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.


personal profile

Excuse me while I digress – I’ve had a long and difficult day. Some would attribute it to the fact that I messed up the cinnamon buns I was making (apparently I killed the yeast – who knew?) while others might think it’s because of my constant efforts to become Makenna or Elias’ favourite second cousin (or whatever I am) only to be batted and pushed away, literally, in the face. I am struggling.

But the truth is about this dang personal profile letter I have to write to my pending mentor teacher at the school I am going to be student teaching at. I have such a hard time selling myself and since it is supposed to be about confident and brave and smart and intelligent and admirable Kate, it’s very difficult to write when I screwed up a recipe, had hurt feelings by the people in my life that are less than two feet tall, and misused not one but three words over the course of the weekend which are probably making the other members in those three said conversations question themselves on whether or not I should even be teaching English.


Ergo, you all need to contribute to my statement. Consider this your opportunity to compliment me profusely in the comment section of this post. Kind of like those blog contests you see on the Pioneer Woman or something where the best answer to the contest question receives a prize. Only in this case there is no prize per say, just your own confidence in knowing you played some role in advancing that masterpiece that will eventually be labelled “Kate’s Career”… so if you’d be so obliged:

Why do you think I would make a good teacher? Why do you think the teaching profession is the one for me?

And OBVIOUSLY if you disagree with my career choice and me in it, feel free to comment on that as well… heck, it’ll make everything a lot more interesting. Nothing is going to make me feel any worse today. (Trav, if you feel the need to contribute to this, please remember that sarcasm is dead in written form so please be careful with my oh-so-fragile self esteem).

5-4-3-2-1… comment!

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get real

I know this video pertains to the US of A… and has some bad language…and for that I am sorry. But I like the message and whatnot. Since we’re coming up on our own election(s), maybe hearing from Leonardo DiCaprio or Jennifer Aniston will make the urgency of voting more obvious. So imagine they are referring to the Canadian elections and are not swearing:


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).



“I found my place
In a fairytale of thought”

Maybe it happened because I cut off my hair (well, 4 inches of it) but I am struggling lately. Struggling to find the words for what is going on in my head and heart right now.

I was just driving back from my girlfriend’s a little while ago. It started raining and I went down to the beach for a little bit (stormy weather = strong waves = God’s fine masterpiece) and I noticed that I struggle with how to express what’s going on but just how absolutely quiet everything is right now. During school the noise becomes so loud (and downright obnoxious) that I sometimes forget my motive or approach or reasoning for what I am doing. Or what I did. It’s easy to justify things based upon all that noise and simply not hearing over the loudness that consumes us.

But right now, everything is so quiet. Not in a way that makes me believe that it’s ‘setting me up for something’ or that I am numb, but a stillness that is making me feel like, if only for a breath, that I am where I am supposed to be (mentally, physically, emotionally) and I don’t want it any other way right now. My sister was talking to me about being newlyweds or pregnant or just dating or just engaged or any other milestone in that part of life and told me that she is content with where she and her husband are at. And I think that that might be where I am. It’s pretty quiet here. I don’t mean not lonely and I definitely don’t mean I’ve peaked, but I do think God has me right where He needs me to be and I am not worried. It’s just…really cool.

It’s kind of like at the end of Christmas holidays and we’ve just removed all of the ornaments from the tree for another year. The tree stands there, just as it did before it had ornaments on it, erected in a way that makes you think ‘while the ornaments made it beautiful, the tree can stand on its own, without all that’. And for a moment, we stare at the tree in a way that glorifies the tree just for being a tree, for standing in your living room, for what it represents.

I feel like I am a tree stripped of all my ornaments right now. Even though our ornaments are irreplaceable, what is there when they are gone? Strip them away. Take away what says ‘student’ or ‘mother’ or ‘wife’ or ‘child’. Take away the part of you that is for your children, your family, for work and play and commitments and goals and pride and accomplishments and dreams and obligations. If you removed the grudges and pain and anger and bitterness and hyper activity and laughter and emotion and depression and love. Whatever you’ve decided that defines you, whatever things you believe you’re only good for or not good enough for or whatever you would say to someone when saying ‘this is who I am’. If that was stripped all away, as it will be one day, what will you be? Who will you be? Where do your desires end and God’s desires begin? Where to they merge? Where have you lost yourself? Did you lose yourself on purpose? Are you ignoring something that you know you shouldn’t be? Are you being encouraged to say something you should have a long time ago? Are you afraid to be honest? Are you scared to be vulnerable? Are you aware that all that you have and all that you control really is beyond your possession and beyond your control? Did you know you’re not always right (but you’re not always wrong, either)? Did you know that what you could’ve done when you chose not to could’ve changed the day of that person for the better? Did you know at the end of the day, all that matters is you and God, not what we acquire and desire in this life? Did you know that we always have options? Did you know that at this very moment you could be in someone’s prayers and have no idea? All I know is that we are a lot more transparent, not only to God, than we’d like to believe.

It’s just very quiet right now. I want to know all of those things. I am just waiting. It’s pretty cool right here.


august rush

Movie Review #1:

I have not seen a movie in theatre in a VERY long time, and in celebration of classes ending and Adrienne (my roommate)’s last night in town, we went and indulged and watched August Rush. Pure G-rated brilliance. Seriously. It was a beautiful story of two people who, as life allowed, lost their son (and eachother) and the course of the movie is about how the boy believed that his music would bring his parents to him. Honestly, it was heartwrenching, beautiful, emotional (Adrienne cried), adorable, and the music was fantastic. If you want a feel-good, melt-your-heart, worth-every-dollar movie to watch…go watch August Rush. It could have just been my mood, but I saw previews for this movie months ago and was waiting and waiting to see it… and it was worth the wait for me. As a G-rated flick, it is very clean and not very dramatic, but again, it was a beautiful story. Watch it.


let’s talk… advice

I think advice is hilarious… in fact, my sister and brother in law are here and while we were at the beach today (that’s right, I had a day off… which included some brilliant wine tasting!) with Nate, Jayme, and Mom we had a rare occurrence that had Mark suggesting I blog about advice… so hopefully I can do it some sort of justice, aside from it being a “had to be there” moment(s).

The reason behind the fantastic humour that I find in advice is that there are so many types of it. And so often, the kinds of advice we get or recieve are that ones that we just don’t want.

1. The Parental Advice – this type is what we don’t always want to hear but know they are probably right speech. Difficult to stomach when you’re a teenager, invaluable when you’re trying to do something they id or know alllll about. “Back when I was your age…”

2. The Unwarranted Advice – this advice is the kind you recieve when someone, potentially thinking they have your best interests at heart, assumes by something you’ve said or written or acted or didn’t show up for, that they have some powerful words to help you through “it”, even though in your head, there is “nothing” that needs advising… heck, we all know what happens when we assume… “Not that it’s any of my business, but I am going to make it my business, what’s with that look on your face today?”

3. The Friendly Advice – this category might be the easiest to handle, because the person giving it to you is not attacking you or telling you how it is, they simply may phrase it like “I wouldn’t do that…. but what do I know.” It’s safe, where if you’re the one giving it, you can say “Well, I tried” and the person recieving it can say “Thanks but no.”

4. The Advice Asked-For – when you need advice and you get it, but not in the form of by which you so desired. Basically: you had a stress-flash, needed advising, and either took it or not, but was more a way you could justify venting about your world. “HELP”

5. The Timely-Silent Advice – when a family member or friend or acquaintence advises you but doesn’t realize that you needed that at a specific, that specific, moment. When someone tells you just to “go with the flow and relax” yet they have no idea you just were 30 mins late for your job interview.

6. The Annoying Advice – when someone tells you something because they know-OH-SO-much better than you… but what they tell you, you already know (and have heard a thousand times before. It’s like reminding someone to breathe. “Just do it, trust me it’ll keep you alive. I’ve done it.”

7. A Man’s Advice – just let it go. “Don’t you think you’re making a big deal about it?”

8. A Woman’s Advice – you need to talk about it, let’s all get a java and sit on the deck and hack out our feelings. “I have so, like, been there before, girl…”

9. The Guy-at-the-Beach Advice (to the lady beside him, all too loudly)- “I think you just need to get out of debt seriously just get working and take care if it INTERJECTION: kids get lost (his own kids), it costs a lot to get to the beach, if I wanted to spend all day talking to you, I would kept you at home now let me talk about adult stuff. RETURN: No seriously, just tuck a nip (WHAT?) and have some fun. Also, kids (tlaking to his kids who never got-lost), a speedo is the biggest faux-pas ever. Like, keep those (you-know-what) in long baggy trunks not for the world to see, I mean… it’s just disgusting. What’s yours is yours and mine is mine. No speedos…. ” This was his rant, all too loudly, for our entirety of our beach afternoon… it was so ridiculous, I can’t even begin to get into detail. But his advice was just a category on it’s own, and since my site is g-rated, I definitely cannot share.. I just thought when I saw him that he was a regular, run of the mill kind a man, who knew he was a regular Dr. Phil. No seriously.

And finally,

10. The Best Advice – things you hope to hear and then VOILA! your friend tells you, without any form of convincing. “Who cares if he’s 30?”

That’s right. 30 is the new 22. That’d make me … 14? Nevermind. Thanks, Leanne.


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I think that facebook is ruining people’s lives. I mean, the phenomena of an Internet website is astronomical. I don’t understand. Yes, I have facebook and yes, it served as an unintelligent procrastinating mechanism when I was at school. But now that I’ve been on holidays for a little over two months, I’ve been able to stand back and notice what a waste of time that thing is; and how it has been detracting from all other things that are most enjoyable. Such as, the last e-mail I got was from Jocelyn, and Jessica, on the same day. 10 days ago. Before that, I hadn’t gotten one since Jes sent me one before that, weeks and weeks ago. But see, Jes doesn’t have facebook. Also, I haven’t posted on my blog simply because between the 38 degree heat, a full time job, going to the gym everyday, and my pending birthday looming in my brain, I haven’t really felt like sitting down at the computer to vent. And I don’t have much to say. But… can everyone else who blogs have such rampant excuses like mine? Probably not! There is a list of about 15 blogs that I check regularly, given that I am on the computer. Guess how many have updated since a month ago? Three. I am convinced, that what once used to be a tool for ONLY college students to post notes and get together for group projects, has now turned into this extreme mass of preoccupation by most people who have access to Internet. It is not longer “Oh can I check my e-mail?” but now it’s a pile driven rush to “GOTTA check my facebook! I wonder who tagged me or wrote on my wall in the last 20 mins since I left my house and got to yours.” What’s worse, not only do you post pictures or have people write on your “wall”, people can download these “applications” to put on their pages where members can have fish tanks, flower gardens, food fights, have favourite friends, graffiti, and the list goes on. Basically, they are ensuring that youth of today don’t need to do anything but own a computer. Why would they have to go elsewhere? They can do it all on face-beek. They can have pets or talk to people. I think it’s actually disgusting. But like I said, I do have the gimmick.

I never thought an e-mail or text messaging would be outdated; that msn messenger wouldn’t just have replaced the phone, but been replaced itself. No longer are people going to be wishing for snail-mail. Ohh no.

I hate to admit that this 21 year old (well for T-2 days) is already feeling her age, and potential burnout from this digital era. All I want is an e-mail. Or a phone call. “I remember when my best friend actually KNEW my phone number from repeated usage….” Ahh.

I digress.



Sometimes I feel an urge to let people acknowledge some inner part of my soul. Like right now. I would just like this known, on the record, that I loathe shopping. Especially at Chinook Centre, on a Sunday afternoon, amidst the craziness of Christmas hu-bub. Truthfully, the sight of all the babies (I swear, Moms bring them out at this time of year specifically…) or the kids lined up in anticipation of sitting on Santa’s knee does not, I repeat, does not make the event any more enjoyable. The fear that you will run into that guy from your past or english 354 class is always looming in the sweat and chocolate smell, a compilation of scents from the huge amount of RUSHING Calgarians and the Cookies by George stand. And to top that all off, do you ever even find what you are looking for? I swear, I should just hold off on that Christmas gift idea until the middle of January, where I can grab an Orange Julius and wear my flipflops and leave the cellphone in the car… but then I would rather be bowling or shooting hoops or hanging out in residence like old times.

My thought strayed there for a second, sorry, it is just that my excuses for not going Christmas shopping are wearing thin and I am justifying why people might be recieving gifts in July or something. Because I HATE SHOPPING.

Want to know a secret though? I do enjoy it sometimes… when it means retail therapy, Chapters, American Eagle, a MAC store, and a credit card I found on the road. That belongs to Paul Brandt. Who I sadly did not see at Centre Street tonight.

This entry is what people in english call “stream of consciousness”… just a mass production of jargon. And the picture is just self explanatory… well, it’s cute.