Tree Time

Early Valentine's Day

2010-02-01T19:04:00.000-08:00

With the next few weekends fully booked, D and I decided to have a romantic dinner for two before it got too busy to commemorate our third Valentine's as a married couple at one of our favourite restaurants in Abbotsford, Restaurant 62.

braised New Zealand lamb osso bucco with black olives, whipped russets, and winter vegetables

roasted pork tenderloin with dried fruits and red wine jus, Yukon potato salad, bacon, and cabbage ragout

dark Callebaut chocolate and peanut buttercup

Other delectable treats, but for which we have no photos:
- roasted porcini mushroom soup with truffle, sage, and extra virgin olive oil
- pan-fried west coast oysters with Dijon crust, sweet pea, and bacon cream
- classic vanilla and citrus creme brule

Meet the Troutmans

2010-01-25T21:07:00.000-08:00

An aunt embarks on a journey with her 15-year-old nephew and 11-year-old-going-on-41 niece to find their estranged father as her sister lies in the psych ward asking for death. Filled with sarcastic wit, teenage angst, disillusioned romance, poignant memories, and a dictionary for the young curious mind, the Ford Aerostar carries nothing, but entertainment for the reader riding along on this voyage.

We travel with Hattie, the aunt, and Logan, the nephew. But Thebes, the niece, is my favourite passenger in the van. Think Olive Hoover of Little Miss Sunshine and Mary Horowitz of All About Steve packaged into one lovable creature all dressed in royal blue terry cloth, with purple wild hair, and covered in candy necklace powder. The way in which Thebes fuses her imagination and reality to make the world she lives in more bearable is simply delightful and quirky.

On her brother's driving:

Then Thebes went into this strange kind of commentary thing she does, quoting the imaginary people in her head. This time it was a funeral director, I think. She said: With an impact this severe there is not a hope of reconstructing this kid's face. She banged the back window with her fist.
What was that? I asked her.
The lid of my coffin slamming down, she said. Closed casket. I'll be unrecognizable anyway.

Thebes stuffs her suitcase with various art supplies to make over-sized novelty cheques for people, but she doesn't pack clothes. She has an imaginary bandmate named Mojo. Her birthday is Shteltl the Eighth. She lets her brother throw a frisbee through the open van doors while she sits in the seat; the frisbee inevitably hits her in the face, she cries, he apologizes, and she forgives by kicking him in the nuts.

The Flying Troutmans was a hard book to put down; I turned page after page revealing layers of family dynamic masked in dark humour. Author Miriam Toews reminds her readers that everyone, even ones as dysfunctional as the members of this family, desires to belong, to be heard, to be seen as only human.

Thebes and I watched cowboys get thrown off raging bulls and be rescued by clowns. She had pink cotton candy all over her face and arms and hands and legs and feet and shoulders and back....A nice old man sitting next to her let her borrow his watch so she could count off the eight seconds, the length of time the cowboys were supposed to stay on the bull's back. She yelled out the numbers in German and then French and then Spanish. She was very excited and had to be reminded constantly, by the family of haters behind us, to sit down and stay down, they'd paid their money to see the bronco bustin' and dang if they were gonna have some wild foreign retard leapin' up every second and blockin' their view.
...She gave the man his watch.
Thank you very much, she whispered. I'm sorry if it's sticky.
No problem, gunslinger, he said.
She watched the rest of the cowboys silently. Tears were running down her face and getting mixed up with the cotton candy.
...Go ahead, I said.
It's just that..., she said.
I know, I said.
It's just that...I'm not retarded, she said.
I know that, I said.
I just want Min, she said. She never yells at me. She thinks I'm beauti--
You are, I said. She couldn't get very far past that before it all erupted and she was sobbing in my arms and then all the captive little heifers in the barn next to us joined in, crying and lowing like a bovine choir of angels in solidarity with Thebes.

Haiti Earthquake

2010-01-14T18:50:00.000-08:00

Red Cross

Samaritan's Purse

UNICEF

Dear Heavenly Father,

May you comfort the people who have lost loved ones in this disaster and those who are anxiously waiting for news of the safety for their beloved. May your peace be felt amidst this chaos. We may not understand why this happens, but we know it cannot stop your healing and loving power. Lord, protect the people who are providing humanitarian aid, so that their efforts are not hampered by other dangers; we know they have enough on their plates. Provide relief quickly, Lord, for everyone affected.

We pray this in Christ's name,

Amen

New Year's Resolutions

2010-01-04T22:07:00.000-08:00

Keep me accountable, friends...

1. Exercise each evening after I brush my teeth and before I shower. If I miss a night, I cannot miss more than two, unless I am so sick and bedridden. If time permits, I will do other exercises in addition to the following, but I must do a minimum of:

a) 100 elbow to knee sit-ups (20 for 5 intervals)
b) 20 leg lifts (sideways) (10 on each side)
c) 50 bicep curls (25 on each arm)
d) 20 tricep curls (10 on each arm)
e) 1 Cobra pose
f) 1 Downward Facing Dog pose

2. Write Christmas cards in the summer.

Bad Poetry About Household Plants

2010-01-02T22:13:00.000-08:00

I received a plant as a gift.
The remnants of the cyclamen
are now adrift.
The fortune of bamboo
slowly drains
until is also taboo.
Not even Christmas
cheer could save this one
it seems to say, "wreck us"
What is unkillable
than cacti?
Remember, Titanic was "unsinkable."
Except for one
nameless green organism
after two years has won
A fake plant was given to me
to avoid more deaths.
Plants worldwide breathe, "Finally."

A Real Lars and the Fake Girl

2009-12-29T12:01:00.000-08:00

The movie isn't so far from the truth.

Check out Robot Romance

The Best Kind of Cards

2009-12-23T09:17:00.000-08:00

I have been really lazy with the Christmas cards in the recent years. I used to be able to find time to write cards to all of my friends and their dogs, too. When I first started working as a teacher, I gave a card to each staff member, including the school custodian. This year, I sent NOTHING! NADA! ZERO! Not even to my bestest friends. Not even to family. Not even to my neighbours and I'm a few feet away from them. I feel so awful about it. I don't want to be the kind of person who writes cards only to those who have given me cards -- I would write cards to the people I care about, regardless of whether or not they have sent me one. But, apparently, I don't care about anybody this season.

I feel worse, knowing that some people do care about this tradition and care enough about me to write a card. I have received wonderful Christmas cards in the past and some of the notable ones are the personally-crafted kinds or photo cards or ones with personalized messages in them. My absolute favourites are the ones from kids / my students. Those cards carry sincere messages that come from their hearts, even when not much has been said. I want to share this one with you:

"To Chan From ____"

This Grade 7 student hates reading and he hates writing (only because he has such great difficulty with reading and writing, I believe). He couldn't even spell his name properly. But, he put in his best effort (I could tell by the size of his letters) for this card. When he gave me the card, he tossed it nonchalantly on the table toward me, but when I opened it in front of him, I could tell he was really proud that I was so happy to receive it.

Po-Po

2009-12-21T17:45:00.000-08:00

Since the earthquake in Hua-Lien, I wanted to be with my grandmother. She moved back to Taipei last month on the 20th -- it could be the last time I see her in Canada; she has lived in Vancouver for almost 25 years, coming and going every few months between Canada and Taiwan. My grandmother is a strong-spirited lady, but in the recent months I've seen a decline in her self-confidence. She gets scared and paranoid frequently, but the worse is when she talks about how she is so "useless" and weak. She used to be the one with a mischievous smile among her friends, but now she rarely smiles. A lot of people have told me that this is common among the elderly, but I still wonder what happened to that woman who has raised seven children on her own, seen the horrors of war as a nurse, steps on mice to terminate them, sits with her back straight as if a board has been attached to her spine, or learned to bear physical pain with dignity as she enters her state of zen.

Anyway, before my grandmother left, my sister, my two cousins, and I cam-hogged it with my grandmother.

A nice one for Po-Po.

We always have to have our awkward cousin photo.

When Po-Po found out we were all acting like a bunch of monkeys, we made it up to her with another nice and normal pose.

The "traditional" stone-faced, no-smile Chinese family portrait. (I think my sister's mouth twitched. Way to go, sis.)

MERRY CHRISTMAS, PO-PO!!!!!!! I love and miss you!

Only Caffeinated Tea for Me

2009-12-14T21:53:00.000-08:00

A couple of weekends ago, D and I shared a decaf orange pekoe tea bag because it was getting close to bedtime and D was afraid of staying up all night. We had decaf tea the next night.

Guess what?

I could barely sleep a wink both those nights. On the third night, as I reached into our cupboard for another tea, my hand hanging precariously over the box of decaf tea, a thought dawned on my sleep-deprived brain. What if the decaf was keeping me awake at night?

As an experiment, I drank caffeinated tea -- just one dunk, even though it was a two-cup tea bag, but just one dunk for the sake of the experiment -- that night.

Guess what?

I could sleep again!

Winner!

2009-11-22T21:44:00.000-08:00

The winner of the autographed BlueBeary book is Y. Wong!!!!!!!!!

Y, I will personally hand the book over to you and it might take a while, but definitely before Christmas!

Y blew the competition out of the water and encompassed all other entries into her list. There are just a couple more words that I could come up with that are not on the list, but who cares about those now that we have the winner! Here are the words that were formed by Y:

blue, bear, beer, leer, lure, year, be, are, bare, bar, lube, real, bale, la, bay, ray, lay, bee, bleary, rabble, rubble, bauble, blurb, blur, leery, yea, able, blab, lab, rub, lye, bye, rye, babe, baby, reel, barb, rule, Yule, ruble, rebel, rabe (as in broccoli rabe, a veggie), lee, bra, abbey, bury, layer, barely, ably, uber, beau, buy, buyer, brulee, ruby, rube, ebb, ale

BlueBeary says, "Congratulations, Y!"

When D is Away

2009-11-15T20:54:00.000-08:00

D goes on business / training trips a few times in a year, but thankfully he doesn't go too far. What I like about him going away:

1) I get to eat my comfort foods (e.g. Chef Boyardee, instant noodles). D cooks tasty and healthy food for me, so my comfort foods are like a treat, even though I know they're not great for me.

2) I get to dance. Our house has an open-concept layout, so there is plenty of space to dance in. I am too shy to "let loose" around my husband and I don't go clubbing anymore. In the past few weeks, I've been attending hip-hop practices led by one of my youth group girls (with the intention of presenting our routine to the church). I love it because not only do I get to hang out with my girls, but also I get to participate in one of my favourite activities.

3) I get to work late. I know this sounds like a weird one, but I admit that I'm a workaholic. Not needing to come home to eat supper with my husband (which I make a huge effort to do on most days) allows me to stay at work late and accomplish more tasks.

4) I get ready in the morning my way. I can turn up the radio while I get ready for work and I don't have to tiptoe around my sleeping husband. I get to use my ensuite, my closet, and my bedroom instead of the usual "get everything ready in the main bathroom so I don't wake up my husband" routine.

5) I can sleep sideways on the bed if I want to and I don't have to worry about elbowing him in the head or kneeing his stomach.

What I don't like about him being away:

1) The loneliness. It's so quiet around the house and even with the extra lights on, the house seems so empty. D is quiet anyway, but just knowing that he's nearby makes me feel at peace.

A Pittance of Time

2009-11-11T11:22:00.000-08:00

Based on a true experience (Terry Kelly).

Lest we forget. Thank you.

The Fun Theory

2009-11-09T20:46:00.000-08:00

I love the dual purpose of this fun theory and I'm amazed (and a little bit envious) at just how creative people can be.

Check out The Fun Theory for more videos.

BlueBeary

2009-10-31T21:25:00.000-07:00

BlueBeary is about a girl named Samantha who experiences exciting adventures with her stuffed toy, Beary. This book is the first of a series called Open Eyes where children discover themes of relationship and self-identity. BlueBeary is written by Kathleen McMillan and illustrated by Rebeckah Joy Plett, both natives of BC. I discovered this book through a friend of mine, CT, whose company Siretona Creative published BlueBeary. What I like about BlueBeary and looking forward to in the other books of the series is that it addresses the wonder children have about the world surrounding them and how children derive meaning from what they see and experience. From their observations come great discussions, which is facilitated through a section of the book called "Starting the Great Conversation."

Want a copy of this book for someone special this Christmas? I'm holding a simple contest and the winner gets BlueBeary, autographed by the author! Here's how you play:

Create as many words as you can from the letters of BlueBeary. Each word must be at least two letters long and cannot include names, abbreviations, and foreign words not used in the English language. E-mail me your list to treeygchan@hotmail.com or send me your list on Facebook. The longest list submitted wins! Contest ends on Sunday, November 22, 2009 at 6pm and don't worry -- when you win, you won't have to answer a skill-testing question. :)

My Weekend

2009-10-25T22:35:00.001-07:00

I was really looking forward to an evening of comedy with some co-workers on Saturday. It turned into a comedy of errors or, depending on how you look at it, a tragedy. Our plan was to catch a stand-up show in Vancouver and then head for the Shark Club. We were chauffeured by a driver there and back in a snazzy SUV limousine. Of course, booze was involved and therein lies the source of our troubles.

I believe I know my limit and since I was driving a couple of my co-workers home after our night out, I didn't want to drink much. A few people did not have the same limit and as a result, there were more than a few awkward moments. All is not a total loss, as I did have fun when there was fun to be had, but I don't think the night turned out as well as we all had imagined.

Later that night, after I dropped into bed after 2am, I dreamt that I was walking through an one-storey dilapidated house. The wooden floor was smothered in filth of broken toys, shredded paper, dirty clothes, shreds of drab cloth, shards of glass (from the broken windows), dust, dirt, and leaves. I felt very sad. According to my dream books, a dream that features a house that looks destroyed predicts anguish and depression; the books suggest that the personality or body of the dreamer is in search of better health. A low house is a sign that my work relations in my workplace are about to break down. (Hm...)

I woke up Sunday morning feeling lousy and not because of alcohol. I didn't know what to make of what I experienced with my co-workers last night. I felt deflated, frustrated, sad, and disappointed. I went to church in this mindset and God met me there.

Suddenly, my spirit was uplifted! The sermon was particularly meaningful. The pastor spoke from the book of Romans and how sin separated us from God, but how God has given us a way out through the redemption of His Son. We have all fallen short of the glory of God, but He has given us hope, forgiveness, and grace. I realize that I must learn humility because in spite of what my co-workers did, I am, in some ways, no better. I have done things that I am not proud of, but when I come before the Lord, I am forgiven. There's no hiding my sins, my shame, my guilt. The Lord's mercy and grace has set me free! This inexplicable joy has lifted me out of my slump. Even in my feeling of excitement, I get the urgency again to share the good news of God's love to those who need it and I wished that my co-workers could have received the same message as I got today. At the end of worship, one of our pastors announced the engagement of his son and soon-to-be daughter-in-law. They are such a cute couple and I feel tremendous happiness for the two of them; they are in my care group this year and I look forward to knowing them both better and support and encourage them in this new phase of their relationship. As a congregation, we sang Happy Day (Tim Hughes) and I couldn't help but raise my arms and sway to the music (I would've jumped up and down instead of hop, but I didn't want to accidentally smack the people beside me).

It felt so good to be with people who are happy and don't need alcohol or drugs to be that happy. This is the joy that only God can give and nothing in this earth can replace it.

Where The Wild Things Are

2009-10-17T14:28:00.001-07:00

** WARNING: some spoilers.

I just watched this movie last night (opening night) and still mulling over what I saw, so forgive me if this entry goes into too many directions.

The movie is adapted from a children's book of the same name, written by Maurice Sendak. Filming first started in 2005, but creative differences caused the release of the movie to be pushed back until now. At one point, Warner Bros. Studio, which released the movie, wanted Sendak to re-film the $75 million project because it wasn't as family-friendly as they expected, so Sendak was given more time to change it to satisfy himself and Warner Bros. After I saw the movie, I had a hard time thinking what it must've been like before Sendak changed it because if I had been a kid watching this, I think I would be scared.

I can identify three main themes of Where the Wild Things Are, although this movie is so unique, I wouldn't be surprised if others find other themes to be more dominant. The three I thought of are belonging, loneliness, and self-identity. Max, the bratty protagonist, makes revelations for all three of these themes, yet the movie doesn't quite resolve his issues with them. The monsters in Max's fantasy world represent various aspects of him, overtly displayed for him to address; he acknowledges each monster, although he deals with some better than others. This child's imagination knows little boundaries, casts aside logic, and throws caution into the wind.

Slowly, I grew to love this movie, yet it wasn't what I had expected. Definitely, this movie is an English teacher's delight because it was chock full of symbolism and imagery. I love how the movie was shot, literally, from a child's point of view. I worried that my husband would get motion-sickness because the camera moved with you as you jumped, ran, dodged, and slid. Most of the scenes were filmed as if you were the child and everything else was so much bigger than you. The movie had humour and satisfyingly brought a child's imagination to epic proportions. My favourite parts included Max and Carol howling together, which occurred twice in the movie and with different purposes each time.

What I did not expect, and can't figure out even at this point whether I'm ok with it or not, is the fact that the monsters are portrayed as depressed, self-pitying, angry, spiteful, and lonely. This is what holds me back from embracing this movie fully. I was interested in seeing how a plot could be formed from a picture book, but I was blind-sided by how each character was saturated with just one emotion and never quite developed out of it. I expected Max or Carol or KW to be changed by conflict, but they stayed as static as the other characters who had more minor roles, and to this end, I am a bit disappointed.

Overall, I am satisfied with this movie. Growing up for almost six years without a proper companion, three of those years hidden in an apartment because the superintendent didn't allow children to live in his building, I had to rely on my imagination to stay entertained. My parents worked as custodians who worked the graveyard shift in various buildings in downtown Vancouver and strip malls in Richmond and I had to tag along. Some nights, I pretended to be in jail, hiding among boxes of supplies, and plotting my escape plan. Other nights, I was a movie star, a rock star, an astronaut, a spy dog, or a beauty pageant queen. While other children fell asleep to the voices of their parents reading a bedtime story, I fell asleep on waiting room couches to the sound of the industrial vacuum cleaner. I'm not sure how and when Where the Wild Things Are landed in my lap, but I couldn't put the book down and I memorized each picture; I created tableaux of the pictures with my dolls and I, of course, was Max, except instead of a cat costume, I had my hooded blanket that I used to get married in. This movie awakened in me the lonely, yet highly imaginative, child within -- I bet I was the only person crying in the theatre that night.

Proud Auntie!

2009-10-05T21:56:00.000-07:00

I wish I were there to be with my sister-in-law, her husband, and their baby, Teagan, the last time my husband went to visit them in TO just a week ago. Here's what I missed:

"Uncle D may not like flying, but I do! WHEEEEE!!!!"

"Take that! That's for not bringing Auntie Tree with you!"

"I love Mr. Star! Thanks, Mommy and Daddy!"

"No Kids"

2009-09-28T21:16:00.001-07:00

Recently, a few people have talked to me about their reasons for not having kids and when I tell them that I'm one of the many who decided to not have children, we begin to bond and validate each other's desire to be "child-free."

Manitoba Agriculture (don't ask) published a research report indicating that the cost of raising a child from age 0-18 is about $193,000 in Canada. This amount does not include piano lessons, private montessori schools, or hockey practice. And I thought my bills now were big.

A (child-free) friend of mine gave me an article to read in Macleans Magazine called "The Case Against Having Kids." Although, I agree with almost every reason it gave for not having kids, I found the article to be very anti-parent. I am not anti-parent; I have nothing against people who find so much joy in their children and are able to take care of them. I am upset that just because my husband and I chose not to have children that people automatically assume either that we have physical problems that prevent us from having children or that we hate kids (hence the "child-free" as opposed to "child-less"). Someone, whom I care about a lot, claimed that we were being selfish (that hurt) for not wanting to have kids and even went as far as to say something like "God created us to procreate and populate the earth and fill it with joy." What is so hard for others to comprehend that not having kids is not a bad thing?

I really thought long and hard about having or not having children. Up until two years ago, I said the complete opposite. But, now, my husband and I find life fulfilling and I don't think we would regret the choice of not having kids. Besides, we are surrounded by incredibly lovable children in our lives. My god-daughter is simply delightful and I love to hold her and love her and just watch her eat. My husband's nephew is a wonderful newborn, so full of character and spirit already. I can't wait until the next time I can be with him again and watch him make the funniest faces. I enjoy reading my friends' blog about their son tremendously. LW is the same age as my nephew and he is so adorable, even though I have never seen this little guy in person. There are several babies and kids at church who light up my heart, too. So, yes, I love kids. But, no, I do not want one of my own.

Meet Joe Wong

2009-09-25T18:26:00.001-07:00

Was this who Russell Peters was envisioning?

Grave of the Fireflies (Hotaru no haka)

2009-09-20T20:50:00.000-07:00

I first learned about this movie while surfing a car enthusiast site a couple of years ago. In the Lounge forum, where members could talk about other things besides cars, one person asked what the saddest movie others have watched are. When Grave of the Fireflies was first mentioned, scores of other "burly" and "macho" guys wrote in to the thread to say how they all bawled their eyes out at the movie. So many people thought the movie was the saddest movie ever made.

Recently, my sister's boyfriend also attested to how he thought Grave of the Fireflies was the saddest movie ever. His testimony piqued my interest further, so the next night, my husband and I sat in front of the computer and watched this 89-minute movie.

Now, I'm not saying that this movie isn't tragic. Indeed, it was sad, especially since it involved the story of two young children, a brother and sister, in wartime Japan. Being a teacher and a person who absolutely adores children, as well as being someone who takes many things to heart, I was very surprised that I didn't cry at this movie. I think maybe it's because I already knew the story (I was afraid that the movie was going to be so depressing, I read a synopsis first to prepare myself) and my expectation for it to be sad was so high, that I ended up not feeling as sad as I thought I could be. I almost didn't cry, except my husband said out loud at one part, "I bet this is when everyone in the audience cries" and then it hit me that this was a very tragic story.

What makes this story ultimately tragic for me was the fact that it was based on a true story. Akiyuki Nosaka wrote Grave of the Fireflies in 1967 to come to terms with what he faced during WWII.

Don't take my word on this. You should see it for yourself and then let me know if my heart is made of stone.

Dream Interpretations

2009-09-13T21:33:00.000-07:00

I have always been interested in what my dreams say about me. I've had a few recurring dreams, many dreams about work, some sad dreams, and a number of nightmares. I even had a dream that continued from my friend's dream; when I went to tell her about a dream I had the next day, we discovered that we both had the same dream, except the people we dreamed about entered in the daytime in her dream and in my dream, the people exited at night. I don't think I get prophetic dreams, but I know I have dreams that speak a lot about how I view God. In one dream, people were jumping off a building that I was in and I would look out the window and watch them fall one by one, all the while, shouting at God, "Help us! Save this world from killing themselves!" A few weeks later, 9/11 happened.

Psychologists and astrologists believe that dreams send a message about our subconscious. Often, our dreams are mundane and reflect what we did or saw that day. Every now and then, however, our dreams pick up something in our brains that do not seem to affect us on a conscious level. I won't go into the history of dream interpretation here, but while most people would regard Sigmund Freud as the most recent modern expert on dreams and interpretation, I tend to lean toward Carl Jung who believe that dreams reveal our deep yearnings and help us to realize our ambitions in order to fulfill them.

I have two dream books that I consult, especially when I get a dream as vivid as the one I had the night before. One is called "Parker's Complete Book of Dreams" by Julia and Derek Parker and the second one is called "The Encyclopedia of Dream Interpretation" by Eili Goldberg. These books do not necessarily interpret the dream for me (no one is as good as Daniel), but they do provide suggestions on the symbolic meanings of objects and colours that I see in my dreams and guide me to make my own interpretation. As interested as I am in dreams, I take all of the suggested symbols with a grain of salt. Sometimes, a dream is just a dream.

But, for curiosity's sake, I'll try to interpret my latest dream. Would you like to help me?

Elevator = What is its function? Am I the elevator? Do I feel like I'm being pulled in many directions at once? An ascending elevator hints at success while a descending elevator suggests disappointment. I'm not sure how to interpret the way I traveled upside-down in an ascending elevator, though.

Glass = In my dream, the elevator was made of glass. If I were the elevator, what does the glass mean? It was very clear in my dream, so perhaps it's suggesting that I've reached some sort of clarity about something in my waking life, or perhaps, I need to make something clearer.

Gate = Alludes to security. What am I keeping in or keeping out? Did the Oriental ornaments on the gate mean something? The gate in my dream was more like an archway, which signifies opportunity. Traveling through the gate signifies surprising news, but would the news be good or bad?

Guard = I may be advised that something or someone needs protection. The guards in my dream allowed us through, but one motioned for us to pull over. Since D did not stop for them, I do not know if the guard was going to warn us or hurt us. This suggests that I need to be cautious in my waking life.

Car = A dream about cars traveling along a winding road serves as a warning sign to not take unnecessary risks and that I am looking for a way out. When women dream of cars, there seems to be a reference to ambition or assertion. What does my husband's car and the police car mean?

Police officer = Similar to "guard" in that they don't always represent authority, but rather behaviour to establish oneself. In my dream, I was having conflict with the police officer, which is a sign that I am feeling guilt in my waking life, but the fact that the police officer was female suggests to me that I am either already asserting myself or I need to do so in my waking life.

Gun = If an enemy is holding a gun, the dream hints that I have lost control, that perhaps, I am suffering from great worry and anxiety. An attack, especially when a weapon is used, often has sexual undertones. Although a car is also considered a phallic symbol, a weapon suggests sexual insecurity.

Put all these things together and I get....

Dream

2009-09-12T09:47:00.000-07:00

The gossamer traces of sleep ebbed away as my whimpers and tears took hold of my senses. My husband got out of bed and gave me a tissue. Then, he held me tightly, closely and said, "It's just a dream, baby. It's only a dream."

With D by my side, I walk through the bland brown hospital lobby toward the glass elevators ("It even has glass doors") to visit a friend who just had a baby. Already waiting in front of the elevators is my friend's husband and their toddler. We give our congrats and some small talk and eventually, the elevator doors open and our troupe walk in. D presses the #3, but the displayed shows a 3, an upside-down 7, and a 1. The doors close and the elevator moves up quickly to the third floor. We arrive at the third floor, but to our surprise, the doors do not open; instead, the elevator flips upside down and moves up to the seventh floor without stopping. We grab on to the metal handlebars to avoid falling; I press the toddler between myself and the wall to keep him safe and I can feel his breath against my neck. Then, when we arrive at the seventh floor, the elevator flips again and we move one floor up. When the elevator finally stops, D and my friend's husband move toward the doors to pry them open. I am glad that D is safe because I know he doesn't like heights.

... Like most dreams, the next moments are a blur.

D and I are in the hospital parking lot walking toward his silver RSX. As we climb into his car, he says, "This is turning out to be such a bad day." He drives out onto a narrow street bedded on cobblestones. Tall dark buildings line up along both sides of the street. We turn a curve and see a huge gate decorated with lavish Oriental ornaments. Guards at the entrance are dark-skinned and seem to be of South-East Asian descent. They move aside to let us pass, but one guard motions for D to pull-over to the side of the road; it appears to be a routine road check. D turns his wheel slightly to the right and then takes off down the road, bumping the car against the cobblestones like a pebble rolling down a washboard.

"I think that guy told you to pull over."
"Forget it. It's such a bad day."

I turn around to see the guards running after us, but the road winds around and I lose sight of them. The road widens and we approach a busy intersection that has five roads meeting at its centre. Already stopped there was a police cruiser. D stops behind it. All of a sudden, the cruiser turns sideways to block us from leaving. A burly woman in uniform steps out of the car with a loudspeaker and says something to the crowd of people who have begun to gather around and look at us. She turns us into an example of what would happen to people who didn't follow rules and she glares down at us with her brown eyes.

Somehow she lets us go and we are driving away. D pulls into a back alley parking lot and sighs. He opens his driver's side door, but before he steps out, he turns to me says, "I can't wait for this day to be over."

A long-haired man behind the car catches my attention. He is holding a tan leather bag and as he passes in front of the rear left window, he pulls out a revolver. I shout for D to come back inside the car, "Get in, get in, GET IN" but it is too late for the man is already standing in front of D and pointing his gun at him. I pull D close to me and I shelter his head with my arms against my chest. "At least, he won't shoot you in the head and if he tries he will have to go through my arms," I think to myself, just as the man pulls the trigger and hits D in the the abdomen area. Then, he points the gun at me and hesitates before fleeing.

I frantically try to dial 9-1-1 on my cell phone, but I keep pressing the wrong buttons and the screen keeps showing me a map of somewhere. I try to find where I could put my hand over D's bleeding wound to stop the blood from flowing, but he grabs my wrist and says, "It's ok."

The dream ended and D is alive.

New Stuff

2009-09-10T16:21:00.000-07:00

This September has started with some new changes for me.

1) I work at a different middle school from the one I was at for the last two years. I'm still in the same position -- Learning Support Services -- except I'm concentrating on just Grade 7s, whereas before I was servicing International Students, students with autism, and students with cerebral palsy across all three grade levels. My caseload this year includes one visually impaired student and the rest are mainly students with learning disabilities, moderate and mild intellectual disorders, and chronic health. Our entire LSS staff is new, but we each bring various levels of experience and knowledge, so I'm confident in the strength of our team.

2) I'm starting my second year serving youth group at church. This year, we've called ourselves SOAR for "Sold Out and Radical." The direction we want to take is going to be more God-centred; the focus had always been on God, but now we want to challenge students to take a dive into really making a serious commitment to growing in Christ in their every day lives, rather than just skimming the surface of God's character. Last year we had a number of students who invited a big number of their friends and just hung out at youth, but most without caring for the youth group's main purposes. The leaders still enjoyed being with these teens because of who they are individually, but because a lot of these students were just there for the sake of being out of the house, we had to deal with a lot of discipline issues. As a leadership team, we struggled with the notion of "weeding" out kids by changing the focus of our program, but we hope that with God's blessing, we are able to provide a safe environment of in-depth and life-changing experience to the youth. Because there are a few other youth groups in Mission, and some of our youth attend those other youth groups as well (one group is as big as over 100 students), we want to encourage them to continue going to those ones.

3) On the Sunday of Labour Day weekend, my sister and I went to PNE. This is the first time I've been to PNE with D and the first time we double-dated with my sister! I promised not to grill her boyfriend too much, but I'm glad that he's just such a friendly and social guy anyway that I wouldn't have to turn up the interrogation quite as much as I have on her previous boyfriends (and my husband). He also scored some brownie points when he won a doll for her. In the game where he won this, he had to shoot a whiffle ball at a stack of plastic cups completely off the stand; he won on his second attempt. It was quite heavy, but he lugged it around in the rain anyway. If he charged $10 for every question and comment that he received about the cow, he would have over $100. I won a stuffed toy for myself, winning in the Whack-A-Mole game. It's my favourite game along with the horse-racing game, which my sister won this year; she got a stuffed bear with underwear over his head.

Together We'll Make It Through

2009-09-02T20:37:00.000-07:00

Recently, I heard Baz Luhrmann's Everybody's Free (To Wear Sunscreen) and, for some reason, one part of the song reminded me of my husband and his twin sister.

What is the matter with your husband?
A couple of weeks ago, my husband experienced some sharp pain in his chest, but it went away after about 30 minutes. Two days ago, he felt pain again in his chest, which lasted for over forty minutes that time. As soon as I was ready to go to the hospital with him, the pain subsided. The next day, the doctor told my husband to get a blood test and an electrocardiogram from which we will know the results in about a week as to why my husband has been experiencing this kind of pain. I haven't been sleeping well since the second time he felt chest pain. If I feel him shifting in bed, I wake up to see if he was in pain. If I haven't been feeling him shift in bed, I wake up to see if he's still breathing.

Where does his sister fit into this?
My sister-in-law experienced some complications during the birth of her son in late April. Her son is fine, thankfully, but she has been feeling mild to extreme pain every day for the last four months. Every day, my husband and I pray for her and sometimes I wonder what God is trying to tell us about her ordeal. We went to visit her in Toronto in early July and my husband will see her again in late September. For these past few months, my husband has worried about his sister and I think his anxiety has manifested into a physical ailment (because my stress manifests itself in the form of stomach pains, so I wonder if the same is happening with my husband).

What does the song have anything to do with this?
Not much actually. I like this song because I found the lyrics amusing, yet pragmatic. When this song came on my iTunes, I listened intently to the lyrics. About three minutes into the song, this is what I heard:

Brother and Sister, together we'll make it through
Someday a spirit will take you and guide you there
I know that you're hurting, but I've been waiting to be there for you
And I'll be there just helping you out
Whenever I can...

Suddenly, I wept, quietly ... for my sister-in-law, for my husband, and because of the immense pain that they are both feeling, both physically and emotionally. I pray for strength and restoration of their spirits and health. Please pray with me. Please.

All-Day Kindergarten

2009-08-26T21:54:00.000-07:00

I came across this interesting news article today, but what spiked my interest were the 18 pages worth of comments. The most heated arguments centred around the quality of child care, home-schooling versus public schooling, and how parents should parent.

There were differing opinions on the quality of daycare and public/private schools. I agreed 100% with one reader (a parent who stays at home with young kids) who said that the quality of education that daycares or kindergarten classes provide depends on the philosophy on which the education was formed and delivered. I've seen daycare workers who sit in lawn chairs and read magazines or chatting with each other while "supervising" kids. I have also seen daycare workers who work extremely hard in a structured setting, ensuring safety and education for the kids. The same could be said for some teachers, and for that matter, parents.

Many responses come from parents who home-school their children. I do not have a problem with parents who homeschool their children, but I will when some of those parents call other parents who send their kids to daycare selfish. My husband and I have discussed schooling for our kids, even before we discussed if we were going to have any kids at all. My husband could support the three of us, but it would be tight. Plus, I do enjoy my career and I would go back to work even if I had a kid -- that does not mean that I love my child less than the parent who stays home to be with his/her kids. I have taught students who have been home-schooled for more than ten years of their lives and they absolutely floundered in school (private and public, I've seen both). I have also worked with children who have been home-schooled almost all their lives (up to age 17) and they are completely capable individuals. Again, it goes back to the structure surrounding the education of the child. One response went as far as to say, "...working parents make the choice to work because of their desire to 'get ahead'." Um....what? A lot of people I know who are parents go back to work because they HAVE to, not because they want to be first in the rat race. Like I said, my husband and I could live off of one income, and we don't do too badly comparatively, but it would be tight and we are not the type of people who live from paycheque to paycheque. I cannot speak for other people, but I do NOT go back to my job just to get ahead of the game. I'm not even sure how to do that as a teacher (and not considering becoming an administrator, either); if I go back to work, it wouldn't be because I'm ambitious.

Some others have also argued that 5-year-olds cannot handle all-day kindergarten. Perhaps, they have other reasons behind this statement. Again, playing Devil's Advocate, I would like to point out that research has shown that "by age three, children's brains are twice as active as those of adults" (Shore, R. Rethinking the Brain). Follow any two- or three-year-old around and you'll be amazed at how articulate and complex they really are. A group of linguists and psychologists of Harvard University did a study in the early 1980s and in one particular case where 122 transcripts were recorded of a two-year-old talking to herself after her parents put her to bed, they found that toddlers' "prattle" is significantly more advanced than thought by adults (Nelson, K. Narratives from the Crib). If enough engaging activities are balanced with downtime, then I believe 5-year-olds are more than capable of handling all-day kindergarten.

What is also distressing me while reading these comments ("then stop reading them" my inner voice says), are people who aim to direct others how to parent. No two families are exactly alike; there may be groups of parents who have similar parenting styles. So many comments are generalized and some are even extreme. I'm ok with people who post comments based on their own experience, but comments like "this policy just encourages more single-parent families and separates kids from families" or "parents are denying themselves the nurturing responsibilities they are entitled to as the creator of a life in favour of the states [sic] indoctrination" make me chuckle in a humourless way. On that note, my blog entry today is a discussion, but it is not meant to condemn anyone.

As with everything else, there are exceptions and factors that contribute to the success of a particular event, in this case, a child's education in private and public child care. This news article certainly generated a heated debate, but it is, after all, an age-old debate. I welcome discussion until comments become scathing remarks toward persons of different beliefs. I may be impartial, but I do believe that the government is going in the right direction with funding all-day kindergarten, helping to ensure a solid educational foundation for our children.

Not Many of Us Out Here

2009-08-24T15:32:00.000-07:00

Recently, I had my sister and nine of her friends stay at my house for one weekend. My husband and I got to hang out with them for dinner one night before they went back to Vancouver and I realized then just how much I crave Chinese-ness out here in Mission. They were speaking in Chinese (not all the time) and making Chinese references. Finally, people who know what I mean when I say "yeet hay!"

Here in Mission, there are scarcely any Chinese people, although there are a few more Koreans. The Chinese food in Mission is westernized (what is kum pao and chop suey?) and sorely lacking variety. Apparently another Chan Clan who also happen to be teachers lurk in Mission/Abbotsford somewhere. In fact, I just transferred to a new school where the former vice-principal there was just transferred to another school and he was a Chan! The school that I worked at had a very small representation of East Asians ranging from Korean to Vietnamese. Only one other staff member was a visible minority and she and I often swapped Asian jokes and statements with each other (she is Indo-Canadian). She understands as much as I do the limited representation of the Asian culture in Abby-Mission. In one instance, another co-worker claimed that the best butter chicken she has ever tasted comes from M&M Meat Shop. My Indo-Canadian friend just about flipped! We all laughed about it, but my brown friend still shakes her head over it.

It's not that I don't like non-Chinese people; far from it, in fact, since both D and I grew up in friendship circles of mixed ethnicity (D was definitely a minority in his group of friends). Somehow, though, I just feel comfortable with people who culturally understand me. I miss having Chinese friends with similar lifestyles to hang out with.

I talked to my sister about this complaint of mine and she suggested that I move to Richmond. There are TOO many Chinese people living there and they're not the CBC kind like D and I are. My sister said, "Well, now you're just being finicky."

Hula Hoop Baby

2009-08-22T19:14:00.001-07:00

Saw this on the Regis and Kelly show, when I checked it out to see Tamara Taggart filling in for Kelly:

Cruise to Alaska

2009-08-18T13:54:00.000-07:00

Welcome aboard NCL's Norwegian Sun!

This is the second time I've been to Alaska. On my first cruise there, I rode on Royal Caribbean's Serenade of the Seas. That was when D proposed to me. We celebrate our second year anniversary today. :) Because I've already been to Alaska, I did not go on any excursions and didn't take as many photos as I did the first time, but the following are snippets of some highlights.

Ketchikan aka tourist galore. I stand in front of Creek Street, which is a little more touristy and interesting than the "downtown" souvenir shopping district.

While in Ketchikan, I did something that I have never done before. I paid over $100 for a piece of jewelry. Here I am, sitting in one of the bars/lounges on the ship, sporting my new Omega necklace, reversible (yellow gold on one side/white gold on the other) and came with a Northern Lights pendant.

Nothing to see in Juneau. Really...nothing.

Skagway is a quaint little town that is "busy" about four-six months of the year. In the off season, it houses less than 1000 residents.

While resting at a Skagway train station, I saw a stuffed bear that I was sure was shorter than I. What do you think?

We traveled down Tracy Arm Fjord to see Sawyer Glacier. I loved being close enough to the mountains to see the striations left behind by glaciers from centuries ago. The views were beautiful, especially around the areas where ice met with lush greenery.

We couldn't get close to the glacier because of the icebergs floating around and the potential damage they could cause the ship. A few folks, mainly the ones who could afford it, got to hop in a boat and maneuver around the icebergs to see the glacier up close.

On the cruise, there were lots of great shows and parties to attend, plus cruisers could participate in some casual activities like Name that Tune, a treasure hunt, or animal-making towel classes in the afternoons.

FOOD, FOOD, AND MORE FOOD! A few of my faves: Smoked Salmon Salad, Tuna Tartare, Lobster Night, and the Chocoholic Buffet.

Ssssssee you later!

Kabluey

2009-08-05T18:29:00.000-07:00

Kabluey is a movie about a man who goes to help his sister-in-law take care of her two sons and in the meantime gets a job as a corporate mascot. Doesn't sound like much, but the movie's offbeat humour (think Lars and the Real Girl or Run, Fatboy, Run) is derived from the characters' extreme personalities.

Salman, played by Scott Prendergast who is also the director of this film, is the brother-in-law who was enlisted only as a desperate last measure to babysit two homicidal nephews. When he takes on the job as a mascot for a failing dot-com company, Salman slowly discovers that he can be a hero, albeit in a blue costume.

Actresses Lisa Kudrow and Conchata Ferrell play their respective roles fantastically. Kudrow portrays a despondent woman, a far cry from her Phoebe days, while Ferrell throws out curses and anger like nobody's business in a bizarre, but often funny, way.

I love how Kabluey shows the sad reality of the hero's life, but without the melodrama. At only 68 minutes long, the film is able to capture the quirky ways people relate to one another, as well as how they deal with their present situation with what resources they have. Although there is no overt political agenda to this film, it does put a spin on economic tension, which underlies some of the characters' motives. My favourite movies are usually ones that are character-driven, have plot lines that don't require a lot of fanfare and explosions, and contain witty dialogue that only English teachers and the linguistically-inclined can appreciate with a hearty laugh. Kabluey did not disappoint.

My Week in Vancouver

2009-08-03T21:15:00.000-07:00

I love being with family and friends. I regret not taking any photos (except when I went to see my god-daughter), so I apologize to my readers.

From Sunday (night) to Tuesday, I hung out with my parents and sister. I love being able to just sit around and shoot the breeze, although there wasn't much of a breeze to speak of -- it was so hot!

On Wednesday, I celebrated my god-daughter's one-year-old birthday at her house. She is able to say a few words now and crawl really fast around the house. She is so smart -- when she knows she is down to her final Cheerio or blueberry, she savours the last one instead of just popping in the last morsel. Here she is playing in the kiddie pool (sorry, but I didn't know how to turn my video the right side up).

On Thursday, I had dinner with my friend, W, at Brown's in Yaletown and then we walked down Marinaside Crescent and stopped to chat while watching Dragon Boat teams practice along Stamp's Landing. Finally, we went to Kino Cafe on Cambie to drink chilled sangria and enjoyed the flamenco performances. I haven't seen this friend since my wedding two years ago and we haven't been able to hang out since we were in high school. She's been a very good friend of mine since primary school. Thank goodness for Facebook!

On the Friday before heading home, I was able to catch up with another old-time friend, M, who was my bridesmaid at my wedding. Like W, I haven't seen M since my wedding either. Why do Vancouverites think Mission is so far?!? M and I had lunch at Ichiro in Steveston before grabbing some frozen yogurt at Timothy's and strolling around Steveston.

Starting on Friday evening and ending around Sunday evening, my sister and nine other people stayed at my house for the long weekend. Ai yah! It was really nice meeting my sister's friends as they are all so friendly and fun-loving, but I'm not sure my husband and I would do something like that again. Our house looked like a hostel with all the sleeping bags, luggage, snacky foods, and blow-up mattresses lying all over the place. All in all, they were great company to have.

A Worthwhile Sweatshop

2009-07-28T20:33:00.000-07:00

Ok, not really a sweatshop, but there were a lot of sweat and tears while making the T-shirts for VBS.

Last week, I directed (with co-director A. Salmon) an evening Vacation Bible School and I simply loved it. I love how the kids get so excited over things adults forget can be so exciting...like getting Bibles...or making crafts...or playing games...or having juice...or getting to wear the same T-shirts the volunteers wear. Ok, maybe not all adults like that last one.

Every year (which is only two for me) that I managed VBS, I always get at least one child who wanted to be the next VBS helper. When it is so hard to find volunteers to help at VBS, I get children who can't wait. Usually, when I ask for help, most reply, "What do I have to do?" At VBS, before I even have to ask, the kids shoot their hands up in the air and wave their arms like their life depended on the highest and fastest wave and they ask, "What do I get to do?"

And God answers prayers. When I asked for more helpers, God gave me five more people that same day. When I needed more time, God gave me an extra fifteen minutes. When I needed more T-shirts, Michaels stocked up the day after I prayed. When I needed more T-shirt transfers, God lead me to my box where I had forgotten that I brought fifteen transfers to showcase at the Volunteers' Training Session. When I needed help with crafts, God gave me a young girl who offered to help (she offered to help in three different areas, bless her heart, but I couldn't pull her in too many directions).

I hope to direct VBS again next year. I've been taking notes every day after each VBS session and I hope to make VBS even better. I'm incredibly grateful for the team that worked with me to make VBS a success.

In the end, the "sweatshop" was all worth it.

What Does This Mean?

2009-07-19T21:36:00.000-07:00

Frank Ogden said, "There is a bulldozer of change coming. You can be part of the bulldozer or part of the road."

More About Teagan

2009-07-08T15:01:00.000-07:00

D, D's dad, and I just returned home last night after visiting my sister-in-law in Toronto for one week. I used to be a pretty good traveler, but in the recent years have grown to hate riding in airplanes. On our trip back we met with some bad turbulence that lasted approximately 30 minutes. I started to whimper involuntarily and gripped the arm rests so hard, my husband and I had to pry my fingers loose later. My husband, who is not afraid of the turbulence, gets sick from them, so a half hour of bronco-riding in the sky made him a little queasy, but it's a good thing he didn't actually hurl. After we landed, we were welcomed by the news of the airline losing both of my husband's and father-in-law's luggage. Thankfully, the suitcases were eventually delivered to our house by midnight, which is pretty good because I've heard some horror stories of other people's luggage go missing and never to be seen again. Throughout the week, we've had some rough sleep (nothing compared to a new parent's sleep, however) due to construction that commenced at 7am, a fall in the bathtub, snoring symphonies, and a 3am fist fight right outside our hotel. Life is always interesting.

But, all of these little inconveniences were worth the trip. We got to see Teagan!

We went to Toronto for a variety of reasons, but the main one was to see our 11-week-old nephew, Teagan. In our short time there, we learned lots already about Teagan and discovered that he has many talents and hobbies on which he spends a lot of his time.

We've learned that he likes to sing. He practices his vocal cords quite often.

He is starting to sample a buffet. Here he is trying to scarf down a polar bear (but I'm sure he still prefers his mother's milk).

During his sleep, he exercises his jaws (for his singing later, of course)...

...performs Tai Chi in his sleep...

...and contorts his body in various positions. He calls this one the "One-Finger Grab While Almost Falling Off the Couch" position. Cirque-du-Soleil, here he comes!

Perhaps, Teagan's favourite pasttime is pondering life's mysteries.

He ponders a lot.

I mean, A LOT. And all the time. I'm worried that he's going to furrow his brows so much, he'll give himself a unibrow.

Here is one of the many times I got to hold Teagan. I never like to put him down, but I can't be selfish, especially when Grandma wants to hold him.

In this picture, Teagan is probably chuckling over the fact that he has more hair than his uncle. My husband held and played with Teagan this past week more than he has ever been with all the kids he knows in the world in his entire lifetime. I've never seen him more comfortable with a baby, but D says Teagan is different.

Teagan is a cutie-patootie and I can't wait to see him again.

Update from May 13th Post

2009-06-28T21:04:00.000-07:00

On May 13th, I was at the end of my rope. I had nowhere to turn, but to God and in my moment of utmost weakness, my heart refused what my brain was trying to tell it.

Well, here's the update.

The boy who got cornered is going to a secondary school where his bullies are going, as well. But, the administrators were informed of the perpetrators and I can only do so much without following the student to his new school.

Up to twelve students were suspended in the attack that occurred in the middle of the field -- the same field the BC Lions trained just this past month.

The girl is back and we got a chance to chat, not about what happened, but the other things, good and bad, that were happening in her life. She healed and is moving on. Praise God. Here's hoping that the other student who hurt her learned his lesson.

The pains have stopped, but I get these pains every so often and they come in waves. So, they may have stopped for now, but we'll see if I get them again.

My partner in crime (former partner, come September) at youth group is healing very, very slowly, but she's back at work and is as feisty as ever, bless her heart.

The girl who fainted is better. Her home life is still rotten, but she has shared her testimony with the rest of youth group and says that despite what she has to live with, she doesn't feel lonely and she feels safe at church.

As for the last incident where one student insulted another student, a youth leader and I attempted a restorative justice/action session with the two youths and we believe that it went well. They still make mistakes, but at least they both got a chance to hear what the other person meant and both got the opportunity to apologize to each other.

E, thank you for your comments and introducing me to Jibril's tormented pleas. I can think back to when I have felt the same as he did. Here is where I stand. God hears my cries, indeed. I trust in Him, although it's not always easy, but I know He follows through. In 2 Peter 3:9, it says, "The Lord is not slow in keeping His promise, as some understand slowness. He is patient with you, not wanting anyone to perish, but everyone to come to repentance."

Currently, I am praying to God for healing in my family. Both my sister-in-law and father-in-law are going through some health issues and I am anxious, yet wanting to be patient, for the Lord to answer my prayers. If I had kept a prayer journal over the past thirty years, I would see how the Lord has answered all of my prayers, mostly in ways that I did not expect.

My Nephew!!!!!!!

2009-06-24T21:02:00.000-07:00

Hey there, good-looking! My name is Teagan and I’m Tree’s nephew-in-law.

When I first came into this world, I was like, “Huh? This world isn’t much to look at.”

Then I realized that I was a bit more unique than some others…

…kind of like Wolverine. Well, not quite.

When I finally opened my eyes...

…and took a look-see…

…I didn’t like what I saw.

Good thing, then, that my mommy is nearby. I’m so overjoyed that I can hardly contain my laugh. Tee hee!

She reads to me to keep me educated.

She adores me and I adore her.

My daddy cuddles me everywhere…

…even when we’re sleeping.

Last, but not least, I have a sidekick who doubles as a best friend! How cool is that?

Marshi likes to just hang out with me.

Sometimes, we have sleep-overs.

Most of the time, we just chill out.

Speaking of chilling out, I’m going to check out to Dreamland. Later, gator!

Take Me Out to the Ball Game

2009-06-13T19:14:00.000-07:00

For our Youth Group end-of-the-year activity, we played softball -- parents/leaders vs. students. I think the last time I played softball was in Grade 11 for PE, so my skills were certainly lacking. However, out of the ten-plus times I batted, I only had two strikes, one pop-fly, and the rest were fairly good hits. Plus, I was in right outfield, so I didn't get too much action with so many right-hand batters out there. I wish I had photos to share, but I had so much fun, I didn't think to take any or ask anyone else to take pictures.

At the ball game and the BBQ that followed, I got a chance to talk to some of the youths' parents. Unfortunately, none of the parents of my senior youth girls were there, but I was able to chat and say some nice things to a few parents about their kids. One kid, B, was a little goofy, but has a wonderful sense of humour, has a kind heart, is very friendly, and has shown leadership qualities. B had the ability to pick up new skills and concepts easily; for instance, he has practiced piano for about a year and can now play many contemporary songs easily. Another boy, J, appears very quiet and calm, but J showed good independent thinking skills and does not give in to peer pressure easily. Plus, he was great at sports. Finally, M and C, older brother and younger sister, whose family opened their beautiful house (more like a mansion with a ginormous yard that spaciously fits a pool, basketball court, trampoline, fire pit, and two donkeys) for the BBQ, show a lot of potential for leadership in the church, both in very different ways. M presents a tough-guy, but charismatic personality and is a little skeptical about Christianity, but every so often will show interest in certain kinds of worship and contemplates certain theological questions; on the flip side, C is a very shy, friendly, and obedient young girl, but is learning to strengthen her trust in Christ.

At one point in the evening, one of my senior girls who is graduating this summer reluctantly pointed out that this is her last youth group night. I told her that it is actually the beginning of a relationship with the church and God for her. She would be joining a College & Career group in the fall and she would learn so much more and still have lots of fun. Of course, we would miss her presence in senior youth and she will miss us for a bit, too, but I know God has great plans for her and I'm excited to see her grow. She hasn't been with the youth group for very long and does not come from a Christian family, but she has asked so many great questions during discussion and her own responses show understanding of the faith. I was very happy when she (among a dozen others) stood up to take a vow of purity during a unit we had on sexual purity. To this day, she still wears the purity ring to show her commitment to save herself for marriage, which is really refreshing to see when so many other teenagers have already given up their virginity by age 18.

I'm a bit sad to see youth group nights end, but I will try to keep in touch with my girls throughout the summer. We have already made plans to cook together and go to Playland together. I thank God for where he has placed me and my girls.

Mango Madness

2009-06-02T19:41:00.001-07:00

I ate a stringy mango today. As I ate from the seed, I started laughing because I told my husband that I was eating a muppet.

Zoe's head is a perfect replica of my mango (except for the eyes).

Body of Christ

2009-05-19T22:27:00.000-07:00

Last Friday, I developed a soft blister on my right middle finger from sharpening pencils with an old-school manual pencil sharpener. On Saturday, as I mopped the laminate floor in my house, my blister peeled and I was left with a large pink sore on my finger. It's Tuesday now and my blister had only just begun to heal. Between last Friday and today, however, I was surprised at how often I use that part of my finger and tiny sharp pain shoots up to my brain to remind me that I have to be careful. I've been treating that sore quite gingerly and making sure that I didn't use that finger too often. I even put a bandage over it, but it still felt tender.

Somehow, this experience reminded me that in the Body of Christ, no one should be taken for granted as every part has an important role to play and if there was a defect somewhere, it would surely be noticed.

Romans 12:4-6 (New International Version)

⁴Just as each of us has one body with many members, and these members do not all have the same function, ⁵so in Christ we who are many form one body, and each member belongs to all the others.

This reminder couldn't have come at a better time. Tomorrow, I will attempt my skills at restorative action/restorative justice for my first formal mediation. As a teacher, I have used such skills many times, but I'm a little nervous tomorrow because my relationship with the two teens involved is still new. There was a verbal altercation between two individuals at youth group last week and one of the other youth group leaders and I dealt with it immediately. Tomorrow, the two teens agreed to meet at church at 6:30pm, so that we could talk it out. I asked my two RA/RJ mentors to give me a few beginners' tips and they knew I have been studying my notes on mediation. Even though I have a piece of paper to say I'm a certified RA/RJ expert, I'm still nervous. I feel there's more on the line here because if the meeting doesn't go well for either teen, then someone will not be returning to youth group. I do not want this to cause anyone to reject God. I realize, as I prayed for these two individuals this past weekend, how valuable they are to the group. They both have a quirky side and both have great opinions to share. I hope tomorrow's meeting will go smoothly.

I appreciate any prayers you may offer for these two teens and for me.

Dear God, I know you are in control and the outcome is in your hands. May your Holy Spirit give me words to speak and give words to the teens, as well, so that they can honestly express how they feel to each other. Please stop my knees from shaking. In the name of your son, Jesus Christ, AMEN.

Where Are You, God?

2009-05-13T21:54:00.000-07:00

Dear God,

I know you can hear me. I know you are with us. I know you love us. I just know.

But, sometimes, it's hard to make my heart know what my brain knows.

Like the time when the boy got cornered at school and he ran home, probably to cry because he was being intimidated by several guys at once. Where did you go?

Where did you go when a kid got beat down in the field?

I prayed for a girl who is going through some problems with another schoolmate; if you can hear me, can you bring her back, please? And, maybe, you can hush the rumours that are whispered from ear to ear, or prevent the people from writing the rumours down on the washroom stalls.

God, did you know I was going to get those pains? They almost seemed to have predicted all the horrible things that happened this week. And it's only Wednesday.

Did you hear my youth group leader wail as she strained something in her leg?

Could you let us know soon if the girl who nearly fainted tonight is all right?

Did you hear the kid tonight when he told one of my students to shut up because she was laughing? And did you hear her silence after that? And then it wasn't enough for him to tell her to shut up because later he insulted her, too. Then she cried. Did you hear that? Did you cry, too, when you heard? And she said she would stop attending on Wednesday nights, but I begged her to let things cool down and that we'll hang out on Friday and she said ok.

God, did you see me fall to my knees on my stairs when I got home and put my face into my hands? Could you taste the salt of my tears? Could you hear my heart beat louder than my words, the words that I cried out to you, "God, where are you? I have to come to you because there is nowhere else to go. I have to put ALL of these kids into your hands because there is nowhere else for them to go. Plus, your hands are larger than mine. Tell me to come to you, Lord. Please. I cannot save the world. But, you can. You Can. And I trust you to save these children, Lord."

God, I know you heard. I know you are with us. I know you love us.

But, sometimes, it's hard to make my heart know what my brain knows.

And right now, it's sometimes.

Skin Deep

2009-05-07T18:37:00.000-07:00

A friends' blog introduced me to Skin Deep: Cosmetic Safety Database website. One can look up a cosmetic product to see not only how it impacts the global environment, but also how many and what kind of toxins are used to manufacture that product; based on those factors, the product goes through a rating scale, 0-1 being the most safe and up to 10, which is hazardous. I trust this website because it is a non-profit organization with a panel that consists of experts in fields of medicine, labour management, health and environment ministries, food industry, and agriculture.

At first, I looked up a couple of items I use, just to see what the website said, and I was surprised. I was glad to see that some products I use are not too harmful, while others are more harmful than I have imagined. For example, Sensodyne was rated very hazardous (maybe not to the point of death, but the list of its ingredients gave me alarm enough to stop using it altogether). Another surprise is that some Dove products contain many toxins, despite the recommendation of many dermatologists (I've seen two and they both recommended Dove). What I find most puzzling, however, is that a cosmetic line may be harmful in one category, such as body wash, but not in another, such as facial moisturizer.

Then, I went crazy and researched every product that I was using, currently using, and will try using in the future. I narrowed my search down to three products in each category and I bought these products based on their availability in my local supermarket, my personal awareness of them, and price. In one instance, I found my top choice for shampoo to be too expensive for its size, so I bought my second choice for half the price and around 1/3 more in quantity.

The following reviews are of the products that I have tried, mostly based on the recommendations from Skin Deep.

Shampoo: Herbal Essences No Flakin' Way Shampoo and Herbal Essences Dangerously Straight Conditioner
My Review: I don't have to use too much of the shampoo and even less of the conditioner, which makes these products seem like great value, but I felt that I couldn't seem to wash the conditioner out of my hair no matter how thoroughly I rinsed. Twice already, I felt my hair after it had dried and my hair felt congealed and greasy, as if I had never rinsed at all. I also noticed that the natural shine I had in my hair has dulled.
My Rating: 3 out of 5. I think I'll go back to Pantene, even though it didn't score too well. However, I have also used Head & Shoulders in the past and they scored fairly well, just after Herbal Essences, so I might use their products, too.

Toothpaste: Crest Sensitivity
My Review: I love this product. I used to always use Sensodyne to treat my sensitive teeth because it was the only product I knew that treated sensitive teeth, but I was never quite satisfied, as I still felt pain even during brushing my teeth. Then, I found out that Crest came out with this new toothpaste for sensitive teeth and now that I've tried it, I'm never going back to Sensodyne. I discovered this before using Skin Deep, but I'm happy to see that Crest Sensivity scored well.
My Rating: 5 out of 5.

Hand Lotion: Aveeno Active Naturals Intense Relief
My Review: I think this lotion is great. It is non-greasy and fairly priced, although it is more expensive than the Dove hand cream that I used to use.
My Rating: 4 out of 5

Body Spray: Body Shop Body Spray
My Review: My favourite scent is vanilla, so naturally I chose the Vanilla Body Spray. It is absolutely fantastic! I have sensitive skin, so when I use perfume or eau de toilette, my skin breaks out in hives after a few hours of spraying it on. The Body Shop body spray is so gentle on the skin, yet emits a very pleasant and subtle fragrance. I spritz it on myself three times and it's not overpowering at all.
My Rating: 5 out of 5. I had stopped using Body Shop products from late high school until recently because their products seemed ineffective and just not good in general. However, lately, I've been using a couple of their other products and have been quite satisfied, so they have regained my business. Body Shop products also rate very well in several categories.

Facial Day Moisturizer: Dove Pro-Age
My Review: I like it! I've been a long-time Dove fan, so I'm glad that this product rated well. Non-greasy and great under makeup.
My Rating: 5 out of 5.

Lipstick: MAC
My Review: I have a few mixed reviews. I always buy matte because I can't stand the stickiness of gloss. The one I always get from MAC is called "Icon" and it gives my lips a smooth finish and glides on easily. "Redwood" is one that I tried most recently and it also has the same finish. But, my bridal lipstick, "Brave," makes my lips chap after a few hours of wearing it. It also leaves a line on both my upper and lower lips, where my lips meet. But, it's a really nice light colour and I've bought it twice.
My Rating: 4 out of 5

Contacts Solution: Opti-Free Express, No Rub
My Review: Since a couple of products have been pulled off the shelves in drugstores and supermarkets, Opti-Free has been recommended by most optometrists as the safest brand out there for eyes. I don't really cheap out here, but Opti-Free is thankfully not that expensive to begin with.
My Rating: 5 out of 5

Eye Drops: Visine, allergy and contacts
My Review: Works fairly quickly after only one or two drops and Visine rated very well in the database.
My Rating: 4.5 out of 5

Lip Balm: Aveeno Essential Moisture Lip Conditioner with SPF 15
My Review: It was my first time trying this product and I absolutely love it! It moisturizes my lips the instant I put it on and it doesn't feel greasy. My lips don't become flaky later, either, which is a great bonus as other lip balm I have used in the past, including Chapstick and Mentholatum's Soft Lips, have done what they were made to do, but at the risk of looking like a scaly wet fish. The only downside is that it is more expensive than many of the other brands in the store, but I say it's well worth it.
My Rating: 5 out of 5

Anti-Perspirant: Soft & Dri Anti-Perspirant
My Review: Not great. It's hard and rough against the skin. I'm not even sure if it keeps me totally dry and it still leaves some white marks. At least, I don't get rashes from it.
My Rating: 2 out of 5. I'm switching back to Lady Speedstick, which has a slightly better rating than Degree, which I have also used before. Both are "black dress approved" somewhat.

Body Soap: Dove Body Bar
My Review: As I've said before, I'm a long-time fan and my hubby prefers Dove, too. Some people I talked to say Dove leaves a residue on the body, but I look at it as keeping my body moisturized.
My Rating: 5 out of 5

Body Wash: Dove Body Wash
My Review: 'Nuff said.
My Rating: 5 out of 5

Sunscreen: Neutrogena Sunblock Lotion
My Review: I love this product, too! It's not greasy and is long-lasting. Good thing it received great ratings.
My Rating: 5 out of 5

Eye Makeup Remover: Almay Eye Makeup Remover Pads
My Review: Wonderful! It's not harsh on my eyes, it's oil-free, and it does a great job of removing the makeup.
My Rating: 5 out of 5

Besides all of the above products, I also must endorse Avon products. I have several of their cosmetics products and Avon rated very well on Skin Deep, overall, even though it did not come out as my top three after checking out this database. I have product ideas lined up for nail polish, foot scrub, facial wash, night cream, lipstick, eye shadow, eye liner, and mascara. Maybe I'll create another entry for them later.

Today's blog entry might seem like an infomercial, but my intent is to inform and make suggestions based on my personal experiences. (Sell out? Nooo... hee, hee ... I didn't get paid for this!) I have sensitive skin, so I react quite easily to products that have a high level of toxins in them and this database helps my search for safe products. I am also a very tactile person, so I shudder at anything too greasy or sticky, so if you're like me, then I hope you find my reviews accurate. I would also like to encourage others to examine the products that they use and Skin Deep is a good place to start. I did not completely change all of the current products I use -- I'm not that fanatical -- but Skin Deep has helped me quite a bit.

Before I sign off here, I want to return to my friends' blog. It was created by two sisters/moms, with whom I've had the great pleasure of knowing in my brief time with RCAC. In a quest to find environmentally safe and healthy products for their families, the Richmond-based sisters decided to share their research and product discoveries online for others who also look for cost-effective and eco-friendly products. Check out Simple Sprouts today; I've put in the link to one of their entries, "Chicken a la Carte," which I found to be so moving.

Magic Number 32

2009-05-02T19:25:00.000-07:00

Me: I once had someone tell me my fortune. I didn't want her to, but she was a relative and before I realized what she was doing, she gave me good news and bad news from reading my palm.
Friend: What was the good news?
Me: That I would live a good life.
Friend: What was the bad news?
Me: That my life would end at age 32.
Friend: Is that why you don't want to have kids?

Huh. It was very difficult to actually hear a deep-seated fear voiced out loud. I had given several reasons in a previous post why I don't want to have kids; I still stand by all my reasons. But, this latest reason was one that I did not tell anyone, not even to my husband. Mainly because I don't believe in fortune-telling, but it's kind of hard to ignore when someone tells you that you are going to die sooner than later. I can only hope that my aunt is wrong.

In approximately, two more years I will find out if my aunt is right.

Arachnophobia

2009-04-18T16:07:00.000-07:00

Whenever I tell someone that I am intensely afraid of spiders, I often get, "Not Charlotte, too?" Yes. Even Charlotte. Just because she's in children literature doesn't make her less scary. Cartoon spiders in Garfield kind of creep me out, too.

Even the word "spider" scares me. The only way I can tolerate it is if I break the word up in my mind and have the letters float around meaninglessly. When someone else talks about spiders, I try not to visualize it as I do with nearly everything else.

This one time...at band camp...ok, not at band camp, but I once fainted at the sight of a spider in a camp cabin. Or maybe I fainted because I screamed so loud and hard and that I forgot to breathe.

Another time, I was in class at UBC when a large spider came crawling very quickly into the classroom. Spiders must have spidey senses for who is the most scared because of the twenty-three students in the room, it came straight toward me as I sat in the second row, third seat from the window. I screamed, stood up on my chair, and when the spider didn't stop sprinting toward me, I started to throw chairs and desks at it until a large man stomped on it and two female students hugged me until I stopped shaking.

Still, the worse story was in my first year of teaching. I had a delightful student who was curious about everything and would stop at nothing until her curiosity was satisfied. She, and the rest of the class, knew that I was afraid of spiders, but they all respected my fear until one day. During a time when the students worked at stations to explore and learn several topics at once, the OCD student found a two-page spread photo of a spider, possibly a black widow or wolf spider, in a magazine. My back was turned and when she called out, "Ms. Chan" and I turned to look at her, she jumped at me with the magazine in her hands and shoved the picture in my face. Instinctively, I reached out and struck the magazine out of her hands, then turned and sobbed. While some of the students came to console me, I could hear the other students admonish the student who had the magazine. I forced myself to stop crying to turn to all the students and say that it was not her fault. When I turned to face her, I saw that she was crying, too. She choked out, "I'm sorry, Ms. Chan! I just wanted to know how you would react. I promise I will never do it again." All the female students came and hugged me and hugged her and never again did she do something to purposely scare somebody else.

Up to this point, I realized only two times when I have seen spiders and not let my fear overtake me. The first time was when I went rock-climbing outdoors. I guess fear of falling while being over 100 ft. above ground trumps fear of spiders. I literally looked at the spider and said to it, "I don't have time for you right now" and found space to move away from it. The other time is when I'm gardening. I freeze up when I see the spider(s), but then my goal of tending to my flowers was more important than running away and screaming like a banshee. Then, somehow I find a way to continue my gardening and try to avoid the spiders. They eventually disappear into the dirt, which is fine by me.

I have tried all sorts of methods to get rid of my fear of spiders. I have even sought the help of a counselor. I haven't tried hypnosis or acupuncture, but I'm not ready to try them out yet. I have done research on phobias and I think I have found a reason why I'm afraid of spiders (phobias almost always stem from a psychological reason, one that was started by a life experience that often has nothing to do with what is feared itself). Despite knowing all that and investigating my own life, I cannot get rid of my arachnophobia.

Easter 2009 Thoughts

2009-04-14T17:59:00.000-07:00

Two things really stuck out in my mind during the weekend as I celebrated the death and resurrection of my Lord, Jesus Christ.

Unity
On Friday, five different churches came together to worship and all the pastors played various roles at the service. My senior pastor noted that we are different doorways to Christ, but we are one body of Christ.

On Sunday morning at 7:15am, I was somewhat surprised to see many of our youth group students (and a few brought their moms to help) show up to prepare an Easter breakfast for church and non-church guests. It was a lot of fun and I got to spend time not only with the kids in a different environment, but also with their parents and share great things I've noticed about their kids. We came together for one purpose, everyone chipped in to do their part, and even their usual horsing around and banter was kept at a minimum as everyone concentrated on making the breakfast event happen. It was pouring rain outside, but it was all sunshine on the inside.

Urgency
I feel so blessed to be a part of a group of people who have a common faith and purpose in life. Because I got to see how beautiful Good Friday and Easter was this past weekend, suddenly I wanted everyone I cared about to experience what I had. For instance, two former youth group students came to help out at breakfast. They do not attend youth group anymore because of other commitments like dance class, basketball practice, or cheerleading competitions that occur on the same night as youth group is held. But, we had such a great time laughing and working together on Sunday morning. My vision is to have students tell their extra-curricular instructors and coaches that they couldn't come to class, practice, or competition because they have youth group to attend. We shouldn't be fitting God into our schedules -- we should be planning for God to be in our schedules. I understand that God will be with us in all circumstances when we let Him, but I would still like to see more people make deliberate time with God. I'm still working on this, too. How can I help make youth group become THE activity of the week? What can the church do?

(Thanks, T, for the photo.)

Red Fridays

2009-03-30T21:36:00.000-07:00

In the Spring of 2006, an unofficial crusade to demonstrate support for Canadian troops was developed by two wives, Lisa Miller and Karen Boire, of Canadian servicemen after they decided to adapt an American exhortation (2005) to reflect their support for the Canadian military. Red Fridays was born and the movement has been sweeping across our nation. The idea is to wear something red, every Friday, to raise awareness of supporting our Canadian troops.

Is this effective? Red is visible, symbolizes the blood shed for our freedom, and represents the colour on our flag. Need more to be convinced? Read on:

Last week, while traveling to Toronto on business, I noticed an army sergeant traveling with a folded flag, but did not put two and two together.

After we boarded our flight, I turned to the sergeant, who'd been invited to sit in First Class ( across from me), and inquired if he was heading home.

'No', he responded.

'Heading out', I asked?

'No. I'm escorting a soldier home.'

'Going to pick him up?'

'No. He is with me right now. He was killed in Afganistan, I'm taking him home to his family.'

The realization of what he had been asked to do hit me like a punch to the gut. It was an honor for him. He told me that, although he didn't know the soldier, he had delivered the news of his passing to the soldier's family and felt as if he knew them after many conversations in so few days.

I turned back to him, extended my hand, and said, 'Thank you. Thank you for doing what you do so my family and I can do what we do.'

Upon landing in Toronto , the pilot stopped short of the gate and made the following announcement over the intercom.

'Ladies and gentlemen, I would like to note that we have had the honor of having Sergeant Steeley of the Canadian Armed Forces join us on this flight. He is escorting a fallen comrade back home to his family. I ask that you please remain in your seats when we open the forward door to allow Sergeant Steeley to deplane and receive his fellow soldier. We will then turn off the seat belt sign.'

Without a sound, all went as requested. I noticed the sergeant saluting the casket as it was brought off the plane, and his action made me realize that I am proud to be a Canadian.

So here's a public Thank You to our military Men and Women for what you do so we can live the way we do.

Red Fridays.

Very soon, you will see a great many people wearing Red every Friday. The reason? Canadians who support our troops used to be called the 'silent majority.' We are no longer silent, and are voicing our love for God, country and home in record breaking numbers. We are not organized, boisterous or overbearing.

Many Canadians, like you, me and all our friends, simply want to recognize that the vast majority of Canadians supports our troops. Our idea of showing solidarity and support for our troops with dignity and respect starts this Friday and continues each and every Friday until the troops all come home, sending a deafening message that every red-blooded Canadian who supports our men and women afar, will wear something red.

By word of mouth, press, TV -- let's make Canada on every Friday a sea of red much like a homecoming Hockey game in the bleachers. If every one of us who loves this country will share this with acquaintances, co-workers, friends, and family, it will not be long before Canada is covered in RED and it will let our troops know the once 'silent' majority is on their side more than ever, certainly more than the media lets on.

The first thing a soldier says when asked 'What can we do to make things better for you?' is 'We need your support and your prayers.' Let's get the word out and lead with class and dignity, by example, and wear something red every Friday.

http://www.redfridays.ca/mission.html

By the way, if someone could tell me where the above story originated (I was sent this via e-mail, but no source of the story was given), I would appreciate giving credit where it is due. The email story given in the website above is a different one, but a good reminder, nonetheless.

I don't know how I missed this, seeing as I like red and love being Canadian. I hope we can remember to wear red this Friday and all the Fridays that come after. I hope this turns out better than Earth Hour. Apparently, only 1% of BC remembered to turn off their lights. My sister and I played Cranium in the dark for one hour. How did you spend your Earth Hour?

The Cellist of Sarajevo

2009-03-14T20:13:00.000-07:00

There is a handful of books that have gripped my attention so ravenously that I could neither put the books down nor stop contemplating their themes days after I have turned the last page. The Cellist of Sarajevo is one such book.

This amazing tale of human spirit in the face of civil war recollects from three different viewpoints. We read from the cellist's point of view in the first chapter and only in the first chapter. He chose to play the Adagio in G Minor in memory of the people who died while waiting in a food queue. Throughout the novel afterward, we follow the stories of a defender of the city, a man who traverses town to get fresh water for his family, and a baker who meets an old friend as he waits to cross the street without getting hit by snipers. Each character struggles through the throes of a revelation that can only result from a defiance to live in a city that was once livable and a hope that the city will be livable again.

The author captured brilliantly the sorrow and determination of these three ordinary (fictional) citizens. The story is never a romantic cliché, always respectful in invoking empathy for the people who, in reality, lived through this civil war. The killers remain faceless, as are the dead. War is random and predictable all at once. The Cellist of Sarajevo makes no attempt to solve war, but gives a voice to those who are often not heard above the "conversations of violence."

The book is inspired by a cellist named Vedran Smailović, who actually played the Adagio in G Minor by Albinoni (arranged by Remo Giazotto) outside in the spot where twenty-two people were killed by a mortar while they waited in line to get bread. After I listened to the Adagio, I could not find words to express the sadness and beauty of the music, but the author, Steven Galloway, was able to. I imagine that he wrote out the words in the novel to the melody of the sonata. Both the music and story are simply breath-taking and heart-wrenching. I suggest listening to the Adagio before beginning the story and listening to it again after reading the novel.

The following video plays the Adagio, performed to commemorate the people who perished on September 11, 2001.

See You Later, Denise

2009-03-13T19:33:00.000-07:00

On Tuesday, I lost a friend to breast cancer. I didn't find out until today when I heard the news from my mother. I thought I would cry, but I didn't.

She was a vivacious woman, full of humility and kindness. She always had a smile ready on her face. She had boundless energy, even in her final days. She was the first person to welcome my dad into the church. She served God in and out of the church constantly. She was a devoted mother of three amazing kids and a supportive wife to an equally-loving husband.

She went to Hong Kong for treatments when doctors here have given all they could to help her fight the disease. We thought she would make it. She thought she would be home, in Canada, by now. In some ways, she is home. She is with God.

Perhaps, that is why I am not crying.

Phone Fear

2009-03-04T17:43:00.000-08:00

I used to be an awesome receptionist, even if I do say so myself. I wasn't perfect, but my work evaluation certainly made it seem so. I was well-liked by my boss, had a few callers who became my "fans" (which I did have to ask some of my guitar department buddies to help me fend off when they came to visit the voice they always called to hear), and my co-workers often appreciated the work that I did that made their jobs easier. I memorized over eighty phone extensions and was able to manage multiple incoming calls quickly, sometimes switching languages (up to three, or four, if you count interpreting thick Southern American accents) to accommodate our customers' needs.

With that said, I hate talking on phones. I much prefer communicating with people by e-mail or a Facebook message.

There are three reasons for this:

1) I am a FOB. I don't really have an accent, unless you count my "ol" problem as attributing to an accent. However, my written grammar is far better than my verbal grammar. Sometimes, I catch myself talking like Yoda, so I am very self-conscious when it comes to public speaking, even with close friends. How, then, can I be a teacher? I don't feel as judged by my students as I do with peers. Just my feeling. I could be wrong. Or maybe not.

2) I am a visual learner. I'm one of those people who remember details and the punchline, but because I am like Yoda, the punchline comes before the details. I need to have something before my eyes or else I forget what to say or what is being said. That's why, when D and I were dating, for example, I had to write down things I wanted to say to him because I didn't want the phone conversation to fall into an awkward silence and ruin my chances of being with him. I was like a telemarketer with scripts that prompted me on what to say after each potential answer. Don't laugh...I'm married now!

3) I'm not good at small talk. I think sometimes I almost sound rude because when I approach people to talk, I just go straight to the point. Sometimes, I might politely ask, "Hi, how are you?" Wait for the response. Then, depending on their answer, continue with the topic. Most of the time, I just say, "Hi, ____. So, I was wondering when I can get those reports?" or "...have you checked my e-mail?" or "...did that parent speak with you yet?" I also don't know how to say goodbye. I always seem to add some lame "last word" in an attempt to make the receiver of the conversation laugh before we end off. This applies to face-to-face conversation, as well.

God's got plans about my phone fear. Recently, my care group has started a challenge where we all pick one thing that we would work on and each of us would be held accountable to our own challenge by another care group member. We drew names out of a hat and then we would connect with that person to ensure that the challenges are being met on a regular basis. I picked a person who doesn't use FB, doesn't really use e-mail either, and doesn't talk much. Sounds like my husband, but that's not the case, which would be so much easier to handle. So, I have to talk to this friend on the phone. He said I can text him, but I think God wants me to be stretched outside of my comfort zone and just pick up the phone and call. But, I can imagine what the phone calls would be like:

"Hey, how are you?"
"Good, thanks. And you?"
"Good, thanks. So, how's your Bible reading coming along?"
"Good."
"Good. You're not listening to the audio version, are you? (awkward chuckles)
"No, I'm not."
"Oh, ok. Have a good day!" (click)

A Lost Generation

2009-03-03T18:06:00.001-08:00

Defendo

2009-02-23T21:32:00.000-08:00

Defendo sounds like a cheesy name for some Chuck Norris movie, but it's a variation of Krav Maga and I had the opportunity to participate in a Defendo workshop held at the National Training Centre in Abbotsford as part of our professional development.

That was last Friday and I'm still feeling the pain. For three and a half hours, a group of my co-workers and I engaged in hand-to-hand self-defense techniques. The third hour was absolutely brutal. The instructor combined all the self-defense moves we learned with a fitness routine that included running and throwing medicine balls larger than my torso. Lots of punching, kicking, ground fighting, and take-downs were ... ahem ... thrown into the mix, as well.

The instructor showed little mercy. When he demonstrated how to get out of a choke hold, he literally choked me. He said it was the only way we could "practice" an effective defensive technique. I lost count on how many near-nut-breaking moves he performed on some of my co-workers, too. Despite his discipline, he has a very kind demeanor, but that goes to show that we should not judge a book by its cover. He's a smaller man and probably in his late 40's or early 50's, but I'm sure he could take down Hercules and the Hulk in one swoop.

What an incredible, but intense workout! When I got home that day, I had enough energy to vacuum my house and go for a short jog afterwards.

Saturday was a different story. My husband had to roll me out of bed. He helped me get dressed and undressed, hockey fight-style. Throughout the whole day, I moved at a snail's pace and winced every time I had to lift my arms past my waist.

Last night, I wanted to roll over onto my stomach to sleep, but then pain shot through my abdomen and shoulder and I had to wake up my husband to help untwist me from my pretzel position.

Today, my ribs still hurt when I laugh or cough. When I sneeze, I double-over and stay in that position until the pain ebbs. I had to shift into Park with both hands. Right now, I'm feeling 30% better, so it's looking good. But, man, am I getting old! And I'm so out of shape!!!!!

Still, I would recommend Defendo to anyone who is up for a challenge. It's good exercise and a practical way to avoid becoming a victim in our crime-saturated society of late.

Turning a Frown Upside Down

2009-02-18T22:33:00.000-08:00

My interesting day overall ended on an incredible note.

One of my autistic students broke a school rule that compromised his safety. He didn't do it maliciously, although he did it intentionally. The principal and I talked to the student about this matter and later I chatted with my student privately about how there would not be a next time. The situation had been dealt with swiftly, but only time will tell if what we discussed gets through to this student.

Another thing was that our school underwent a global review. It sounds serious, but every school gets a review every year. What it basically entails is ensuring that paperwork and programs are all in place for all the designated students we have in our school. Our school's reviewer is a wonderful person, very knowledgeable, and very compassionate, plus our school is known for keeping good records, so I wasn't too worried. Our learning services team is full of people who really care to dot their i's and cross their t's. We're OCD that way. Despite all that, preparing for this global review was a daunting task, partly because we are also in the middle of creating progress reports for all of our students and partly this was in addition to the teaching services we provide for students on a daily, regular basis.

After an exhausting day at work, I tried to prepare for my youth group. Tonight's program was different in that the youth leaders decided to take a day out of our regular schedule to set guidelines for behaviour. I volunteered to lead the whole group and explain what our agenda was going to be before we split up into smaller groups. Because of the day I had, I didn't feel mentally prepared for what we had planned. I had butterflies in my stomach and worried that I would stutter and tell really lame jokes, which I tend to do whenever I get nervous. God allowed me opportunities to connect with some of the youth tonight that I hadn't planned on being with at all.

Two of the teens were sort of hiding out during games time and because I was also using that time to settle my nerves and go over my notes, I found the chance to chat with them and get to know them better.
I deliberately sought out a girl whom I've wanted to talk to about her attitude and behaviour. She was really receptive to what I had to say, so I was pleased I got that chance to talk to her.
I followed up with another teen to let him know that I really noticed a positive change in how he acts during youth group. He's still goofy, which we all love, but he's learned not to take his clownish behaviour too far.
I chatted with a girl about looks and let her know that people would find her attractive and that her family loves her no matter what.

These connections made me feel more confident in what we were doing as a youth group. I hope these kids found something meaningful in our discussion tonight. I strongly believe, though, that kids will respect us and rules more if we make meaningful conversations and connections with them. Best of all, the guidelines were created by the teens themselves, so they get to feel ownership of the youth group and not view it as something the adults made up for them. I truly feel blessed by these teens and the hard-working volunteer youth leaders who help guide them.

Sometimes, it seems like when I do something deliberately, it doesn't always work, but God always finds a way to remind me He's got everything under control.

Things You Don't Say to Your Wife

2009-02-14T18:53:00.000-08:00

I'm glad my husband doesn't say these things to me. Happy Valentine's Day, everyone!

Be Careful With What You Post

2009-02-12T23:04:00.000-08:00

I read an article today about a bus driver who was fired over what could be perceived as questionable comments on his blog. The bus driver wanted to discuss the challenges of being a bus driver, while the company felt that he was very critical of how the business was being managed.

As for myself, I have written entries about trials and triumphs I face as a teacher. There are some issues I choose not to talk about on my blog like the FSA's (Foundation Skills Assessment) or teaching Social Justice 11/12 in schools because they are politically-charged. I love a good debate when everyone participates respectfully, but some things should be said in person because much can be misconstrued when they are written, especially online! I certainly would not want to get fired because of my perception of what constitutes as honest and candid recollections of life as a teacher.

Besides, isn't what happened to the bus driver a form of censorship? When is it necessary to silence someone's need to vent or speak his/her mind over an issue in a personal forum? I hope I haven't overstepped boundaries, but at the same time, I hope I would have the integrity and audacity to speak out for something (or someone) that I think is valuable to know and worth fighting for.

How to Stay in Shape

2009-02-07T22:07:00.001-08:00

This video is for busy people like me and have access to unique weights such as the ones shown in this video.

How To Defend Yourself

2009-02-06T20:59:00.001-08:00

I'll be taking another self-defense class on Feb. 20, but I think I'll learn as much as I need to know from this video.

Got a New Phone

2009-02-01T17:22:00.000-08:00

After being an LG girl for over three years, I switched to Motorola today. Say hello to my new MOTOKRZR!

Feel free to participate on my new added blog feature on the right.

Feeling Old

2009-01-29T20:06:00.000-08:00

There's nothing like clicking the next age bracket in three different surveys to make me feel old.

One Day at a Time

2009-01-27T21:19:00.000-08:00

Today was one of those days when I felt so stressed out, I cried.

Sometimes, when students had a rough day, I allow them to let it all out. But, then they must come up with at least two good things that happened to them on the same day.

One of the things I had to deal with at work, which has been ongoing since the beginning of the school year, is dealing with the noise in the hallways after the bell has rung. Then, gently I encourage the students to get into their classrooms. Sometimes, I feel being gentle does not do the trick and I become the ogre I dread turning into. Today, some girls were shrieking in the washroom and I had to call them out because other classes were in session, plus my office happened to have the honour of directly facing the washroom entrances. Ever see clowns pile out of a mini car? FOURTEEN girls came piling out of the girls' washroom.

"Why are there so many of you? There are only three stalls in there! And why were you screaming? Is your hair on fire?"
Their excuse? "We were just changing out of/into our PE clothes." And of course, there were a lot of "I wasn't the one who was screaming" going around.

I know they were just trying to have fun, but there's a time and a place for everything. As much as I think these girls, who have been spoken to several times previously about moving and talking around the school in lower decibels, need to take responsibility for their actions, I do think that part of my issue has to do with their teachers who stay inside their classrooms while their students run amok in the hallways. And as much as I would like to ask these teachers to speak to their students about respecting others, I don't think that would really work and I don't want to complain unless I had more viable solutions to offer.

Anyway, here are the two good things that happened:

1) There is one particular Grade 6 boy I got the privilege of knowing this year. He is almost always cheerful and his amusing curiosity never fails to make me laugh. His delight in something quite simple really made my day.

He came into my office, all flustered (as he usually is) because he wanted some help in completing an assignment. It turned out to be a crossword puzzle and he needed a five-letter answer for one of the remaining clues he had. Eventually, we found out the answer in an atlas: Omaha. When he found out, he just stared at me with amazement before breaking into a huge grin.

"O--MA--HA?!?"
I laughed at his expression. "Yes, the answer is Omaha."
"OMAHA!!!!" And he giggled. Then, he doubled over with laughter before writing down the answer. Then he bowed to me multiple times, all the while repeating his thanks over and over and laughing. He was so grateful to have found the answer, but I still don't quite know why he was laughing so hard over it. After he left, an overwhelming silence filled my office, the same kind of silence one would hear in the theatre after the last vibration of a violin ebbs. I couldn't help, but smile myself. How awesome a child's laughter is.

2) I'm still alive...
... to hear a child laugh
... to savour each delicious morsel of food that my husband prepared for me
... to seize another day

Greyhound Update

2009-01-19T22:10:00.000-08:00

I got a full refund!

But, to cheer me up a bit more, my friend found an audio clip that combined my two favourite people: the Irish and children. Check out Becky's Demolition Company.

Are You Afraid of the Dark?

2009-01-04T19:54:00.001-08:00

I'm afraid of the dark. Not as afraid as I am of spiders and I am afraid of the dark only occasionally. But, I don't like being in the dark very much, which doesn't bode well for me as a youth group counselor when a lot of my teens like to play games, like Sardines, in the dark.

Last night, I couldn't sleep and sometime after 1 am, I got thirsty and went downstairs for a drink. Not wanting to wake my husband, I didn't turn on any light until I got to the dining room. It is always darker after once you had light and then did not, so when I turned off the light, I suddenly felt so overwhelmed by the darkness and my thoughts of all things that are scary that I quickly ran upstairs thinking that the faster I get to bed, the safer I would feel.

Not a smart move. Not smart at all.

My quick-pattering feet up the stairs and into the bedroom startled my husband wide awake and he thought we were under attack by an intruder. He screamed and I screamed and we both screamed some more, but not for ice cream. Finally, not wanting to be clobbered over the head by the wooden bat by my husband's side of the bed, I cried out, "It's me! It's me! It's only me!"

I turned on the lamp on my nightstand and I quickly hugged my husband close to me and over and over again I apologized for frightening him. When our fast-beating hearts slowly drummed to a steady, calmer pace, we laid back down to sleep. But, I stayed awake a while more because I kept hearing his frightened shouts in my head. My logical and sensible husband screaming. I never want to hear that sound again. And I felt all the more worse knowing that I had caused it because of my childish fear of the dark.

Like I said, I'm not always afraid of the dark, but recently I have been because of this. My fear of the dark will soon pass and I hope it will before my husband leaves for a week-long training sometime this month. Then, I will have to rely on God's power to protect me from the darkness.

2 Corinthians 4:5-7 (New International Version)

For we do not preach ourselves, but Jesus Christ as Lord, and ourselves as your servants for Jesus' sake. For God, who said, "Let light shine out of darkness," made his light shine in our hearts to give us the light of the knowledge of the glory of God in the face of Christ.

But we have this treasure in jars of clay to show that this all-surpassing power is from God and not from us.

Fave New Stuff

2008-12-29T11:31:00.001-08:00

Yesterday was my first day back at home since the 24th, so my husband and I opened our X'mas gifts together last night. In addition to little thoughtful gifts from my family, husband's family, students, and co-workers, here are a few of my favourite gifts this year:

I first came across the Little Wombat when my sister borrowed "Found You, Little Wombat!" from the library to read to the kid she baby-sat throughout last summer. I like this book because it's about the adventures of an ADHD wombat. Sounds quirky, eh? Little Wombat is the cutest creature to come out of children's literature since Winnie-the-Pooh, although some people like my sister-in-law, may argue otherwise.

My hubby noticed that I was labeling all my books at work and at home with old address labels, so he got me my very own book embosser. IN JULY! Guess which book I embossed first? Hint: It's my other fave new stuff.

Because of the snow, my other fave gift was spending time with my family. For two whole days, I did not leave the house because we were snowed in, but I got to spend lots of time with my my mom, my dad, and my sister, even though my poor sister was all sick and sniffly. She better not be at work today. I also walked over to my aunt's house to see my grandmother who had come home before Christmas after spending over a month in the hospital due to a spontaneous fracture caused by osteoporosis. She seems to be doing well, but when the weather gets better, my grandmother plans on going back to Taiwan; she doesn't feel like she will have much longer to live, so she wants to be laid to rest in the country where she spent most of her life. This may have been our last Christmas together in Canada.
This is my favourite photo of my grandmother and sister together. They have a very close relationship.

What presents did you get this year?

Let It Show!

2008-12-26T11:45:00.000-08:00

Merry Christmas, everyone!

Ok, so I'm a day late. And that is not a typo in my title. This is my second Christmas as a married woman and I'm spending it away from my husband. No, it's not why you might think; no one's in the doghouse, but I'll explain that a little later.

Let it snow, let it snow, let it snow. The Lower Mainland and elsewhere across the country have been inundated with white stuff falling from the sky since last Wednesday. It has wreaked havoc on the roads and almost every driver has been affected. All I can say is drive with caution and a smile on your face. On the first day of snowfall, I got stuck on the road twice, but it was fluffy snow, so I wasn't stuck per se, but only slipping in a stationary position. I just had to keep my wits about me and be patient. Eventually I got freed both times and continued home safely.

Let it snow, let it snow, let it snow. My sister-in-law and her husband (whom I'll refer to as Dr.'s, which they both are) were scheduled to leave Toronto at about 5pm EST on Dec. 23rd. They decided to take an earlier flight to ensure that they would make the connecting flight in Calgary, but their flight was delayed and Dr.'s had to wait in the airport for hours. Eventually they left Toronto, but they missed their connecting flight in Calgary. Now Dr.'s were stranded in Calgary and while trying to find another flight to Abby, Westjet gave vouchers for their customers to stay in a hotel. After only getting about three hours of sleep, at best, Dr.'s were back at the airport. This time, they were able to find a flight to Abby, but again that flight was delayed. Hours later, the inevitable happened: the flight had been cancelled and the Dr.'s scrambled to find other flights. My poor sister-in-law and her husband prepared to spend X'mas in the Calgary Airport. Determined, however, Dr.'s managed to secure a flight that would take them to Vancouver and we crossed out fingers that they would get here before Christmas. Just before midnight (PST) on Christmas Eve, Dr.'s touched down at YVR. God answered our prayers and Dr.'s finally arrived in time for Christmas, exhausted and sick of airport food, but here safe and sound nonetheless. Thank God! God answered our prayers in another way, too. It snowed and snowed, but when we found out that Dr.'s were on the airplane to Vancouver, it stopped snowing! So, the drive from Mission to Vancouver was less dangerous than if it had been done in the snow. Here's where I explain why I'm away from my husband. Because of the snow, I wasn't sure how possible it was for me to see my family this Christmas, but since Dr.'s were arriving in Vancouver instead of in Abbotsford as originally planned, this presented an opportunity for me to see my family. Before D drove to the airport, he dropped me off at my parents' place. D drove his sister back to Mission and they spent Christmas with his family. Then the snow came again and made travel difficult. That is why I am spending Christmas away from my husband. I miss him lots.

Let it snow, let it snow, let it SHOW. Love and kindness was shown to me and my husband in ways we didn't think of. The night we found out Dr.'s were going to make it, D and I went to his dad's house to use his dad's car to drive his sister home. D drove his RSX with all-season tires, but despite their triple treads, traction control was nil as we tried to make it up a small hill. Walking to his dad's house from where we got stuck would take far less time than the time we used to push his car. For about 5-10 minutes, I tried to push the car while D drove (I can't drive stick). We made very little progress. The first person to come by was a driver who stopped his car behind us and waited. It turned out that we were blocking his driveway and as soon as we somehow made it past his house, he drove into his driveway, looked at us, and walked away. As I pushed, I prayed to God to give me strength. In my mind, I was hoping for some superhuman burst of strength that would propel D's car out of the rut we were in. But, God had other plans. His answer to my prayer for strength came in the form of about fifteen people who stopped their cars (partly because we were blocking the road) and got out to help. Some of them may even have left the comfort of their homes to help, too. I was worried that someone would slip and get hurt just trying to help us, as one girl did fall down, but I was so grateful to have so many people help. As we all pushed and got the car going, one guy cried out, "Merry Christmas!" and we all chuckled. We looked like a bobsled team, pushing the vehicle from the sides and back and eventually D's car was moving. They let go and then just at the place where we had to turn, D's car got stuck again. So, I ran to catch up, but this time a whole new set of people, who had been watching our escapade from the top of the hill, came together to push D's car with me. This didn't take too much more effort and we were on our way again. Then when we got stuck in front of D's parents' driveway, their neighbours came out to shovel the snow out of the way for us and the whole ordeal finally ended when D parked his car in the garage.

Other acts of kindness I've encountered included a neighbour using his snow-blower to help us clear our driveway (maybe as a result of us helping him push his car into his garage when it got stuck earlier, but he was a nice guy anyway) and another neighbour using his own motorized snow plower to take his kid out for a ride and plowing the snow off the sidewalks in our neighbourhood in the process. On the news, a guy who was shoveling his sidewalk in North Vancouver noticed a large Save-on-Foods truck struggling to get to the top of the hill, so this guy used his shovel and quickly shoveled all the snow away from the tires as the truck moved up the hill slowly. He never got a verbal thanks, but I'm sure he knew that the driver was very grateful for this small, but kind gesture.

Snow has made things a little difficult and inconvenient, but it would never stop the neighbourly love that many people have shown. Yes, there are a few people who are apathetic or even take advantage of the situation and worsen it for some people, but the news rarely show the many more good things that happen on a daily basis. I hope you have been shown kindness and that God has answered your prayers this holiday season, too.

Have a very merry and safe Christmas!

Gift-giving

2008-12-21T14:11:00.000-08:00

Christmas has turned into something that it shouldn't:

of who receives the best gift
or who can give the best turkey dinner
the busiest time of year for most people
the loneliest for some
to consume
and to be consumed

Even Dr. Seuss says:
"Then the Grinch thought of something he hadn't before.
What if Christmas,
he thought,
doesn't come from a store.
What if Christmas,
perhaps,
means a little bit more."

I have been reading a number of blogs from people, Christian and non-Christian, who try to keep the true meaning of Christmas by giving presence, not presents. I'm struggling with keeping tradition and making Christmas more meaningful. I wonder if it could not be both. Could I not use the act of giving a gift for also showing how important that person is to me? Is gift-giving really a bad thing? Isn't it just a vehicle for people to spend time together?

I just realized, as I type this, that for some reason, I wrote X'mas cards to all my co-workers, but none to my friends and family. Perhaps, because I subconsciously know that if I didn't, my family and friends would grant me forgiveness and be happy that I am there to celebrate Christmas and usher in the New Year with them. No strings or ribbon or gift receipt attached. I guess that should be the same with presents.

I still don't have the answers and even if I do, I know that I will revisit the gift-giving conundrum again later in life as the secular Christmas evolves.

For now, I leave you with something quiet and humble to contemplate:

Isaiah 9:6
For to us a child is born,
to us a son is given,
and the government will be on his shoulders.
And he will be called
Wonderful Counselor,
Mighty God,
Everlasting Father,
Prince of Peace.

Car Enthusiasts vs. Street Racers

2008-12-15T15:59:00.000-08:00

When I first saw this on the news and then later on a news website, I felt that I had to defend my hobby.

First of all, I'm not one to spend loads of money on my car; 1) I don't have that kind of money and 2) If I did have the money, I'd spend it on other things like on my mortgage or on a night out with hubby/friends.

Secondly, I belong to a car club that is based locally and will often meet throughout the year to talk about car modifications and other stuff, not always car-related. Either before or after, we would go for a drive together as a group (always within a reasonable speed limit) and sometimes, we'll end up eating at a restaurant together and just talk more car stuff. Not being very savvy with car mods, I joined this club to make new friends and learn. Through this club, I learned what angel eyes are, how to install hood dampers, and purchased my own little aesthetic mods. Had I not married (ahem, I love my hubby, but...), I may have spent a lot on new rims, catback magnaflow exhaust, struts, and springs. But, for now, I am content with just learning from "the guys."

What riles me is the third photo in the article. My thought: SO WHAT? We meet all the time to talk car stuff, never to race, unless of course the purpose of the meet was to go to the Mission Raceway to race on the track. I love it when the media puts in something irrelevant (or as another fellow blogger who feel[s] that we often place too much weight on just getting some different opinion – even when it doesn’t make a lot of sense) just to get things heated. I like being with the club because the type of car we drive is usually driven by older, more mature people. Actually, I'm probably one of the older folks on the forum. But, we do not condone street racing. That's not to say the younger version of our club (the 3's) do, but some of them are younger and have an "I'm young and invincible" attitude still, as demonstrated by both of the drivers in the video.

Indeed, I brought this article forward to my students who will be eligible to drive within three years. The gist that I told them, in addition to what I said above, is that if they choose to drive recklessly and no one else is in the car, then that is their choice. But, keep in mind that my sister, his parents, her niece, their friends, etc. are out on the same road and if "you" take them out while driving stupid, then I really hope you will face harsh judgment. I knew a kid several years ago, who tried to make it to the ferry terminal in time with three passengers in his car, including his then-girlfriend, by driving over 200km on the streets and highway. He still ended up missing the ferry. As soon as he landed and got to the campsite, and I found out what he did, I took him aside and with steam coming out of my ears, I calmly told him that a ferry ride is not worth four lives, let alone the lives of other people that he put in danger by driving like a maniac. Then, later I found out that he got angry with his girlfriend for telling me how he had driven.

So -- to set the record straight: not all car enthusiasts, and in fact I will go as far as to say most, are street racers. If I got the feeling that someone was trying to goad me into racing at the light, I purposely start extra-slow to give the hint that I'm simply not interested.

Greyhound Blues

2008-12-03T17:47:00.000-08:00

I was going to title this entry "Greyhound Headache," but I realized that it might sound like I was making light of a recent news-worthy situation.

Having said that, my trouble with Greyhound Bus Lines is nothing compared to that horrible incident, but it is turning me into a very unhappy camper.

On August 25, last summer when I was in Toronto, I wanted to take a trip to Niagara Falls with my husband the following day. I looked on the Greyhound website for times and rates and what I found were amazing deals under a discount category! So, I tried to purchase a couple of tickets for the time we wanted, but my credit card number wasn't accepted online for some reason. So, I decided to call in to pay for those tickets instead. At first, the representative gave me the price of a straight date-and-location ticket, but when I inquired about the prices I saw on the Net, she conceded that they existed. However, the operator couldn't give me the lower price I saw online, something about because the deals were so amazing that people were ordering them left, right, and centre, so whatever was available at the time was what they could offer. The price that she did give me was still far cheaper than if I had just bought a ticket based on location and date on their website, as she originally tried to do. In fact, it was so cheap that I asked her THREE times during the phone call if the price she quoted me was really for a round-trip from Toronto to Niagara Falls. She said yes. I even apologized, "I'm really sorry I'm making you repeat this, but I can't believe that it's that cheap for a round trip." And she said, "Yes, ma'am, it is for a round trip."

The next day, we go to the bus depot to pick up our tickets. Apparently, Greyhound ticket holders don't have a booth; they just have a couple of college-looking kids in reflector vests standing by a heating duct with a clipboard in one hand and a walkie-talkie in the other. Anyway, we went to ask about our tickets. I was in for a big surprise. The tickets were priced at what the operator quoted and charged me, but they were only for ONE-FREAKIN'-WAY!

Obviously, D and I missed our Niagara Falls trip because I was on the phone with three different Greyhound people, each whom I've had to call separately because each worked at different locations in the country. About half an hour later, I was absolutely livid because I got nowhere with Greyhound.

In September, once we have returned home, I returned my tickets to Greyhound and I'm still waiting for a refund. I received a letter in October from Greyhound asking me to call them and give them my credit card number, so that they could refund me. Finally, I had a chance to call them today (they are not open when I am not busy, of course) and the operator told me that I would be refunded half the amount I paid. I said to the operator that wasn't good enough. I know it's not her fault and she reminded me that these were non-refundable tickets, but I explained to her that I didn't plan on refunding them in the first place had everything worked out the way I was told it would by a Greyhound representative. So, a comment has been made on my file and will be sent back to the refund analyst for further investigation.

There are two very frustrating issues with this whole fiasco.

One, I was misinformed in the first place. Three times, I asked the very first representative if this price was for a round-trip! One of the operators I spoke to on the phone said that she would put in a comment that there was a miscommunication as a reason for a refund request. I wanted her to change that to misinformation because I heard the lady right the first, second, and third time I asked her about the round-trip fare!

Two, I had spoken to about five people altogether about my situation and none of them is the person who can actually do anything about it. The refund analyst receives second-hand information from Greyhound reps, which I don't think is truly representative of how I perceive the situation.

I think I'm dealing with this diplomatically, but I have to admit that I have to keep my temper in check before I call because I know that the people who answer the calls are not the ones who are at fault.

How should I deal with this? Should I just forget about it and count my blessings that I'm even getting half back on non-refundable tickets? Should I keep fighting for it? I know Snerk dealt with something similarly frustrating with a certain cell phone company. Is there any advice anyone could give me, please?

Senior Youth Group

2008-11-29T15:46:00.000-08:00

(Thanks to you, my readers, for your thoughtful prayers and heartfelt comments for Chummy.)

I'm having a lot of fun being a counselor for my senior youth group at my church. It has been a long time since I worked with youth older than 13-years-old (specifically Grade 9-12), so when an opportunity came up to serve Jesus as a youth group counselor, I jumped at the chance.

Often we do Bible studies, but once a month, we hold an event night. I don't remember a lot of what I did as a high-schooler in youth fellowship myself, but there are a couple of things we've done at Cedar Valley so far that I haven't done as a teen.

The first event occurred in October when we all went to the corn maze/maize. We split up into several smaller groups and then tried to find our way through two parts of the maze. The main challenge was finding our way in the dark, but I had a lot of fun. My group sang songs all the way through, which may have annoyed other people hearing us sing "The ants go marching ten-by-ten, hurrah, hurrah..." or "Once an Austrian went yodeling on a mountain so high..."

The second event was in November and that one was called the Menno Run. The story is: Christian Mennonites (which is what we are) meet to worship in various places, but they always have to be on the move because the Russian police try to chase them down and capture them. How we played it is: the teens run around town at night time, getting clues to their next destinations at various check points. The counselors drive around town looking for them and if we spot them, we scream out of our cars "Reach for the sky!" and the teens have to stop and allow us to brand them with Bingo markers. The rules are that the teens have to wear white bands around their arms to identify themselves as Cedar Valley teens, they have to travel in groups, and they can't run once the counselors have spotted them and shouted out the code phrase. There were a couple of times when my partner and I approached a group of teens that didn't belong to us, but that was all in fun. Sometimes, we had to jump out of our cars to chase down the teens. The funniest is when our headlights catch the teens jumping into bushes or behind other objects to avoid getting caught. To make things easier for the game, our pastor informed the RCMP that we were playing this game,so if other townsfolk called us in for mischief, the RCMP would know what we were doing. One of our groups ran into a little trouble when they went to hide behind a car and a bunch of drunk college guys came running out of a house to yell at the teens. When we found our teens, a couple of the girls were crying because they were so frightened; apparently, the college guys threated to beat them up. So, my partner and I went to talk to the guys at the house and calmly explained to them that we were playing a game. The guys, although inebriated, also calmly told us that they thought the teens were trying to steal their cars because one of the guys had that happened to him recently. We apologized to each other and they thanked us for coming around to tell them what our teens were doing. After that, we drove around looking for the remaining groups to warn them of that particular house and to re-instruct them to be careful of other people's property. Despite that one incident, I think the teens had fun and I did, too.

The most recent event was the Elf Hunt. The story is: Santa's elves have been kidnapped since last Christmas and the teens must help find the elves and return them to the North Pole so that Christmas wouldn't be ruined for this year. The teens are given photos of the "elves," which are really the counselors and other church volunteers, and they are to find them in the mall and get their signatures. The challenge: the "elves" have changed appearances over time; we (the counselors) disguised ourselves so we wouldn't be so recognizable, but we would still blend in with the shoppers. When the teens suspect that they have spotted an elf, they approach the elf and sing "We wish you a Merry Christmas" to which we reply with "Joy to the World." If the kids approached the wrong people, at least they would have blessed a stranger during this holiday season. I tried to find a wig for myself, but I wasn't able to. So, I did the best I could. I thought that being Chinese would make it very easy for me to be spotted in an Abbotsford mall; after all, it's not like in Richmond where we "all look alike." But, surprisingly, I was spotted only once and that was before I could purchase dollar store glasses to help with my disguise. The teens think that it's because I drove them to the mall and didn't think I'd be in on it. So, it all worked out well. I also made myself look extra snobby so even if the teens thought they recognized me, they would be too intimidated to approach me, which has happened more than a few times. I spotted the teens, but they would look at me uncertainly and then not approach me.

Dear Chummy,

2008-11-15T11:18:00.000-08:00

I remember when I first saw you. You were huddled among several tufts of brown fur. But, your coat was the only one that had a white stripe that ran all around your waist -- if that is your waist. I couldn't tell. But, you were so cute and I pointed to you and said, "That one!"

When I brought you home, my sister fell in love with you instantly. My mother loved and cherished you despite never holding you in her hands because she was afraid you were germy. Even my dad, who is afraid of rodents, fussed over you, making sure that you were fed and not feeling lonely.
I bought you because my last class of students at KGS behaved so well. I promised them that if they did, they would receive their biggest desire -- a class pet. That year, because of you, six of those students asked their parents for their very own hamsters. You taught them how to be responsible and loving. You even motivated one student to write; because he had dyslexia, he worked extra hard on his writing, so he could write a letter to his mother explaining why he should be allowed to have a pet hamster of his own. She told me that she has never seen him work so diligently on a voluntary assignment. And you showed a girl with autism how even a shy and timid girl like her can be brave enough to hold you -- you calmed her from shaking, not the other way around. You helped give her confidence and that was precious. At the end of the year, every student got to take home a picture with you. They all said it was their favourite picture.
My family called you Chummy. My students called you Athena. But, no matter what you were called, you were loved.

I remember that you used to bite us, but not very often. Eventually, you knew that when we put our hands into your cage with our palms up, we meant to hold you and pet you, and not to harm you. Sometimes, you even put your tiny little paws into our hands to let us know that you wanted to be held at the moment.

When I learned that you liked to eat bananas, I shared my breakfast banana with you every other day. I didn't eat where you ate, of course, but it was cute to see you grasp the edge of the banana with your paws while you gnawed hungrily at the treat.
Someone told me that hamsters enjoy chewing on toilet paper rolls and using the bits to build a nest. So, my family and friends harvested numerous empty toilet paper rolls for you to chew on. I was more delighted when I saw you stuff tissue paper into your mouth. It was the funniest thing and the best "trick" my students have ever seen. All that paper stuffed so quickly into your mouth and then your cheeks filled up, making you look three times larger. We all groaned with disgust, but stared in awe, as we watched you regurgitate the paper out into a loosely-twisted rope. To our surprise, the tissue was dry. When you were done, we would shout, "Again!" but you were tired and ready for your nap.
You slept a lot. A LOT! But, at night you would be scampering about. What mischievous trouble were you getting into when the rest of us would dream at night?

I remember when I bought you chew sticks. They were nuts and seeds, coated with honey, and packed so tightly together into a shape of a long stick. You devoured an entire five-inch long stick in less than a day; you even chewed on the plastic hook that the stick was attached to.
That's when we discovered your bizarre passion for anything plastic and chewable. You chewed on everything! One day, my sister realized that she hadn't heard your exercise ball rolling about as you run in it around the house. She searched the house and found your ball only to discover that you had chewed the tabs around the door and escaped! Fortunately, you didn't go far. I bet you were scared and didn't know what to do with the new-found freedom. So, my sister kept you safe and put you back into your house.

Do you remember your house? It was better than the cage that we brought you home in. Do you remember why I got it for you? Before the exercise ball, I had given you a metal wheel to run on. One evening, before I left the school, I went to say goodnight to you and I saw a hole in your side, the same size as the axle on the wheel. I had a feeling that one of those times when I transported you back and forth from school and my parents' house, the wheel fell on top of you or you were squished against the wheel. My family and I were so concerned that we prayed for you. My sister took you to the vet and the vet assured us that it was just a bruise. Indeed, within one week, that hole went away, along with all of our worries for you.
Last night, at 12:30am, I turned off the lamp on my night stand to go to sleep. Little did I know, that at that same time, another light in this world was extinguished. You went to sleep, an eternal sleep. This morning at 9:00am, I called home to ask how things were. Almost immediately, my dad told me that you had passed away.

I cried.

I am still crying.

Later today, my sister would have brought you to a field by KGS. She would bury you and say a little prayer for you. She would have wept for you, too.

You are much loved, Chummy. We know that you are in Pet Heaven somewhere and God is making sure there are enough wood chips (the pine chips, your favourite), chew sticks, and tissue paper for you to enjoy.

Rest in peace.

Chummy Chan
September 16, 2006 ~ November 15, 2008

Melody Anne's Big Day

2008-11-14T21:25:00.000-08:00

The baptism was held at Emmaus Lutheran Church in Burnaby on November 9, 2008. It was my first Finnish service. The ceremony was beautiful for obvious reasons, but I liked how intimate the setting was. After the baptism, the minister held the baby and carried her up and down the aisle so that everyone could bless her...or just look at her cute face.

Our little angel!!!!!!!!

I was laughing because Melody Anne loves her baths and when the minister ever so gently poured water over her head, Melody Anne was enjoying every second of it! She had such a look of bliss on her face. Too bad we weren't allowed cameras up there.

The proud parents! Look at how she looked up at her daddy! She just adores them.

The proud godparents! Melody Anne was so good throughout the service after her presentation. Didn't cry at all. Must've been the bath...I mean, baptism. :)

Lest We Forget

2008-11-11T10:42:00.000-08:00

Not Unlike Calvin & Hobbes

2008-11-03T18:44:00.000-08:00

"We are here to celebrate Bianca's extraordinary life. From her wheelchair, Bianca reached out and touched us all, in ways we could never have imagined. She was a teacher. She was a lesson in courage. And Bianca loved us all. Especially Lars. Especially him." ~~ Reverend Bock

What a wonderful woman Bianca is. Too bad she's not real.

D rented a movie that I requested because I've heard good reviews about it, but saw little recognition for it in the media. When D asked the lady at the video store if she's seen it, she said that she was turned off by the premise of the movie. She's not interested in "a guy who talks to a blow-up doll."

In Lars and the Real Girl, director Craig Gillespie and writer Nancy Oliver mirror the connections made and lost in our often comical and sometimes absurdly serious real world. Lars, a sad introvert, becomes friends (not "friendly") with a doll he ordered online. The people in his town cautiously play along and I get a glimpse of what our real world would look like if we could come together truly as a community to accept one another and the baggage that often comes with a person -- not to mock something or someone different because of our own discomfort and lack of empathy. I have to admit, that this movie is borderline psychotic -- sorry, I should say quasi-delusional. But, perhaps, in the real world, we all have to be somewhat off-key in order to keep our sanities in check. How ironic.

Through the extraordinary encounters and activities that Bianca is involved in, Lars transcends his loneliness and develops connections with a community he didn't realize existed for him. I hope that not all of us require the help of a blow-up doll to discover how important having a real relationship with people is.

I give this movie two thumbs-up! Heart-warming like Full House, but without the sappiness.

"Whoa! Wow!"

2008-10-31T20:45:00.000-07:00

Ever remember getting this excited and frightened at the same time?

My Purpose

2008-10-19T19:50:00.000-07:00

Will Graham, grandson of Billy Graham, showed an audience a pen and asked, "What is the purpose of this pen?"
The audience replied, "It writes."
Will set the pen down on top of a notepad and stared at it. Looking puzzled, he then asked, "Why isn't the pen doing its job?"
The audience replied, "You have to hold it and then write with it."
Will exclaimed, "Correct! We are like that pen. We can only find purpose in the Master's hand; we can't do anything without Him."

I can only imagine what flows out of me when I let Him do the writing.

Home Upgrades

2008-10-18T20:33:00.001-07:00

Firstly, staining our 2 and a 1/2-month-old fence was our #1 priority before the autumn rains come. What you see on the panels right behind the tree is Natural Wood stain. The panel and a half on the right of the photo shows what the fence looked like before.

Secondly, after months of searching for a painting to fill the expanse of mushroom brown in the dining room, we finally settled on an oil painting of nine carp. For the longest time, D and I couldn't decide what to get, although we knew we wanted a Chinese-style painting. It got to the point where D and I wanted a group of pandas playing among lilies and bamboo, beside a lake filled with gold fish, with a backdrop of mountains and waterfalls in the background, and maybe a dragon flying in the sky.

Anyway, the carp represent healthy competition and ambition in business and academic realms. Although my father prefers the other meaning of carp, which is fertility, I'd like to think that D and I, although not interested in climbing any corporate ladders of any sort, strive for excellence in our lines of work.

Speaking of work, my career has been the main reason for my hiatus from blogging. September was the month of creating Annual Instructional Plan (AIP) for my 17 International students; October is the month of Individual Education Plan (IEP) for my four students with autism and two physically-dependent students. Next, in November, will be progress report-writing time. I love my job, but some days see me in up to three meetings and/or workshops. If I could sleep on the couch I have in my office in the evenings, I could get so much accomplished in more time, but that wouldn't be fair to D.

Two of my weekday evenings are also taken up by church responsibilities. Tuesday nights, D and I attend a care group for young couples. On Wednesdays, I help out in youth group. Because I had quit as a Sunday School (Bible Adventures at my church) teacher to free up my weekends, for in case my father's health took the turn for the worse and I could go visit him, I became a Senior Youth Counselor. I help lead an all-girls small group; the girls range in age from Grades 9-12. We are joined by a senior boys group at the beginning and end of the evening, as well as by a group of junior kids who are between Grades 5-8. I have enjoyed this so far, taking a break from the usual bunch of younger students I have been teaching in the past 5 years of my career.

I have come close to being burnt out, but I know my Lord will not give me anything I can't handle without Him. In fact, He has blessed me so much with the new opportunities He has opened up for me this year.

To My Loyal Readers

2008-10-15T21:01:00.000-07:00

Lately, I haven't found enough time or the energy to blog. I want to describe how my husband and I stained our fence, my new position as senior youth counselor at my church, my responsibility to teach students how to be global citizens, and the Canadian election. I even have photos to share with you.

Surprisingly to me, I have received encouragement from a few of you to try to find time because this is how we connected. Sad in some ways, but I guess when a few of us live hundreds of kilometres away from each other, this is one of the best ways for you to get to know what's going on my side of the world.

I'm not ready yet to give up blogging completely, so, to my faithful readers, I ask for your patience.

Summer Joy

2008-09-08T20:27:00.000-07:00

Between June 28 and September 6, I had attended seven weddings. Ranging from the most extravagant style to the simplest of elegance, all the weddings were unique and wonderful. I am honoured to have been invited to so many.

What I remembered the most from each wedding (my apologies, the photos do not do justice to the stunning work of the decorators and planners):

June 28: The Gock-Mori Wedding

I had only attended the ceremony; because of the Catholic rituals, the ceremony was long, but beautiful.

July 5: The Sei-Ing Wedding

The wedding looked as elegant as the venue that hosted it. This was the first wedding in which my husband and I were named out-of-town guests -- even though we lived the closest to the venue. Their wedding invitations also had silhouettes of their profiles printed on them -- very cool.

August 9: The Lam-Chan Wedding

D and I were invited only to the reception, but D had grown up with the bride's brother and knew the whole family for a very long time. They also had a Transformers cake. Enough said.This wedding was special because it marked several transitions this family was going through, including saying farewell to D's best friend as he relocated to HK the very next day.

August 16: The Mah-Su Wedding

By comparison to most weddings I've been to, this was a very extravagant, but exquisite, wedding, complete with lion dances, blossom trees decorations, and a very well-made video presentation of his proposal to her on a cruise ship. The bouquet and garter tosses were met with excitement, surprisingly. At the wedding previously mentioned (among many other weddings), the garter flew right through a split in the middle by the guys who were "forced" to come fight for the garter.

August 23: The Wong-TomKun Wedding

An invitation to D's cousin's wedding was also an opportunity for D and me to be tourists in Toronto. Because I was family, I was invited, but did not partake, in the very lovely tea ceremony. The slide show presentations were casual, but funny.

August 29: The DeHaas-Hoeksema Wedding

I have never seen so many young children participate at a ceremony! Usually weddings would have one or two flower girls and a male ring bearer. There were at least seven kids who helped out somehow, whether it was to drop flower petals in the aisle or carry the bubble-blowing machine (which the little girl forgot to use in all her excitement of walking down the aisle). They were absolutely precious, though! The speeches made at this wedding were filled with hilarious stories; one of the speeches included a lengthy, but funny Shrek-parody of the bride and groom.

September 6: The Lee-Chan Wedding

One of the simplest Chinese weddings (paradox?) I have been to. Perhaps the most unique aspect of this wedding was that the father of the bride doubled as the minister of the ceremony. The father walked his daughter down the aisle, became the minister to ask "Who gives away this bride?", and then steps back down to say, "Her mother and I do!" to nobody in particular, and all the guests just laughed. The laughs were louder when at the end of the ceremony, the father/minister announced, "T, you may now kiss my daughter!" Everyone was in stitches, but the poor groom was too shy and embarrassed to kiss his new wife, so the father/minister had to say, "T, you have my permission to kiss her" to which the groom responded with a peck on the bride's cheek.

I had wished that I could've included photos of the brides in this blog, but I couldn't get permission from all of them, so I decided not to show any at all. The gowns (including the qi paos and kuas, where applicable) were gorgeous, but they were all so different from each other; the makeup was flawless, and the hair styles were impeccable, although the style now appears to be loosely curled hair that is half gathered up. Lastly, I must say that no matter how they put their looks together, every bride was incredibly radiant, elegant, splendid, and charming. (Sorry guys, but suits are suits and they all pretty much looked alike.)

May God bless all these marriages.

My Next Door Kid

2008-08-17T21:12:00.000-07:00

I have grown to love the little tyke that lives next door. P is an energetic, independent, and fun-loving little guy whom I've had the pleasure of babysitting almost all of last week.Every day we watched children's programs on Treehouse (some of those shows are really, really strange, but I guess kids love them), ate Freezies, played with toy cars, toy trucks, and toy trains, ran away and hid from monsters, listened to the alphabet song sung in rap style, and conquered the world!

Among some of those adventures, P:experimented with brushing his teeth all by himself,

explored the "forest," and

caught up on some reading (no, he's really not reading, but it was awfully cute to see him go through the motions).

P and I often went for walks and on one of those walks one day we ventured out to the big street where he gladly waved to all the drivers in dump trucks. All the drivers actually saw P wave at them and they would either wave back or honk those loud horns. P loves those trucks and has a deep respect for them, especially when they are at work; he'll go near the empty stationary excavators (he calls them diggers) and backhoe loaders that are left by the workers after work, but he'll watch from a very safe distance when they are moving. We saw lots of trucks that day and our neighbourhood is the best place for them because of all the new developments happening around our area.

As the baby-sitter, I got a chance at motherhood for four short days. A few people who knew I was babysitting P last week asked if this encouraged me to become a mother. My answer: no. Actually, babysitting affirmed my decision not to have kids. Please don't read that wrong because P was an absolute delight to be with. What babysitting has done was once again remind me of all the hard work mothers and fathers put in for their kids each day. P was being a typical 2.5-year-old child and making 2.5-year-old messes and demands. Nothing wrong there, but I just don't want to deal with those messes and demands right now. Little things get to me that prove to me that I'm not ready to be a mom.

For example, I gave P some hard-boiled eggs to eat and he enjoyed eating them with his hands and kind of mushing up the egg yolks. I watched as the yolks crumble onto the carpet and before I knew it, he ran to me and slammed his yolk-encrusted hands onto my shirt, not to mention knocking the wind out of me in the process. He didn't do it to be mean, but he did it because he was just being a happy little kid, I think. I didn't get angry with him; instead I laughed because I knew that's what 2-year-olds do. Nevertheless, before his mom got home, I made sure that we vacuumed the place and tidied up everything that we messed up together each day.

I don't think I could do that every day. I'm too anal-retentive about some things and that wouldn't be fair to my kid. When I learn to let some things go, then that's when I'll know I'm ready to be a parent. Until then, I will enjoy being with kids as a teacher, godparent, church leader, and friendly neighbour.

Ear Candling

2008-08-06T14:27:00.001-07:00

Ever since I was very young, I have had problems with blockage in my ear due to wax build-up. Doctors tried flushing my ears out, but that hurt sometimes, especially when there's so much pressure from the water, which is the idea, I guess. I've had my aunt, who's a nurse, use an ear scraper to clean my ear, but that hurts, too. Too much use of the cotton swabs end up pushing the wax in deeper, so that I would end up flushing out my ears anyway.

About a few months before my wedding last year, I decided to try ear candling for the first time after hearing a few testimonials from friends. At the spa I went to, the Romanian lady that helped me was a very nice and social lady and whose English still needs to be refined. When I asked her what the candles were made of, she said, "Horny bees." I gently corrected her and she repeated "honey" several times to try and get it right. As I was leaving, she called out, "It was very nice doing you!" Ummm...yeah, thanks? But, she was such a sweet person! She told me that I was a very good customer because I chatted with her instead of fall asleep as some other clients do.

It has been over a year since that first experience and I feel like I should do another cleaning, but when I called, the person on the line told me that they stopped doing ear candling services. Since I knew health stores sold these candles, I decided to do it myself. Sort of. I asked my husband if he could help me clean my ears for me since ear candling can be a little dangerous if I couldn't see what I was doing.

$7.99 at the health store in the mall. If anyone knows where I can get them for cheaper, please let me know!

There I am in my pj's. The whole thing is very relaxing and comfortable. All I hear is some crackling noise, similar to what bacon sizzling in a pan would sound like. The plate is put there for safety reasons, but mainly for holding up the candle, so neither I nor D would have to.

The candle gives off a nice honey smell, but it also burns black smoke into the air.

All done! There's a red line on the candle that marks where you should burn up to. You could cut the remainder of the candle open to see the wax, but that's just gross. The Romanian lady did it just to show me that ear candling works.

My God-Daughter

2008-08-03T19:09:00.000-07:00

July 29, 2008
10:32pm
4kg (9lbs)

Melody Anne Elizabeth
"musical, gracious, an oath of God"

[Jesus] called a little child and had him stand among them. And he said, "I tell you the truth, unless you change and become like little children, you will never enter the kingdom of heaven. Therefore, whoever humbles himself like this child is the greatest in the kingdom of heaven."
~~ Matthew 18:2-4

Anger Issues

2008-07-30T22:33:00.000-07:00

This morning on my way to work, I might have seen one of the worse cases of road rage in a long time.

I was approaching the Mission-Abbotsford bridge when an F250 or Dodge truck that was towing a trailer behind it came up behind me fast and started tail-gating me. I wanted to lane change, but I saw a logging truck merging onto the bridge, so I stayed in the left and sped up to 140km (I know, it's so bad of me) to give myself room away from the truck driver. I kind of lost him on the curve, but when we got onto the bridge, I saw it coming up close to me again. This time, I was able to find a spot and lane change to the right, so the truck could pass me. I slowed down to 100km (it's 80km limit on the bridge and highway) and watched as the truck sped away from me. Good riddance...or so I thought.

As I approached a slower car, I lane-changed to the left; there were two other cars ahead of me. As we drove along the bend, I spotted that crazy truck driver again, this time tail-gating a Jetta in the right lane. Either he couldn't get back in the left lane or he had to turn right at the next intersection, but he was following that Jetta at about 80km pretty closely. I passed him and expected him to lane-change behind me, but he didn't, so I figured that he was going to turn right eventually. As we approached the next intersection, I lane-changed in front of the Jetta with about five car lengths between us and I stopped at the red light. Just before our light turned green, I saw the truck driver pull into the right-turn lane and I figured "Yup, there he goes. At least, he's out of everyone's hair now." The light turns green and I began to drive forward. With the Jetta still several metres away from me, I saw in my rearview mirror, the truck driver all of a sudden pull back into our lane behind me. As I pulled away, I watched with bewilderment as the truck driver slammed on his brakes, his front end lurching forward and his trailer swerving slightly to the side. The driver quickly got out of his truck almost as fast as the Jetta driver did and they both ran toward each other. Because I was already driving away on the highway, I couldn't see clearly if they got into a fist fight or just exchanged heated words. I didn't pull over because I was too far away already. I just hope both drivers are ok and maybe one or both have learned a lesson about driving etiquette.

Later today, I was doing an activity with my students on moral dilemma. The world is about to end and we have to choose only five out of fourteen people to start a new world. There were people like a doctor, supermodel, and farmer on the list. After the students had some time to choose their own five, we went through the class and polled who should be saved. When we got to "religious leader," no one voted for this person. When I asked why not, as I did with the other occupations, I randomly picked a hand that went up and she said, "Because there is no God." Immediately, a thick blanket of tension covered the room. Timidly, another girl spoke up to say, "Yeah, I feel the same."

Both these girls are very different from each other, but both have had to deal with their anger in class before. Neither had very good social skills, but both were very, very stubborn when they wanted to be. I had to fight so hard to say, "Yes, there is and He loves you! You only say that because you haven't felt much love in your life and so you think there is no God!" But, I bit my tongue. The reason why there was some tension was partly because Abbotsford is known to be the Bible Belt of the Fraser Valley. Partly, the tension was there because this girl who made the remark is a very strong-headed girl and the other students have either seen or even known her wrath.

Here was my Christian-Teacher response to the class:

"That is her opinion, ladies and gentlemen. Everyone here is entitled to an opinion, but I would like to challenge you to make your opinions educated ones. D_____ has said that there is no God because that is her experience. [I looked over at her and she nodded slightly at me.] I respect that and we all should respect each other's viewpoints. But, do not let only your own experiences dictate what you believe. Find out as much as you can before you make a bold statement."

And then I somehow segued my speech back to the assignment and the tension slowly lifted.

As a teacher, I feel that my role is to direct my students to discover for themselves information about all that they wonder. I will provide the tools, they will have to use them to find answers. But as a Christian teacher, even though I want so badly to tell my students how much Jesus loves them and wants to show them that they and their gifts are so valuable, I have to be careful with what I say to my charges in this politically-correct-crazy society.

At the end of the day, my heart felt so heavy for those girls who claimed that there is no God. I realize that they have so much anger because they do not have the peace that only God can provide. That the truck driver acting out on his anger presents a convincing argument that if there is no God and we are to rely on ourselves to make this world go round, we are in deep trouble. I'm so aware that Christians are not perfect people; that I am subjected to my own temper from time to time, although I'm sure that I've got a much, much better handle on it now than I did when I was younger. But, the peace, the joy, and the calming presence of One who is greater than any trial I have and will face have helped me to discover that life is too precious to waste on being angry at someone or to try to make someone else's life miserable to make mine look better.

Tonight, I have some very specific people to pray for. Do you?

Musings with my Husband

2008-07-29T20:20:00.000-07:00

Before I get to my main topic, I just want to thank everyone who has been keeping my sister in your prayers. She and her team have arrived in China, although they will start their two-week VBS camp at the orphanage tomorrow (or today?) in a little village in Hunan. So far, the only complaint is the heat and humidity. Other than that, A is having the time of her life.

D and I have pretty good chats after supper at the dinner table. This is the time when we do our devotions together (we read from The Message, but we would read the NIV for Psalms because we felt that the NIV is more poetic and less harsh than the Message). Often we go into long discussions before prayer, sometimes about the devotional article and Bible passage and sometimes about other things. Recently, we had a fairly long discussion about the latest Batman movie, The Dark Knight (although this didn't happen at the dinner table). He really enjoyed the movie; I didn't have an interest in seeing it because I can't stomach movie violence. But, we talked about the characters and how they represent certain members of society. Particularly interesting was Joker. D was almost rooting for him because he was such a brilliant character. Or maybe he was portrayed brilliantly by the late actor, Heath Ledger. Anyway, a really good movie often gets D and me talking. Too bad that some of the movies that intrigue me the most, like Momento or The Usual Suspects, kind of gets lost with him for one reason or another and we can't talk much about them.

What are some movies that get you talking?

Another instance in which I "talk" to my husband is in my sleep. True, we don't actually communicate then. Last night, I had dreamt about work and in my dream one of my students kept talking during a test. I leaned over her and said, quite sternly, "You don't seem to understand that you can't talk during an exam!" In the real world, I yelled out the last part, "An exam!" and jolted D out of his sleep. I must've really yelled it out because he knew what I had said. Usually I just mumble in my sleep, but this time, he clearly heard what I said. To top it off, I hit the snooze button on my alarm clock later that morning instead of turning it off and it woke D up (again) while I was in the bathroom. I came back into the room twenty minutes later to find two stuffed animals over his head trying to block out the noise. Good thing my alarm clock isn't very loud.

There was this one time when D accidentally rubbed his socked feet (yes, he wears socks to bed even in the summer time) over my legs. In my sleeping state, I thought someone was clambering from the end of my bed by grabbing onto my ankles and then clawing at my legs to get a better grip up. Immediately, I BOLTED out of sleep and called out, "Who's there? Get out!" I don't think I've ever done that before! D rolled over and kind of realized that he had kicked me, but he was pretty sleepy and before he could explain to me what he thought had happened, I threw off the blankets on my side and peered over the edge of the bed. Then I got out and readied myself to kung-fu anybody lurking in my house. After I searched the bottom floor, I went back upstairs and D finally had the chance to tell me what happened.

I'm glad that I'm not the only one who has a weird "habit" during sleep.

What happens to you in your sleep?

Hubby's Trip

2008-07-25T16:38:00.000-07:00

Every year, D gets to go on a business/training trip, usually to Downtown Vancouver. If he's lucky enough to find a training course offered in the summer, it means two things for me:
1. If I don't get to go with him, it means bachelor food for me.
2. If I do get to go with him, it means big-time shopping spree for me.

When I Don't Go With D
I missed out on accompanying D this year because I had to teach summer school. D tries to cook food for me prior to his trips, so that I would have leftovers to eat for at least the next two days. Unfortunately this time, I had eaten everything he has made before he left, so I ended up not having any leftovers. I don't cook. In fact, I HATE cooking. I don't mind some baking, but I only do some baking when I'm in the mood or when new neighbours move in and I bake cookies, tarts, or cakes to welcome them to our neighbourhood. As a result, from Monday to Wednesday (summer school ends on Thursdays every week, so I took off after work yesterday to come into Vancouver), I had eaten gong zai mein (instant noodles), Zoodles, Mini Ravioli from a can, a Fudgesicle, pizza and lasagna (take-out order with my neighbours) and Cordon Bleus that I heated up in the toaster oven. Don't pity me -- I actually love instant (spicy) noodles and Chef Boyardee stuff, so it's a guilty pleasure that D isn't here because he will usually make healthy, but delicious, food for me.

I barely used the stove; I microwaved almost everything. I had neither 2-4 servings of fruit nor 3-5 servings of veggies; I had one garden salad on Monday, which came with the pizza and lasagna, and a bit of mustard-flavoured store-brand coleslaw on Tuesday. That was my only healthy intake of the week. The fridge had food, but I just didn't want to make anything. Did I mention that I HATE cooking? I'm so blessed to have a husband who enjoys cooking.

When I Go With D
Because I didn't have to work on Friday, I was able to go shopping while D went to his class. I'm not a shopper. In fact, I'm what people identify as a "guy shopper" because I know what I want, I go directly to that item, I purchase it, and I get out. I don't dilly-dally at the sales rack, I don't shift through endless racks of stuffed shirts, pants, or skirts. I don't know how to bargain shop because I shop for and out of convenience. Once in a blue moon, however, I get in the mood to shop, and even then, I find only one or two items and I buy them only because they were a good buy. I knew I would have time to shop today, so I made sure that I was in the mood for it. If I wasn't, I could just duck into Chapters and browse the books to pass my time.

To give you a taste of how good my shopping mood today was, I'll have you know that I didn't even get a chance to go into Chapters before I had to meet up with D for lunch. In three hours, I bought:

3 men's polo t-shirts (2 for $55, one at $32.50 -- RW & Co.)
1 black flared skirt ($48 -- RW & Co.)
1 oatmeal-coloured short-sleeve sweater blouse with a peekaboo-hole in front($28 -- Plenty)
1 burnt orange camisole tank top ($14.99 sale price -- Mexx)
1 polka-dotted mesh robe dress ($99 -- Mexx)
1 black fitness pants ($54.98 -- New Balance)

Total bill = $372.38!

To top it off, I didn't even buy the things I was looking out for, which are earrings, a red necklace, tan-coloured heels, a black purse, and a pair of black casual pants. Rarely, do I ever spend that much, but I figured that since I only do this once a year, $372.38 is actually pretty good. For some people, this may seem excessive. Or it might be chump change for others. I know girls who can easily spend that much each time they go shopping, which is at least once a week. For me, it's difficult to justify spending so much on clothing, but one day of splurging isn't too bad, is it? D has said, on more than one occasion before, that if I was a major spender on clothes, shoes, accessories, etc., he wouldn't have married me. Well, then, it's a good thing I'm not a shopper.

What the Future Holds for These Kids

2008-07-22T15:06:00.000-07:00

My sister has been in Hong Kong since Sunday morning, PST. The following is an update from her China Team Coordinator:

A will be heading off in the next few days to meet up with our team in Hong Kong. Please pray that she will have a safe journey, and meet up with everyone next Monday. From there we will be travelling into China, and working with orphaned and abandoned children at 3 summer camps, most of whom have some form of disability. For many of the children this will be one of the few times they spend away from the welfare centre this year. And for most of the children it's a highlight for them.

A will buddy with a child for the duration of the camp, and spend all her time meeting all of their needs. As you can imagine it's hard work, and prayer for health and energy are essential.

My sister, who worried about her own future, is out there somewhere about to make a difference in somebody else's future. I do not have children, but I cannot imagine abandoning my children. Perhaps, some of those kids have been left alone because of uncontrolled circumstances, but a few stories that A has already told me about her coordinator's experiences working in an orphanage just break my heart. As a teacher, I get the opportunities to make an important difference in my students' lives nearly everyday, but I believe that everyone has the opportunities wherever they are to make a difference in someone's life. I like reading the newspapers and online news stories, but I do find myself getting sad or angry or disappointed when I read about the poor choices people, especially teenagers, make that often cause grief to others. Makes me wonder if somebody took the time to try to make a difference in their lives or if they have not allowed themselves to be reached and touched by grace.

Let us touch the dying, the poor, the lonely and the unwanted according to the graces we have received and let us not be ashamed or slow to do the humble work. If we have no peace, it is because we have forgotten that we belong to each other. ~~ Mother Teresa

Kids, Kids, and More Kids

2008-07-21T17:12:00.000-07:00

Last kid-filled week was very hectic for me. In addition to teaching and preparing for summer school during the day, I have also been preparing and managing Vacation Bible School in the evenings at my church.

For almost two weeks, the summer school students and I have made peace with each other and I had really enjoyed teaching them. Currently, the biggest challenge my students are facing is their inability to cooperate with one another. For example, for the first time in five years of using a customized Jeopardy game to test knowledge of the eight parts of speech, I have discovered that these students don't know how to compromise, share, and cooperate with each other. Even my students with learning disabilities knew how to work together to win the game. These summer school students, on the other hand, either broke down in tears or waged war with each other. Fortunately, a bigger portion of my students understood that the game was a fun way to review and found value in the activity, but I was quite surprised at how some of the students simply refused to listen to each other.

Another case in point: I assigned a group-reading activity for this week. Each group consists of seven students and their mission is to read a story (different from the other groups), complete a story map for the story, and then act out the story for their other classmates. Today, their only task was to read the story and they decide in their group whether to read the story out loud together or to read the story silently to themselves before convening the next day to complete the story map. One girl refused to work with the others in her group and was quite defiant with me when I encouraged her to sit with the group. I told her that she didn't have to read out loud if she didn't want to, but she was still being very antagonistic. Another group could barely talk to each other without gouging each other's eyes out. "Losers!" "Weirdos!" "Dumb-@#%*" were the exchanged words through their tears, fists, and pouts. One group had some gender-tension issues, but at least they were able to separate themselves from their silliness to almost finish reading their assigned story, albeit in their boys versus girls cluster.

In VBS, I dealt with not only a much younger audience, but also a small staff of 30+ volunteers. We had over eighty kids each night and on the night when we had the most kids, we had to make do with the largest shortage of volunteers. It was challenging trying to maintain the kids' attention long enough to say "Jesus," especially in the closing assembly. However, I have to hand it to God to show me just how powerful He is. Despite some "interesting" kids and their very "special" way of expressing how they contribute to VBS, I had really enjoyed my time as director and offered to be director again for next year. Both the senior and associate pastors informally agreed to my offer and so I vowed to start organizing VBS in January 2009 instead of within the last two months when I found out that I was chosen to be director before the program actually kicked off.

I have so much admiration for the parent volunteers who work and support their families and still manage to find time to volunteer at night for VBS. Kudos to them! I was exhausted by Tuesday and Wednesday, but I didn't have a family to worry about (although D threw out his back and had to be treated gently and slowly at home). I'm a little disappointed that not more people could show up to help. I try to understand that everybody has other obligations to attend to, but I look at the ones who could volunteer and wish that if others could try, they would have helped so greatly. Educators and volunteers of other children's programs can attest to what a big difference an extra pair of hands, eyes, or ears can make when dealing with children en masse.

I'm also awaiting the arrival of my god-daughter who was supposed to make her entrance into this world last Saturday, but to our dismay, she's making everyone wait longer in anticipation for her appearance. I'm on standby in case she decides to come out sometime during this week. Yes, I'll commit to going out to Vancouver as soon as I can and drive back for work if I have to.

Added to the Garden

2008-07-12T22:34:00.000-07:00

I've added to my garden:
In case you can't read the names, I've got all perennials: Armeria Maritima (2), Aubrieta, Heather (2), Balloon (2), Snow Lady Shasta Daisy, Dwarf Fleece, and Euonymus Fortunei (2). The Heathers and Euonymus Fortuneis bloom year-round, so even in winter, my house will be decorated with some foliage. Although it's still a very tiny garden, I've learned more about gardening since I started in late May; I have raised the flowers with more topsoil and I've been diligent in weeding around my flowers. I also have two annuals, but they were given to me by my mother-in-law and she doesn't know their names, but the red and pink flowers are starting to bloom!

Other things that are blooming in my life:
- I've been busy buying, decorating, promoting, and registering for VBS, which starts this Monday.

- I went for a job interview for the job I had held for the past ten months; I think the interview went well, but we'll see if I will get re-hired. When I first started this job, it was listed as a temporary position, which is why I've been laid off in the first place. Now, it's listed as a continuing contract, so if I get this job, I could stay in it permanently -- if I choose to.

- Summer school is going well. I was worried because other teachers have warned me about the kind of students I will be getting. Indeed I have one student designated as "Intense Behaviour," but by Thursday, he was actually one of the better-behaved students! I like my class of 21 students and I hope I make a positive impact on them by the end of the summer school program.

- I went to a spa and got my first pedicure! D got me a spa package for Valentine's Day and since the gift certificate expires at the end of this month, I had to get it done this weekend because I have been busy almost every weekend until now and I'll be busy for the other weekends this month. I've had a massage done once before, but never a facial and a pedicure. The facial was the best part, although I went home and washed out the creamy gunk that was put on my face. I've never had a pedicure done before either and what a treat! I chose a nail colour and didn't realize until later that it was called Princess for a Day. I never thought of myself as a diva, but today the nail colour was quite fitting as I felt so pampered and spoiled at the spa today.
This isn't a very good picture, what with the ugly old blister on my right daddy toe and the tan lines, but I think the nail colour stands out -- sparkly pink.

Bzzz...SMACK!

2008-07-03T14:04:00.000-07:00

At a recent Canada Day BBQ with some friends, we played a competitive game involving whacking a whiffle ball at various targets with golf clubs. The team that scored the least strokes overall wins. We had so much fun that we kind of lost track of the strokes each team hit, but we did track the number of times we each got bitten by mosquitoes.

Despite putting on bug spray, we still got bitten and AfterBite can only help so much. I'm also using Benadryl anti-itch cream to relieve the itching. As of right now, D sports three bites on top of his head and a few on his arms. I'm one of those people who react strongly to insect bites, so the bite on my back has welted, as well as the one on my arm. But the bites on the joints are the worse because they swell so much that movement is affected. Every now and then, my ankle hardens and I find it so painful to walk that I have to pause for a moment to "shake" off the numbness before I can hobble around again. (I have been bitten on the knee once and had to be carried in and out of the car because I couldn't bend my knee.) I have already taken antihistamines to ease the swelling; two days later the back of my ankle is still swollen. I discovered that I was bitten twice on the ankle, about 1cm. apart from each other.

Of all the wonderful creatures God has created, why has He created mosquitoes? Beside spreading disease and causing all sorts of problems like malaria, yellow fever, and the West Nile virus, what good are mosquitoes anyway? In my "research," I have found a few good things:

1. They pollinate flowers, which help the environment; at least, the non-pregnant and male mosquitoes do. No offense to my pregnant friends, but it's the pregnant female mosquitoes that are the blood-suckers!

2. They are food for other animals, like bats, fish, birds, which contribute to a natural food chain.

3. They make for good stories. Each of us have battle scars to prove our fight with mosquitoes (some of my mosquito-inflicted wounds last up to a year) and when we begin to tell how we got bitten in the first place, our stories lead to other good stories about picnics, camp, BBQs, drive-in movies, swimming, and on and on. In fact, there is a West African folk tale about why mosquitoes buzz in people's ears and throughout this short story are the underlying cultural beliefs of how animals and their environment affect each other.

See? Mosquitoes are good for something after all.

PS - My sister, who was bitten over thirty times during our cross-Canada trip, loves dragonflies because we found out that they eat mosquitoes. Whenever you see a dragonfly, you can be sure there won't be mosquitoes around.

Some Thoughts

2008-06-29T18:51:00.000-07:00

Last week, I came across letters to the newspaper editors regarding same-sex relationships:

“Contrary to the three letter-writers who expressed their opposition to same-sex love, the Bible does support all love, period. Although we gay people are a minority in the human population, we are still part of God’s good and diverse creation. And all love finds its source in God, our creator. Jesus Himself did not discriminate when he issued the invitation to ‘love one another.’ Since all love knows no boundaries, the heterosexual majority does not have any monopoly on loving.”

“I’m a Christian, and I believe in same-sex marriage. I also believe Christ challenges us to have a personal relationship with God that far exceeds the written word. As Christians, our collective faith needs to evolve as our understanding of God’s love evolves. It’s a cold and lonely faith that lives only between the covers of a book.”

“If people stayed true to Scripture, stoning would still be an acceptable punishment for common misdemeanours. Those who try to introduce scriptural ideas into modern society are trying to set back the progress of mankind. They ignore the facts and logic that now guide the pursuit of freedom, justice, and human happiness as a right equally available to all.”

Of these three letters, the most disturbing to me is the second one. “[P]ersonal relationship with God that far exceeds the written word” has to be the most ignorant comment made by a “Christian.” It's true that having a personal relationship with Jesus is very important, but did John not write, “In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God” (John 1:1)? How can God be separated from the Bible? Perhaps the last line this writer wrote can be interpreted that faith without action is useless, but the Bible is our guide and by it can we understand truth in this turbulent and obviously confused world. Although, I agree that “our understanding of God’s love evolves” as we mature in our faith, our actual faith should not evolve, but rather should stand firm in the never-changing constant on whom we can call Lord, God Almighty.

Sadly, many people agree with the third writer that “scriptural ideas…are trying to set back the progress of mankind.” I’ve heard that argument several times, but I guess when worldly people walk backwards, they think everyone else who are heading in the right direction would be going the wrong way.

At first I was outraged while reading these letters; these people are twisting the words right out of God’s mouth! But, then I must remember to fight the Spiritual warfare with prayer, true godly love, and knowing the Word. I believe that as ambassadors of Christ, if we are to make any difference in this world for His kingdom, we must speak louder than the self-serving individuals of the secular world. Currently, I am reading The Final Battle of the Chronicles of Narnia and Lewis wrote that in 1956. For those who haven’t read it yet, the story makes parallels to false gods that confuse people so much that when presented with the true God, they won’t even recognize Him. Some are even so disillusioned as to quit trying to find Him and instead, turn inward to find comfort and peace. Any wonder why suicide is the #1 killer in BC? Unfortunately, this confusion is still rampant and I believe will continue to be until the day our Lord, Jesus Christ, returns. So, I urge Christians to continue encouraging one another in our faith and not let our foundation be shaken. I pray that the Spirit will give us all courage to stand in the face of opposition, whether it be from our neighbour, colleague, or even grandma.

“Therefore put on the full armor of God, so that when the day of evil comes, you may be able to stand your ground, and after you have done everything, to stand. Stand firm then, with the belt of truth buckled around your waist, with the breastplate of righteousness in place, and with your feet fitted with the readiness that comes from the gospel of peace. In addition to all this, take up the shield of faith, with which you can extinguish all the flaming arrows of the evil one. Take the helmet of salvation and the sword of the Spirit, which is the word of God. And pray in the Spirit on all occasions with all kinds of prayers and requests. With this in mind, be alert and always keep on praying for all the saints” (Eph. 6:13-18).

In Two Weeks

2008-06-21T15:39:00.000-07:00

Since my last post on June 8:

1. Two of my friends got baptized. One of them was even recommended by two of our pastors to follow the calling of full-time ministry. What an honour, even if that might not be the path of his choice.

2. A defamatory article in one local newspaper marred the image of my school and my administrators. The backlash of this article came in the form of overwhelming support for our administrators and a stronger, positive staff culture.

3. The person who gave information to the newspapers confessed to me. We talked about forgiveness and perspective.

4. My sister and I attended her first and my third Cirque du Soleil show -- Corteo. My favourite acts included a human trapeze act (He-Man would look puny standing next to the male performers) and the floating midget. I don't know if that's the PC term for it, but the female midget floated on four giant balloons into the audience. A ringleader encouraged audience members to help her stay afloat and the laughs ensued from her reaction to people pushing her in uncomfortable and sometimes scary ways.

5. During Father's Day, we had dinner at a Chinese restaurant that took too many reservations. Many patrons, including all of us at our table, sat on folding chairs and extra tables, including ours, were set up where there should have been walking paths. The food was good, but I forget how busy Mother's Day and Father's Day can get at restaurants.

6. VBS is looming and I still haven't done a thing.

7. Report cards are finally done. Now on to transition papers, class lists, personal record cards, and inventory while still providing service to my ESL and autistic students. Lately, two of my high-needs kids have been throwing tantrums on a daily basis. The latest one occurred because the teacher wanted to show Shrek 2 in class and since my student already owns it, she didn't want to see it again "because I could watch it anytime I want and I want to watch a different movie!" Spoiled? Not if you're autistic.

8. I've been hired for a summer school position. I struggled with accepting the job, but I was given only one hour to decide. To accept meant increasing my seniority and having income during the summer that I otherwise wouldn't have, except through EI. But, I had applied last month and was rejected two weeks after my application. I changed my mindset to holidaying with my hubby, babysitting my neighbour's adorable son, spending time with my parents, hanging out with my sister before she leaves for China for one month, welcoming my godchild, tutoring, concentrating on VBS, and doing odds and ends around the house. Because this year is the first year that summer school is free, there are more applicants than there are programs, so extra teachers have to be hired and I was next on the list after a few other rejected applicants turned down the offer. It doesn't help that I found out I'll be teaching reading, writing, and math to Grade 6-7 students who have an inner-city mentality. I hate to say that I regret taking the job when I haven't even started it yet, but I regret even more that I'm not very good at saying no to people.

9. My garden grew! This my very first and humble garden. I plan to plant more soon, but I wanted to start small because I didn't quite know what I was doing.

Before (May 26):

After (June 20):

Starfield Part II

2008-06-08T21:21:00.000-07:00

Yesterday, I attended the re-scheduled Starfield concert. Less than a month and a half ago, the accident at their concert occurred and several responses to what happened that night ensued, yet none of the responses were as powerful as the one yesterday.

At the concert, five people who were at the last concert were invited to share their testimonies on stage. Among them was the husband whose wife was the most severely injured that night. Today, she praises God even while she is learning to walk again. Such amazing stories and faith. Most people might think that these survivors stayed faithful despite of what happened to them; I agree and I would like to add that they remained faithful BECAUSE of what happened. God was there. I don't care what others say, but God was there on April 25, just like He was there yesterday, has been today, and will be tomorrow. Just like nearly every disaster out there, people pull together to make positive changes, and if others don't see that hope, then these are the people we need to reach out to. In spite of the hardships and the trials they go through, communities resist backing down and surrendering to pain and suffering. Instead they join hearts and hands to make the world a better place than it was before. Did Satan cause the floor to collapse? I don't think so. In this case, I think God allowed for it to happen not only to test us, but to show us how the children of God are strong and loving, as well as how to serve His kingdom in ways we didn't think imaginable before the accident.

Starfield was absolutely amazing. They managed to get us through the song that was interrupted (they said that some fans had to stop the song before the chorus because it traumatized them), lead an incredible worship to our Lord, and reached out personally to the audience with their humourous memories of song and praise before and after they formed the band. I had really, really enjoyed their concert and wished that the night wouldn't end. Their songs reminded and inspired me to give my life wholly to God.

REMAIN

Defender of this heart
You loved me from the start
You never change

Through the highs and lows
As seasons come and go
You never fail

Day after day
Your love will remain
Faithful and true
You are good

CHORUS:
You are God with us
You're victorious
You are strong and mighty to save
For Your word stands true
There is none like You
And when all else fades
You remain

When troubles come my way
You guide and You sustain
Lead me, I pray

Forever You will be
The great eternal King
Now and always

Day after day
Your love will remain
Faithful and true
You are good

When all else fades
You remain

Cause' day after day
You never change
Day after day
You are the same
Day after day
You remain

Still a City Slicker

2008-06-02T20:41:00.000-07:00

For the last few weeks, I've been trying a new route to work. The back-country way might be a bit slower, but it's quieter because instead of the multiple lanes of the highway, the route allows only one lane of traffic going each way. Usually some other cars would take the same way as I do into downtown Abbotsford. Today, however, my mind was dangerously on auto-pilot and none of the cars ahead of me turned left onto the street that takes us to city centre, so I missed my turn. A nanosecond after passing the intersection, I realized my mistake. Then I figured to myself, I'll just turn left at the next intersection.

The street I stayed on turned out to be a straight-away with farms on both sides for a very, very, very long time. The next couple of intersections would only lead me to barns and ranches. With cars behind me, in front of me, in the opposite lane, and no shoulder, I couldn't find a place to turn around. Stubbornly, I thought to myself that there's gotta be another cross street coming up. Suddenly, the street I was driving on became winding and the farms are replaced by copses of dark leafy trees. Onward I continued, keeping an eye out for the next intersection.

I didn't see the next intersection. Instead I saw a sign:

NOW ENTERING

What?!? I saw where I could make a U-turn (and even if it wasn't a really good place for a U-turn, I was doing it anyway) and while construction workers watched my only sedan among the throng of 4x4 trucks, I swiftly turned around and left Langley in my dust.

I had been traveling on a street I thought I recognized and I stopped a couple of times to consult my Fraser Valley map. The first time I looked, I couldn't find the cross street. So, I continued. Finally, I approached a T-intersection. Right or left? Left or right? Somehow, I don't remember passing this intersection the first time. Please God, show me the way. I looked on the map. If I hit Harris Road, I'm going the wrong way. If I get to Downes Road, I've found my way.

I turned right.

I saw this sign:

Yay!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Well, I was still about six kilometres away from my intended destination, which is WORK, but I was much better off than I was about ten minutes ago. I headed toward something familiar and at long last, ended up at my school's parking lot -- 46 minutes after I left my house.

Goes to show that you can take the girl out of the city, but not the city out of the girl. Going from Vancouver grid-like streets to Abbotsford farmland roads is still a challenge for me, obviously. Hey, when the mountains have always been north for me and now that I live in the mountains, my sense of direction has drastically altered.

Tonight I spoke with my sister on the phone and she is at a life crossroads and unsure of where to go next. She wants to turn left, but not knowing where right might take her. So, she aims for the right, but then thinks she'll miss out on where left could lead her. I didn't have much of an answer for her, but I hope that she knows even when she thinks she's lost, Someone is watching her and waiting to guide her if she asks for directions. God's Positioning System comes in handy when we think we're lost.

Blue: My usual route
Red: My adventure today

Birthdays

2008-05-22T18:57:00.000-07:00

Wow...I just realized that I haven't blogged in almost ten days. My job just sucks up so much of my time and energy. I know I've said this before, but I'll say it again: How do parents do it? How on Earth do they find the time for God, their work, their children, each other, their own parents, their friends, and themselves? I can't even imagine the life of a single parent.

Ay Carumba.

But enough of me whining. The title of this blog is set off by an upcoming birthday. Tomorrow is T's birthday. T is a wonderful and energetic little girl who has a sister whom I will call B. B's birthday was last Saturday. B is also very young, but she is very contemplative and mature for a girl her age. She's not overly precocious, but sometimes she'll say something very profound and while you scratch your head trying to interpret the meaning of what she just said, she runs away giggling or she returns to colouring within the lines of her Hello Kitty picture.

What's special about B's birthday is actually how B reacts to it. B hates her birthday. Why? Why wouldn't a little girl rejoice in her big day, even as her parents, little sister, and friends shower her with love and presents?

B is adopted. At the orphanage, the doctors say one date, but her nurse or caretaker remembers another date. Nobody really knows because her birth parents didn't leave any information about her at all, unlike a few of the other kids at the orphanage. I don't know how common it is for an orphan to not know his or her birthday, but when I heard that B hates her birthday because she doesn't know her actual birthday and even sort of dreads it, I became very sad for her.

Then today, while I was reading the Bible as I prepared for my Bible Adventures class, I came across one of my favourite passages:

Psalm 139:13-14 (New International Version)

13 For you created my inmost being;
you knit me together in my mother's womb.

14 I praise you because I am fearfully and wonderfully made;
your works are wonderful,
I know that full well.

This passage always sends shivers down my back when I think of how intricately I was thought out by God and that He looked at me and said, "Yup, she's just the way I like her to be. She's ready for the world and I will prepare the world to be ready for her."

When I look at B, I see how beautiful and smart she is. I hope she can see that for herself. Her generosity, courage, and determined spirit more than make up for a lack of a technical date of her birth.

For you, the reader, I hope that you appreciate your birthday. Not just with cake or booze or presents or spa treatments. But, to appreciate that this is the day that the Lord has made you and for all the people who love and cherish you.

I thank God for you.

Happy Belated Birthday, B. Happy Early Birthday, T.

Moving Overseas

2008-05-12T18:43:00.000-07:00

Not me, but maybe a friend or two. Recently, a couple of people I know have expressed great interest in moving to Hong Kong to pursue a career. Both of these people say it's because they're bored here. However, both people also say that they are looking for the same line of work in Hong Kong as they are doing here. So, what's the difference?

One of them told me that he was bored of the lifestyle. His workplace is very lax; he can stroll in two hours late and his boss wouldn't care. Sounds nice for some other people, but this friend wants to be challenged. When I suggested that he change jobs, he ended up saying that it's more the people in Canada who have a very different work ethic. To a point, I agree with him.

Unfortunately, it's a stereotype, but it's one that I have found to be perpetuated by the very people it is stereotyping. Once upon a time in my university life, I went for an interview where the business was run by a Chinese family. During the whole interview, the boss talked about the difference between Chinese workers and Canadian (not exactly his term, but for the sake of political correctness, I will say Canadian instead, even though I consider myself "Canadian") workers. He said, most Chinese people work like mad, rarely complaining about their jobs or if they do they persevere. Most Canadians, on the other hand, take full advantage of sick days, family days, vacation days, etc. There's really nothing wrong with that, but according to this boss, they take sick days when they're really not that sick or vacation days because they feel like they "need a break."

At first, I was a bit miffed by what this guy was saying. But, one day I was listening to the radio and the DJs invited anyone who has played hooky to call in and lots of people called and none felt guilty for admitting that they play hooky. Obviously, I can't tell if they're "Chinese" or "Canadian" or "Chinese-Canadian," but it sounds like the "work hard, play hard" motto applies to a lot of the people here; although the term "work" is relative, "play" doesn't seem to be.

So, when I heard that my friends wanted to feel more challenged by going to Hong Kong, I'm not surprised.

My Brain Has Turned to Mush

2008-05-02T22:23:00.001-07:00

Being a transponster hasn't been easy these past couple of weeks. Year-end preparations include several meetings and tons of paperwork. On top of that, I continue to teach nine International students and four Autistic students, plus manage the caseload for my two Physically Dependent students and teach one class of PE.

On Tuesday, I had four meetings to attend, two of them outside of the school. I have written notes, PowerPoint papers, and free manipulatives all over one of the two tables I have in my room.

On Wednesday, I went on an all-day field trip with some of my International students and some of the First Nations students, which was really nice to finally take a break from transition preparations. We went to the Hiwus Cultural Centre in North Vancouver. They were very generous and I think the kids had fun, but next time I'll go somewhere more local and less expensive.

On Thursday, I had two of my Autistic students have a "meltdown," but while I dealt with them in the morning, I had to deal with a potential bullying incident all afternoon for another Autistic student. Thankfully, the bullying incident turned out less malicious than we originally thought and the issue was resolved, but only after separate interviews with nine students. I am incredibly blessed to have two very intelligent and understanding people help me out during all these incidents. Without them, I think I would have gone bonkers.

Today, I spent all day dealing with one of my Autistic students and her "meltdown," but even though the problems ceased by lunchtime, she wanted to stay in my office with me instead of going back to her regular classrooms. So, we set up a little office space in the corner of my room just for her to work in. Then after school, I attended a 2.5hr long meeting for one student who is coming to my school next year. After that, I went back to the school to work until 8pm. And I didn't even get to half the things I was hoping to get done by the end of this week.

Speaking of "my school next year," I may not even be there next year. It turns out that because I started working two weeks into the school year, I missed the full 10-month contract that allows me to go on the lay-off list. It sounds absurd, but I actually want to be on the lay-off list because my current status puts me beneath them. That means, as of June 30, 2008, my contract terminates and I go back to being a TOC. So, my job is offered first to teachers who are coming back from a leave-of-absence, then to teachers on the lay-off list, and finally, if no one on either of those two lists snatch up the job, the job is publicly posted for which I can apply for again. The only question I have now is how much seniority I have now after working nearly ten months at the school district. I'm a little choked because the reason why I started working only after school has started is because the school board office gave my current principal the wrong phone number. So, I had applied for this job in August, the principal called the wrong number more than once, the person he had been calling finally called back to say that he's been getting the wrong person, he calls back to the school board office, the SBO see their mistake and gives the principal the right number, the principal calls me, and I get hired that same day he called. So, technically, it's the school board office's fault that I missed getting on the lay-off list.

Oh well. Actually, I'm in a better position to find a job that I'm actually trained for. Since graduating from UBC with my B.Ed., I have substituted twice for an English teacher in a secondary school. That has been my pathetic experience as an English teacher. However, the wealth of knowledge I gained teaching at an elementary school for kids with learning disabilities and being a Student Services teacher at a middle school is phenomenal and I hope I do get a second chance to work at my current school. This first year was a learning curve; I can't wait to have fun now that I know what I want to do and what I will not do the second time around.

I'm blessed with supporters who have gone to the higher-ups on their own accord to request that I stay at the middle school as Student Services teacher. I'm quite humbled by their advocating spirit. I'm sure the next person that gets hired in my job will be very good if not excellent and I'm sure that God will lead me to another amazing teaching opportunity somewhere else if I don't stay at my current school.

I sure will miss my kids, though.

After Friday

2008-04-28T22:01:00.000-07:00

It is Monday and I still hear, see, and feel the shock of Friday night.

I was a bit nervous joining for worship at my own church on Sunday morning. I stared at our still screen and speakers and intently watch for any shaking. Someone tapped to the music on the pew on which I had rested my hands and I had to remove my hands because it reminded me too much of the reverberation I felt when the speakers crashed down.

When I went to sit in my usual spot, I saw a friend, a young girl who joined our church a little after I did and just because we sat close together, we got to know each other a little bit more each Sunday. The bruises and scrapes on her sweet face told me of her harrowing experience of falling through that hole. It was *only* five metres down, but she said the drop felt like forever. Then other people toppled on top of her and when the three pews fell in after the people, she could only hear the thunderous sound of them landing and hope that none would land on her. Her mother, who wasn't at the concert, received a call from someone telling her that the floor of the church collapsed and her daughter was in the thick of it. The mom reached the vicinity of the church, only to be told that she couldn't go any further and she left her car behind to search for her daughter on foot. It took a while, each moment tightening around her heart, before she was told that her daughter had been taken to the hospital already. At long last, she found her daughter and cried sweet tears only a loving mother would shed after having found her baby alive.

I have heard a few more stories since yesterday and I am always nearly brought to tears when I hear of the close calls. Two of my colleagues attended that church and they tell me that the congregation is worshipping at Columbia Bible College for the time being. One of them has a daughter who attended the concert and was sitting at the pew that was just behind the last one that had fallen in; she was mere inches away from falling into the hole herself. Today, she is still traumatized and loud noises scare her. The other colleague has a husband who works in security and was actually going to be working at the church that night when he became exhausted from having overworked previously and decided not to go. Had he chosen to work one more night, he would've taken his daughter and her friends to the concert and they all would've suffered the fate that 40+ others suffered. In fact, his close buddy who did work as security that night, suffered some major injury to his head and leg because he also fell into the hole.

All these people are good people. Which is why it irks me so much when I read comments on the news sites that reek of ignorance and shallowness. These comments are made by Christians and non-Christians alike. They have turned this event into a public and shameless religious debate that barely addresses the main issue. Some people take this opportunity to openly flame Christians, or more accurately, God. I can only pray for people who make comments like, "God and rock 'n' roll don't mix." S/he didn't outrightly say it, but I think the comment implied that the concert-goers deserved it. I became quite livid with how quickly people judged the church and God and used this to say "See, God doesn't exist." God isn't punishing these people! God is not spiteful! When people bring God to a human level, it just cheeses me right off!

I was actually fuming while brushing my teeth with my new electric toothbrush. I was so angry that I started manually brushing while the toothbrush was on and nearly tore off my gums before I noticed how sore they were and the blood slowly trickled down the shaft of my toothbrush. Then, I stopped and realized how silly I was to get so worked up over this. *Those* people can judge all they want, but the main thing is the well-being of all those who are hurt. As people write scathing remarks on the net, a woman lies in the hospital hooked up to a ventilator and waits for surgery that will mark her either as a paraplegic or a fortunate woman. (Her surgery was yesterday and I haven't heard anything yet about her current condition.)

I'm not sure why God allowed for this to happen, but I know it is not for me to find out, really. It is my job on Earth to share that God provides. He has provided a community that will encourage and comfort each other in this time of tribulation. He has provided quick medical response from Abbotsford and the other municipalities. He has provided. He is enough. I hope one day everyone will understand and accept that fact.

Starfield Concert

2008-04-26T00:48:00.001-07:00

I was very excited when a couple of my friends invited me to the Starfield concert. It was held in an Abbotsford church and when I saw the long line of people I got excited. I was even happier when we walked into the main sanctuary and saw that there were still seats left that gave us a good view of the stage, even though it was the second last row because the place was just packed. The whole front stage was set up in a rock concert fashion. Strobe lights, several spotlights, huge speakers mounted on a large square rack that surrounded the stage. I was pretty excited and couldn't wait for the worship to start.

One of the opening musicians retold the Bible story of three brave men who stood up to a king and was saved from death in a fiery furnace because of their faith. He asks the audience if anyone feels like they are in a fiery furnace. And if we're not, then watch out for that fiery furnace in our life because it will come. Wow...he had no idea.

After the opening act and a 1/2 hour message from a minister, we took a 10-minute break and during this break, over a hundred people went to the front to "mosh" in front of the stage. Starfield, the main group, finally came out to the anticipating and excited crowd. After one song, they began to start another, a much faster paced song. All the people at the front started "head-banging" to the music. Not more than maybe two minutes into the song, I noticed that the screens on the stage were shaking quite badly, but I closed my eyes to get into the song. Apparently, there was a very loud bang, but all I heard was the lead singer shout, "Stop, stop, stop!" I opened my eyes in time to see the speakers and lights rack fall forward into the crowd of people in the pews. Thinking back, I wish I had shouted, "Duck down!" or something like that, but I was a deer in headlights, hearing the screams and gasps of people around me. Almost immediately, people started screaming and crying and lots of people were rushing to get out. Also rushing were people who raced forward either to help or to find their friends. Several people lifted up the rack and I only hoped that all the people sitting there had time to duck under the pews. One of the pews snapped in half, but the rest stayed up, so I hoped they acted as barriers to protect the people. People were shouting at us to leave the premises, so as my friends and I filed out, we saw that one side of the front floor had completely collapsed. When I saw that gaping hole, my thoughts immediately went to all those teenagers who were bouncing up and down to the music. We lingered to see if we could help, but there were a lot of other people closer to the hole and since the structure was so unstable, not too many people could go near it. We also didn't want to be in the way and since we didn't know anyone down there, we left the building.

My friends and I stood around outside and watched as people milled about, some shouting out the names of their friends and family, some crying and comforting others, some without their shoes on and I knew they were one of the unfortunate ones in the front, and some were dazed. I was one of the dazed. It seemed so unreal. And all I could think of was the musician's words: Watch out for that fiery furnace because if you're not in one now, you will be. This was certainly the fiery furnace.

At the time, I was shaken, but not frightened. Of course, I was worried about the people who were directly affected by the crash of the speakers and lights and the collapse of the floor. I knew I would feel the aftershock of this later and I'm right. My hands are shaking right now as I type this and I know I have to remind myself to close my open jaw from time to time because I can still see the scene unfold and hear the singer cry, "Stop, stop, stop!" I can't help, but think that if my sister came to this concert with me, we'd both be down there moshing with the others. Already the news of the accident hit the CBC website by the time I got home at midnight. I watched the fifteen minute footage of the aftermath, but I close my eyes and replays of the rack falling over toward us won't leave my mind alone. That hole in the floor was the worse part, too.

Fiery furnace indeed.

Dear Lord,
I know You hear the cries of Your people tonight. Why did You allow for this accident to happen? What are we supposed to gain from this? In time, I know we will discover the answers, but right now we need Your comfort. Father, I know that it could have been worse and I thank you that most people are safe. Send Your Spirit to comfort us and to give us understanding. I pray that You will be with the hurt ones and heal them quickly, physically and emotionally. I pray for You to provide strength and patience to the family and friends as they await news of their loved ones. I pray that You will be with the medical teams who attend to the wounded and may they be swift and precise as they begin the healing process for the hurt. I pray for the management at Central Heights Church for they will face many confused and angry people, as well as the expenses of tonight's accident. Give them courage, wisdom, and integrity as they deal with this situation. Most of all, I pray that Your Spirit guides us to be patient and not be angry that this has happened. May the faith of all those who attended tonight stand unwaveringly in You despite what happened. And for those who have decided to walk away from you because of what happened will one day come back to You.
In Jesus's Name I pray,
Amen.