that perfect hand…

In Ocean's 11, Danny said that "the house always wins. If you play long enough, never change the stakes, then the house takes you. Unless, when that perfect hand comes along, you bet big… and then, you take the house." Here's the hand I've been dealt, sometimes it's risky and sometimes it's safe, but all the time… it's perfect. It's mine.


weathering the storm(s)

I am feeling totally discouraged and I would just ask that you keep me in your prayers right now because, though my problems may seem minuscule to you (see my post from a few days ago), they are like torrential floods to me:

My car was broken into last night and my cd player was stolen. I need new tires and Troy and I did some price estimating yesterday and found a good deal. But what I saved in new tires I cannot afford in putting towards replacing my stereo.

Pastor Al was talking about generosity this morning at church and how God blesses those who bless others. I am all for that idea, and I guess I consider generosity is “freely giving” not being “freely taken from“. So on top of being frustrated, I am just confused. I don’t understand why people do these things — I innocently believe first in the good of people and I am just really struggling. So please, just pray for me. It’s been a long week.


losing my mind

I just want to clarify that I am not as responsible as I appear. Or as organized.

Case in point:

A. Last Thursday, after she had repeatedly told me it was cancelled and wouldn’t be happening, I went to ‘family dinner’ at Auntie Monika’s, ergo forcing Uncle R. to order us pizza as a result of my forgetfulness.

B. Monday I took off my new watch in the library while I was reading only to realize two hours later as I was walking to my car I wasn’t wearing it. I ran back to the library to find it sitting under my chair, much to my delight.

C. That same Monday, I spilled my tea in the morning all over my seat (this issue has two parts, first the tea spilling) and it was a hot day so I assumed it would dry up. The reason I was walking to my car was because my books were getting really heavy so I wanted to dump them off. I put them all on the said tea-spilt seat only to find at 5:00 pm that the seat had not dried before I put the books there so my brand new textbooks boast tea saturated stains now.

D. That same Monday I was praying in my morning devo about finances and struggling already and God just reminded me he’s taking care of me. That being said, I decided to go and buy my $70.00 textbook that I was trying to avoid purchasing. UVic has “cubbies” in the bookstore where you put your bags before entering the store. I bought the said book as well as a binder and notepad so in the process of putting those two items in my bag, I failed to put in the very-expensive-prayed-about-item and walked away. This was at 9:30am. At 4:00 pm, driving home, I was halfway back to Colwood (far) when I realized I hadn’t seen that book all day. I mad dashed in sheer hysteria back to UVic, praying that someone from the bookstore would hear my case with compassion and honour my receipt. As I ran into the bookstore, I glanced over to the cubbies and lo and behold, there sat — after seven hours — my history textbook. I estimate hundreds of students walked in and out of those doors but there. It. Still. Was. God was 1/2 smiling on my that day.

I went home in dire straits. I had had enough. Thinking the week could “only look up from here”:

E. Yesterday, I felt like junk. Like someone had taken my throat, head, and stomach out of my body, stomped on them, and put them back in. So I decided to skip my last class of only 2 classes of the day. As I am walking back to my car, I realize I don’t have my keys. Sure enough, they are locked in my CAR. What now you wonder? Well, bless his heart, my Dad (and his BCAA membership) were heading to Victoria that evening for dinner at my Aunts. Would he leave a little early? Sure he would! But that didn’t eliminate the awkward girl sitting on the curb right beside her car, in an act of fear someone would steal her pretty little car, reading for two hours in anticipation. (That was me, in case I lost you). By the time Dad arrived, called BCAA, tow truck never arriving at all, Dad takes matters into his own hands and in an act of true heroism and bravery, lassos a pieces of rope through the crack of the window and, with the aid of a long piece of wood, manages to open the window enough to reach in, it is now 6:15 pm and my skipping class to go home to bed is a distant memory.

The whole time I am thinking: My joy is being tested. My joy is being tested. My joy is being tested. My JOY IS BEING TES….ARE YOU SERIOUS, GOD?!?!

Like, enough is enough. I am sick of near-catastrophic events! I haven’t had a bad day in about 12 months… why now a bad WEEK?

On the upside, this week:

A. I sent Jes’ birthday present on time for the first time in a long time.
B. I finished all my History 315 readings early as well as finished three of my Young Adult lit readings on time.
C. Finished three items on my new “to do” list.
D. Successfully went down the blue (and tumultuous, freakishly scary) waterslide at our private swim at the Cowichan Aquatic Centre.
E. Witnessed a miracle. (It’s not an emotional, but rather hilarious, one for which you need my voice, animation, and excitement over the matter to explain. And it’s only amazing if you know the person it involves.)
F. And finally, after a year of dreaming, planning, devising, calculating, waiting, Joce and I took our rollerblades out on the Galloping Goose trail. It was a dream, I tell you, a dream. Complete with the misty eyed viewing and sun ray bursting setting.

See? It’s apparently not all bad.


mitch hedberg

Sue, one of my BFFs from high school, used to download comedy for her own listening pleasure. (She might still do it, we don’t really talk about those sorts of things). Sometimes, when she would find a particularly good one, she would call me and tell me to listen to it, sometimes over the phone (?), or when I would visit her, she would play it for me and wait expectantly for me to chuckle at the right spots. I would take my cue from her and laugh when laughter glazed over her own eyes, because I honestly (sorry Sue) did not think it was funny, at all. He wasn’t crude, by other comedic standards, and my lack of enthusiasm seemed to just be another peg on my socially incapacity scale — it was really hard for me to admit that I was naive, especially when [by all appearances] I was pretty socially smart and “in”. (I am not ‘tooting my own horn’ I am just saying that our ‘group’ in high school was pretty much the conventional ‘in’ crowd, much to my 23 year old wisdom dismay, so when I struggled with things that were ‘in’ that I didn’t understand, I never admitted it, hence the need for a therapeutic blog of admitting past issues).

Also, I struggled with that comedians often sound like they are on drugs/drunk or they often laugh or crack jokes at the expense of others. Wrong. Stupid. Glorifying humour that we should stay away from. But then again, I am all for people who can poke fun at themselves.

Anyways, I didn’t think Mitch Hedberg was funny. In fact, ‘funny’ to me isn’t always what other people think is funny. Just before Christmas, Luke and Buzz and I took a study break and I brought over Superbad to watch with them. Maybe it was the 18th C Literature that was suffocating my brain, but I also didn’t find Superbad funny. In fact, I found myself stealing looks at the men to know when I should be laughing, even though when Luke started full on rage-cackling at a scene, I was thinking ‘is this guy for real?’…Luke, not the movie… I couldn’t believe they thought parts were as funny as their laughs dictated. I watched Superbad again a couple months later, on my own, and while it didn’t make me laugh out loud like it did them, I could see definite funny-possibilities once I watched it again.

I find this fascinating, because I like to think of myself pretty easygoing and always up for anything, particularly if fun is involved. But regular old 21st C hilarity is just not funny to me. I mean, some comedy is fantastic… I think we can all agree that Ellen is absolutely fantastic, I do laugh out loud at her show whenever I catch it on the TV and her stand-up DVD I must’ve watched every time I went over to Daly’s house the year after I graduated (well, maybe the two times they had rented it…but hey). But yea, it’s just not my thing. It’s almost as if movies or comedy are almost forced humour, and I can’t seem to get over that they are standing up in front of an audience and their whole purpose is to be funny. It’s almost as if I don’t want to give them the satisfaction of my laughter because I refuse to let people make money or entertain by physically trying to be funny. So even if a part of me wants to LOL, my psyche refuses.

Therefore, when people put me on the spot and say ‘hey Kate, check this out!’ I cringe because 9/10 times it’s either comedy, like Mitch Hedberg, that I struggle laughing at, something stupid that a human being has done that I will laugh laugh laugh at to a point where the person showing me questions my morality, or a dumb movie that is so absolutely hideous that I start getting angry that I wasted a moment watching it.

People, time is something we cannot get back.

Although, I do love this quote from one of Mitch Hedberg’s finer moments:

“I’m sick of following my dreams. I’m just going to ask them where they’re goin’, and hook up with them later.”

(Please respect the fact that this blog is A: a matter of personal opinion and B: does not, by any means, serve to inhibit you from showing me ‘funny’ things… I Just needed to create a safe haven so I don’t have to keep pretending anymore and C: like many things, is completely blown out of proportion).


the way I see it…

There is not enough time in a day or week or semester to get done what needs to. Not just school, but hanging out with God, devos, working out, cooking meals, calling home, writing e-mails, sleeping, watering plants, staring at pictures on the wall, spinning around and around on the chair Auntie M gave me, adjusting my webcam to perfect focus for Skype conversations with Ang in Europe, moisturizing, plucking my eyebrows, going to the doctor/dentist/optometrist, ensuring summer work, dreaming about the future, missing people, making friends, opening and closing the window and/or blinds, using measuring cups, brushing my teeth, downloading music, laundry, riding the bus (or driving for that matter), watching Prison Break, taking clothes to the Salvation Army, making my bed and unmaking it to go to bed, hanging up clothes, making small talk with roommates, charging my cell phone and/or iPod, rollerblading, making coffee (sans Lenten fasting), or writing on my blog?

Seriously. How in the world can I do what I need to do? From that list, I would appreciate some insights and aid in prioritizing. I lack so much motivation right now and it’s not good at all. I just don’t know how to get everything done. Believe it or not, I just wasted 15 minutes on this list. Clearly, I am doing something wrong! Worldly wise advice? Yes, please!!


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up, up, and away

‘Here I go again on my own…” cue the cheesy 80’s music…I leave for Camrose tonight! All week I have stuffed down any minor excitement over that fact due to homework, going to Dad’s, purchasing Prison Break Season 2 (Which I watched in-season, I just needed to add it to Season 1), and writing two [relatively] large papers and a midterm this morning, I am currently off from univ. for a solid 11 days! Yeaaa! So now I can get excited. I can’t wait to see Jes and Mark and a friend’s brand new twin boys and Mark’s family and some decent movies…I am going to see it all! But more importantly, I get to leave this heinous Victoria weather.


I don’t care that 80% of my blog-reading population is a Victorian…by choice, I am assuming…but please. It has been pouring rain all morning and it’s also been in the positive temperatures. I guess I like going against the grain because most people relish in the mild temperatures. I do not. I think February should feel like February; spring and winter should be highly definable, different seasons. This morning when I took the bus to school, it was not raining and it was not sunny, it was gray and there was this odd sense of walking through a mist. I thougt after 6 months I would be prepared for rain at every turn, but apparently I am not… what suffers more from this trauma than my [wanting to be] cold heart, is my hair. There is nothing worse than a mist-intoxicated-Kate-head-of-hair. Coupled with the fact that when I left school it was full on rage-raining, and I had to wait 20 minutes at an uncovered bus stop, there is no break for me! And don’t even get me started on the lack of a rain gutter on this house…it just pours onto my head as I walk out the door! Unfortunately, it seems to be like this relatively consistently! So I am excited to leave the perma-wet streets of Victoria, bundle myself up with boots and a toque, and get off the plane in much more un-heinous temperatures…


Yes, that’s me. I got a haircut and tan. That’s how heinous it is.

Don’t argue with me. Honestly, my heart broke the other day for Alicia as she told Jordi and I that she doesn’t know what a true winter with snow is like. What a shame. What. A. Shame. Maybe she should come to Alberta with me.

Also, heinous means hateful; odious; abominable; totally reprehensible, grossly wicked. So in a line from my English professor “Hey, if the word fits…”


I think I will need a week to get over this morning. Have a fabulously, un-heinous number of days… I leave tonight at 7:30 so please pray for safe travels and growth in maturity over things that I cannot control. Clearly I need it!

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what the heck for art thou?

Guess what?

I may have mono. I went for bloodtests and I was reading in a devotional saying that it is ok to not have it all together all the time…and it’s okay to ask for prayers…so if you can pray for me and cross you fingers that I do not have mono, instead I have low iron or something, anything, that would be awesome.

Also, just an update of the awkward-girl situation with the girl from high school in my class: well, she half smiled then half smirked at me on Tuesday. God is teaching a lesson in patience and “turn the other cheek” because my face wanted to smirk-smile so bad back at her, I actually felt my cheek have a seizure of mild involuntary-reflex-constraining (I just made that up, please do not ask me what it means…it just sounds good) from doing the deed. No longer am I feeling the need to settle things with her but rather, I am feeling a calm sense of irrationality on her part. So I am progressing. I don’t know in which way, but I no longer steal looks at her from afar or flinch every time her hand goes up “coincidentally” right after I’ve made a glorious comment for discussion… half thinking she is going to sucker punch me with her words. Nope, no longer. I sit there in my desk now, minding my own business. And since it is a Shakespeare class, and staying in tune with the themes of the course, I figure that if this little ordeal ever comes to a boil, all it will take is the option of three aggressions: a duel with swords, death by broken heart, or a beheading. Unfortunately, Logan Rutherford would not let me try out his sword the other day so I am out of practice on dueling and I don’t think either [the girl] or I would die of a broken heart from our “past” (or current present), so I guess our tragic fate is decapitation. I swear, I was born 4 centuries too late… the drama, ohhh the drama.

Come hither! Anon! (Please, again, do not ask me what that means)


walked all over… literally

I am a struggling disappointment.

No matter which way I spin it, I can’t seem to measure up.

I am too clean, therefore my roommate rages because she feels my cleanliness is a passive aggressive way of making her be clean. It’s not, at all, why I am clean. But okay. (I have many more roomie examples of how I am a constant failure but I will leave that topic at a standstill for the lack of privatization of this venue…I am sure I will need re-constructive personality counselling once this school year ends and we part ways!).

I take the bus, not because I am environmentally conscious but rather because I am bank account conscious [gas and parking]. And the weather in Victoria is very mild compared to Calgary, even though I am not used to the rain. So I under dress for my bank account conscious ride to school in the morning, yet when I am waiting for the bus, the rain pours and I am left a soggy mess the rest of the day. What sort of pay off is that?

I eat healthily and work our religiously at a very routinely pace of certain hours of the day, certain amounts, certain balances, and I get a ton of sleep, but I am absolutely exhausted all the time. My body is letting me down.

I read and read and take notes only to have a quiz this morning that was only on one very specific act of the play. I try to overachieve, then end up royally undeachieving, as I didn’t focus enough on it to get 10 out of 10. I think I plateaued at 5.

I pay close attention to the couple I was house sitting for, especially how I was supposed to ‘arm’ and ‘disarm’ the alarm. the first thing I do when I began my job? Set it off the alarm. The alarm company was very gracious, but I am not sure how the couple feels.

To top it all off, yesterday I was walking into the computer lab as Luke was walking out of it. He’s 6’2. I am 5’4.5ish. I said hi and waved to him and he literally walked/looked right over me. Maybe the air up there is a little stuffier, therefore inhibiting his ears and eyes, but when I asked him about it later, he absolutely did not see me… and yet if I had reached out about 4 inches form my body (my struggling, exhausted body), he would’ve been in my arms, we were that close. My height has always served decently for me, really just became something of a complex in that moment (and subesquently, from now on). It was embarrassing humbling to note that not only am I a struggling disappointment, but I am an unnoticeable one.

And these examples are only the last 4 days! The rest of my life provides a true, embarrassing humbling testament to that.

It’s not funny.



the audacity of feelings

Audacity means “daring” or “shameless boldness”. Here’s my mentality about feelings: How DARE they BOLDLY take over our lives? That’s right…I understand somewhat how we are in control of our emotions and such, but I am a firm believer in we control how we project these feelings, not necessarily that we feel them. Make sense? I thought so.

See, it goes something like this. Girl meets Boy. Boy is nice to Girl. Girl decides nice Boy is pretty special. Girl still just wants to be friends with Boy. But Girl can’t help thinking about Boy. Boy then controls 14% of Girls thoughts. Unfortunate, because Girl didn’t want feelings towards Boy. (This is purely hypothetical, it’s not me, trust me).

Or case in point: I have a Shakespeare final tomorrow night that I know I have to perform absolutely brilliantly on. It’s tomorrow. And I’ve done about 6 hours worth of play summary reading. That’s it. And while I am studying I am not actually paying attention to it…which is frustrating because even though I know I have a ton of work to do and to get focused, my raging feeling that “I just don’t care” is getting the best of me. But I do care my mouth is screaming while my head is saying no you don’t, you’d rather be crafting paper snowflakes and hanging them on your Christmas tree. (Again, relatively fabricated but the reality is true: no matter how much I KNOW I need to do something, my feelings of not WANTING to get in the way).

Just go with this… I think it is bizarre how much we try to submit to the uncontrolled parts of our lives, such as dressing for the weather or working because it is needed…we forget that we are controlling human beings. Admit it, I really don’t care, but we’re all control freaks in our own rights…I am a particularly good one. And lately, I am having a huge difficulty with the one thing I thought I would always have control on: what I feel.

I am also a chronic liar. I so badly do not want to feel certain ways about things so I will lie and say I don’t. Do you like that dip? I didn’t make it so I don’t care if you do or don’t, I just want to know. [I am gagging after my bite of it but I respond.. it’s a delicate blend of cucumber and raspberry…I loved it…]… like, what the heck. Why can’t I just trust the fact that my feelings, controlled or not, are mine, therefore legitimate. If I had admitted how I felt about the dessert then I wouldn’t have heard Really? You liked it? I thought it was awful. All I was hoping was that you would agree with me. Man, you’re weird and we’re not friends anymore. K that again is a fabrication, but it sure felt that that’s what went down.

It is so huge…trusting your instincts and feelings…and I think I am tainted and unsure of my own because of all the people in the world who force their feelings, albeit opinions, on you. I don’t want to be that guy that says thyme really doesn’t seem to make a difference in a dish…so no, it is not your secret ingredient. Try again. But even so, I silently argue and wrestle with my feelings…so it’s not like I just ignore them, truthfully, out loud, but I am in constant turmoil with them inside.

It is a Swiss tragedy really (I don’t think it appropriate to say it’s a Greek one because I am not Greek)… how my audacious feelings can be so ridiculous, unexpected, brilliant, or lame… but I can’t seem to surrender my control and just have them [feelings]. To do with ANYTHING. Tragic.

Hindsight is always 20.20 so maybe when I am Nana’s age I will be able to gleefully say I sure felt cold in the -40 weather my second year at university when I forgot to wear my mitts rather than at the time, when Gee, Paul, no I am LOVING being out here in the raging, glorious -40 weather looking for your earring you lost in the snow. I am SO glad to be out here, I am staying warm just thinking about how much I am helping you. (This episode did not take place…Paul does not wear an earring…but it’s a clear example of something I would do).
Please just hold me accountable to my true feelings, thus support me as I descend into severe depression from my pending terrible grade on my Shakespeare final…just remind me later Kate, you just finally faced your true feelings…you didn’t want to study, so I support your failure.
Thanks, I needed that.

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Can I just say, catering to the less enlightened audience of mine (like me), that renting movies is absolutely atrocious? Last night my sweet cousin Micaela and I had a date. We rented ‘Ratatouille’ and got some candies/ice cream and settled in for a fantastic little evening. However, the movie cost a whopping $6.09! Can you believe it? I mean, 4 more $ and I could’ve watched it at the cinema, on a large screen (seeing as I couldn’t get Scott and Ky’s to work so we had to watch it on the little one in the bedroom!), and had the whole “movie going” experience (which I love). Is it just me? Or is that outta control?! Or am I just getting SO ridiculously old that I can remember when Joce and I would rent two new releases for $5.00?! I think it’s disgusting.



i need a life

Hey avid readers…. all those I know, don’t know, and used to know (actually that’s a good question I have no idea who even reads this thing). ANYWAYS, I am calling on your for prayer-support for me. I have 6 papers due in the next 4 weeks and I am having a stress-flash. I am leaving for Camrose on Thursday (which I am super excited about) but just pray for me that I get some work done while I am there — it is crucial to my world. I am so scared about not finishing on time and I am even more scared about producing bad work. I hate failing at things and I hate when November hits and all of a sudden I am royally overwhelmed and questioning my life, future, and reason for being. Yes, it is that hardcore… I am on the verge of mental breakdown.. which I never thought was possible for a 22 year old. But then, I think that every year.

Love you all: friends, family, enemies, and people I have no idea of — that’s tripping me out still.

Cheers!PS I took this pic on my new cell phone from my car when it was raining, hence the spots and only half of the parliament buildings. But I think it’s not bad, especially for a phone (which rocks by the way – It’s a Motorola Krzr K1 and it is part of Bono’s Product(RED) campaign – which I totally support and you should totally check out).