C'est L'halloween

Last night's post startles me like a strange lover in my bed. I momentarily forget his name this early in the morning after a wild bender.
I didn't...did I?
This incongruous relationship between "me" and the word "preacher" or "minister" or "whatever" is further accentuated by the above metaphor and the previous post about lipstick. I am sure there has never been someone so ill suited to this calling. However, having just written that, I am reminded of Paul - a mass murderer. Perhaps he was even sketchier than a girl with a freshly lipsticked potty mouth.
I just wanted to voice my surprise at my own audacity in case you worried I momentarily lost touch with who I really am. "And who are you?" you ask. Hmm, I was wondering that very thing myself.
What I know for sure:
I'm a girl who woke up and the world greeted her with the fresh smell of possibility.
Possibility stirred itself into her coffee and bounced in her step. It curled up her lips as she walked through the school doors and filled her little treasure chest with small blessings and profound joy. She enjoyed her kids today because she knew this might be the end of classroom teaching for a while. And what she discovered is that her kids, it turns out, enjoy being enjoyed. They like joy. It's about as addictive as MSG and Meth but it does not leave any residual damage. And so, everyone is very joy-and-candy filled. And not much compares to a good and perfect gift like possibility, joy and sugar.
So maybe I'm still drunk from last night's gluttonous portion of "dreams for the future", but the hesitation is still only said with a massive grin and a flip in my gut.
I didn't, did I? (I hope so.)

I think today is the day I decided I want to become a preacher.
Ha! Even writing the words sounds audacious. But I think I believe them.
The thing is, I need to admit I'm not good at teaching. Like the profession of teaching math and social studies and computer and planning for 500 years in the future and making sure everyone has their lunch and did their homework. I don't really care.
But philanthropy? Philosophy? Theology? Hook a sister up!
I don't remember the last time I felt this free.
There is a long road ahead, but I will be damned if it means another year of french lesson plans.
(Don't quote me on that; irony has a funny way of biting me in the ass).
Step one: deal with potty mouth. "Out of the same mouth come praise and cursing. My brothers, this should not be." James 3 :10

the power of a good lipstick

I love to be a woman when someone holds the door for me.
It makes me want to curl my hair.
And wear lipstick.
And dance the waltz in a skirt that twirls when I do.

I love to be a woman when there are only other women around: the kind of women who seep wisdom from their pores.
Because there is always wine.
And passion.
And it makes me feel sexy to be passionate around intelligent women drinking wine.
(Especially if there is lipstick involved)

It makes me wonder what on earth could leave a man feeling perfectly fitted and contented in his own skin.
Surely beer kegs and football does not evoke this same deep satisfaction.
But, perhaps they wear lipstick too.

A clobbering to beat all clobberings

It would seem that life is very much transpiring outside of my sphere of influence. I did not realize that it worked that way. It explains some of my fatigue and anxiety when placed in its chaotic midst. I am forced to admit that despite my clearest unspoken request, people fail to read my mind and act the way I hope they would. No matter the care and deliberation I put into lessons or outings or plans, kids rarely take the time to notice or appreciate. Relationships break down, fall apart and need work. Bills pop up out of even the thinnest air. And then, just when it seems like nothing else could derail life further, someone will appear out of the mystic to say something so elementary and yet entirely profound that I find myself void of any and all knowledge. I am suddenly stripped down to nothing and am right back at the beginning, reconsidering everything from the ground up. Everything. Right down to the very root of the thing.
And YET(... are you ready? This is the part where I stand up as I'm talking to you, not because I feel the enthusiasm but I believe if I build it, it will come.) And YET this could be the first time God is actually doing something!
First of all, I suddenly have $5050 in my Africa fund. (thanks mom!)
Secondly, I discovered today that the people in Africa are praying for us at Lakeview. They are praying for us? Nuts!
Third, I think that the Holy Spirit totally rocked some little kids heart tonight at kids club. Like seriously, after 5 years (!?!?) 5 years of showing up on Mondays for what usually seems like no reason, I think some kid got it. The real deal.
Fourth, I am beginning to feel the confidence to confront issues in my life that are holding me back from freedom. I know, vague and self important sounding. But seriously, I have issues! I had no idea it was this extensive.

So, thanks Jackie! I'm totally giving up control. I'll grow some and suck it up. I might even be busking in the foyer this weekend. I'll be the bum people are paying to stop playing.
And thanks Jacqueline for kicking my ass on Saturday.
And thanks Angie and Diane for insisting we pray.
And thanks Kristie for reminding me what beautiful looks like.
And thanks mom for giving me $5000!
And thanks Kristal for praying for us.

Right now my grandma is hugging me tightly in the form of my cozy red housecoat. I'm lying in bed with sleep only an eyelid away, knowing that something big is coming.

I will consider it pure joy. Even though it looks like work and feels like a pummeling.

Two paths in a lame wood

The biggest grade 8 baby, the one who at times has made me consider abandoning my profession and instead rocking gently in a chair at Zellers for the rest of my life, wrote "I like to do animals" in French today. Of course this was a mistake. He did not intend to tell me about some sick fantasy in the language of love. It was an error born of the consequences of his actions which to date have been none that appear productive or conducive to learning French. It was like that moment I've been waiting for when I could pull out all the stops and really embarrass his sorry ass.
I could have smirked gently and said, "Hmm, you like to do animals do you?" just loud enough for everyone to hear.
I could have given him a feigned astonished look and quiet, disapproving shake of the head before launching into a speech about how embarrassing it is to say you like to have relations with animals. People in a foreign country would not be as understanding as we are here and he better hope he shapes up before leaving for France and saying something so stupid. He would feel like an idiot. So if he just quit rolling his eyes all the time... etc.
The choice. To be or not to be, that teacher.
Well, for better or worse, I took that road less travelled by, you know, the high road. The place where two paths fork: one goes to hell and is paved with good intentions and the other road, the skinny, high road leads right into a rainbow and ends in a pot-o-gold. That's right. I didn't even crack a smile at that creepy perv.
Hmm, this seems vaguely like a concept I am becoming familiar with. Could it be, no, it couldn't. Not, maturity?
I think it might just be the beginnings of something along that line.

broken washing machine repairs - $100
Tuition outstanding - $7800
water bill resulting from washing machine fiasco - $300
new phone after pepsi spilling in the purse incident - $90
car accident fine - $275
Ummm, miracle from God? Priceless. And yet pending.
I could use a little cloud rolling back style miracle. Hands at Work has accepted me, so Africa is three months away. Unfortunately I have yet to get the balls to ask for some moola from people to ensure I'll actually be able to go.
In the meantime, all these little kicks in the junk are falling from the sky. There is no way I can afford anything. This will be a miracle or it will not be.

painting a sunday afternoon

I painted my first ever canvas today. Perhaps the best Sunday in recorded history, my best friend and I sipped lattes and painted away an afternoon at the river. The chilly wind was no deterrent, nor the giggling joggers; neither did the lack of skill even discourage. Instead, it was sheer bliss as the sun tried peeking through the hazy clouds and biting fall chill. We sat until our bums were soaked. I am pleased to announce no one painted a river scene, much to my relief. Instead, Kristie painted her own lungs and I painted two girls in scarves....bet you can't get who came up with the more creative theme?

I am crossing over the world of artists. This is for sure what life has been missing. Berets and acrylic paint sets.

Melancholy Thursday Musing

The whole world feels languid and gloomy today when confronted with the somber reality of this gray day. The people outside my Starbucks' window shuffle in a bundle of coats and scarves and rosy, runny noses - hair and coattails flapping at the frigid breath of a coming winter.
My coffee and my hands have gone cold, reminding me that everything is fleeting. It's here and it's gone: like that man's cap, like the delicious feeling of hot coffee, like the perfect sensation of waking in a warm bed full of blankets and sleep.
The end of a season. The end of summer, the end of my employment at Lakeview, the end, the end.
And yet, the beginning.
I guess that's the beauty of endings.
And, at the risk of boring everyone with my redundant lamentations, I only feel like bemoaning the end. Somewhere in my heart though, there is celebration.
Points of celebration on a gloomy day in October:
1. Hands at Work will be contacting me sometime in the next week to confirm or decline my application to go to Africa.
2. I get to see my little brother play football on Friday.
3. My best friend prays or drinks wine or watches movies with me when I'm wigging out and it helps.
4. God answers prayer.
5. Two of you read this - shout out to Shanny T. and anonymous- which comforts me because that means I am not talking to myself. ha ha
6. There's always room for growth. Things need to die so other things can grow. And they do, without fail.
7. My grade 3/4 class speaks only in French for 30minutes! It's beside the point that we only talk about whether or not we can go to the washroom and how we are doing. It's beside the point because they can do it for 30minutes without any English.

If only I could date seniors...

Today blogging feels like talking to myself. And not in a productive way. Does anyone even read this or am I merely flapping my metaphorical gums in vain? Not vain. Writing, even for myself alone, is worth the effort. But I wonder who's out there...
So the date? You're curious? (Whether you are or not I plan to tell you about it.) Well - I hate to say "meh" but that's all the poetic enthusiasm I can muster. It seems I develop insatiable and all consuming crushes on men who have ZERO interest in me. Unfortunately this apathy is transferred onto the few-and-far-between fantastic gentlemen who would extend me the courtesy of dinner and good manners. Genuinely good guys. I am not cut out for dating. It's consistently confirmed on the rare occasion that I try it. So much for a little romance.
I did however, have the privilege of meeting the most lovely man on my cab ride home.
(So there is greater purpose)
The gentleman who drove me home, Afbad, is a Pakistani immigrant. We got into a friendly 4am chat about social justice (as I seem to get into with EVERYONE, in particular cab drivers). I eventually elicit from him that he is alone in this country. He knows no one. "You go where the food is," he says. My heart is broken.
How can people be so lonely in a world so absolutely FULL of other people? Kristie thinks that he's a creep and is trying to pull a fast one. I hope, in a strange way for his sake, that she's right. That means life is actually better for him than it seemed. As it is, it seems I've become the first Canadian friend to a previously retired Pakistani man. What an unlikely friendship. Though, I look more forward to a date with him than anyone else on the radar. I wonder how his story goes.

I got the joy, joy....uh where?

So if Paul can work out this "joy" business while he's rocking a prison sentence, I can sort out some joy in working for an extra month. And I think that pretty much sums up why I have often wanted to punch Paul. He just throws down these super harsh statements that he expects people to follow - and then, just when you're really choked and defensive, he casually mentions that he's been beaten within inches of his life, ship wrecked, poor, destitute and imprisoned and yet has the gall to THANK GOD. What the h Paul? What the h.
Anyway - I'm no Paul. But perhaps I'll try this thankfulness cloak on a little more regularly. I cannot very well show up in Africa - whenever this happens - feeling sorry for myself. Nope. Not me. Not anymore. That's old Louise who sucks. Watch out Paul, I might just very well take you up on your offer to be thankful in all circumstances. I might just do that.
Top Reasons to Give God a Shout out
1. He never actually said I was going to Africa in January. In fact, he said I was going in February so perhaps this weird contract snafu actually proves something divine.
2. I got to sleep for 9 hours yesterday.
3. My baby brother, who is actually no baby but rather a fully grown adult, cooked me a beautiful supper tonight.
4. I received a care package from my friend Carissa who is all the way across the ocean, thinking about and loving me.
5. Tomorrow is sushi Friday and I get to drink wine with my best friend and watch her try on her wedding dress which she picks up tomorrow.
6. Tomorrow I get the morning off work to go to a lame new-teacher orientation which I will choose to have a good attitude about tomorrow, but I just don't feel like it right now. However, the thankfulness bit is that I don't have to teach in the am. Which means I don't have to be an adult for a little while, which I like.
7. I got to write a song with my gr. 5's today about things "dans la salle de classe" to the tune of "We are the Champions" and they thought I should quit my job as a teacher and become a rockstar.
8. I could be a rockstar.
9. I am a rockstar when I play Rockband. I hate to brag but I totally got 97% singing weezer.
10. I'm not imprisoned, shipwrecked or starving.
11. Life is brimming with hope.
12. My puppy Boston kicks ass. Well actually, licks ass, but you know what I mean.

So whatever Paul. I'm working up to it.

Today was a long day of yelling at kids. I prayed for the kingdom of God to come today in first period after I scrambled through the doors with the kids - late because I'd locked my keys in the car. So, we're stood around the classroom staring at a map of Canada mumbling along with the anthem as it blares over the intercom. Do we really love "canada" this much? Whatever canada even means, that we stand around every morning giving it unabashed praises? I don't. So I pray. Except for, today I really meant it. And the kingdom did not come; or if it did I could not hear it over the shrieking and yelling and general mayhem that was intrinsic in the very fibres of the particular 8 hour period that was my work day.
PLUS I found out from head office that my contract does not end at Christmas as I was assured when I was hired - but rather extends until February! Damn PMS and shrieking kids and misunderstandings! How it makes me want to cry and hit things.
But, I still have a lot of reasons to be thankful, and I plan to list them to remind myself that the kingdom of God is within. Or something like that.
1. Monday I got to spend the evening with some of my students from last year! They initiated an evening meeting to discuss plans for philanthropy. Those kids make me want to dance and sing and giggle and most of all, hope. How many 14 year olds get together to talk about how to better love the world? Wow.
2. Today was so warm and beauiful I had to take my tights off. And yesterday too. And I can guarantee if I was still unemployed it would have been warm enough to get a suntan.
3. The girls and I went shopping today and they got beautiful new dresses for Angie's wedding. And they are very excited. And they were so lovely.
4. Only two days until sushi Friday. Saki. Saki. Saki.
5. I am going to bed and it's not even 9pm. How sweet (pathetic?) is that?
6. My heating bill was only $400! (I was calculating $600)
7. I didn't go to Starbucks today even though I was sorely tempted twice!
8. My little friend Brook in gr.2 drew a picture for Vaheed because he got in trouble for jumping on a desk and was very sad. Pretty much the most spontaneously generous gesture I have ever witnessed from a 7 year old.
9. I have a date on Saturday. That's right. Louise Carroll. Hmm. This is only on the list because I'm not really sure what to do with this information. It reminds me that life is not always what you anticipate or expect. Sometimes there are surprises.