More than a Myth

When I was in highschool we had an entire section in English about Mythology. I loved it. Not only did I get to make a paper-mache Pegasus (with wings made out of blue and green feather dusters), but it was also a collection of stories! You may (or may not) know this, but I love stories. I love to hear them. I love to tell them. I love browsing books for them. I love watching people listen to them. I even love making them up!

One particular myth that really and truly fascinated me (and still does), was the story of Narcissus and Echo. It goes something like this:

Once there was a nymph named Echo, who was in love with a beautiful young man named Narcissus. He was rather vain, and had spurned all the advances of the other young women he knew. One day, Echo followed Narcissus into the woods, but was afraid to approach him or speak first. When he finally heard her in the woods he called out "Who's there?" and she repeated "Who's there?". It continued, like a kind of game: he would call out "Who's there?" and she would answer (flirtatiously???) "Who's there?" Finally, Echo became brave enough to run out, hoping to rush into his arms, but he rebuffed her advances, and sent her away. Echo was crushed, and spent the rest of her days wandering through lonely glens and deep caverns until all that remained was her voice. The goddess Nemesis heard Echo's voice pining for Narcissus and decided to punish him for ruining the young nymph. When Narcissus was walking through the woods, he became very thirsty. Finding a deep pond he knelt down, and leaned over to drink, but caught a glimpse of his reflection in the water and fell in love. He was so smitten by his reflection that he remained there, at the edge of the pond, staring until he died, and in the place where he died a flower eventually grew up and was given his name.

See. It's a fascinating story (although, that version is one that I sort of got from wikipedia and sort of just how I remembered it. A strange combination, but I think you get the jist of it). At the time I first learnt the story, I think it held such a draw for me because it seemed so strange to fall in love with your reflection, when at the time, I could not imagine anything more detestable than my reflection. Now, however, I think that narcissism is pretty rampant. To some extent we all are focussed on ourselves, but we manage to stop staring at ourselves long enough to realize that there are other brilliant things in the world to love.

Maybe that's why I try so hard to be loving and generous and thoughtfull: to make up for all the time I spend thinking about myself.

So I don't turn into a flower. (Although, I can't help but wonder: "What would a Katie flower look like?"

London Bridge is Falling Down!

Well, the bridge in discussion is not actually in London (far from it to be exact)! It's the St. Adolphe Bridge out here in good ol' Manitoba. And as the bridge slowly topples into the murky depths of the Red River, so it seems, does everything in my life.

(To avoid sounding miserable and complain-y, I am going to write about a good thing for every bad and I'm limiting myself to 1 bad thing in this post)

-My house seems to suddenly be BURSTING with people. Some I know, some I don't know, some who have scary "Mine!" issues (a "Mine!" issue being defined as: that period of time when we were were little and all of our toys were "Mine!" when the neighbor kid came over to play). This is very odd to me. I believe the most severe case of "Mine!" I experienced went like this: I was probably 5-gonna-be-6-in-a-week and it was Christmas. I had gotten a My Little Pony for Christmas, and my little probably 3 year old 2nd cousin was over to celebrate the holiday. Guess who wanted to play with my brand new My Little Pony? She did (and obviously so did I, or this would not be much of a "Mine!" story). How did I solve this problem? I grabbed my toy, ran up the stairs, and slammed my bedroom door. I was a smart little girl, and I knew that stairs and doors would only stall the determined 3 year old for a short time, so I wisely sat in front of the door and braced myself against the wall so that the door could not be opened. Happily, this was a long time ago, and I have not felt the urge to hold doors closed in order to keep something all to myself in quite some time.
It turns out that not everyone is able to overcome the "Mine!" urge...so here, let me introduce you to what I am told my new roommate is like:




Although, I don't really think she'll be as manly. It's just so silly, cuz how she came to be here seems to be some sort of awkward accident that there is no way to really fix. Sigh. One more reason to become a hermit.



-So now the good. On the weekend I went out to Carman and hung out with some great family members of mine who were out for a wedding. My Aunt and Uncle, and cousins, and grandma. The greatest part about this was that I got to meet my tiny 6 week old baby cousin for the first time ever!!! His name is Jaxon, and he's the cutest little baby ever!! (He has a complete head of hair, and does not look like he's only 6 weeks old!!).

On that note, I returned from Carman and then on Monday I got to meet (and babysit) the sweetest little girl ever! Her name is Briony, and she is 9 months old. She loves to play and everything makes her giggle. I had so much fun hanging out with this little girl, and I really hope I get to babysit again sometime! I feel like it went well. :)



That's all folks, I gotta get some sleep so I can go get a massage in the morning!! (She's going to find out why my neck did that wonky thing I told you about previously)!



Goodnight!!

It's Still August Ya Know

I've pulled out my flannel pajama's. That's right. August = Flannel Pajama Weather. I'm not yet ready to close the window and lock out the fresh air, so I brought out the flannel pajama's. I'm nice and cozy now. Listening to Jennie's playlist in my non-matching flannel pajama's (non-matching because for Christmas one year my parents gave me flannel pajama bottoms with a long sleeve matching pajama top, but the bottoms have a hole in them, and I didn't feel like sewing tonight, so I put on a spare pair of flannel pajama bottoms on...you know you're Canadian when you have spare flannel clothing).

On Thursday I was all ready to go to work for a night shift, and I woke up, was going to go to the bathroom and then sleep some more, but instead, I sat up, turned my head and heard/felt this awful awful grinding in my neck. Apparently one of my vertebrae decided to make a bit of a left turn. I did not go to the bathroom, and I did not go to work because I could not move. The worst part was that I couldn't even look at the drawer where my left over wisdom-teeth-removed-prescription-pain-killers were hiding, let alone get up and go get them. After laying in pain for an hour, trying to sleep off and on, and hoping the pain would magically go away I finally gave up hope and forced myself to move. I took 800mg of Ibuprofen and a Tylenol #4 (who has ever heard of a Tylenol #4???!!!). The prescription said to take a half tablet of the T4, but it's not scored very well, and i had nothing to cut it with, so I took the whole thing. The pain became a little less sharp, but mostly I just slept for a really long time after that. I worked the next 3 nights though, and then this morning I got off work, slept for a bit, and then booked an appointment with a massage therapist who told me that my vertebrae was rotated and that's what was causing the pain. Yay for people who know what's oin on. And massages!

Work was crazy ridiculous over the weekend too. We were short. Bad things happened. I had 8 patients for a little while...luckily they were a generally loveable bunch of people. I love my job. I do. I think I lose focus on that a lot when I can't be good at my job, but I do love my patients.

I think it's time to heat up my wheat bag, and curl up under the blankets in my flannel pajama's and sleep until forever.

Happy night to you.

To Put it Bluntly

I trusted where I ought not have.
All that's left to do is run.
But this time no mistakes!
Go where no one is close already.
And let no one in that close.
No mistakes.
Not anymore.
I'll hide my face, driven by hurt, behind a wall of bricks.

11 Minutes

I'm making rice to go with my stir fry. There are 11 minutes left until it's done. So I'm going to type fast. Or slow. Depending on what comes to mind in the next 11 minutes.

I got up at 6:30 this morning to go biking with Jennie. Then I came home and walked the dog. Then I had a nectarine and some blueberries for breakfast. Read some Harry Potter while playing tug-of-war with IV using my feet and drinking tea. I then walked with Jennie to the Misericordia and picked up an application so that I can apply to see if I can work in the Urgent Care clinic there.

Then I went back to sleep. Then I got up again. And now I'm listening to music and making stir-fry.

You know when you buy "Spicy Schezuan Sauce" and you think you can handle it....well I don't think I can. So it will be little bites of stirfry and then big gulps of milk. That's my plan. Lots of rice too.

I love how music makes me think of so many things. Hoppipola reminds me of the wedding I was just at, and my poor little fish. Africa makes me think of Kate. Alberta Bound makes me think of Iqaluit. And actually, a lot of the most recently added songs remind me of Scrubs because I got most of them from watching the show.

Oh. 5 seconds left. Goodbye. Going to enjoy some rice now. :)

In Loving Memory

On July 15, 2009 Thing II passed away at the age of 5 years and 10 months (which in fish years is approximately 140 years). He lived a full life, travelling from Breton, AB to Strathmore, AB, then moving to Edmonton, and finally making the trek across the Canadian prairies to Winnipeg, MB. He has gone on to join his friend and companion Thing I. Thing II is survived by his owner Katie, and his co-pet IV. The service was held July 17, 2009 at 5:45 pm. He was remembered fondly, and Hoppipola by Sigur Ros was played as the toilet was flushed (twice, to make sure he would not be regurgitated as the plumbing is not 100% reliable). He will be remembered fondly by all who knew him.

Camp and Such

Recently I was asked to come out and be a camp nurse. It was a great time. Of course it was Teen Camp...so the campers scare me to death and I can find no way to talk or relate with them at all. I realize that all that is really needed is a question and they can pretty much just talk from there...the trouble is finding the question that is a good one. Not one of those "How's school?" questions...and when I don't know anything about someone there's not a whole lot that I don't feel stupid asking. Perhaps that's my problem. It's not really about me.

The speakers spoke on Psalms. I like the Psalms. You get the whole gamut of emotions in there. I think I'd like to read them again. If only I could actually make myself read the Bible. Period. Ever. Anything. One of the messages was about getting through storms, and how Jesus calmed the storm when they were walking through it. To be encouraged that God is the Shepherd, and he will lead us by still waters, and take care of us through the storm. And I got to thinking about how I don't really and truly believe this. I want to believe it. But I see everyone in their storms. Those are the people I see day to day. People in the midst of "storms". I want to be able to trust God with them, but somewhere, somehow I lost my trust in Him. And I'm a little bit lost with that. Part of me says "Oh well, whatever, he should have fixed everything" and the other part says "Well, you know he can't just go around saying "yes" to everyone's requests...You've seen Bruce Almighty, you know what happens." I want to see the big picture. I like rock solid answers. I don't understand trust. I have a hard time trusting people so I should have seen this coming.

I'm so conflicted. I feel sure that a large part of my support system would see this as a good thing. Not thinking in terms like "God has a plan". But, honestly, what's wrong with believing that? It's brave to believe that somehow God will come through despite the darkness that's been going on. I've been in conversation with a friend who lost a lot in the last few months, and her hope and prayer is that God will be present and still be praised. She and her family want to leave an impression of God's love despite all they've been through. And my gut reaction is "That's so cliche" but my heart longs to feel that way too. To be so confident. To have such faith. To trust. And I know that to be able to truly say with confidence, "God has a plan, He has my best interests at heart" is not something that we don't struggle with. It's not an easy thing to say. It's even harder to believe it.

So, if you think of it, and feel like you can, say a little prayer for me. Pray for Trust. Pray I'd understand what it is and how to use it.

In other news. I've been working what feels like a lot, but probably isn't, since I'm not working any overtime shifts yet, just a little less than full time.

Right now Jennie is writing a paper and I'm just chilling on her bed writing this blog and playing this game...so far I've collected 710 grains of rice, and Jennie's written a page and a half of her paper. Go Jennie!! You can do it!

I overdosed on sleepy drugs last night and was so groggy this morning I could barely wake up. Next time I'll take NyQuil OR Benadryl...not both.

Yesterday I went to a baseball game. Not a huge fan of baseball. But when any game is tied, it's really hard not to start to get into it...but 5 extra innings is a lot to ask from someone who doesn't care a whole lot.

This weekend is folk fest. Not exactly my scene since I don't like crowds and get annoyed by drunk people pretty easily. So a crowd of drunk people would probably stress me out a lot more than is reasonable. So I'm glad I'm not there.

I don't really know what else to say here. I've seen some cute babies, had some funny conversations, had some good conversations, met some new people. As Daryl Worley says " It sounds like life to me".