"Me, I want a hoooola-hooop!"

O....kay.

I am running to the theme from 'Chariots of Fire' right now. Friday is but a couple sleeps, being in public with bedhead and at least one more meltdown away. So close I could hit it in a burping contest. My teachers have done dangerous things like extending deadlines and making classes optional. A week from today I'll be squinting over somebody asking me who in my family usually washes the dishes. In RUSSIAN. The next day, I will be talking about which Classical Athenian tyrant said compassion is a weakness. And then finally, the very next day, when I forget that my socks don't go on the outside of my shoes and that I have to peel the orange first, I will write a research proposal and orchestrate secondary sources in an hour. Or at least I'm told I will. But by five o'clock this next Thursday, I will usher in a long awaited stint in which I never get out of my pajamas. I will sing "Christmas Don't be Late" in a style authentic to Alvin and the Chipmunks and surf The Phillip DeFranco Show until I fall asleep in a chair.

But UNTIL then! I've noticed I get really exaggerative when I get tired of something. But that's okay because that will make me a writer capable of capitalizing on my unemployment. Zing!

If you could work for anyone in your field, who would it be?

I would pretty much die if I ever met Margaret Atwood so she's probably a bad choice. I thought maybe Audrey Niffenegger but I think I'm liking her stuff less and less as I read it. I would have to say Anita Diamant because she has transformed the way I write. The Red Tent, favourite book ever. Day after Night probably second favourite book ever. (Did I mention I exaggerate?) Her books made me read through Genesis again and become morbidly obsessed with reading books concerning the Holocaust. She is die-worthy as well so I would have to get myself under control first but I would sit in awe of her Jewishness probably perpetually. Then I would tell her I didn't really like Good Harbour.

Moya Moozh idyot cmotreet televizor illi droozya

Matt sent me this halfway though my day.

This is why I love reading week.

Spent some time with the chicks of the RSN. (Chicks? Our foremothers would be so proud.) Good times. Good beer. Good ladies.

I feel that when I post transliterated Russian on my blog, I should translate it for all the people that don't speak Russian. Namely, everyone I know. "Idyot" could easily sound like...something else when it in fact mean "to go". Sorry Moozh. I've taken the blue pill. My communication skills are officially on the DL.

December slag

We're honin' in on the home stretch now. I really need some kind of push to get me through it. Every semester, I hit early November and I give in. Satisfactory marks come easy to me and my participation mark doesn't go down too much if I skip class at that point. But I don't want satisfactory marks. I don't want my marks to be less than they could be because I got tired. I need to centre myself and I need to turn to God in peace. It's no mistake that when I stop seeking him all of the other things I'm working on start to seem like they don't matter.

May I find ways to see him this week. May I find ways that I can bring him into what I'm doing and glorify him through it.

"The hands that flung the stars into the skies two cruel nails surrendered."

It snowed again! And that gave me an excuse to skip school. Yay!

Matt and I participated in the abnormally awkward Christian practice of getting together and making awkward small talk because we all checked out the same church and wanted a free meal. And then Matt and I had a snowball fight on the way home from the bus.

Christmouse is a month away today!

T-minus 5 days until I can have my singular chai eggnog of the season. I've done so well holding out. It's all downhill from here.

Noyabr

It is nearly time for the truly unfortunate moustaches to go away. The myriads of silly culturally addicted post-secondary students can shave off the attempt while carrying with them that they showed everyone that not even a month was enough to get past the translucent fuzz phase. What I find slightly ridiculous about Movember is that while the whole point in growing a moustache is to "raise awareness" for prostate cancer. I don't know a single guy with a moustache that is any more in the know about what causes it, how to check, statistics, anything. It's a glorified hipster exercise in doing it because something that you would have been made fun of for is now "cool".

It is COLD. It is funny how Vancouverites react to snow. We got a big dump on Friday night and Saturday shit went down. People lost their minds. In Calgary, it's been -35 with windchill. That is bonkers. Winters have been so weird. Last winter was so mild. A couple days before we went home for Christmas I was still running in shorts and waiting for the bus in a hoodie and jeans. And then this winter has been a pox on all our houses. Moozh is practically menopausal. I NEVER touch the thermostat because I enjoy excessive layering and big socks so much I would rather do that. But he wanders around in his unmentionables during the evenings, cracking open every window we have while I plug in the electric blanket. And then I heat up to ridiculous temperatures when we go to bed and sweat explosively. It's a weird life.

Can I say that I find handkerchiefs totally disgusting? If you're a dandy or it's just a pocket square or something along those lines, fine. But having a scrap of threadbare cloth in your pocket that you repeatedly blow your nose in and stuff BACK in your pocket. That is just disgusting.

Links Times!

- How cool are these?! I think I will definitely try and make myself some of these. They would be so cool in the summer.

- I've added another tattoo to the list. I want to get "Father, Son, and Holy Spirit" on the inside of my arm in Russian. (сын отца и Святой дух) There is some of the coolest Cyrillic typeface out there that it would be really sweet to try and incorporate some of that. I want to make sure everything is conjugated properly so I'm not one of those douchebags with a tattoo in another language that doesn't make sense. Did you know doosh in Russian means shower?

- We are entering the season of delectable albeit heavy eating where you justify eating things you would never eat the rest of the year because our saviour was born to a teenager in a barn which is of questionable sanitation and lowly to say the least and what about hay fever?! So really it deserves some recognition and I can oblige by eating absurd amount of Stollen and feeling rum has a place in every drink I consume at any time of the day. And yet despite all this, I have the hugest craving for coleslaw. I will not attempt to explain my mind.

- I go on Flickr probably daily now. Pretty pictures make me happy. Like this one. Why doesn't my breakfast look like that? Oh yeah. Ya nykogda ne zavtrakayou (I don't eat breakfast).

- I also watch the Phillip De Franco show every day. They're only four minutes long so I feel I can justify that.

T-minus 23 days until we touch down in Cowtown. Hells yes for the rhyme. My mom asked me if she could come sleep on my couch the other day so I think that means it's pretty miserable there. But Christmas makes thing happy, makes everything better. At least rum does.

Christmouse!

Casa del Dempsey has that Christmas feeling now. The garlands and boughs of holly went up last night. The first gift I ever bought Matt was a set of two HUGE Christmas baubles when I worked at Ikea. They are easily three times the size of any other decorations on our tree but our place looks so sweet now.

We finished all of our Christmas shopping this which illustrates an impressive amount of forethought on our part. It turned COLD this weekend. Dumped a huge load Friday night which made everything look magical and made every driver on the road lose their mind. That also turned out to be the day that we were helping Scott and Jo move into their new place. Fun times.

I love this commercial. I remember seeing it on when I was maybe in Junior High. Stevie Wonder and India Arie make for beautiful Christmas music. But when you watch that clip wait until the third part of the commercial. The cutest little black girl does a hilarious dance in red velvet and a white dude has his Christmas mantle timed just perfect. It is so cute you'll want to die. Love it.

One of my favourite Christmas movies is easily White Christmas. They just needed an excuse for a whole bunch of musical numbers unrelated to a plot line. They had "White Christmas" and "Count Your Blessings" kickin' around and the rest is history. Vera Ellen's legs will make you faint but my favourite scene is the one below. Reminds of my Dad when he's relaxed. The goofiness, I mean, not the cross dressing. Though he does like that too.

What's your favourite Christmas movie? Are you going to shoot your eye out? Or are you kickin' it with Oogie Boogie?

Happy Christmahannakwanzadan!

At least there will be plenty implied

This month has been a wonderful blog month. I began NaBloPoMo which has initiated a love affair and a growing respect for my blog and for habit.

1. I discovered Today's Letters, which has taken me by storm.

Emily and Tim Loerke are a couple from Dallas, Texac. Her bio makes me die it is so adorable. It reads, "Mr. Loerke and I have been married for 5 years. We like to dance in our jammers, sleep late in the biscuit, build forts, write each other love letters, and spend lots of time in the kitchen experimenting with food. We also get to ask each other for forgiveness each day. Holla." Seriously, oh my goodness. They are incredible God loving couple who love small groups, ice cream and calling the things in their life by funny names. They call their car a fart box and their bed a biscuit. AWWWWWESOME! My favourite posts (at the moment -they seriously get cuter and more awesome every day) would be their Halloween post because they drew her beard on with those smelly marker and the post where they talk about how they met and fell in love because honestly who doesn't love those stories. And the posts are back to back! They. Are. Great.

2. I love Bluebird Baby. She is a photographer out of Maine and even just the photos of her house are mesmerizing. She's a big antiques person (so is Emily Loerke actually! There's a mathematical equation here waiting to happen) but she did a reno on her kitchen that I can't get over. The open face cabinets are beauuuuuutiful. Krasivaya! She does every monday, these links pages that are so great. Get's you listening to new music, looking at new pictures, and seeing new sites. Gweat! She has the cutest little daughter who dresses herself like a total champ and she has the cutest love ever too. She has a whole category called, "I love Sasa". Ummms yes.

3. I will put Smitten Kitchen on here because I truly spend an inappropriate amount of time on food blogs. Which is crazy because I don't even really like cooking that much. Or eating. But on every blog I've ever been on in their link tab they have Smitten Kitchen listed. Everyone loves her. And she's Jewish, which means I love her. She also has a surprise me button which is every browsing web surfer's nemesis because it keeps you there longer than you ever intended to stay. But if you really wanted to invest your time in meaningful things you wouldn't be surfing the net. :) This looks delish and many a Casa del Dempsey staple in it. I want to eat far more sweet potato because I'm a tuber hound. Cheers.

Prompt!

P.S~ I've been trying to resist until December 1 but the Christmasness is working itself into my mind. I have a Christmas playlist on my iPhone now. And we got a Yankee Candle. Merry Christmas!

You know what sounds really good right now? Sleep.

Oh Vancouver.

*On a side

note, I have taken to call it Bankybear because that's how it looks in Russian (see last entry). Pretty much learning a second language has messed up my handwriting, pronunciation and spelling. I'll probably go blind in one eye soon.

Today was unusually cold. Though I know last winter came and went with the incessant qualifier, "This has been a really mild winter", holy balls why is it so cold. I'd be walking from my house to the mailbox in a balaclava if I still lived in Calgary but I WAS NOT prepared for today. My hands have that fuzzy shakiness that they get when they warm up after they get so cold you kind of can't bend them. Bummers. My adorable friend Ginny was wearing her winter jacket with fur pom poms today and she looked perfect and wintery. Made me rethink my jersey cardigan and bare head for sure. I have many an under-utilized layer because it has simply been too warm here. There was a moment today where it was warm and my clothing seemed qualified to address the weather. And that lasted for as long as it took for me to walk to the bus stop. Bankybear is similar to Cowtown in that you can never really predict what the weather is going to be like. It never corresponds to the prediction on the weather channe

l but it also never stays insufferable for long. And I am not homeless, I have lots of warm, wonderful clothes and I spend most of my days indoors. So I do not, officially, have anything to complain about.

I had the maddest craving for plum pudding today. So weird because I can never finish my portion the once or twice a year that I actually eat it. That, some mulled cider and an Alistair Simms Ebenezer makes for a perfect Christmas Eve. I have this attitude about the white sauce my dad makes to go with the pudding. The stuff that comes with it in the packaging is just too sweet so Dad always makes a plain bechemel sauce. I know exactly how he makes it. I've seen him make it a million times. And yet I will never try to make it myself. I will always wait for him. Because it's perfect and it's Christmas when he makes it.

I wonder what winters in Scotland are like? It says on the BBC that tomorrow is going to be a high of 8 C and with cloudy periods. Chances are it'll be a lot like here.

I have also decided that I am cutting my hair. This is not motivated out of rage or the numerous bad hair days I have had in the past...six months. But namely because Emma Watson just (and by just I mean about three months ago) cut all her glory of England hair off into the most incredible pixie. That tipped the scale for me. I reminded myself of the promise I made not to cut it until the New Year when Michelle Williams cut hers, when Ginnifer Goodwin cut hers, when Carey Mulligan cut hers and when I met my aforementioned adorable friend Ginny who has the cutest pixie. We all know I'm not a bandwagon jumper but it was truly exhausting resisting these pulls. I tried to remind myself of that meagre hair promise until I saw Emma Watson. And that was it. It's done. And I will finally feel like myself again. I have had someone else's haircut for about a year. I thought I wanted to grow my hair out to 'have more hair to play with'. Well that's all sh%t. Emma Watson's hair is BONKERS. It's a haircut I have had many a time before and one that I adore. I have a small head and fine hair. Probably somewhere in my blueprint it says "should wear hair preferably in a pixie cut or some variation thereof". Can't argue with genetics. So that's the plan. And just in time for it to get COLD. I have scarves (LOTS) and happiness will warm my head.

"I eat bread all day long. My anxiety, it's like a workout."

Today I will be doing no such prompt. Because it was lame. This is my blogger discretion.

Outside my window... ванкувер (Vancouver). Winter here is so different. Today had that chill that winter has.
I am thinking... about handmade Christmas presents.
I am thankful for... my warm bed and the best snuggle buddy who hangs out there with me.
From the learning rooms...(if this applies) Tomorrow I have two tests and an essay due. But I only have two weeks left. I can make it. I can.From the kitchen... pumpkin chai tea from David's Tea up the road.
I am wearing... polka dot pjs and warm knitted socks.
I am creating... my creative writing portfolio
I am going... on a search for Yankee candles. $25 is a lot for a candle but it's sooooo worth it.
I am reading... Out Town by Thorton Wilder and Kitler: 55 Fictions by John Gould
I am hoping... for Christmas music and rice pudding this weekend.
I am hearing... "I need a dollar" by Aloe Blacc. One of those free itunes downloads from S'bucks. So awesome.
Around the house... I bought myself some 8 oz mason jars. Simple minds, simple pleasures.
One of my favorite things... chai eggnogs. I have to ration these bigtime but I they are Christmas decadence in a jar. Mmm.
A few plans for the rest of the week: Get through tomorrow. Have dinner at lovely Marcus and Meghan's house on Friday. I think we'll put up our decorations on the weekend.

Here is picture for thought I am sharing...two!

This time last year. Moozh and I in Victoria. It's our tourist picture.

Lacey and I at ZooLights. We got hot chocolate and I sat on a iron statue of a lion and pretty much frostbit my butt. And look at my nose!

We are yours, and yours is the kingdom

Are you spiritual, religious, agnostic, or atheist? Do you think there is one path to God, or many?

I like what G.K Chesterton says. "You can either get your head into the heavens or try and get the heavens into your head. But it is the man that tries to get the heavens into his head whose head explodes." And it's when we get caught up in the humanization of spirituality that I think it gets lost. Matt wrote a wicked and very articulate paper on the belief that what is meant by theos is become unified with God even in our mortal life, to embody his characteristics and his "likeness". It is not, as some would say, pantheism, for us to strive in this but the aim of our faith.

I find Christianity very conflicting. Matt and I are church shopping right now after being at a church that, for all the reasons we left, really helped us to clarify what we are looking for and what is important to us. And my fuse is so short on many of these things. It gets under my skin and I get really angry really fast. I find it amazing and in some cases so sad how people can believe certain things.

As for salvation, I believe that there are many paths that can lead you to encounter God, that can shake you out of who you are to see him. But I do believe that when Christ says, "It is only through me..." that he really means he is the only way. And there is peace in that. There is peace in knowing that our Saviour, who is full of grace and empowers us to live and better and more fulfilling life, that is his goal to get us there and he is willing to put all of who is he is and all of who we believe him to be into that.

I get overwhelmed talking about these things lately. If only I believed myself to be funnier, different, more captivating topics than this would be easier to write.

These things make me happy now.

• Chai eggnogs! The red mugs are back. Shits getting real.
• Plaid circle scarves. Like THIS ONE! Anything autumn coloured lately. It's mine.
• Pumpkin. I'm totally not done with it.
• This song. :)
• Shearling lined jackets. I live in mine. Live in it.
• Having a cuddle buddy every night.
• Real mail! Like handwritten, fun mail where you have your name handwritten on the front and who wrote it to you likes you.
• When people are just authentic. We went to Tenth Ave Alliance and they were just so real. The announcer (who is the church intern) was taking her time with the announcements and then she pauses, "So we're actually waiting for the worship band to get here." And from then on the night was relaxed. I wish I was more authentic at times.

P.S~ This is a great song.

So scared of getting older. I'm only good at bein' young.

What's the biggest sacrifice you've ever made for another person? Was it worth it?

My independence is easily one of the most powerful forces in my life. It is in being alone that I get recharged. It is being alone that I am most productive. It is when I am alone that I can be the most selfish. I've often been very selfish with my time with everyone in my life. I trained my friends and family growing up that leaving me alone was a necessary factor to bei

ng in relationship with me. It is only since I got married and had my heart burst wide open that I realize how unwise this is.

Giving up my independence, or more accurately, transforming my independence when I got married has been a profound change for me. Being in love and desiring to be around him all the time, I thought little of what my independence looks like. But marriage educates you in that very quickly. I missed having my own bed. I missed being able to go where I wanted to when I wanted to. But then seeing, the breath of my marriage and when it skipped along and when it sagged and heaved. Loneliness, nightly panic attacks, busy minds and heavy hearts melt away the moment we can sink into that sacred space. My husband wants me to be fulfilled and free. How independence changes in marriage is not entr

apment. Independence in marriage is not selfishness. And the personal metamorphosis that occurs in exploring these things and figuring them out is incredible.

What makes marriage, in its purest, truest form, so profound to me is the exchange of yourself for something infinitely different and complex. You are not merely yourself anymore, you are a unit. Two souls fuse. They become one in their intentions, goals and focus. Myself being nurtured is inextricably one with nurturing my partner.

We create worlds in each other and the vibrancy of marriage is dependent on that aspect. When you forget and disregard that, you negate the force that the Lord has chosen to move most in your life through. No one knows me better than my husband. There are people who have known me longer, who have seen me through stag

es but my husband is only one I give my life to.

And having independence and surrendering independence in marriage is not unified across the board. And for me it has been important to be vigilant of how I contextualize that sacrifice in my mind. I can see as it was taken or that I unwillingly, unknowingly gave it up. But then I stare those feelings in the face and I see they are created out of selfishness. For some women, keeping their name is a big deal. For me it wasn't. For some, having defined roles in the home is important. For some, gender roles are important, childhood traditions, spending habits. Each couple has their hill to die on. But it's theirs. And they do it together.

In other words, it's pretty amazing.

Cute!

I feel like they're speaking in a language I don't speak. And they're talking it to me.

What do you *really* wish you were doing right now, and how soon do you think you can make it happen?

I wish I was living overseas right now. My husband could be in Grad school, that would be awesome. St. Andrews

in Fife, Scotland, the third oldest University in the English speaking world (first and second being Oxford and Cambridge, respectively). I'm more articulate just talking about it so just think how brilliant I will become if I can rub shoulders with all those weird PhD students.

Scandinavia has really been on my mind lately. Norway, Sweden, Denmark. They is a different mind set there, I don't know how they

do it. The advances they make in gender relations, climate change, medicine, urban planning, geniuses all of them.

Vancouver has had a really profound effect on both Matt and I since we've been here and it's had a really profound effect on our marriage.

Victoria will

always be special to me and it still makes me smile to think of it and our time there but it was really useful for Matt and I to articulate what we needed as a couple and weren't getting in Vic. It is so obvious to me that the Lord has us here. In other words, I am very happy here but he made a fascinating, dynamic world and I want to see it.

I wish I was making my living off of my word (because that simply sounds so romantic I can't get over myself).

This semester has been really hard for me creatively because I hit a bit of writer's block. The

more I write the more I get the hang of it. I encountered a similar obstacle last year, struggling to write anything or find any momentum in the process, and then in the last cycle of WRIT 100, I hit it out of the friggin' park. At least I follow a similar pattern. If only I could speed up the stretching period a little. I know part of it this year is I'm just not inspired in this program. Last year, I was simply blown away by my professor. Not that my professors here are in any

way less so but at UVIC the professors seemed to this energy about writing which I haven't quite encountered here yet. But UBC is probably three times the size of UVIC so there are other factors at play. It blows my mind daily how many students actually go there.

This is from an Australian blog and it is genius. I should go to Australia too.

I wanted to include this because Calvin and Hobbes is always appropriate.

P.S ~ I also wish I was done school but I didn't really think I should include that. Seems a tad whiney.

When the rain starts fallin', gonna drown before we get our feet wet.

What do you like most about cold weather? What do you like the least?

Oh November...YOU'RE MAKING ME CRAZY! I only have in some cases as few as three classes left this semester. How did this happen? How...am I ever going to get everything done?

But I will, you know that? The last day of classes will come and go. I will finish my exams. Moozh and I will go to Cowtown and come home and it will be New Years. And then we do it all over again. I just don't remember getting November. Not that I have to be consciously there for that but I feel I should at least be aware.

So I suppose that is one of the things I like least about cold weather. It usually means shit gets real. I live with a Theology Grad student which puts things in perspective for me. I can whine (it is always so very temporary) about all the papers I have to write but Matt's papers are like the Magna Carta and he has to write them what seems like all the time.

But that's pretty much it! In Vancouver (and Vic) cold weather means my feet are always wet because I don't wear galoshes. I am somewhat too obsessed with silly footwear. But I wear hats. And lots of scarves. In Cowtown, cold weather you had chapped everything and couldn't go outside without resigning yourself to frostbite upon exposure. And potholes.

But cold weather means comfy socks, turning of the leaves, hot apple cider and comfort

food.

Freakin' Yum.

We were talking a couple of weeks ago about how it instantly (unfortunately) feels Christmassy when Starbucks brings out their red cups. Two days after Halloween, there they were, blazing red with mittens all over them. Out comes the eggnog and the peppermint sprinkles. I appreciate it all. Just all in good time. If I acknowledge the Christmas paraphernalia, I also have to acknowledge that I am going to be tested really soon on the things I haven't totally been paying attention to. Hmm.

Cold weather also means Christmas decorations and rice pudding and Christmas music. Plaid and no school. Watching a Christmas story and White Christmas (I'm pretty sure I can win at who can put 'Christmas' in their post the most). And for once during the year no one looks at my copious scarves and makes fun of me behind my back. All good.

Listen to this. It will make you happy. Be standing up because it's easier to dance that way.

And then listen to this. See above.

"Not ready to make nice, not ready to back down"

What was your favorite song this year? Five years ago? Ten years ago? Twenty?

NaBloPoMo has considerably made up for the lame question they prompted last week. This is a similarly awesome question. Awesome but difficult because there are simply So. Many. Good. Songs.

My favourite song this year? John Butler Trio came out with a new album this year! So did John Mayer. Assassin from the former I listen pretty much on repeat. So cool. This is Revolution by John Butler Trio. Their vids are piii-yump. Since we got to Vancouver, I've been listening a lot more to worship music. Doesn't mean I'm crossing over okay? No Focus on the Family and Modest is Hottest t-shirts for me. Phil Wickham's You're Beautiful is perfect. And Hillsong (I KNOW OKAY?!) do a version of Desert Song that usually brings me to tears. My album of this year though (not that it came out this year but the one that I can't stop listening to) is The Assassination of Jesse James by the Coward Robert Ford soundtrack. Longest title ever but magical. The piano and the creaky violin. Nick Cave is an Aussie genius.

Five Years Ago? I was sixteen years old. Oh boy. I was tucking homemade skinny jeans into vintage high heels and sculpting my mohawk to defy gravity. When I look back on my musical taste at that time, I'm really not too embarrassed of it. I was getting into the Red Hot Chili Peppers with Arie. I pretty much lived on RadioBlogClub and that's where I found out about The Innocence Mission, Blonde Redhead and Caravan Palace. All good music. And the album of choice of the year was most definitely Moulin Rouge. Reminds me of eating focaccia from the Bee Bell Bakery with Mama, Arie and Cami on Arielle's birthday roadtrip to Edmonchuck.

Ten Years Ago? I was eleven so this will be more embarrassing. I KNOW I was listening to Hanson and being suitably obsessed. I think this was also the crossover period between Hanson and N'Sync. Yeah I was one of those who proclaimed that the Backstreet Boys sucked balls (of course I didn't say that then) and went with the runner up. Even fewer were those who favoured 98 degrees. At least I wasn't one of those.

*The halloween party we went to last weekend put on "Backstreet's Back" during the dance party and it was friggin' awesome. A whole bunch of twenty somethings who knew ALL THE WORDS. Ultimate win for the Backstreet Boys.

Twenty-Years Ago? I was probably listening to "Jesus Loves You" or something from the Donut Man. Just coming up on your second birthday, I doubt there's a lot of autonomous choices. This prompt would be infinitely cooler if you were writing in your forties and you could reflect on Simon and Garfunkel. Or even my partner in crime who did the whole 'grunge' thing! Awesome. I feel so left out.

Christmas Project! Not that I don't already have four (count 'em) handmade (aka sewn) Christmas gifts to make. I am so so so excited for them because I know the giftees will love them but I am forcing myself to start now so that it doesn't come to the day before we leave for Cowtown and I'm sobbing because I sewed over my finger in a rush.

But these wreaths are so cute. I probably wouldn't go quite so far with the felt flowers but instead swap it out for some plaid wraps/bow-things.

"I see you face in every sunrise. The colour of the morning is inside your eyes."

What would your dream home/apartment/condo/yurt look like? Where would it be? Who'd live in it with you?

This is such a fun question! Apartment Therapy is a huge inspiration for this and I spend a little too much time there just gawking over things. "What!? Of course I want wallpaper in the print of vintage colonial maps! Of course!" I could spend hours in the paint section of home depot just slotting together paint swatches.

Matt and I want a big house when we have kids where our kids can always bring their friends over and it can be a place of community. Until then, we're content to live in quirky, character apartments with pale yellow tile and funky blinds.

Our friend in Victoria, Renata, has the coolest house ever. Her decorating style blows my mind and fills me with envy. Every time we would go over to her place, I would send Matt around to take pictures for me. My tiny phone, dropped many a time on the concrete, took fuzzy pictures go figure. From her I have taken open-face cabinets, selected Russian trinkets (like Matryoshka dolls) and mismatched Le

Crueset cookware.

Our favorite coffee shop in Victoria, Union Pacific, encapsulated a lot of how we wanted to

decorate our house. Old oak doors panelled the walls and they had a

vintage cash. Large chalkboards had their specials of the day on it and they had great worn in hardwood floors. The tables were made of heavy 2x4 with the iron rivets uncovered.

We have our great vintage furniture from Capital Iron (There's no Place like it!) that I hope we can hold on to until we move into a house.

I love the restaurants Open Sesame and Tango in Calgary. Whoever does their decorating is a genius! I want a big central pillar fireplace like in Open Sesame and a worn wood table like at Tango. Tango has a small wall that is white and studded with clear glass bottles which looks SO cool. I'm not sure how practical it is for home.

It's all dreams until we can actually find a place where we want to have our house. We visited Bowen Island over the weekend and it is a magical little island. Of course, we haven't been to Scotland yet and therefore haven't given it sufficient opportunity to steal our hearts.

P.S ~ As for the last part of that question, Matt can come. I'm favourably interested in him.

"Two brown eyes...are looking out for you."

I

think this picture is immaculate. Flickr is the best.

What makes you notice someone?

The funny thing about attending a large university (one of the funny things I guess) is that you are constantly people-watching. Not that you don't do this at a small university, or anywhere else to be honest, but at a large university with many students, you really have no choice. I'm drawn to people that are so at home with themselves, that simply being a

t peace sets them apart. Those that aren't afraid to be seen. The petite Asian girl in the library with a massive head of dreads. Or the girl with skull candy head phones and chains running the length of each

pant leg. The guy who stands head and shoulders above everyone else and still wears a mustard yellow shirt, not afraid to be a beacon from miles away. People that unabashedly sing along with their music through headphones. The huge metal guy in my class with a

massive viking beard who talks baby talk to his eighteen-month-old son over the phone before he heads into class.

I see people who like slouchy toques and big socks like me. People who wear brightly coloured tights. People who speak in different languages. People who speak up in class. People who walk with their heads up. People who make eye contact. People who seem comfortable in themselves. And Jewish people. Matt and I walked past a synagogue earlier this week just as a service was letting out. It was all 'Shabbat Shalom' awesomeness all over the place. With yarmulkes all over the place. Best. Thing. Ever.

This picture makes me smile. I miss my sisters.

"With it's roots firmly planted in the earth below"

Just as a preface, I think this is a really dumb question.

Would you rather be wealthy and ugly, wise and sickly, or beautiful and stupid?

I feel it is overly simplistic and moralistic. But it is a prompt and I am grateful for it.

I mean of course I would rather be beautiful and stupid. Those people get everywhere in this world. Our culture is obsessed with quantity over quality so it doesn't matter if I my breasts have nursed four children, it only matters that they are perky and ready for display. It doesn't matter if you've worked the ground to feed your family, rough skin is just unsightly.

And if you're wealthy, you're not really ugly are you? It's only a matter of cash before you can lose that Roman nose or wrinkly knees. What is meant, ugly on the inside or the outside? And not to bash rich people. It simply the correlation of the two for illustration purposes of how 'right' and 'altruistic' your heart is. Get over yourself.

As for wise, and sickly, I believe there is a profound thing that transforms you when your health, viability, and youth cannot be relied on. We will all encounter a place of sickness in our lives. Should the Lord keep you here until your old age, we will all find we don't remember as much as we used to, our joints don't stretch like they used to, we can't see, run, dance, or stay up at late as we used to. Given that time, given the transformative gift that is life, it would be a sad thing to reach the end of your life without a shred of wisdom.

On a happy note, it's totally cozy and wintery here now. No snow but those cozy later fall days that make you want to wear mittens and drink some ho-cho.

Samoy bolshoy den!

P.S ~ I won't post anything like this again. Makes me angry.

"How did we get here? I used to know you so well..."

Describe the plot of the next book you want to read, even if the book doesn't exist yet.

Oh books. No fun books for my brain right now. My only books are ones I don't really like. Such as "The World of Athens: Religion, Politics and Gender in Fifth Century Athens". Slain.

The second half of this question also makes me slightly terrified because it's....like, my job. If I could explain the bronchial network of plots in my mind, I would already be published. But there are books out there that aren't written yet that I would like to read, that I might even like to write.

Matt and I have decided that we are going to accomplish a "100 Books to Read Before you Die" list or some variant thereof. I've never read War and Peace. Matt is shocked (and slightly offended) that I've never read Meditations by Marcus Aurelius yet. Matt's never read "The Things They Carried". We haven't agreed on a list yet. I don't want to read through Esquire's "75 Books Ever Man Should Read" because it's slightly...partisan. Not that I have a problem with "dude books" but I feel the list was not representative. And I don't want to read Norman Mailer.

I almost gave into the "Girl with a Dragon Tattoo" to-do but I read the intro to the first book and I realize why it's so popular. It's a Dan Brown book. No disrespect, that man's made himself a comfy living but it's a similar kind of book. Action packed and accessible.

But there are a lot of books that seem to overlap these 'read it before you make a fool of yourself publicly' lists. But many of them not a lot of people have read. They are just those books that aren't lazy day, read them and fall asleep wearing your bathing suit books. My stage play teacher told me "Girl with a Dragon Tattoo" is such a book.

The books that make it on to lists like that are books that get into your brain. They get into your eyes and what you see. They get into your speak and how you talk.

I want to read either "Orlando" or "Mrs. Dalloway" by Virginia Woolf. After I watched "The Hours" I became inordinately obsessed with Virginia Woolf. I think she is powerful. In Orlando, a young man is metamorphosed into a woman and lives indefinitely through the eighteenth and nineteenth centuries. In my year at Mt. Royal we studied just a small portion of Orlando. It's totally weird and but it's supposed to be Woolf's most accessible novel. Not that I'm concerned with accessibility (see above).

And there's a movie with Tilda Swinton!

P.S ~ Did you know I've never read "Life of Pi"?!