the good, the bad, and the ugly.
Just so I can soak it all in.
One year can turn into one lifetime.
Or not.

But as Jim Elliott once said, "Wherever you are, be all there."

TMI

Apparently verbal diarrhea LITERALLY happens.  No jokes.

If you're older[er] and you're super, super, SUPER constipated, the poo goes from your large intestine up to your small intestine, to your stomach, up your esophagus, and...OUT.

You learn something new EVERY.DAY.

What Not To Do...

Ladies, you know the drill.

There's this guy friend that you're interested in, but there's no overt signs that he's into you. i.e. Like him actually having the chutzpah to tell you so and him pursuing you. There's the way that he looks at you and the way he says your name (or so you think), but officially there's nothing going on. You're "just friends". So you stick around, talking to him late into the night on {insert your favourite mode of instant messaging here}, hanging out one on one all the time, and so on and so forth, pretty much being the dude's pseudo girlfriend, all the while hoping that one day he'll wake up to the revelation that you're a goddess. Ok fine, at least to the fact that you're great for him, and THEN FINALLY he'd ask you out.

I know, because I was there too.

Flashback: 2003, Dancing queen, young and sweet, only seventeen.

'Twas the summer before university. Met the boy on my dragon boat team. Long story short, I talked to him EVERY night until 3am. When school started I would drive 40 minutes one way every weekend to see him or I would drive 40 out of my way to pick him up so we could go back to Toronto together. We hung out one on one, a LOT. In essence I was his pseudo girlfriend.

As our "friendship" progressively moved beyond "just friends" without any definition of the relationship I got impatient, confronted him, and received a "Let's just be friends" in return. (Don't do this either. If he doesn't have enough chutzpah to define the relationship, he's not worth your time.)

I spent a day and a half bawling at a friend's place before I could drive back to Guelph safely. Then I spent the next three months crying myself to sleep every night. Was that TMI?

Moral of the story?
Don't be a pseudo girlfriend.
i.e. Don't spend so much one on one time hanging out with a guy hoping he'd eventually ask you out.

Why?
Because it's dumb. Yeah, you heard me dumb. Harsh, but true, but it's tough love.
Why would anyone pay for something he already has?
In other words why would he take the risk to ask you out and commit to you when he already has unlimited access to your time, thoughts, company, and person? Because by being his pseudo girlfriend, you're giving him ALL of that without any need for commitment in return. SCORE! For him at least. Not so much for you.

Because in doing so you have just shot yourself in the foot, not once, not twice, but thrice. Assuming the goal is to enter into a meaningful relationship that has the potential to lead to marriage...

First Shot: You have now taken away any incentive for him to ask you out.
Second Shot: It now seems to other guys that you're totally into this dude so you've taken away any incentive for them to ask you out.
Third and Final Shot: You're wasting your time on a guy and a relationship that's not going anywhere.

So I know it's tempting when you like a guy friend, to spend every possible waking moment in his presence, hanging on to his every word, and etc...but DON'T DO IT. Whatever the reason you think it is for him not asking you out, you're probably over-analyzing. Don't hang on to it, and don't be a pseudo girlfriend. 'Tis not worth it.

Go read: Girl's Guide to Marrying Well
This is my second plug. It's THAT good.

Gentlemen, here's a link to your guide.

Not "Either, Or", but "AND"

Single and content, yet desirous for marriage.

Seems like an oxymoron doesn't it? It used to seem to me like you have to hate one status in order to like the other. I use to villainize 'marriage' in my mind to hang on to what shred of contentment I had with being single, which is, in all honesty; no contentment at all. Or I'd swing the pendulum the other way and scorn singleness. Oh the folly of youth.

But it wasn't just me. It seems like a lot of people think like that too. It's not blatant. No one goes around with a bullhorn announcing: "You gotta hate being single if you want to get married or you have to hate marriage in order to enjoy being single." It's very subtle.

Like the question, "You have the gift of celibacy?" after I stated with conviction that I very much enjoy my single status. Seriously?

For the record, I don't think I have the gift of celibacy. I very much agree with my friend, M who says "You know you have 'the gift' when you're on your death bed and you've never been married."

But I digress. It's gotten to the point that I'm a bit hesitant to voice my desires for marriage or my desire for companionship for fear that I'm going to be misconstrued as being desperate and hating singleness, which in case you haven't figured out yet, I'm NOT. Recently at the hint of some of my desire for companionship, the outpouring of pity begins for the supposed plight that is 'singleness'. I might be oversensitive, but...

It is so very much possible to thoroughly enjoy and savour the season of singleness while desiring marriage at the same time. So this is my public service announcement stating thus:

I. ENJOY. BEING. SINGLE.
I like being able to do things at the drop of a time like going off to a swing dancing weekend with two days' notice.
I like staying out late without having to worry about someone needing me to come back home.
I like all the time that I have to devote to my hobbies.
I like being able to spend all that time with friends and family.
I like setting my own budget, my own timeline, my own goals.
I like eating whatever, whenever.
I like that I can work stupid, crazy, hours in ministry without anyone minding because campus ministry is definitely not a 9 to 5 job.
I like sprawling all over queen size beds when I get to hotels.
I like being in the driver seat every time I get into my car.
I like that I can buy stuff without consulting someone.
I like that I don't really need to think about anybody else except for me. I'm selfish.
I like ALL that FREEDOM.

At the same time...

I. WANT. TO. GET. MARRIED. SOMEDAY.
I want to be able to serve my husband, and cook yummy, delicious meals for him, do his laundry, help him find the right clothes, among other things.
I want to be able to come home at night to someone, to belong to someone.
I want to be able to bounce ideas off someone and have someone to go through life with.
I want someone to share my dreams and goals with.
I want someone to pick me up at the airport.
I want someone to freak out with like when I had chest pains and had to go to the ER.
I want someone to hold my hand at the ER.
I want to be that support for that someone, encouraging him to be all that God has created him to be and praying for him.
I want to keep a nice house so that he can return to a nice, homey, relaxed environment.
I want to start a family with someone and start a legacy with him, like Johnny Edwards.

And so much more...

So it's not either be happy with being single or desire to get married, but be happy being single and desire to get married.

The Cherry On Top

I am officially doing a "Trash the Dress" shoot for a couple that I know this May. This is pretty much the proverbial cherry on top of the proverbial sundae, that is my summer.

Love Me Anyways

Sometimes it's like, "I'm so messed up. I need to go see a therapist. Wait, I am seeing a therapist."

Today and yesterday were those kind of days. I shouldn't be surprised by the crap that gets squeezed out of me anymore.

I've been extremely hesitant to put anything on this blog regarding my journey through burnout the past year because of a fear of misunderstanding. I was afraid that people would misunderstand God, and lose faith in Him because of what I was, and am going through.

I was afraid that people would misunderstand me, because let's face it blogs are one dimensional no matter how good of a wordsmith you are, and no matter what, people always judge.

Plus burnout is something that cannot be encapsulated through a one dimensional medium. I don't know even if multiple mediums would convey what it's like. It's something that you wouldn't fully understand unless you've walked through the darkness of the valley. And since I was never that good with words to begin with, I was hesitant.

As for people judging, if I was a blog stalker who came to this site from my Facebook profile because I am a "friend", or from another blog, the first sentence would make me think that the blogger is psychotic. Let's not lie to ourselves. We judge period.

So that's why I was silent, but I will be no more. I'm breaking the silence because leaving this kind of stuff in the dark is worse. It makes it scarier than it seems. I'll risk the misunderstanding.

Life is hard and crap like burnout and depression happen. We live in a craptacular world. But the good thing is that there is a light at the end of the tunnel though you might not see it for a loooooooooong time. And that's the honest truth.

So love me anyways.

A Picture Speaks A Thousand Words

Since that is it the case, I should have thousands upon thousands of words to fill up this little blog by now, but alas I only have two measly blog posts, this making it three for this year. It seems that all my creativity has been taken up with photography, sketching, painting, jewelry design, and design of all sorts in general.

I am at a loss for words, but I have never felt more alive than now when I'm letting all my God-given creativity flow out in the form of visual art. For once I feel like I'm living the abundant life.

This is all to say that I update my Flickr more than this so go there. :)

Happy Heart Day

There was going to be an ingenious albeit cheesy card floating around this year with the above tagline, but due to technical difficulties there will be no cards bearing Lydia's and my own brilliance.

That said, Happy Heart Day!*

Funny enough I kept thinking that today was Chinese New Year's. I think it's the hot pot that I will eating in an hour.

.

Public Service Announcement

My photo blog on aminus3 has been revived. I needed a simple creative outlet and an incentive to keep at photography. The link is to the right.

AMEN SISTAH!

"Allow a man to win your heart, she would say. And if he doesn’t want to, then why would you want him?"

Wow. How refreshing. That quotation was from a recent post from girltalk.blogs.com. (In case you're wondering it's the Week 6 Book Club Discussion) It wasn't anything new, but it was so good to read it and be reaffirmed in my convictions. It's tempting to want to flirt, to want attention, to feel validated, and to feel in control of one's marital status instead of waiting on the Lord. But I firmly believe in that men are called to initiate.

Call me prudish. Call me uber conservative. Old-fashioned. I'd actually delight in that.

A woman's heart is precious, valuable, and worth being sought after. I'm not going to throw mine at someone who barely cares, or even someone who cares, but not enough. Been there done that. Not doing it again. It's such a lie when guys say they need a sign that the girl is interested before they ask. In Aban's words, "MAN UP." Who wants a coward for a husband?

End Rant.

Footnote: I know John Ensor suggested "crackling leaves" so to speak. Fine, but I'm not talking about that. There are times when girls take crackling leaves to mean chopping down the tree and watching it whack the guy on top of the head.