So maybe I wasn't so ready

Last week I decided that I was not ready to deal with this. I thought maybe I could, but I was wrong. I had a somewhat legitimate excuse in that I had a big exam today(which, by the way, went horribly, and I was not able to study as much as I wanted to because I had ear tubes put in and I was projectile vomiting for a day), and was hoping to buy some time while I find Tarshish. Unfortunately, just as there are no whales to swallow me whole, there is also no boat to escape on in the middle of Saskatchewan. (Perhaps I should try contacting the Last Saskatchewan Pirate!)

Well now the exam is over, and I am going to spend some time in prayer tomorrow morning. I am going to head over to the prayer room, that way I can't be distracted as easily and try to work through things. I am going to spend some time listening, trying to figure out what exactly God is telling me to do. Am I being sent or just told to love this group of people whose actions (perhaps the people themselves) I despise? I hope for neither, but I know that will not be the case.

I am also hoping that God will reveal some great new understanding of how His justice and mercy work. I don't want to love these people. I want them punished. I don't want to save the perverts I want to save the victims.

I posted the passage from Jonah, but to me this is different because they did not know they were doing wrong. These (insert profanity) must be aware that they are wrong, or they wouldn't have to do it so secretly.

People tell me that they must be hurting, if they are causing others to hurt as well. I don't think I buy that. I don't believe that these people are hurting, I think they are just being (insert profanity).

I try to look at them as creation, not as sinners. But to me they are like bacteria (creation) who become resistant to antibiotics (good), and as such are evil. Regardless of the presence/absence/quality/concentration of the antibiotic, they mutate and develop resistance. Once resistant, no amount of good can change them back.

"It's the sick who need a doctor." But these people are more then just sick. They should be sent to the coroner.

I don't think I have the vocabulary to describe how adamantly against this I am. But I really only have 2 choices. Follow God or walk away.

But Jonah was greatly displeased and became angry. 2 He prayed to the LORD, "O LORD, is this not what I said when I was still at home? That is why I was so quick to flee to Tarshish. I knew that you are a gracious and compassionate God, slow to anger and abounding in love, a God who relents from sending calamity. 3 Now, O LORD, take away my life, for it is better for me to die than to live."

4 But the LORD replied, "Have you any right to be angry?"

5 Jonah went out and sat down at a place east of the city. There he made himself a shelter, sat in its shade and waited to see what would happen to the city. 6 Then the LORD God provided a vine and made it grow up over Jonah to give shade for his head to ease his discomfort, and Jonah was very happy about the vine. 7 But at dawn the next day God provided a worm, which chewed the vine so that it withered. 8 When the sun rose, God provided a scorching east wind, and the sun blazed on Jonah's head so that he grew faint. He wanted to die, and said, "It would be better for me to die than to live."

9 But God said to Jonah, "Do you have a right to be angry about the vine?"
"I do," he said. "I am angry enough to die."

10 But the LORD said, "You have been concerned about this vine, though you did not tend it or make it grow. It sprang up overnight and died overnight. 11 But Nineveh has more than a hundred and twenty thousand people who cannot tell their right hand from their left, and many cattle as well. Should I not be concerned about that great city?"

Jonah 4

But God, these men know what they are doing to these children. It's not like Nineveh, who "cannot tell their right hand from their left." Aren't you angry, God, at what these men are doing?

I'm ready... I think

A while ago I became aware of an issue that I need to work through. I may have mentioned it before in another post. I kind of ignored it for a while as I took a break from just about everything in life to focus on exams. It was a great excuse to avoid that which I didn't want to deal with. Well now I have week until my last exam so I have a little bit of time.
(Not much time though, since I am going to get tooled on this exam and need to study every little bit that I can. I studied for 30-ish hours for the midterm and got a blessed 62%. But my getting lit up in my graduating year is a story for another day.)

The issue is mercy. I think I got the justice part down, well maybe not quite, but more so than mercy. Part of me would like to beat the the disgusting pigs who rape these little girls into a pulp so fine not even their DNA is intact. Now I don't think I could actually hurt anyone since I am the type of person who picks up a spider and takes it back outside. But you know what I mean, this really pisses me off!

But I wasn't saved to condemn others, although that would be a lot easier. It is hard to believe, but God loves these agents of violence and corruption. I wonder how He could. I mean, of course He loves me, what's not to love? (don't answer) How can a Father love someone who is destroying one of his precious children. I just don't understand.

And what is the right reaction? I know what is not the right reaction, beating to a pulp. How does justice and mercy go together? Surely these men must still be punished, they have to suffer some consequence, jail or something? They can't just get away with this.

I am scared to approach God. I don't know if I want the answer, I already know I probably won't like it. And once He tells me I'll have to buy into it. What scares me even more is, what if this turns out to be my Nineveh? Good luck finding a whale to swallow me whole in the middle of Saskatchewan.

This has growing pains written all over it. It will probably be about as pleasant as waxing your armpits.

In the small stuff

While God has not answered what I consider to be my "big" prayer request, which is what this blog has been about, he has been answering the "small" prayer requests. I categorized these things based on the amount of time and energy I have spent praying/worrying/struggling.

He has remained seemingly silent, although things might be going somewhere now, about what I am supposed to do about this conviction regarding human trafficking a exploitation.

But...

He has taken care of the "small" things, which are also the immediate concerns I have with daily life.

I started out this school year, a little short of money to cover the 8months I am in class, only a couple hundred dollars, which I knew I would be able to take care of with part time work over the semester. Well, things came up that were beyond my control, and that I had/wanted to pay for. People who had committed to sponsoring a young girl in the Philippines backed out, plus hidden costs the college didn't tell us about, ended up costing me more than double what I expected/agreed to pay. I couldn't let this girl drop out of college after one semester, she was so excited to go, and she is the first person from he village to go, her education will benefit her whole village. I wanted so much for her to go to college, so I gave the extra money. I also put money into other volunteer/ministry things that I am involved in, and decided to take and extra class to finish my Bible college degree along with my microbiology degree. Upon re-evaluating my financial situation in November I discovered I was a little over $1000 dollars short, that was taking into account the extra money I earned working. Oops! I was okay though, because I still had enough money to live until February and I knew God would provide for me. And he did. I just got a scholarship for $1500 just for being poor. More than enough to cover my needs with extra to go to Breakforth in Edmonton and a few other extras. Just getting the application in was a miracle. Paper work from Canada Student loans that last time took a couple months to get took less than 3 weeks!

Today I just received a card from the doctor saying I have an appointment to get ear tubes put in Dec. 17th. Normally it takes about 6 weeks to get an appointment, but this is only two weeks away at a perfect time between my exams! To make a long story short, I had an ear infection that wrecked my ear and left me with a significant negative pressure balance in my ear. Basically I feel like I am on a plane all the time. My ear pops and hurts so bad when I yawn, cough, sneeze or chew that it sometimes brings tears to my eyes. So I was really scared about getting on an actually plane for Christmas break. It would be double whammy having a negative pressure balance in my ear and ascending into a lower pressure atmosphere. I had postponed making the call because I was scared to get the tubes, until I realized the pending doom. So I called Monday, and was told to expect an appointment sometime in mid January. That wasn't going to help. So I prayed, like a little wussy kid, because I was scared of the pain that I was going to experience flying, and tada! God came to my rescue. It would be even cooler if I got to the appointment and the doc was like "Everything looks normal, you don't need tubes," but I can deal with getting the tubes I think.

What? You mean I don't get everything I want when I want it?

Shocking revelation, I know.

It's been a little over a month now, and I think that I have made some good progress.

I don't think that I want the wrong things, but obviously the wrong time. To expect God to magically give me all the skills that I need to do everything I want in missions is a little off the mark. Especially since I have the resources to gain the necessary skills. Plus that would make things too easy. There is a lot that I would miss if I skipped the learning process (at least that's what I keep telling myself).

I read a quote not too long ago that changed the way that I look at things.

“Those who seek to put an end to sexual exploitation must be as committed as those who are promoting it.”

That sentence has made the last month make more sense to me. It has only been a month and I feel like my level of commitment has been tested, with all the closed doors, wasted hours, and crying. It has made me ask a lot of questions.

Am I really willing to do whatever it takes?

Am I willing to start small, taking little baby steps towards my goal (not sure exactlt what that is yet)?

Am I willing to spend however long it takes to educate myself on the issues, get what ever skills God wants me have, and go where He wants me to go, even if it means not getting into the mission for years from now?

How determined am I?

Is there anything that will make me give up?

I would still love it if God just said go, but he hasn't, and I don't think He will. I still think waiting sucks,but I understand it has a purpose, and that I am not in control. I still scream into my pillow sometimes. And I still wish I could just Rambo the issue.

For right now I have settled for a few specific and attainable goals to occupy myself until God shows me the next step. I want to know as much as I can about the logistics of trafficking. I want to be well aware of the laws in the major countries where this is happening, and what other countries are doing to stop it. I also want to get to know as many people affected by this as possible, by reading their stories and testimonials.

At the moment I have two potential plans for after I graduate this year, both obviously up to God, or neither if he decides on something else.

Option 1: In Calgary there is a group called Servants Anonymous. They have various programs for young women, one of which is a live in volunteer. Basically just a roommate who offers stability and love for a victim of sexual exploitation/abuse. You can check out there website, http://www.servantsanon.com. That would be a minimum one year commitment.

This is what I am leaning towards unless God gives me some radical direction elsewhere.
That being said, option two would be one of those radical things.

Option 2: If God choses for me to be accepted into medical school that is where I will likely go in September. I really am not concerned about what "career" I have, I would be okay with nursing or somethings else. But, the med school application has been a miracle so far, (passing the entrance exam with little/no studying, getting a reference letter mailed from Saskatoon to Edmonton and processed in two days, one of which was a holiday, just in time for the deadline) so I would assume if I got accepted it would be God's intention that I go. Not keen on another minimum 4 years of school, and $100,000 in loans, but whatever.

I would appreciate your prayers as I try to discern what God will is. I have made contact with Servant Anonymous and am hoping to go to Calgary during spring break to meet with coordinator.

P. aeruginosa, burn, ethidium bromide, waiter and other awkward/stupid moments

As you know, over the last month I have not been writing about my usual topics, that is, awkward, embarassing or stupid moments. That does not mean they have not happened. I am still Chantal, and thus plagued with awkwardness and "blondness". So for those of you who asked for stories or are concerned that I am not myself, here is some point form from the last week and a bit.

The following all happened in one day.
- cut myself while making lunch
- in microbiology lab I knocked the lid off a plate of P. aeruginosa and stuck my hand right into the little buggers. This was alarming as this bacteria was a specimen from a gross dirty armpit lesion. I received the necessary first aid, but was not convinced it was sufficient so I washed my hand in a bleach solution (not recommended).
- making dinner. pulled pan out of oven and placed on stove. reach into cupboard above stove. burn belly. uncomfortable for days afterward as it was right where my pant line was. placed bandaid on burn. get allergic reaction to adhesive. awesome.

other moments...
- in class writing notes, girl beside me knocks my mug onto my lap, to tired to respond quickly, watch area of pants get wet, look like i peed myself, walk outside in -35C, freeze
-in micro lab, forget to put my gloves back on, reach into electrophoresis machine to retrieve agarose blot, pick up gel, remember gel contains ethidium bromide (a known mutagen), pray I don't get cancer
- out for dinner meeting at nice restaurant, debating whether it is better for kids to know anatomical terms or words like weewee, or peepee. waiter walks towards us as I say "penis", waiter keeps walking (with strange look on his face)

Aaaaaaaah!

Did you here that?

That would be the sound of me screaming into my pillow because I am so flippin' frustrated. Grrrr! I have pretty much run out of words and resort to simply screaming at God. Part of me feels really stupid because I am close to people who have pretty much been through hell on earth, and are just so happy, go-lucky. Here I am with a little emotional distress and I am freaking out. It's not like people are trying to kill me like they were David when he wrote the some of the Psalms.

One of the hardest things right now is that I don't feel like praying anymore. I feel like I have said all there is to say. I don't know what else to say, and I am sick of not getting an answer. Please don't give me any of the cliché answers. I already know them and they aren't really helping at the moment.

Do think if I went on hunger strike against God that would work?

Or maybe I will just hope on a plain to Thailand and do missions work without him. Yup that would be good, wouldn't? At least I would be doing something.

I would like to say that I am prepared to do whatever it is God wants me to, but that isn't really the case since I hate the fact that I am stuck here doing essentially nothing. I would do anything God asked me too except for the nothing that I am doing right now.

I don't want to come out of this like the Pharisees did the 400 silent years. Missing the boat and not getting the point when He was standing right in front of them. I don't want to go stale and have my faith become nothing more than a set of rules that I follow. Be nice to people, don't swear, don't chase after money, yadda yadda yadda. That's kind of what it is feeling like right now.

I wonder though...
Do I have to wait for God to tell me to go do something? I mean, He's already said once, in fact he's said it a lot. Look after widows, and orphans, feed the hungry, give drink to the thirsty, all sorts of stuff throughout the Old and New Testament. Do I really need to sit here and wait for Him to say something specifically to me? Can I just hop on a plane and trust that He will be with me?

But there is more that I am missing. I don't just want a God who tells me what to do. I want to know my Creator. I feel so weird now, estranged from the one who knit me in my mothers womb.

Enough frustrated ramblings for one night... zzzzz

Now what?

I have been so blessed to have people praying for me. The last little while I have found myself so tired that I almost always fall asleep when I stop to pray no matter what time of day. I really believe that the prayers of my friends and family have sustained me and supported me, especially as I struggle to figure out what is going on. Thank you so much for praying for me!!!

As for this mission of mine, well, I am falling flat. I'm running out of ideas, and sadly, desire. My heart is no less broken for the girls who will be sold tonight, but discouragement seems to be taking the place of determination. What is the cut off point? How many doors have to slam in your face before you give up? This is almost getting ridiculous.

I feel like God has shut, locked, chained and double bolted the door and is on the other side playing really loud music and ignoring the knocking. I do realize this is extreme, it is probably more likey that He is standing at another, open door waiting for me to find Him. But I am without a compass or a sense of direction.

I have emailed and phoned just about every group and organization that I have found. Some haven't replied, most only accept professional volunteers (doctors, lawyers, accountants, etc). I have been blessed with a few friends who have given me "leads", local and international organizations, missionaries who are working in the field. Every time I am excited, thinking this might be it, but end up disappointed and back at the beginning. An international organization, which had a training program on rehabilitation, had its application deadline a week before I found it. One local organization has put a hold on its efforts for lack of funding, staff and general interest. I was given the email address of a missionary working overseas, but she just went on maternity leave.

Now what? Did I miss my chance back, during one of my previous episodes like this? I am fighting to hang on to this passion, but am losing my grip. What if I got things all wrong, maybe I am supposed to be doing something completely different. God must have something specific for me after I graduate in May if He is working so hard to close doors. But what? I realize that God is not bound by time, but does he not realize that I am? And that earth things have deadlines?

???

So I haven't blogged much the last week. That is because I haven't gotten anywhere. I am still a sitting duck. I went through this in August, was in contact with a few organizations and applied to volunteer then for, whatever reason, communication stopped, no one replied to my emails. I kind of gave up, assuming that God was saying no. I prayed about it, and as with everything else the last few months, have gotten no answers. Not a "yes", "no", "wait", nothing. I didn't want to keep pushing it if it was a no.

But there has to be more. I believe that our passions and deep desires of our hearts are from God. If it was no, then why is God weighing me down with this. Maybe I'm wrong, maybe it is not from God. If it was, then wouldn't he provide an outlet, some way that I could act on this desire.

Maybe I should stop wasting my time, and God's, if this is not what he wants for me. But I don't want to give up. I don't want to forget about it, I can't. But how many times have a I tried and gotten no where?

What about persistence? How do we know when to keep pushing and when to step away. I don't want to give up, so I won't, at least not yet. I have applied to volunteer overseas, and am looking into an organization within Saskatoon that deals with sexual exploitation of children. But I don't want to annoy God into giving me what I want.

Excuse me, I need to go scream into my pillow.

Lighten up

Either the events of the last 24 hours were completely coincidental or God decided that I was taking life to seriously and needed some laughs because it has been an awkward/funny day. I guess I can't stay serious for extended periods of time.

I am going to my aunts house for the long weekend, so I thought I would bring a bottle of wine as a "thank you for letting me stay here and eat your food" gift. I am absolutely clueless when it comes to anything alcoholic so I asked my mom earlier in the week what I should get. The only thing that I could remember at the store was something about Australian and cat pee. I wondered around the store looking like a lost duck. One of the employees, seeing me looking at the merchandise as if it was completely foreign to me, came over to help.
"Do you have any cat pee?" I asked.
He looked at me kind of funny and I apologized for my ignorance. After a few seconds he showed me some wine called "cat pee on a gooseberry bush". Gooseberry bush didn't ring a bell, I thought the cat peed on something else and this was from New Zealand, but I really had no idea what to get. Hopefully it's good.

Today I accidentally hugged my instructor. It was weird, but she was female, so it definitely could have been worse. For me hugging is the reaction I have to seeing someone I haven't seen for a while, even if I am not close to them. Well I was walking through the CUPE (university support staff) strike rally, like swimming up stream, and I saw her and she said something and I just went in for the hug. She didn't know quite what to do I don't think. I really don't know her well at all, she is the lab instructor so I see her maybe once a week (pre-strike)...
So I just took a spill because my chair broke, good thing I am a home
Anyway, so yeah, I hugged my instructor and didn't realize the weirdness of the situation until a few minutes after. Oops!

Then as I was walking across the bridge to the hospital I was the victim of a drive by sandwiching. Yes, someone threw a half eaten sandwich at me for no reason. I was just walking, minding my own business when I took a hit from behind and a flimsy cheese sandwich dropped to the ground. What the heck? Who does that?

Then on the nearly empty bus ride home I had the pleasure of having a 70 or 80 year old man sit next to me. He could have sat in any empty seat, but he chose to sit next to me and talk to me the whole way home. I don't mind conversation with strangers, I often talk to strangers on the bus, but this wasn't really conversation so much as it was him making crazy statements and me smiling and nodding. He talked about herds of geese, going to Jim Hortons for coffee, something about Diefenbaker and Trudeau and farm irrigation, terrorism, and a bunch of really terrible jokes that made me laugh, not because they were funny but because the whole time I was thinking "why me?". It got a little out of hand though when he put his hand on my shoulder and asked,
"What are you thinking right now?"
I didn't know what to say, what I was thinking was "Get me the hell off this bus, I am so uncomfortable." Luckily I was close enough to where I lived to get off and walk a bit.

Someday

Sometimes I feel just like
The butterfly inside the jar
I beat my wings with all my might
And though I try, I never get that far
Always up against invisible walls...

Until then I'll trust to fate
And use the time to make my wings stronger
As I press them against the walls of this place
And pray that it won't be much longer
Lord don't let these wings forget how to fly

--Someday--
Jason Gray

Moving forward

I think I have made some progress over the last few days. While I would still like to tear into the brothels Rambo style, and save the girls, God is showing me that is probably not the best thing, for several reasons. At least not the best thing for me.

The Rambo idea would be more a reaction out of anger. Once I got started, there would probably be no end. There is no way that I would be able to save every girl, so the anger would never stop and I would have to keep fighting. I would never feel like I had done anything as long as there were still girls being defiled. And there still wouldn't be any laws protecting future generations.

More importantly, so I Rambo everything and save these girls, then what? They might be free from the brothel but they are not free from the pain and fear. They have physical, emotional, psychological, spiritual wounds and voids. They still have no life, no hope. They don't know how to be children, how to trust and love or be loved.

I found an organization who might be willing to take volunteers. Well actually it is a coalition of about 20 organizations including Justice For Children, World Hope, Stop the Traffik and others. I sent a resume of sorts, and faith statement, yadda yadda, today. I am hoping to go this summer, I don't know for how long, and I don't really care what I do I just want to do something. I've also found a few organizations which offer training courses on helping victims that I am looking into.

The problem...

This isn't the first time that my life has been disrupted by the desire to fight this injustice. For years I have known about the horrible things that are happening in the world. I seem to roller-coaster an awful lot, from being really passionate to giving up and going back to normal life. Up until this morning I had forgotten why had given up before.

There seams to be absolutely nothing I can do.

There is lots of opportunities for law enforcement, doctors, lawyers, accountants, social workers, etc. I am none of these things. Of course there is a lot things I can do here at home as far as awareness, but I am sick of telling people who don't seem to care. And I don't see how that helps the family who is, unknowingly, about to send their daughter with a man who is going to sell her body, or how it brings hope back into the life of victims.

I am not going to give up this time. At least I don't want to give up. I don't know what I am going to do. Right now things aren't looking good, there is just no doors open. I would do anything I could to help, piddly office work, filing, data entry, vacuuming or washing windows. Anything. But it's like I am in a cartoon, where the door has been locked bolted and barred. I don't know why God would give me this passion and then leave me a sitting duck.

What I want (dream about)...

In the little land of make believe inside my head what I really want, what I think about more than being a doctor/nurse, is running through a Thai brothel Rambo style and rescuing the 8 year old girls who are being raped to death. I realize that this is totally not going to happen, and that it is just the little dream world that I live in. But still, there has to be something I can do.

These little girls whose soul has been ripped from their bodies, who have no hope, no faith, no reason to live need to be saved. I would give anything, risk everything to be able to save them, to give them a chance. I cry for them, spend sleepless nights thinking of them, praying for them, some days I am so angry I can't even focus.

For those of you who don't know what I am talking about, it is called Human Trafficking, specifically I am most passionate about the sexual exploitation of young, elementary school aged girls being sold into brothels, the lucky ones might be sold to some pervert to be his personal sex slave. I say lucky because they are less likely to be exposed to the same multitude of diseases, although maybe disease might be preferred so they can die and not endure anymore torture.

Estimates from different sources say anywhere from 700,000 to over a million living, breathing, feeling, humans are sold. Often what happens is men will come to poverty stricken villages and promise families a chance at an education and good job as a domestic for their daughters. These families, in desperate circumstances, send their little angels, princesses, pumpkins, cutie pies, some not even old enough for kindergarten, with these men. They are then taken to other countries, where they are sold to perverts.

The girls maybe locked in a room barely bigger than a refrigerator box or they may be placed
in one large common room where men look at them through a window and chose the soul they are going to destroy. On a good night they may only be raped five or six times, but some may endure as many as 25.

These girls may go months or years without seeing the light of day. They will be beaten both by their owners and the men they "service". They will likely never see their families again. They will be exposed to countless diseases and infections.

I cannot bear sitting here while this is happening. Injustice is not a big enough word. God is pissed. Action needs to be taken.

Check out this little video, there are many videos out, but this is one of the more recent ones that I have found from organizations working to stop trafficking.

What I know (at least I think I know)

I know that I was meant to love. Yeah, I realize that this is stating the obvious for someone who is following Christ but just hear me out. Some people feel closest to God in there prayer times. Some people when the preach or sing they can feel the Spirit moving in them and giving them words. For others seeing nature, standing beside a mountain is humbling and and brings them to their knees.

For me, earth shattering things happen when I am doing what seems to be menial tasks. Love is not always easy, or glamorous or fun, trust me, I know, I work in a nursing home. But it is unique, there is nothing else even comparable . I know that I am meant to love because of the way the Spirit directs me and moves in me.

I volunteer at a youth drop in center in the "rough" side of town. Most days, as I get ready to leave, I have a near anxiety attack because the category of "youth" terrifies me. But I know that God sent me there so I keep going. One day I realized why I was there. I was doing puzzle after puzzle with a few girls that were about 10 years old. They were showing me some that they had finished before I got there, and I was helping them tape them together so they could take them home, wherever that was going to be that day.

Then a little girl, five years old came and stood beside me and looked up at me. I turned to her,

"Hi sweetheart."

She didn't respond. She looked at my hand, then looked back at me for a few seconds. I smiled, and she grabbed my hand. At that moment, I felt the Spirit jump inside of me. When her little fingers wrapped around mine I felt something that is beyond words. I wonder if that is what it was like for Elizabeth when baby John jumped inside of her. Mary came by, with Jesus within her womb, and the Spirit knew it. The Spirit moved in the presence of the Lord.

This child, the least of these, Jesus himself, grabbed hold of my hand and brought me over to the humble little puzzle she had put together. It was on old puzzle, edges were peeling and pieces were missing. I would have given anything to be able to find those missing pieces. But the puzzle didn't need it. It was perfect to her, because she had put it together, all by herself. I helped her tape it together.

As we were closing up shop the man who has been running this youth center told me that she has never done that to anyone. He said she is always very shy, distant, not very social, even with him despite the fact that he has known her since she was born.

Why did she chose me? Why did Jesus chose me? Why should I be so blessed to be accepted by this little angel? The only thing I can do is hope and pray that she felt and saw a little of Jesus in me too.

Where I'm at

I am currently working towards a degree in Microbiology and Immunology. The plan is/was to finish my degree then continue on to nursing or medical school. Then after that go on to do medical missions in developing countries. Nice little plan, eh?

Now, I enjoy what I am learning, but I am not highly motivated to do the work. I don’t really study, and I don't dream about the day when I will graduate and begin practicing as a nurse/doctor. Well, at least not that much. It's not that I am apathetic about the idea, I love the health sciences, and there are so many ways that type of education could be used to serve God. But it is not what I am most passionate about. I haven't been brought to tears in prayer for people needing MMR vaccinations (measles/mumps/rubella). I haven't had any restless nights thinking about those who do not have proper health care. Don't get me wrong, it does break my heart, and I would be honored and humbled if God allowed me to serve him in that way. But there is something else that disturbs the very core of my being, an injustice that I cannot ignore.

Unfortunately jumping into the fight against this injustice is not easy, and is likely impossible for me in they way that I dream about.

TRANSITION

I've decided to change the focus of my blog (along with the colours, don't you love the hippie look!). I've decided to make it my personal journal, a place express myself as my head slips into the back seat (don't worry, it's not totally jumping out of the vehicle) to let my heart take the wheel. You are more than welcome to read it, but it may not entertain in the same way that did before.

I am on a journey right now which may have huge implications on my future direction, or might simply be an over emotional moment in a young womens life. Either or, I want to track my thoughts, revelations and frustrations as I let my passions take priority instead of trying to be passionate about my priorities. I am excited about where God may lead, but also afraid of being led by God. Crazy things sometimes happen when you give him control. As much as I like to think I have given him control, my decisions are still shaped by the culture I grew up in and am still engulfed in.

I will explain further this puddle that I am jumping into in the next few days. I may find it to be deeper than my rubber boots can take. But that's o.k. because I am bringing a snorkel just in case!

In a month I may find myself in the same place I was a week ago, still on the same path I am on right now. Regardless of whether my plans and direction change, I know I will change. Please pray for wisdom, discernment and opportunity as I seek to find a tangible expression of my passions and purpose in life.

BOYS MAY NOT WANT TO READ THIS -- YOU CAN IF YOU WANT BUT DON'T SAY I DIDN'T WARN YOU

Yesterday I woke up in a very confused state. I had set my alarm for 7 am so that I could get some blood work done and get to my lab to check on my tissue cultures before class. When I woke up I forgot why I was getting up so early so I set my alarm for an hour ahead and went back to sleep. I woke up again to find that it was almost 8:30, I wondered why my alarm hadn't gone off the second time. I turned on my radio then realized why I wanted to get up so early...

"Ah shout! I was supposed to go piss in a cup!"

Oh well, not going to make it now. I listened to the radio for a while, then the newsguy said something about 7:30. What? I looked at my clock again; it was 8:30. What the heck? Then I took a closer look at my clock and realized that I had set the time and hour ahead, not the alarm. So it was 7:30, that's why the alarm didn't go off a second time and I had still had time to get to the health clinic. I rushed to get ready, but not quite fast enough. I missed the bus that would have gotten me there in 10 min. It was faster to walk then to wait for the next bus, so that is what I did. I got to the clinic and they sucked a ton of my blood then gave me a cute little cup with a pink lid on it. I walked shamefully past all the people waiting in the waiting room and went into the bathroom.

I totally didn't have to pee. I just went like 45 min ago when I got up. I was determined to get this over with. This bathroom was small and I knew it was colonized to the nth degree with all sorts of bacteria. Considering it is used by people who are collecting urine or stool samples and knowing that only a small fraction of the population effectively washes their hands, I estimated this bathroom to be one of the germiest places on earth. There was no place to hang my sweater, or put my back pack or even place my cup while I prepare for collection. So there I was trying to balance without touching the seat, struggling to hold up my sweater, open up the cup, hold the lid and collect. I dropped the lid on the floor, so it was definitely contaminated, but I had gotten this far already, I wasn't going to quite now. The results will probably come back saying I have some horrible disease.

So I'm in my ready position, and try as I might, I cannot whiz. I pushed so hard I thought I was going to deliver my bladder.

I managed to complete the ask at hand, then I had to walk shamefully past all the people waiting again, carrying the specimen, and place it in a discrete white basket labeled in large letters "URINE SAMPLES" which was sitting right on the front desk.

BLONDE IN A FORMER LIFE PERHAPS?

In an effort to maintain good physical and mental health in the midst of all the things that I do I have set guidelines to indicate when I might need to slow down and take a break.
Here are some of these parameters...
1) Losing weight (definite no-no, I already look like a pencil in toothpicks)
2) Insomnia
3) Any sign of an anxiety attack
4) More than 2 blonde moments in a 24 hour period.
etc..

Late last week I managed to break #4. These moments of tremendous stupidity are as follows:

a) I mailed a letter to myself. It was late at night and this letter said "mail to that address at the top of the page". So I mindlessly copied out the address in big bold letters at the top. This was however my own address, which I didn't recognize at the time.

b) It was friday night and I thought that it was saturday. Work called to see if I could come in the following morning.
"No sorry, I can't I teach Sunday school."
"Uh, okay." She didn't sound like what I said made sense, but it did to me.
I hung up and not until the next day did I realize what I had done.

c) After a nice dinner out I shared dessert with my family. I took a big spoonful and blew on it to cool it off. Completely unnecessary considering it is ice cream cake.

So in light of the preceeding events, I am taking a few hours this evening to do nothing, to be completely unproductive. I am not even going to knit or bake cookies! Hopefully my intelligence will rebound for the rest of the week.

RANDOM

I am currently waiting for my class notes to download, so with nothing better to do, I thought I would post some random stuff. Sure I could be studying, but that's not why I am paying $5ooo in tuition. :)

I think i may have broken a $800 dollar pipette in my micro lab. I thought I was smart and could adjust the thing myself. And I did, I figured out how to change the aliquot volume. Unfortunately, after I had done that, the TA gave the pre-lab lecture, which began with "How not to change the volume." I did it exactly how you are not supposed to do it. And it is quite difficult to actually test these things because they measure like 1/1000 of a mL. Stupid arrogant scientist thinks she can do anything.

I also wrecked something else this week. I don't want to say in case the person whom it may affect might read this. I've tried everything I know how to fix the stupid thing, but I can't. And nobody else I know can fix it either.

Quotes that make me smile (or laugh out loud)...

"Why do things that happen to stupid people always happen to me?" -- Homer Simpson

If a man speaks deep in the forest and there is no woman there to hear him; is he still wrong?

The sooner you fall behind the more time you'll have to catch up

A conclusion is the part where you got tired of thinking.

7UP + SPICY FOOD = ???

So I was at the family's home yesterday to help with braille and some computer stuff. They asked if I would eat with them, I wasn't hungry but they insisted, so I thought I would have a little bit. I sat down at the table where they had waiting for me a big plate of rice with some green leafy thing and some omelet type thing. There was also a bowl of some sauce I was informed was to go on top of the rice and leafy thing. A mixture of fish paste and chili pepper I think they said. No big deal, I like spicy food, I have a friend from Bangledesh who shares her food with me. It's really good. The fish paste I wasn't so sure about but whatever.

Aside from the fishy taste, it was really good, it was spicy but not too bad. A glass of water would have been nice. Just as I thought that they brought a glass to my place, I was hoping for water but they poured me a glass of 7-up. Not exactly what you want to sooth the burn in your mouth, but I didn't have anything else. As soon as the first gulp of 7 up reached my stomach I knew trouble was brewing. But I couldn't just leave half a plate of food. They do not waste anything! So I continued to eat and drink, every bite bringing me closer to disaster. I had felt sick after a meal at there place before but I managed to keep it together. This time however it felt like my stomach wash unleashing the wrath of a thousand volcanoes. With about a handful left in my plate I planned on shoveling the rest down and then dashing off as if I were late for something.

With about 3 spoonfuls left my hole body heaved as I tried to contain the fury within. I think I pulled every muscle in my torso. Thank goodness the father couldn't see me and the rest of the family was in the other room. I was not going to make it. I had to run lest I blow chunks all over their dinning room table. I couldn't even open my mouth to excuse myself or say goodbye. I pointed to my watch trying to convey that I was in a hurry and went to grab my purse. In typical Chantal fashion, I couldn't remember where I put it. I had to search for it while trying to hide the fact that I was exploding on the inside. I found it and calmly left the apartment. As soon as the door closed I booted it outside. I just made it to the parking lot when my esophageal sphyncter decided it could hold on no more. The contents of my gut went from stomach to mouth at mach 1 and I vomited with such force there was kick back.

The projectile traveled quite a distance. I hope they didn't see or hear me. I quickly got into my car, and drove home with my face in a plastic bag just in case. I got home, where I lied down to study for my midterm. Unfortunately I was studying all about digestion and the churning of my stomach. Not helpful. I was just glad that the fire had burned down by the time the remaining dinner reached the other end.

ARE YOU FLIPPIN' KIDDING ME?

I am currently to angry to study so I thought I would vent to make me feel better. So here goes...

I am yet to get a good nights sleep since school started. Granted it is sometimes my fault staying up to late doing homework, but even when I do go to bed early I have trouble sleeping and wake up several times in the middle of the night. Well, Sunday I think it was, I was in bed the earliest I have ever been in the last month. And work phoned at 11:30pm and 4:00 am asking me to come in. I have school for crying out loud I can't skip class for a job that pays me $9.50! I am getting really annoyed because they have done this several times. The schedule says that I can't work week days. Grrrr!

Yesterday, when I showed up for my micro lab the instructor says that it is going to take until about 7pm because there is 40 students and three bloody microscopes. So I can't go home while I wait because I will lose my place in line. And I am flippin' starving because I missed breakfast and I had class all morning until the lab started at 1:30. Then I had the unfortunate experience of having good results which meant that I had to count over 7000 stupid heamolytic plaques. I'm still seeing spots man. Those microscopes are like looking into the sun. My retinas are burning!

Today after class I went to ask one of my professors a couple of questions about the material before the midterm and he flat out refused to help. He gave like a ten minute speech about why he refuses to help. And he had revolting breath. I followed him all the way to his office, got shut down and trying not to cry, I have to listen to him while he breaths death breath right in my face.

Ooh, gotta run to class!

FACEBOOK

For those of you who read this blog religiously, (Carissa!) I apologize that it has been so long since I last posted, but I am ridonculously busy and the only reason I have time right now is because I am meeting a friend in 15min and that isn't enough time to start my calculations or figure out monoclonal selection theory.

So I joined the phenomenon known as Facebook a few months ago. I'm not really a big fan of it, but it has become one of the most commonly used methods of communication, at least with my friends so I deal with it. But really, I live in the same flippin' city, call me! It's free for crying out loud! Do you not possess the social skills required to make a phone call? Heaven forbid you actually have to talk to someone and carry on the minute conversation required to make plans for the weekend. And do I really need a list of people whom I have come across at some point in my life but will probably never talk to again because we were never actually friends in the firs place?

Anyway... as I was saying I don't really care for Facebook in general, but one thing that does provide some entertainment is the "Groups" application. There are some rather hilarious groups you can join. One of my favourite groups, where I actually felt a strong sense of belonging and being understood is titled, "Awkward moments define my life". I have considered creating a few groups of my own, however, being as busy as I am, I don't have time to actually go through the process. Perhaps if any of you have the time to create the following groups send me an invitation.

My life feels like an awkward teen romance movie

I went to the grocery store in the middle of baking a cake and forgot to take off my apron

A guy used an english translation dictionary to propose to me

Recipients of unwanted lovey-dovey eye looks

I sat in a broken chair and fell over backwards in a large class

I have sneezed and blown snot out of my nose during an exam (and it was still attached in my nose)

I have fallen asleep in class and drooled on my paper

Idiots who have posted on their own wall in reply to a message

OFF TO A GREAT START!

I have been extremely busy the last couple of weeks, it is 10pm and I am just now sitting down for supper. I think blogging is definitely going to take a back seat until I can catch up with life. But I have been having such a great first week of school I had to tell you. In order to keep this post relatively short I will just tell you about the last two days in point form. Here goes...

MONDAY
- up at 6:30 to get to school by 7:45 to do IVCF stuff (only 4 hours of sleep)
- running late, can't find bus pass, frantically searching for pass or enough change to catch bus
- 1st class: printed notes for class but forgot on desk at home
- 2nd class: WTH? Totally lost
- 3rd class: prof late, then talks so slow that by the time she finishes a sentence you forgot what she was talking about
-12:30 accidentally double booked myself so I had to tick off one of my friends
- 1:30 GOOD:got ride from friend home (no bus pass), BAD: tea spilled all over me and books/notes
-6-11ish work on flyers for IV to hand out at display table
- 11ish-11:23 print flyers
- 11:24 run out of ink
- 11:25 cry for a bit
-11:40 move onto homework

Tuesday
- 8am run to staples for ink
- finish printing flyers and go to school
- find out display table not reserved, none available until next week
- half flyers now obsolete as they advertise this weeks event
- 1st class: unprepared b/c I was making flyers all night
- 2nd class: misread room change, sat through psych instead of nutrition
-1pm told that the room booked for 24-7 prayer we can't have anymore, the other half of flyers now obsolete
- want to cry but can't b/c at school
- 1:30 lab, had to kill then remove spleen from a poor little mouse (comparatively I suppose my day was better then his), this was hard for me, I almost cried a couple years ago when I accidentally squished my amoeba

CAN'T KEEP A STRAIGHT FACE

So here is more of why I am not a responsible care taker of children.

I often laugh at things they do or say, not because they are funny, in fact most of the time they are not appropriate, but because that is just my response when I am caught of guard. And sometimes they are funny because I have no class.

So we are sitting at lunch and this one little guy lets the biggest, funniest fart rip ever. I considered checking his pants. It was absolutely hilarious. All the kids were laughing, but we are supposed to teach them good manners. As the teacher I am supposed to a) not laugh, b) quiet down all the kids and c) teach the boy that flatulence is not welcome at the table. I didn't even make it past the first step. And all the kids noticed. I was tearing up trying to stop myself from laughing while the other teacher had control the situation all by herself.

On a similar note, another little guy is just potty training. Apparently going #2 is very awkward and uncomfortable for them on the potty so it is common for kids to try and hold it in. This, as you can imagine, can cause some serious cramps. This poor boy hadn't gone for days I guess, and was complaining of a sore tummy. We had put him in a pull up (side note: pull ups are the stupidest things in the world, just buy regular diapers for crying out loud) because we went to MacDonalds and it is too hard to deal with partially potty trained kids in a restaurant. We noticed him walking funny on the way home and guessed what had happened. I was the lucky one who got to changed the poor guy. He looked so embarrassed and worried about it. I brought him into the bathroom to change him. I partly opened just one side of the pull up to check the deposit and it spilled out. He was overflowing with excrement. Down his leg and on his new Spiderman underpants. I felt so bad for him, he was so traumatized by the situation. It didn't help that one of the other kids was pointing out that there was poo on his wiener and pants and on the floor. I, not knowing what to do, and finding it hilarious that I am the lucky one who gets to clean this up, chuckle as I am trying to assure this child it is okay and get the other to stop pointing out what a mess this is. I don't think I was very reassuring.

Sometimes I just don't know what to say. I think there are times when there is nothing you can say. One 5 year old told me as I was monitoring the bathroom,
"Sometimes when I poop my eyes cry."
How do you respond.

Lastly we will leave the bathroom to the art room. Everyone had to draw a picture for a kid who was leaving at the end of the month. One boy decided to draw a picture of people. I asked what he was drawing for the sake of conversation and without skipping a beat he told me,
"It's a person, with a head and legs, a belly button and boobies."
"And what?"
"A belly button adn boobies."
Sorry, I couldn't hear you the other kids are being to loud. What was the last thing you said?"
"BOOBIES!"
I tried to hide a little chuckle, I was shocked that this kid knew what boobies were. He's a preschooler for crying out loud.
"Uh, that's not a word for daycare. I don't want to hear it again."
"Well why did you make me say it three times."
Smartass

I WAS ONLY SAYING IT BECAUSE IT RHYMED

So I was changing a little boy's diaper at daycare yesterday. He's almost 2 years old I think. Absolutely adorable. At the age where he loves to repeat everything you say, so he has picked up some of my standards, like "Whoopsie daisies", "Oh golly", and "Okey dokey Smokey". He loves that last one, I think because it rhymes. Because of that when he starts to get cranky I try to connect a string of words that rhyme. Well, while I was changing him he got a little upset because the baby wipes were cold. In keeping with the spirit of rhyming, I said,

"Oh dear, chilly willy eh big guy. Chilly willy."

I think I got that from the penguin cartoon that played after Woody Woodpecker. But it rhymed and made him happy so I repeated it a few times. And bless his little heart, he repeated after me, and now associates having his diaper changed with a "chilly willy". Hope he doesn't say that in front of his parents.

Whoops!

WHAT A BLESSED MORNING

So I realized that it has been quite some time since I blogged, lots has been going on but I just haven't really felt like blogging, or had the time to do so. Sorry! However I did feel compelled to share with you what a wonderful morning I had.
Last night I set my alarm clock for about 7:30 so that I would have time to throw in a load of laundry and call Kim before church. Well I set it for 7:30... pm. Fabulous! Sorry Kim, I really wanted to talk to you. I woke up at 9 which is still plenty of time for me to get ready and be at church for 10. I left home at my usual time and made my way to church.
I must say I was looking pretty darn good! I even wore high heels. Woo-eeee! This turned out to be almost tragic. On my way to church, driving about 60km/h (within the speed limit) the truck in front of me slammed on his brakes. I was a good distance behind him and went to hit my brakes too but my heel got caught in the mat on the floor of my car which meant that when I got a foot ont he brake I really had to slam and swerve not hit the truck. I almost soiled myself. I was absolutely rattled!
I pulled myself together and continued on to church. Traffic was backed up so I was now late for church, which I really hate. When I made it out of traffic and onto the ramp to go north I was going a little faster than necessary to try and make up for time lost. I turned right off the ramp and around a fallen construction fence type thing then back into the right lane. As I went on my way I hear the sound of scratching metal. I looked in my mirrors but didn't see anything. I decided to pull over on the next turn. When I get out of my car I find the that I didn't actually clear that construction fence and it was tangled under my car. In the words of my friend Twyla, it was like when the car version of when toilet paper gets stuck to your shoe. I estimate it was about 5m long and included a 1.5 meter metal bar. Splendid!
From the standing position I tried to pull but with no success. I had to get down on my hands and knees in the grocery store parking lot , while in my sunday finest, and untangle this thing. It is very hard while wearing a skirt, to be a lady on a windy day, when you are on your hands and knees reaching under a very low car. I had mud all over my arms and face and knees. On the up side I managed to keep my light pink skirt clean. After I untangled the bugger I was remembered my camera was in my purse. I am already late for church, might as well get a quick picture.

You can't see all of it in this pic and the metal bar isn't visible. What a great start to the day!

WHAT'S WITH KIDS THESE DAYS?

So I decided I am not responsible enough to care for children. I can play with them just fine, but I do not do a very good job of being an adult. Wednesday was kind of the final straw in coming to this conclusion. I sent two kids flying off the merry-go-round at work, a 2.5 and 4 year old. And I mean flying. The younger of the two must have gone at least a meter. It wasn't totally my fault. They saw a bigger kid jumping while he was on so they thought they could do the same. Although I probably shouldn't have spun the thing so fast.

I was told by a 6 year old on Thursday that I needed to shave my armpits. Thanks.
Later that day I sat down to play some cards and this one little 5 years old boy sat down to play.
"Uh, gross, your hands are all dirty." The girls said to him.
"Well duh. I am a man, my hands are supposed to get dirty."
It was too cute. 5 years old and he thinks he's a man.

On Friday I sat down at a table with a group of girls that were making purses out of paper for a special game. I thought they would have a tea party or play shopping. I sat down and made one too. Then they started making pretend cell phones, Blackberries (or Blueberries what ever those things are) and special "identafecashen". I started to get concerned. I think these kids have workaholics for parents. They finished and prepared for their game. You know what they were playing? Bet you can't guess.
The were playing entrepreneur. What the heck. I didn't even know what that meant when I was 7 let alone devise a game. My goodness! I ended up having to console one of the boys because he got fired. Watch Apprentice much? Gee whiz.
Later I was playing a mini billiards game with one of the girls. We kept getting interrupted by her pretend cell phone ringing. Are you kidding me?

I am terrified to see what these kids are like when they grow up. Someone needs to throw them in a mud puddle so they can learn what being a kid is all about.

WEEKEND WITH THE FAM

Took the weekend off work because my parents came to visit. It was nice to not be working and to see my family. We went to my aunts house in PA and I got to go to the lake for the afternoon. I had a wonderful time sitting by the dock reading the Word and eating rice cakes with the ducks.
I had a really good meal and then we all took turns jumping on my cousins trampoline.
In that Last one it appears as though my aunt is checking to see if my mom soiled herself.

Later in the evening I tried my hand at archery.
Ooops! Hope that wasn't an expensive bird feeder?
In my defense the bow and arrows are made specifically to fit my cousin.

MCAT DAY

So I wrote the MCAT today, medical colleges admissions test, even though I don't think I am going the doctor route anymore. I actually rather enjoyed it. I enjoy writing test, loser, I know. It was not the 6 hours of torture that everyone claims it is. Maybe it's just my personality to not get stressed out, or maybe the fact that my life does not hinge on me becoming an MD.

I was expecting Murphy's Law to haunt me like the Bubonic Plague today, like it does on many important days. It didn't. I experienced only mild effects. Perhaps there was a person, a halogen to my alkali metal in regards to electron affinity (I studied to much chemistry), who was exhibiting a stronger affinity for Murphy's law than I.

I encountered only two set backs. The first occured in a mad rush to take a leak before the exam started. I raced to the bathroom got in the stall and ... drum roll please! I fell into the toilet. Yup, genius, I know. The seat wasn't down and I was in such a hurry that I didn't look or squat so in I go! I was about 25% laughing, 60% absolutely horrified, and 15% mad that God hadn't dropped a Chemistry or Physiology major in there. Nope, He dropped a Microbiologist. Come on! I know what's in there, I really didn't need to experience. Oh well, so I am shedding tears of disgust and I don't feel comfortable for the rest of the day.

During the exam, after I had just read a really long chemistry passage the power went out. Our answers were saved, but it took about half an hour to get it running again. By that time I had forgotten the passage and had to re-read it which cost a me a few minutes. I didn't finish the last few questions.

I also discovered that I should have taken anatomy an physiology prior to the MCAT. The essays gave me a fair bit of trouble. They give you a statement and then you have half and hour to write a "unified essay" (whatever the heck that means) explaining what the statement means, giving an example of when the statement is invalid and explaining what determines if the statement is true or false. In one particular question about business and marketing I totally blanked. You know those moments when the hamster dies and the wheel just stops turning. So I wrote, in my Medical College Admission Test about power tools, specifically a belt sander, power drill and air compressor. What!?! It's all I could think of, and you don't really have much time to think so I just went with it. I also made mention of a futon and vacuum. 100% I can just feel it!

Oh well, whatever. I am just happy that I can do things and not feel guilty about not studying anymore.

JUST A NORMAL DAY IN THE LIFE...

So yesterday on my way to work (I walk to work) I was behind some old lady that appeared to be in her sixties. We were walking in the same direction, she was only a couple meters ahead of me. She looked back then started walking faster. She looked back at me again, kinda scared looking, and started walking even faster. This happened several times, but I was in a hurry and am generally a fast walker anyway so I was always right behind her. She looked back again and stopped,
"Why are you following me?"
Are you kidding me, I don't have time for this, I'm late for work. Whatever.
"I'm not, this is the way I walk to work. If you are more comfortable I can walk ahead of you."
"Oh, I guess you don't look like a bad person, carrying that back pack and lunch bag. Sorry, it's just that I am from the big city and I am kinda suspicious of people. blah blah blah"
"That's okay." I told her trying to walk away politely.
She then proceed to tell me her life story, all about her mothers mental illness and how her sister inherited it. Are you sure you haven't inherited some mental illness?
How can people tell a complete stranger such personal information. And why me?
Anyways, I made it to work on time where I acquired a fat lip trying to hold down a kid who was having a temper tantrum.
That made the dentist really fun today.

LOSER, YES I KNOW

So I have posted three times tonight. Lame, yes it is. But I needed something to do while I waited for my toenails to dry. So one last thing to tell you before I go to bed. Tonight while flossing my teeth I managed to yank out my "permanent" routainer. This thing was basically just a wire cemented across the back of my teeth. When I had it "fixed" a few weeks ago the women put too much cement so that it blocked the space between my teeth. As I was trying to bring the floss through the space I ripped the sucker right out of there. It was mildly unpleasant but I am more concerned about finding the time to get back into have it fixed again. It is much easier to floss now that it is gone though.

Here is a pic of my toenails. Please no comments about my long finger toes or the fact that I have hairy toeknuckles. I already know so there is no need for anyone to point that out.


Goodnight

TOO CUTE

Working at a daycare I receive artwork from the children on an almost daily basis. It is usually just a bunch of scribbles or cut up chunks of paper, which is exactly what this one is. This one was a little extra cute though because it is an invitation to come over to a 3 and a half year old's house for a chocolate covered granola bar. This little boy always has one for breakfast at the daycare and I always tease him, pretending to eat it, telling him how lucky he is to get chocolate for breakfast and saying that I wished my mom would give me one to take to daycare. What a sweetheart.

GOODBYE OLD FRIEND

I am saying goodbye to a dear childhood friend of mine. A white dresser with decals of fluffy bears and bunnies. It's been around since I was very young but the time has come to pass it along to someone who needs it more than I do. This person happens to be an adult so this weekend I will be sanding away the childhood emblems and painting the old dresser.


Fairwell happy friends!

PROPOSAL AND DEATH THREAT ALL IN ONE DAY

So I had a pretty fun weekend. Saturday I worked at the old folks. It had been two weeks since I had a shift there so I was excited to see my old people. I have been having such a wonderful week, and I was so thankful to God for having a summer job that I love.

I wasn't at work half an hour when I was taken away from my regular duties to clean up after a man who had the stomach flu. I won't describe the mess incase you have a week stomach. Just trust me when I say it was big and gross. So that took over an hour.
"That's okay," I said to myself, "I still love these people and my job."

To save time, I'll spare you the details of the rest of my shift, but it included the tub flooding the bathroom and having to clean up a puddle of blood from a women who got a cut on her leg.

Sunday, I went to church as usual. After church I visited with the refugee family that my church sponsored. I have been aware for about a week that the son has a crush on me. I was not prepared for what happened yesterday. TO make a long story short, I think he may have informally proposed, or maybe it was formal for him. I don't know. I also don't know if he understood me when I was explaining that things in Canada are different and that the answer was no. Judging by his reaction, I think he just thought that I didn't understand what he was asking me. So now that's going to be fun to clear up. What make this funnier is that when I first found out that there was a son that was my age (before the family arrived) I told the group something like this might happen. I told them I was nervous about it but they all reassured me that such a thing wouldn't happen. Well now look at this mess.

Later that day I worked at the old folks home again. Another "I love my job" kind of days. When I tried to get one of the old men to bath he told me,
"I will lock in the basement and there you will die. I will make sure you are dead. etc."
What a nice old man. Isn't it nice when you try to help somebody and they utter death threats?
I wasn't afraid and it didn't hurt my feelings, I just didn't know what to do with him. He shouldn't be talking to anybody like that. But how do you discipline an 90 year old man

"Let me show you how to pee."

Today was yet another wonderful day at the daycare. Full of laughs and frustrations, but mostly laughs today.
The best was this afternoon when I was doing potty time with the kids. The kids are 2-4 years old so some are potty trained some are not, most are somewhere in between. I was helping a 3 year old boy go pee. He can use the potty but where's a diaper because he often has accidents. Here is how today went.

"Come here kiddo, I'll take your diaper off so you can pee-potty" As I start to take off his diaper.

"No, no, no," In his cute little East Indian accent. "Let me show you how to pee."

"Oh, okay. You can do it yourself?"

"Just watch, I will show you how to do it"

This should be good I thought. I was not disappointed.

"First you reach down and take out your sprinkler."

I was tearing up trying to hold in the laughter.

"Ooh, my hands are cold. Then you poke it out the top and tada!"

It was hilarious. He was moslty right. He forgot that you have to hold your "sprinkler" so that it actually points into the toilet. He just let it hang there and peed down the front of his shorts. That's alright, I didn't mind cleaning it up after the entertainment he had provided me.

Hello, my name is Chantal.
I just learned Braille! I can read
by sight but need more practice
feeling it out.


So yeah, as you can see I learned braille. Sorry it is kinda messy, I should have spaced it out more. Sorry the pic didn't turn out very good.
I am so excited because now I can help the father in the refugee family learn more english.

SOMETHING FOR THE INNER NERD IN ALL OF US

Saturday full moon.

FAT AND HAIRY

A little boy at work so kindly pointed out that I have a mustache. What a little sweetheart.

The cake didn't work. But I managed to make it into something useful. The cake tasted great but just came out of the pan in chunks so I made a different dessert for an informal potluck on Friday. I cut the chunks into small pieces, mixed chocolate pudding and cool whip together then added mini marshmallows. It tasted not too bad and I got a few compliments on it.

Anyway, I went to visit the refugee family on Thursday evening without a cake. I think it was okay, they seemed to appreciate the visit. They had several other refugee families that live in the same building all crowded into their apartment. It was wonderful, kids running around laughing and they were showing me a bunch of their stuff from home. One of the girls had hand woven some shirts and she gave one to me. The first one I tried on didn't even fit over my shoulders. There was no way it was going on. The second was a bit of a struggle and required assistance but I got it on. It was too short. Then she found one that fit me. This little fiasco turned into a conversation about how big I was. Everyone was making hand gestures indicating I was wide and fat. Everyone was having a good laugh too. Especially when one of the men, who is 21, tried on the first shirt and it fit. It was snug but he still got it on. Now I am not a big person by Canadian standards. I'm about 5'8 and 135 pounds. But to them I was large. I think they will be shocked by the size of people we consider to be big and tall.

It was good for me though because I had been recently talking to a friend about how small I am now compared to when I was playing volleyball a couple of years ago. I thought I looked like a pencil on toothpicks. I wish I was bigger but don't have time to cook and work out like I would like to. Now I don't feel so small.

One more thing, this was too cute. I was looking through the flyers with the family and telling them what a bunch of food was called. We got to the meat section and the 21 year old guy points to this thing.
"Hey, alligator. You eat alligator?"
I couldn't hold my laughter in.
"No we don't eat alligator. That's a ham, it's a pig cut up."
He thought the waffle-like skin on the processed hams was alligator skin. We all had a good laugh. They are so much fun to be with, not shy at all and can laugh at themselves and each other.

ANOTHER WONDERFUL DAY...

Tuesday I wanted to bake something for a refugee family that my church is sponsoring to make them feel more welcome. I didn't have much time so I decided on making some EatMore bar ripoffs. The most simplest recipe ever and I've done it a million times before successfully. But not this time. They turned more crumbly then chewy and I have no idea what went wrong.

Then I heard that they love chocolate and cake. Being the genius that I am I decided I would bake them a chocolate cake. As I was getting started I realized that I only had one round pan instead of the two that I thought I had. So I ran across the street to Zellers to buy another round cake pan. I got home only to find that they were not the same size. It was too late to go back to Zellers to find a smaller one. Oh well, I'll just cut a bit off of the edges so that they are the same size. So I put them in the oven, started a load of laundry then went back to the kitchen to clean up my mess.



I then took them out of the oven and allowed them to cool for a while. I took them out of the pans and this is what I got.



Fantastic!

Somewhat upset I decided to call my family and chat with them for a bit before going to bed. I hung up the phone and heard a huge thump. I look in the laundry room to find that while the machine was spinning, my Costco sized container of liquid detergent had fallen off the machine. Now it didn't break, thank goodness, but the lid did not remain in it's sealed position so I now have blue detergent splashed up the walls and all over the floor. Awesome!

I cleaned that mess up then got ready for bed. I still really wanted to bake a cake for the refugee family so I got back into my other clothes, went back into the kitchen and started again. I was a little short on milk so I added a bit of water to it. Hope it still works. I also greased and floured the pans like it was going out of style. That is where I am at right now. Waitingfor the moment of truth. Those cakes better come out of the pans smoothly or there will be heck to pay.

INTERESTING THINGS I'VE HEARD RECENTLY

I was watching an episode of "Saturday's with Mark and Tony" yesterday. It's a great little show online, it's a pastor and a Christian singer/comedian that discuss theology and various other things. In this particular episode they discussed women as preachers. They both were for it, and supported it with scripture. I was disturbed to hear that the NIV had changed a passage. In Romans 16:7 Paul is speaking highly of two church leaders, Adronicus and Junia, a man and a women. Tony says that the NIV changes the name Junia to Junias, a man's name to fit their theology that women should not preach. I haven't had time to check it out yet, but hopefully soon.

Another theology related thing I heard is that many biblical scholars believe that the book of Hebrews was written by a women.

At Walmart I was buying some hangers and was told by the cashier that she would not put them in bags because it was difficult to do so. Are you flippin' kidding me? So I walked with my arms full of hangers and got to the door and the man told me I had to show him my receipt, which I had put in purse. He did not offer to take some of the hangers while I struggled to find the receipt in my purse. When I accidentally dropped the receipt and it started blowing away I got quite a bit of joy watching him almost grab it only to have it blow away again.

A friend of mine also told me that a bill is likely to be passed making spanking against the law. I guess I'll be going to jail when I have kids.

Lastly, this not something that I heard but rather something someone heard me say. WARNING: If you are a male uncomfortable with female problems you may want to stop reading. I went over to my friends house to meet up with her before we headed out to play beach volleyball. She asked me how I was doing and I said,
" Other than the fact that it feels like world war three in my uterus I am doing fine."
We go into the living room a few steps away and she says,
"Hey Chantal, do you remember my friend Andrew?"
Awesome, I am sure he heard how well I am doing.

So I have had another great week. One of the kids at work bit me, so I know what it must feel like for you breastfeeding mothers. He was definitely old enough to know better, but all the kids have been acting strange. Maybe there's a full moon or something.

I got a flat tire. Turned out not to be so bad because I had a full size spare in my trunk and it happened to be close enough to work that I could borrow a jack from somebody else. Now I know that I should have my own jack, but there is a good reason why I didn't, but I am not going to go into that now. I was pretty ticked though that nobody offered to help. I was passed by a few males who just kept walking or offered stupid tips. My pride would have probably forced me to decline any assistance but that's besides the point. Where are the gentlemen? That's okay, I am completely capable of doing such things on my own.

I was baking a banana loaf the other day and discovered that my oven mitts had ants in them. A fair quantity had taken residence inside the cozy cotton. I might just buy some new ones because that was pretty gross, there is probably tons of bacteria and little ant feces inside. And I needed new ones any way because I accidentally put them in the dryer when I washed them so they were a little snug on my massive man hands.

Still sick, but a different kind of sick then last week. I think I might make a sticker chart of all the common illness that infect humans and see how many I get. So far I have had a cold of the upper respiratory system, laryngitis, cold of the lower respiratory tract, fever and chills, with intermittent episodes of diarrhea of unknown origin. Just in the last three weeks.
Oh life is good!

KIDS ARE GREAT

I've shared with you some of the joys of working with the elderly, now I thought I would share some of my favourite moments from working at the daycare.
I am paired one on one with a 2 year old boy who has autistic tendencies. He is a bit of a screamer. As soon as he sees someone crying he screams at the top of his lungs and doesn't stop. I have discovered that if you sing him a song it distracts him. Being a two year old I thought his favourite song would be something like the ABC's or old MacDonald. Nope. His favourite song goes like this...

"We will, we will... ROCK YOU!"

On a similar note I was surprised to hear 4 year olds singing Avril Lavigne's song "Girlfriend". I don't think that song sends the best message to girls.
Despite being one on one I do have a lot of interaction with the other toddlers. One little boy, who brings in all the teachers imaginary "double doubles" from Tim Horton's everyday, brought me a picture of a hot air balloon from a magazine also handed me a freshly picked gift. Flowers would have been good, but nothing compares to what he handed me. A great big green crusty booger. How thoughtful.
I also get a kick out of the 1 year olds who think they can run after the older kids. It usually ends up in a "Jack and Jill" type scenario where the little ones come tumbling down the hill after. It sounds mean but it is actually quite hilarious to see a little one rolling down the hill not being able to stop himself. They are pretty resilient. I have seen kids take some pretty serious spills and get up like nothing happened.
Another wonderful part of my job is getting to potty train kids. Especially boys who insist on standing up to pee. I never would have thought that a two year old could pee with such force that he could spray the ceiling.

Mr. Right

Well, I have been kind of down in the dumps lately. I found out that my boyfriend found someone else. Yes, Harvey the 95 year old farmer left me for a younger woman. But I don't think I'll be single for very long.
I was approached today by a super cute boy. He had gorgeous brown eyes and strawberry blonde hair, cut short, non of that long hippy hair. I've known him for a couple of weeks now. He's a sensitive guy, not afraid to show his emotions. He asked me to dance. I was a little reluctant, but I wasn't really doing anything else so I said yes. He took my hands in his and off we went. We polka-ed and two stepped and then just jumped around being silly. He never took his eyes off me, and smiled the whole time. When we were done he threw his arms around me and kissed me. I never thought I could fall in love so fast. That adorable little two year old stole my heart.

ELDERLY SAY THE DARNDEST THINGS

So I haven't posted for a while because I forgot I had a blog. Here are a few random things that have brought sunshine into my life.

Have I told you I love my job? Well I do, it's so great! For those of you who don't know, I am working at an elderly care home. Almost everyday I am brought to tears from laughing so hard. I love old people because they say exactly what they think and they don't care who hears it. Here is a couple of gems from my time working with 80+ year olds.

1. Me: Hi Mary! How are you today?
Mary(97years old): I can't see, I have no teeth and I wear a diaper, guess.
2. When being served shepherd's pie for dinner: Who sh** under my mashed potatoes?
3. my 95year old boyfriend (my first day): Holy he** a white girl. I didn't know they hired white people. For a while I thought I had been shipped to Taiwan or something.

I could probably write a novel of all things they have said. Oh by the way anyone know what a ukranian bra is? I was quite startled when my boyfriend told me to take off my ukranian bra. I was later told that it is simply when you have your arms crossed over your chest. That was his way of telling me not to look so bored and grumpy.

So I think the guy at the dollar store was hitting on me the other day. I went in to pick up a few things then was in line at the counter. The cashier kept looking at me while I was in line to the point where I was quite uncomfortable. He put my stuff through and then I paid. When he went to give me back my change he grabbed my hand and held it while he was putting the change in it. I left in a hurry and burst out laughing in the middle of the mall. I think people around me thought I was crazy.

STUPID AND INCOMPETENT

As a student in the biological sciences I have had hammered into my head Darwin's theories. Especially the one about survival of the fittest. However, my own experiences are bringing some doubt about the truth of this theory. I think that you will agree that a lot of stupid things happen to me and that perhaps if I was in the wild I would not survive. The latest incident, although mild, is just another in a series that is making me think that I will one day be immortalized, my story will be told in the great book known as the Darwin Awards.
Today I got stuck to a mixing bowl. It was one of those metal ones. Around the rim of the bowl the edges are rolled under. While I was washing dishes the nails of two of my fingers got stuck under the rim of the bowl. I couldn't get them out I tried pulling and wiggling them, but they were stuck. I was stuck for quite some time, it was like the Chinese finger trap for domestics. I could not get out. I sat down and laughed at myself for a few minutes wishing you were here Kim to share the moment with me (It was sooo good to hear your voice this morning). I walked around my apartment going about my business for a little while with a bowl stuck to my hand. I finally had to pull so hard that I lost some chunks of fingernails.

Now for the incompetent part. So I was babysitting for some friends tonight. I had to pick the kids up after school. Now I usually don't have kids in my car so when it comes to safety the extent of my thinking is "make sure they are wearing their seat belts". It's a good thing these kids are more aware of child safety then I am. The young buckaroo, 9 years old I think, had the smarts to inquire as to whether there was air bags. I have actually never even thought about it, I don't think there is, but I said yes just in case. So the kiddies hopped in the back seat. I had totally forgotten that kids under twelve are not supposed to ride shotgun if there is airbags. Sorry Dan and Char! I feel like such a dufus.
The rest of the night went pretty well. I had to ask the little girl how her mom's pizza pan works, but other than that it was good. We played school, I haven't had a spelling test in about 10 years. Then we played a combo of hide and seek and tag. After about three rounds I was huffin' and puffin'. I really need to get in shape. Then I got worked in animalopoly. Now I am exhausted so I will say goodnight.

So I started my new summer job about two weeks ago. I work at an intermediate care home. I am basically babysitting the elderly. I do cleaning and baking and sometimes help with dressing and bathing. I really love my job, old people really crack me up.

So far I have put a woman’s depends on backwards, washed a man’s hair with lotion and sprayed myself in the face with the shower hose.

We also have a couple of 90 year old fornicators. I have been lucky and have not been the one to catch them.

My favourite thing is the 95 year old boyfriend I have acquired. He always picks on me and wants to sit near me. He is an old farmer so he is pretty funny. The best part is that he is knitting me a dish cloth.

STATS WORTH SHARING

I am not a big fan of statistics. They are often used to manipulate people and rarely give all the information. Here are some stats that I feel are worth spreading around. They are from the book True Grit, it's distributed by Operation Mobilization. While it is geared more for women, sharing stories of female missionaries, I think it is good for everyone to have a look at because it shares alot about injustices in our world that are committed against women and children. You can get a free copy from George Verwer's website here.

- 9o% of women in developed countries receive post natal care, only 5% in developing countries
- maternal death rate: Canada 1 in 7300; Africa 1 in 12
- 200,000 Nepali women and girls are kidnapped or sold by destitute parents into India's brothels (this doesn't count the girls sold to other countries)
- only 44 countries have laws to protect women from domestic violence, not all enforce the laws
-in many countries beating women and children is considered a family matter and the police and courts do not get involved
- the Swaziland word for wife means "one who dies without speaking of what she has endured"
- in Pakistan women who report rape are more likely to be charged with adultery than see their attacker charged. Rape conviction requires four adult male Muslim witnesses and physical evidence of struggle on the woman's body
- Yemen and Mali have over 90% illiteracy rates in women
- 6000 girls a day are at risk of suffering female circumcision
- typical age for girls to undergo female genital mutilation is 4-8 years, the majority of the time no anesthetic or pain killers are provided
- often any sharp object available is used, broken glass, tin lid, dirty razor blade
- serious complications can occur in adulthood when women marry and during childbirth
- in countries that abduct children for the army, girls are usually used as sex slaves for the soldiers, sent into battle at the front lines to take the worst of the fighting or used as mine detectors
- almost 7000 children die from dehydration caused by diarrhea, most of which is caused by unclean water
- 5000 women are killed each year by husbands or relatives, they call these "honour killings", excuses for murder include seeing a female relative dating, talking to a male, or even poor cooking
- it is common in Muslim countries for girls 10-15 years old to be "married" to the Qur'an, this saves the family money on the wedding dowry but it costs the girls their sanity as they are then locked away and isolated from human contact
- in Calgary more than 400 children, some as young as 11 are working for pimps

THE GOOD, THE BAD, THE UGLY

Now that school is over I have the chance to focus more on other parts of my life. Over the past couple of weeks I have learned a lot about myself and the world in general. Some good things and some not so good things.

I have a very sensitive smoke detector in my apartment. It goes off several times a week while I am cooking. Recently I was house sitting for friends and found that their smoke detector was also sensitive, as it went off a few times too over the course of my stay at there house. After some careful reflection I learned that I am not a good cook.

This week I embarked on a journey to eat the recommended amount of the foods listed in the Canadian food guide. This new goal came about when I realized I had gone a few weeks having not had any fruits or vegetables. Don't worry. I have fought off scurvy with Kool-Aid which contains 100% of the recommended amount of Vitamin C. Now the meat and milk, and often the grain part was not hard for me. Those are my favourite groups. But the fruits and veggies were never a priority. However, I am proud to say that after 6 days I have, for probably the first time in my life, ate all the recommended servings on the food guide. That's 8 servings of fruits and veggies, 2 servings of milk, 7 servings of grains and 3 servings of meat (well it's only supposed to be 2 meat but whatever). The first couple of days I found myself in a state similar to the Simpsons when Lisa feeds her family vegetables. I think my body went through an initial period of shock, where I was not feeling my best. But I think my body is adjusting because I am feeling much better now. I still have some candy and cookies occasionally, but the important thing is that I eat fruit and veggeies now. I learned that you can still have a full, happy life even if you don't eat all the candy you want.

Now I am sleepy, goodnight.

To be continued...