Cake Boss

I am the Cake Boss:
There is no denying this,
I take that cake batter and mix, mix, mix.
Forget recipes, forget ingredients
Baking from a box, it's an easy fix
I am the Cake Boss

Seriously, I do not think I am cut out for motherhood if I can't even bake a cake perfectly from a box. Who knew that spreading icing on a cake could be so difficult? I do not understand how people have the patience to decorate a cake and make it into a masterpiece. What was supposed to be a cake decorated as a pumpkin turned into a vomit inspired cake because I did not want to spend the time making the perfect spread. I firmly belive in Dairy Queen ice cream cakes. Every kid loves them and they save you plenty of time, effort and discouragement.

thinking

Oddly enough, I find that I do my best thinking when I am either sleeping or driving. Not only do these two activities provide good study breaks to refresh my mind but they allow me to think at my fullest potential. Maybe it is the fact that there are minimal distractions. For instance, when I am driving I only have the road to focus on and when I am sleeping, the darkness I see when my eyes are closed provides no distractions at all. Whereas, if I am in my room or the library, there are plenty of things that could cause my mind to drift away. Unfortunately, it is not possible to do my homework in the car while driving, and I could not possibly do my homework in my sleep. That in itself would be incredible and my life would be much easier if it was. Therefore, I must resort to doing homework in my room even if it means it takes me several hours to complete it and it is not to the best of my ability. However, driving and sleeping provide for good study breaks and opportunities to gather my thoughts so that when I attempt to do my homework again, I have something to write down.

ROY G BIV

Surprisingly, seeing a band that you love live could possibly ruin that love. Who knew that the opening bands could be more entertaining than the one you came to see? What you thought was cool suddenly becomes uncool when you find out that the band's fan base is largely pre-teens. Unfortunately, the lead singer is a much larger potty-mouth than expected. The little girls take it too far with throwing their "unwanteds" on stage and then you have to see their dirty laundry hanging from the mic stand. Who wants to hear the emo girl shout "Marry Me" continuously through-out the concert? Seriously, they can't hear you when you are sitting in the nose-bleed section. Finally, the lead singer is suffering from H1N1 and can't sing to his fullest potential. Considering all these things, I still love Marianas Trench. Despite what was unattractive at the concert, this band still remains attractive when you blast them on the car ride home.

Final Note: It is fun to spot the colours of the rainbow at a concert such as this one.

No church like Home church

Picking a church proves to be the most dificult, heart-wrenching task. After you have gone to the same church your whole life, it is impossible to find a church that matches the way you feel in your home church. I love my church. First of all, I know everyone. In this way, I am just as close to my church family as my real family. Secondly, I know the music. Therefore, I am confortable knowing that I will be able to sing every song. Finally, there are people my age. It is good to relate to others of a different age, but it is wonderful to lean back on these friends who will always understand where you are coming from. I know that I need to step out of my comfort zone and become more open, however, I feel like it is alright to be picky at this point. Oddly enough, I have become the Goldilocks of churches. "This one's too large, this one's too small, this one has too many old people, this one has not enough." I do not want to feel like just another number at the church and at the same time I do not want to sing hymns the entire service. There is really no place like my home church. Yet, I would like to find a church I can call my second-home. The search goes on.

Not Guilty

I am guilty of being a guilt-tripper. Surprisingly, I am manipulative, conniving and devious. For some reason, I am skilled in crawling into a person's mind, grabbing it and pulling it along to what I want. Unfortunately, I have practiced this far too many times with my parents and therefore, have mastered it. However, now I know what it is like to be on the other end. It is not fun, in fact, it is rather annoying. The way in which people can take my words and twist them to fit their argument gets on my last nerve. How dare they take these techniques which I have perfected over the years and use them against me? My stubborn foot helps me stand my ground. I will not and shall not ever be manipulated into doing something that I do not want to. Since I have been the guilt-tripper in the past, I know the tricks involved. These amateurs stand no chance against me. Instead of fuming up from their feeble attempts, from now on I will just laugh. I will never be guilty of being guilt-tripped by a guilt-tripper.

Questioning?

A long time ago, my LITEforce leader (leadership in training) at camp told me what I should do in life. He told me that he saw me as a counsellor. No, I do not mean a counsellor at camp which was appropriate considering I was a leader in training at camp. He meant a counsellor as a career. Surprisingly, he said that he saw a lot of himself in me. This caught me off guard a bit, but he explained further. The funny thing about Rob was that he led my older sister in this program as well, so he knew me from what she said even before I applied. She told him that I was a great listener, and whenever she needed to confide in someone, it was me she would go to. He said that he did not believe Taryn the way she exaggerated it until he met me. Apparently, he believed I had two amazing gifts: listening and genuinely caring for others. First of all, I have always known I was a great listener but it was because there are members of my family who love talking, I had to learn to listen. Secondly, I do care a lot about people but not to a greater extent than others for it to become a gift of mine. However, he convinced me that I was blessed with these things and therefore I should use them. As a result, I looked into psychology thinking a good listener who cares about others fits perfectly. In the end, I took a different path towards media, wanting to pursue my creative side instead. I forgot about this one on one with Rob until recently. The past two weeks have been overwhelming in that everyone close to me has confided in me about something. I wondered why people have come to me with their problems knowing I have no experience in what they are dealing with. When I addressed this concern with them, they each said in a way that I was a good listener who genuinely cared. Instantly, I flash backed to that specific one on one. As a result, I have questioned of whether or not I am on the right career path. I love being creative but I also want to help others. Maybe there is a way that I can intertwine the two.

vegetABILITY.

If being old feels anything like how I am feeling now, I refuse to grow up. Seriously, we take walking for granted. Right now, I am a vegetable. Honestly, I have to lift my legs with my arms in order to put on my shoes, wiggle like a worm to get into bed, and grasp the railing with all my might to make it up and down the stairs. Tip: when they say stretch before a hard work out, DO IT! After the work out, drink tons of water until you feel like you are drowning, there is no other way to flush away the lactic acid. This is especially important because guess what, if you are sore for next practice, you are doomed, done, destined for death. Today was my own personal nightmare. How could I possibly run if I could barely walk. As well, how can I SPRINT if my legs are falling off when I'm running. I never thought that it could take me 20 minutes to walk back to dorm until now. Sadly, if I thought I was sore before, I have no idea what I'm in for tomorrow since there will be soreness on top of soreness. I will be praying that I will be able to make it out of bed tomorrow morning.  

Uniqueity

You know who your true friends are when you can do absolutely nothing for six hours and still have fun. People who are uptight about making plans are truly missing out. Spontaneity is key in a friendship, it shows that as a team you can think on your feet and be creative. As well, it reveals your similarities and differences in what you think is fun. Typically, friends go to the movies or shopping. Since everyone does this with a group of friends, it is not unique; it does not show your true character. On the other hand, drinking bubbletea, then browsing a candy store, then driving for an hour or so looking for Boston Pizza, says something about the people involved. First of all, it says they are cultured, they don't mind sipping a foreign drink in an asian restaurant. Secondly, it reveals that although they were searching for a comedy club they happened upon a candy store because they are truly kids at heart. Finally, the fact that it took them several attempts to get to Boston Pizza in a large parking lot shows that they are completely mindless. All in all, random adventures prove to be the best kind, not only because they are ridiculously fun but because they share something about the people you are spending time with.

Elephants from Above

Stomp, stomp, STOMP! The elephants that live above me are ruthless. I do not understand how someone can walk around their room so much in one day. Honestly, if I'm in my room, I am usually sitting on my bed. However, those people who shall remains nameless are constantly strutting causing my room to shift and shake. Last year I lived upstairs and didn't understand why the people below me always came upstairs to tell us to be quiet. Now I know how it feels, except last year I don't believe I spent most of my time plodding along in my room. I so badly want to go upstairs and break their feet. That seems harsh and I would never do that, but I cannot help but feel hatred when they wake me up at 7 in the morning when they JUMP off their beds. I've just about had it.

Pause for Reflection

The saying is true, "you don't know how good you have it." Often, we get caught up in the problems we face day to day, thinking that they are the end of our world as we know it. We are so fortunate. I am not just talking about the cliche reasons such as having a roof over our heads, the ability to have three meals a day, and so on. I am talking about the fact that we don't have to sleep in fear of being abducted, massacred or mutilated. This security I have in knowing that I am going to make it to morning is the most blessed thing. After watching The Rescue: Invisible Children, I was forced to reflect on my life. Sadly, I have been trapped in this naive bubble all my life. I have always known that devastating evil lurks in our world but I have chosen to ignore it. Knowing the destruction of human lives that happens every day due to violence puts a damper on my selfish world. I feel so insignificant that I can be here enjoying an education while there are lives at risk. Honestly, I envy those who travel to these places in hopes of improving them. All I can do is sit here and enjoy the fine luxuries of life, maybe donate a little here and there. I wish there was something I could do.

WOOHOO!

"Yes" is the key to happiness. "No" keeps you on the couch watching One Tree Hill re-runs where "Yes" wins you $100.
Yesterday, I spent my Thanksgiving travelling: two hour drive from home to the airport, two hour air plane ride, two minute shuttle ride to air park, forty minute drive back to Providence. Therefore, I was in no position to travel some more after I settled back in dorm. However, one of my friends was in desperate need for a ride back to Winnipeg. At first I said no, knowing how tired I was that I could not possibly drive another two hours or so. Unfortunately, she was having no luck in finding a ride and thus, my guilty conscience grabbed a hold of me. I told myself I would be a good friend and take her home, even though deep inside I was completely dreading it. Three of us girls hopped into my car and drove towards an unexpected adventure. We stopped at McDonald's in hopes of adding more acne to our faces in order to win the Monopoly million. As always, we were unsuccessful and as true gamblers went elsewhere to happen upon a small fortune. Luckily, there was a convenience store neighbouring McDonald's so we went there for scratch and wins. Our first round was a disappointment, each of us only winning up to $3.00. Feeling embarassed about claiming such a small amount, I refused to go back in. However, my friend convinced me to go back in and it proved to be the best decision ever. I told myself I was only going to buy one more scratch and win. Since I love the show the Amazing Race, I bought that ticket. The arrowed path led me to the exit with the $100 prize amount and I thought I must have scratched wrong. To my surprise, the machine screamed "WOOHOO" when the cashier ran the winning ticket through. This rather large sum of money for a college student was handed to me and I bounced out of the store. As I turned on the radio, "I Gotta Feeling" by the Black Eyed Peas rang through my speakers triumphantly. Tonight was truly a good night. Moral of the story: the good samaritan is rewarded. If I would have stuck with "No", I wouldn't have been $100 richer. WOOHOO!

The Mighty Giant

There is an empty pool table in the middle of the Student Life Center. It is screaming "PLAY POOL", but nobody dares; the Price is Right is much too compelling. Drew Carrey draws in the eyes of the room as he lets an avid fan stroke his oversized belly while he shouts out the instructions for the next game. No one is up to playing pool in the morning; it requires excessive amounts of physical activity at such an early hour. What else is there to do at 9:30 a.m. than watch a full episode of the greatest game show in history? Even without Bob Barker, it is still "the show" to keep you sitting on the edge of your seat shouting out random prices. However, one lonely giant steps into the Student Life Center and the room grows dim. He glances at the pool table with pride; a game he cannot lose. One by one, he stares down each of the weak bystanders and chuckles as they cripple with fear. All attempt to avoid eye contact since the giant uses his puppy dog eyes as a weapon. Once you look into them, there is no turning back. Casually, he walks to the center of the room and pretends to take interest in the Barker Beauties as they show off "A BRAND NEW CAR!" This is a simple distraction tactic in which he makes his victims believe they are safe until he swivels on the spot and glares into one of their eyes. A bearded man cannot help but look up. Instantly, the short man attempts to stand up while his knees wobble and wiggle, forcing him to sit back down. "Stand up ppppuny MAN! Play me in a game of pool." spats the giant. Once again the short man in green board shorts stands up, this time with a minuscule amount more of confidence. "O-o-o kayy" the little man stutters, "first let me stretch." The giant gallantly walks off, grabs the triangle and swoops every ball into place. The victim cracks each of his knuckles slowly, hoping to slow down time so that he can gather his breath. "Ready?" asks the giant. "You bet." states the other. Both grab a cue and stand face to face. "I'll break." declares the giant and the bearded man shuffles out of the way. He takes the cue ball and slams it on spot. Gracefully, he lines up and BANG; balls shoot off into many different directions. Two stripes slide into the corner pockets: the giant grins. With a furrowed brow, short man lines up the cue ball and the blue solid with the side pocket. Surprisingly, the ball rolls right in. "Phew," he whispers as he wipes the sweat dripping down his nose. This slight stab to the giant's ego has no affect on him as he effortlessly shoots another stripe in. The stroke of luck the little man comes upon soon runs out as he misses his next shot. The game moves forward as the giant consistently puts in every strip and the short man continually misses. Suddenly, only the 8 ball is left for the giant to sink while the bearded man has three solids left. Doomed. There is no happy ending for this common hero. Without a doubt, the 8 ball banks off the wall and slides into the side pocket; exactly what the giant intended. The giant adds another victory to his belt as he smiles with pleasure. Humbly, the short man looks down and says "good game". The balls are shoved back into the various pockets and the room grows light once again. Although the poor victim was humiliated in the game of pool, he still stalks off with the giant back to class. Break is over. Another morning will bring another game; another victim will lose to the mighty giant.

Someone Beautiful

It has been one year; one year since Brad Toews passed away. I remember it like it was yesterday. I had only known Brad for a month but it was enough. He was wild, humorous, protective, kind, bold and so much more. My first impression was unfortunate; I was in the computer lab late at night checking my e-mail and he came in, found someone's mail by a computer and starting swearing up a storm. I didn't understand him, immediately I thought he was a bad guy I needed to stay away from. However, he was really good friends with my roommate so I had to learn how to be okay with him. This was a great thing because I started to see different sides to him, not just the funny one that everyone knows. There was one night when my roommate and her ex-boyfriend had a fight, she brought me along for support. I didn't really know what was going on when she all of a sudden slapped him across the face. Seconds later, her ex retaliated by threatening to hit her and Brad was there to hold him back and calm him down. I saw him in a totally different light after that and started to try to get to know him. I wish I had more time. That day is still so clear. He was in my introduction to theatre class and that morning he was not there. We did not think much of it until Marlin Reimer came to our class looking for him. Soon after there was an emergency meeting at the chapel and I still feel guilty for the comments that were made while we were waiting to find out what the meeting was about. I was sitting with my roommate and a few of our friends and we were trying to figure it out. One of our conclusions was that something happened to Brad because he was not in class today. Unfortunately, my roommate assumed suicide and made the "gun pointed to head" gesture. Inside I had a feeling that something actually was terribly wrong, but it was too easy to joke around. After finding out the truth, I never felt so horrible in my life; not only because of the jokes that were being made before hand, but because it took me a while to accept Brad. I've never squeezed my roommate's hand so tight. Everyone asks why. Why did he leave in the middle of his song; his beautiful song? If someone told him life was not worth the fight, they were wrong; they lied. Now he is gone, and we cry. I do not understand what went wrong. How could have he masked his troubled soul for so long? It makes you wonder if there was anything you could have said or done. However, God only knows what went wrong. All I can do now is remember; remember the short amount of time I had with him and how honoured I am that I even have that. I know now that I cannot judge someone based on first impressions. He was so much more than the guy I was creeped out by in the computer lab. He was so beautiful and now every time I hear the train go by, I think of him.

A Vicious Cycle

Originally, I was going to go home for Thanksgiving weekend. However, Saturday morning presented an unexpected tragedy; flights are too expensive. Honestly, I was extremely upset to find this out because I was pumped to come home. I know that it is my fault that I cannot go home because I decided last minute to come home, but it would have been nice for it to actually work out. As soon as I became content with not going home, I get a call from my mother that I could come home by train if I wanted to. A nineteen hour train ride to Edmonton and then a five hour road trip home? This does not sound like a good plan so I turn it down because I might as well drive home. As soon as this plan seems settled, my mother presents me with another idea, there are some seat sales but I would have to leave early on Monday morning. I know how much my family wants me home but this is getting ridiculous. I would have rathered them giving up after the first let down instead of them trying again and again to find an alternative. I cannot handle this vicious cycle of hopes lifted and let downs. I do not know for sure whether or not I am going home. These maybes are killing me, I need a definite answer and I need it fast. It's too bad I still don't know what to do.