* not with ink

Last night, Karen and I hosted a clothing swap. The apartment is full of boxes from her move & Nadine's wedding, but it turns out hospitality is still possible, and friends are gracious, and what this means is that our house is a place where people are welcome and I won't always try to pretend like my space looks perfectly put together. Clothing swaps are a brilliant thing and I think we may start hosting a semi-annual one. They make so much sense to me. Here is my list of new-to-me clothing & accesories: leather belt gold necklace with a wing pendant (sounds strange, looks awesome) silver cocktail ring with a marbled stone blue pullover sweater (wearing it today!) orange & cream striped sweater green-striped henley (softest thing in the world) black sleeveless top denim button-up shirt (can't wait to pair this with black shorts & patterned tights. HELLO!) summery floral shirt pinstripe skirt (if ever I have an interview or actual office job) c

Yesterday, this poem posted on The Other Journal struck me in all the right places: Hate Invasion by Luci Shaw Like swoops of dark birds settling, anxieties and doubts weigh the branches, folding huge wings as they land. Heavy, broody, and fidgeting, they’ve moved in, building their awkward nests like clots in the trees, black twigs jutting. Clouds will pass, but the mass of sooty bodies walls off the sky, the stars, any heavenly light. A clatter rises, intensifies, dense as rifle fire in a war zone, clogging the air with stabbing, phony accusations and arguments that sound irrefutable. It’s clear these intruders plan to take over, reproducing their own dark-feathered kind. They’ve driven out the nesting doves, colonizing all the trees. I try a clap, and a loud shout, to dislodge them. Either they can’t hear it or they take it for applause. Their harsh voices promote anarchy, disruption. They join the local militia. To clear the air, to see the sun again

I sometimes suspect that my boss knows my tendency to tweet her ridiculous comments and secretly loves the fame she may have. Other times, I think there is NO way she has a clue... Beyond the insanely funny and often inappropriate things she says, she has a fiercely loyal heart and I'm grateful to have her on my team. We have legit life-conversations, and I feel honored that she sometimes asks my thoughts on non-work situations. We view the world in very different ways, she and I. But even in moments when we have the most opposing viewpoints, I feel certain that she is for me and for my best. And that is a rare and lovely thing in a workplace. I've come to realize she respects me, and to a certain degree, my faith. I feel quite grateful for her this week, and encouraged that even though my job is nothing glamorous or thrilling, it is good for me to be here right now. I am sure of this.

...think of it as gaining a married friend!" These were Nadine's words to me on Friday night, as I lamented (with smiles & laughter), how sad I felt to know she was leaving our apartment permanently in the morning. --- It was a lovely, lovely wedding. A great reflection of both Matt & Nadine's personalities, families, and hearts. It was kind of a blur (as weddings often are), but it was good . I am thrilled for them, for their honeymoon adventures and new life together. I am also a little bit sad. As much as this is a win-win situation, I can't deny that transitions are a real thing that come with emotions whether you want them or not. I am excited for my new roommate (VERY excited), but I also miss Nadine already. I don't really feel like my wedding-speech captured how much love I feel for Nadine, how strongly I am on Team MandN, or what a blessing her presence in my life & apartment has been for the last two years. Just needed to put that o

Last night I moved a bookshelf from one corner of the apartment to the exact opposite corner, the furthest distance possible to move something within this little space (I am woman. Hear me roar). In doing so, I discovered mouse droppings. MOUSE DROPPINGS. Then my soup exploded out of the blender and I had to clean off the wall & the floor and moved our kitchen pantry shelves and discovered...mouse droppings. MOUSE DROPPINGS. There is a chance that these droppings are from the old ghost mice because neither of these pieces of furniture have been moved in the last year. HOWEVER. Last week, I thought I heard a mouse in the wall. I told Nadine this after finding the poop, and she said that she heard a plastic bag rustling in her room the other night but convinced herself of an alternative explanation. If the mice are back, there will be much swearing. Possibly screeching. And some shivering, when I have to dispose of their nasty little bodies. Ugh.

I've been slacking on the blogging, etc etc... I have a myriad of excuses, as always, which I will refrain from explaining. --- Nadine gets married on Saturday and this week is incredibly fun and full. I am sure there will be pictures and stories to follow. My new roommate, the amazing Karen, moves in the weekend after. There will be stories a-plenty, and likely pictures. I am very excited to rearrange the living room. It's like a whole new apartment! I'm also considering moving my bedroom around, but there aren't many options to try... --- Post-Lent, my sugar consumption has increased, but not nearly to pre-Lent levels. Spiritual significance aside, I think this is a good thing. The reality is, my body no longer processes/wants sugar in the same ways I used to. Spiritually/metaphorically speaking, I am craving more substantial foods and less quick-burning calories. This is also a good thing. --- I have a friend in Portland with whom I pass my days. We g-

Yesterday I said to the internets, "Entertain me!" These are the two best responses to my demand: This dog is jumping DOUBLE DUTCH. I don't even know if I can still do that! Don't you feel just a little bit sad for this poor melancholic mouser?

...get a feeling that something inside of you is shifting, and you don't know what exactly is going on, and you don't know what it means, but it is happening and maybe it is difficult and terrifying (or maybe it is easy and exciting) and after it is over (or maybe it will never be over but you will settle into it), things will be different, somehow, and you will know it? Yeah, me too.

Yesterday, as I stood in a pew with my sister’s arm around my waist, my younger brother walked over and said, “You look sad or down.” “Yes,” I replied, “A bit.” “Why?” he asked. “Because sometimes I am insecure and anxious.” “Well, you’re beautiful. And you’re a strong, independent woman.” Tears were too close for comfort, so I started to softly sing, “All you women, who independent, throw your hands up at me!*” “Am I allowed to sing that in here?” I continued, “What if I do this?” I raised my arms and swiveled my hips a little, repeating the chorus again. “Scandal!” he replied, “Not in a church!” and my sister grabbed my arm. “Shhhh!” We all laughed. Then I sang it again. Later, my other brother and his wife came over. My nephew crawled under the pews and tickled my toes like he was a churchmouse. My niece giggled and squeezed me and kissed me with her still-snotty face, and I didn't mind at all. Then they included me in a "family hug" and I was squis

1. My friends. Last night, I was reminded that I am supremely blessed when it comes to people who love me and whom I love in return. There are close to 20 women, living all around the country/continent/globe, with whom I can be completely honest, who speak truth to me, and allow me to return the favour. I can't begin to say how rich this makes me feel. 2. Sunshine. Oh, the sun. You make everything better. Today there is a moderate UV index, and a slim possibility that I will go for a run at lunch time. I wouldn't even consider this if it were rainy. Sunbeams are returning to my work window as winter fades away, and it helps the afternoon go by faster. (it's a weird sort of science, but it's true) 3. Easter Weekend. Long weekend, what! I am anticipating fun, family, and time spent thinking about Jesus. I can't wait for 4:30 to roll around this afternoon. 4. Music. It is a gamechanger in my world. There is TOO MUCH good stuff out there to ever catch up wit

April 1, 2012 Hon. Carolyn Bennett House of Commons Parliament Buildings Ottawa, Ontario, K1A 0A6 Dear Ms. Bennett, In light of the recent court decision handed down in Ontario regarding the legalization of prostitution behind closed doors as well as the NDP's delay of Bill C-310, I am urging you as my representative in Ottawa to amend the Criminal Code by rewriting our prostitution laws in a way that criminalize johns (sex buyers) and pimps, and decriminalize the person being sold. I strongly believe it is a misguided notion that legalizing prostitution protects women. The law does not harm women, but rather the men who are buying and raping them; we must take a firm stand against the demand for paid sexual access to the bodies of women and children. Legalized prostitution protects these very men and legitimates the buying of sex which fuels the expansion of the "industry." Prostitution is systemic violence against women and a major deterrent to women's

Last week, my friend Michelle posted about Ontario's ruling to legalize prostitution behind closed doors on her website, Hope for the Sold . I read the entry. Tweeted it. Two friends re-tweeted it, and I felt happy. Later in the week, friends in Vancouver posted about the NDP's delay of Bill C-310 on Facebook. But you know what? They did more than post about it. They actually wrote their MPs . Writing your MP is something I've never done. It was something suggested in the post that I tweeted about. But it's so political . And takes so much work . Like actual research. And writing. And... ...oh wait. People are being trafficked within my province. Within my city. Do I care about their safety? Their stories? Do you? I'm not big on guilt, but I am big on conviction. And I feel strongly convicted that the time has come for me to move from slacktivist to abolitionist. Here are the three things I did last night: 1. I read the story of sex-trafficking vic

Ah, Feist. Me too. The Junos are on in the background tonight. It's mostly Meh , but Feist's performance of this song was worth the listen/watch. I forgot how heart-breaking these lyrics are. Speak plain he said But didn't see He acted that way And held me like a cup Fill me up then pour me out Therein lies the doubt. We had the same feelings At opposite times. When a good man and a good woman Can't find the good in each other Then a good man and a good woman Will bring out the worst in the other The bad in each other