"The result is a truly cosmopolitan experience—a North American city with a distinctly European charm and flair."

This defines so many of my hopes for the future. Once more, I find myself in a dreaming state. My friends are back home for holiday and they inspire me without realizing the potential harm. Thank God for their not-knowing. Because what else are friends for?

It's true that I'll return to school next fall. To achieve that which I promised my parents' I would. And what I promised myself. A bachelor's degree. And I've finally figured out what subject to major in--photojournalism. Finally. A focus. A goal is set. And I'll be attending one of Washington's finest universities, a place I never thought I'd go due to financial limitations. I'm so thankful for parents who passionately care about my future and happiness.

So now, as I wait, I continue to daydream. Of all the things that will happen before I start school and skipping to the end, foreseeing what I hope will happen afterward. The list of things Pre-Education include: 1) working at Eastside Dog, 2) selling more paintings on eBay, 3) establishing a cliental photography business, and 4) making more money in any legal shape or form I can. Post-Education: 1) Travel.

But here's the funny thing.

I never found anyone to use my Canadian WestJet airline credit. When I finally thought I had, something quite bad happened and prevented it once more. Nothing to cry over, but I can certainly whine.

Therefore. I refuse to watch $500 go screaming down the crapper. No no. Maybe someone else can watch their hard-earned American money wash away, but not me.

Leah leaves for Lithuania in January. Ryan goes to Romania in March. Travis is already in Poland. For pete's sake! Michelle is traveling to the States!

I'm not letting this opportunity go by.

For the last nine (or so) months, I have avoided any possible thought of visiting Canada. Because I don't want to visit Canada. I want my $500 back. But if that's not possible, than perhaps it's not (dare I say it?) in God's mighty plan that I get it back. Perhaps what I thought was a mistake in life (buying the ticket) is actually a minor fluke. Quickly remedied.

I'll take the trip.

Three nights ago, for the first time, I searched online for possible places to visit. First on my list? But Ottawa of course. The land where mighty Jets do roam. Since we've been friends, he has tried time over time to convince me that Ottawa is "the place to be." Overflowing with culture and environmental diversity, he may as well referred to it as the "heaven on earth," because that's how he made it sound. However, strong-willed, I did not heed what he had to say. A simple nod and "Uh-huh, Jetchick," is all the response I'd give. Because just about everyone brags about the place they live. I certainly love Seattle and think it's perfect in many ways. Why should John be any different?

Well. I don't know much, but I've seen the pictures and I've read the articles, and I've discovered something rather remarkable--Ottawa appears quite lovely. To tell you the perfect and honest truth, this caught me completely off guard.

I have a fake uncle. Uncle Dick. A man who isn't a sibling to either of my parents but who is so wickedly cool, it's only right that I add "Uncle" to his name. Originally, he is from Quebec. He grew up there and moved to the States when he turned 12 years old. He has since forgotten his native French Canadian language, but says, "It comes back to me whenever I go to visit." And he visits often. He'll be at my parents' house tomorrow morning and he will strongly effect my decision on whether or not Ottawa is the place I'll visit.

Believe it or not, despite my darting around the subject, I've really opened my heart up here. Comparitively. The fact is that I'm taking a minibreak sometime (and soon) and it'll be somewhere in Canada and I'll be going alone and many will have complaints about it all. Because I am apparently rash and naive and ignorant and foolish and have absolutely no clue as to what I'm doing. And I say that all in pride.

I received a belated Christmas present today. From a woman I housesat for way-back-when. A lovely lady and a suprising gift from someone such as herself. She left it at the store for me to pick up. I promptly opened it and discovered what was a lovely calendar. With lovely months. And lovely pictures. Of firefighters. Who'd lost their shirts. Probably while they were fighting fires, I bet. Their sleeves catch on a rusty nail or a few coals slip into there collars, catching them on fire, turning them to ash. So all these shirtless firemen are walking around and it's just their luck too because they didn't have the time to find new shirts before the photographer took their pictures.

Shoot.

It will hang in our kitchen for all to see. Because after losing their shirts for the sake of saving peoples' lives, I suspect it's only right if their pictures can be seen by all. Respect and admiration comes at a high cost. Like someone's only white T-shirt.

Having courage means risking anything and everything for those in dire need. Even if it means losing your shirt. Yes... Even that...

Picture Essay in a Minute Thought



"Oh, boy-o," I said to the lad. "You'd like to know where these railroad tracks lead?"

"Yes, Da. Very much."

Oh boy-o, so very much.

I wanted you to hear me say it...

Classic.

The night went well. I only got to play two songs, but I was okay with that. My entire family showed up for it, blessing my heart out. About a dozen other friends showed up as well. The coffee house was brimming with my family and friends. Quite an amazing sound of applause came just when I was announced "on deck." I get goosebumps all over my arms just thinking about the sound of their clapping. I think I even heard someone whistle. And I'm thankful for Jon Johnson, otherwise I wouldn't have had the opportunity to play that beautiful Gretsch. A lovely evening. We should do it again sometime.

Vote Me for Mayer

I was watching him being interviewed by Barbara Walters a few weeks back. He was so adorable, I just want you to date him. - Mom on John Mayer

You are like, the female version of John Mayer. - Amy, my roommate

Just have John Mayer's babies, already. Don't marry him. Just have his babies. - John Jetchick, of the Jets variety

Life Updated

I got my paycheck this morning. Thrilled.

I had chicken tortilla soup for dinner. You will never know the significance of that.

I drove to Seattle. Through 5:00 traffic. I got lost. I arrived at my destination after an hour and thirty minutes. I made it back home alive.

I recorded four new songs with the help of Jon Johnson.

I'm ready to play the open mic tomorrow. You should come.

I still believe the previous post rules. And always will.

Sleep well. As I do now.

Jets, go all the way!

A Christmas Hymn
- my friend, Benj

Word became flesh, among us dwelt,
Through sin and hate, His love we felt,
Beheld His truth and grace unknown,
How very God wore flesh and bone.

He fully God and fully man,
To virgin born, as was His plan,
Who made the stars, formed all the lands,
Is closely held in Mary’s hands.

From up on high, down low He came,
Humbled Himself, neglected fame,
In form of child, heaven to earth,
In manger lay, by virgin birth.

So Infant King, we now shall laud,
This Holy Child, The Son of God,
To call His sheep, to save the lost,
Erase out debt, he paid our cost.

I'll be playing this song (lyrics by Benj, music by me) this upcoming Saturday at Victor's Coffee Co. in Redmond. Please come. It would be nice to see you.

I remember pulling him out of the street when I thought cars were going to hit us. It seemed the only logical thing to do, as the older and protective sister. I managed to save our bikes too in that little incident. I remember watching him get his stomach pumped when he consumed a dangerous amount of my great grandmother's pills. I remember screaming at him to stop dancing obnoxiously in front of the television while I watched my cartoons. I remember holding his hand when we crossed in front of the school bus every morning and every afternoon. I remember grabbing a little boy's head into my hands and threatening to "pop it like a pimple" if he tried to bully my brother again. I remember three seperate times where I used my right arm as a restraint in those few "close calls" with other cars. I remember when he was a full foot shorter than me.

And I will never forget the first time he was able to give me a piggy-back ride around the entire house. Like a man, he hoisted me about with ease. And how I laughed and giggled and shouted for my mom to "Look! Look at what Kyle's doing!" while he danced around the Christmas tree with me strapped around his waist.

My "little" brother is not so little anymore. Ultimately, to my surprise. And delight. For until tonight, I have not had a real piggy-back ride since I was a whopping 65 pounds. Good grief... It has been far too long.

So true. So true...

Where contemporary Christian music dresses things up, seeing everything with a giddy disposition, a goofy smile, and a lollipop, [David Bazan of Pedro the Lion] tears things down to the basest realities of man. Bazan’s music is the Theology of the Cross to CCM’s Theology of Glory. It does not lift man up to where he is not. Neither does it put man down to where he is not. It shows natural man as natural man.

Sometimes people wonder how a Christian artist, such as Bazan, can write such dark lyrics. Call them dark, call them uncomfortable, call them depressing, but I will call them Biblically-informed. The more I listen to Bazan’s songs, the more I come to trace clearly Biblical ideas about man, life, and reality. He sees the world not through the rose-tinted glasses of CCM, but through the Word of God. - my friend, Benj

People are so beautiful when they don't realize anyone's watching.

The following pictures were taken at a Common Heroes show located at Studio 7 in Seattle.



I honestly don't know why more people won't randomly walk up to strangers and ask to take their picture. People are so beautiful and fascinating, it was such a wonderful time taking their pictures tonight. I have a feeling that with each person's picture I took, I brightened their day somehow. Because of the flattery of it all. "May I take your picture?" I ask. "But why?" they respond. "Because you are beautiful and I'd really like to capture that." If you ask me, that would blow my mind and make my day all at once if I were on the other side of the lens.

Tonight's Happenings.

carly says:
I got hit on tonight by some guy who apparently already KNEW me. Ready for a story? Do you have a little time?

steph says:
Yes.

carly says:
Okay!! So mom had this thing tonight with Reading with Rover and it's hosted at Barnes&Noble. And she asked me to come and take pictures of the event and she would pay me for it. So it was a crazy night because I was running into people all over the place. People who were like, "You're Becky's daughter?" and "Hey, you work at Eastside Dog!" and stuff like that. So I was running around like nuts just having a good time.

At one point, I needed to ask mom a question, so I went up to her. Well, she was in the middle of talking to some guy. Apparently he was interested in the program. Well, before I could ask her anything, she turned me to him and said, "Carly! This is Mike. Mike, this is my daughter, Carly."

I turned and I shook his hand and he looked at me and he says, "I know you..."

I did NOT know him. So I was like, "Whahuh?"

And he goes, "Woodinville High School, right? I went to school with you."

I honestly had no idea who he was and I felt awful. Because I thought maybe he was an old friend or something. "When did you graduate?" I asked.

"2001."

"Hmm... I graduated in 2002, so I'm really not sure... You do seem kind of familiar though."

"I'm Mike Snyder. My sister is Ashley Snyder."

Still didn't ring a bell. Even the Ashley Snyder thing. I wasn't putting it together. So I was like, "Well, it was great seeing you again!" and I scampered off.

Well... He kind of followed me and stort of "bumped" into me again and we started talking and he was asking me what I was doing as of late and I told him about work and about how I'm looking to play more open mics and stuff... And this intrigued him because he is apparently a musician himself. So I was like, "Oh, that's nice," and I ran off again.

Well, he found me later and handed me a piece of paper with his number on it and he said he wanted to get together and "make music." I was confused and I said, "But you've never heard my stuff."

"I'd like to. What are you doing tomorrow? Can I take you out to coffee or maybe dinner?" I thought to myself, What the heck?! So he kept asking for what my music sounded like, so I took him to the music section of B&N and I started making him listen to things like Nick Drake and Rosie Thomas and stuff--people I kinda "sound" like, ya know? And he was saying, "Gosh! I love your style! This is so awesome!" He ended up staying with me the whole time I was there and then he walked me out to my car and he asked for my number and he put it in his cell phone... I just kept thinking, Gah. NOT INTERESTED. I am already regretting this... But I felt too bad to say that to his face. So now he has my number... Luckily, I only gave him my home phone though. Not my cell number. That would just be a serious pain. Do you know who he is?? He said he lived in White Oaks! And I was like, "DUDE! How is it that I don't know you???"

steph says:
I DO know who he is!

carly says:
YOU DO???

steph says:
Hahaha. That is hilarious.

carly says:
I know!!

steph says:
He is a few years older.

carly says:
Well... He graduated in 2001. I figure he's 21 by now. He told me to call him tomorrow and I really don't know if I should.

steph says:
Is he cute?

carly says:
Oh yeah... He's cute.

steph says:
Well that's good. Haha.

carly says:
Mom called me and was like, "Did that guy ask you out?!?!?!?" And I said, "Yeah... But I dunno mom... He kind of creeped me out. He was totally trippy... And he smokes and he smelt like cigarettes..." And she goes, "Oh, he does?? Drat... Well just go out with him for the experience of it." But I don't know.

steph says:
Hmmmmm. It's totally your call. Cuz the thing is, if you call him, you might later want to get rid of him. I dunno if he is clingy or whatever.

carly says:
I don't think I'll go out with him. He wanted to get together and jam on guitars, so I might just ask him to come over and play some music.

steph says:
Just don't be overly nice.

carly says:
I don't know... He was totally trying to flirt with me too. It was soooo funny. Note the following convo:

carly: Gosh, your face does seem very familiar.
mike: Well, I've definitely seen you. I saw you all the time in school.
carly: Really? That is so funny.
mike: Yeah... You have changed a lot...
carly: Uhm...
mike: I mean that in the great way.

steph says:
OMG. He did NOT! Hahahahaha!

carly says:
HE DID!!!

steph says:
See the thing that bothers me is that he actually used pickup lines and something about that just kinda screams "a-hole" to me, but I dunno...

carly says:
No, he definitely seems like the a-hole type. He was just putting on a show for me so I'd go out with him. But I figure if he really wants to get together and play guitar, fine. That's what we'll do.

steph says:
Haha. Well, just don't let him come on too strong.

carly says:
Pfft. He is so skinny, Steph. I could take him easy.

steph says:
Hahaha.

And I still have no idea what I should do or what I want to do. Because I'm really not interested. Really... not... interested...

Here's a question for those who have experienced a "failed" relationship or multiple thereof. Have you noticed that after the initial breakup, the addiction you have to the other person is a completely seperate struggle? To purposefully remove every aspect of that person from your life seems a cruel betrayal? But unless you do, your emotionals will never fully repair themselves or allow you to accept the fact that it is truly over.

For the last week, I have become more and more aware of the truth behind "out of sight, out of mind." I feel like a backstabbing wench, but at least I don't have to worry anymore or see myself as the source for someone else's pain. I have moved on and now, my actions can prove it.

After all, he broke up with me. Why have I felt so guilty? These last weeks have been overwhelmingly joyful. The magical moments have been heaps. For the life of me, I can't seem to grasp the fact that I really did nothing wrong. It wasn't me. I'm still lovely, I'm still desirable, and one day, the whole world will know.

Brought to you by the following happy moment.



Upcoming Happy Moments:

The return of Ryan from New Brunswick.

The return of Leah and Sarah from British Columbia.

The return of Stephanie from Tacoma.

We were dancing in the rain
under the moonlight
and it didn't make any sense at all

It was just you, me, and the night
we could see the end of summer
just a few miles ahead

In the end we'd go our seperate ways
move on in life and find someone new
but I'll never forget this night
when it was just you and me
dancin in the rain til morning
and it didn't make any sense at all

- my friend Jessica

Such a moment cannot go without mentioning. And in great detail.

Daniella works with me at Eastside Dog. She's a 40-something professional florist who is temporarily working for Sue during the holiday season. She's almost 4'11" and she cannot reach most things sitting at the same level as my eyes. Therefore, she is cute, plump, and oh-so-fun to watch when she can't reach something. A very nice lady.

As usual, the store was buzzing with activity. Even weekdays can be chaos during this time of year. The Christmas music is on "continuous play" and while Daniella busies herself with customers, I put my organizing skills to use and the whole store back in order. Before I know it, six hours has passed and my shift is over. So I gather my things and make my way out the door.

While I bundled myself in my cozy jacket and scarf, Daniella joined me behind the counter. Quite randomly, she asked, "Are you a performer?"

This caught me off guard because mostly, no one knows my passion for music. Daniella especially since she's only been working for the last three weeks.

"What do you mean by 'performer'?" I asked, desperately trying to hide my blushing smile.

Daniella caught my expression, "I bet you sing."

"I like to."

"I know, I've heard you. Humming and singing all day today."

I laughed. Not sure what to say.

She continued, "So you're trying to 'make it' right?"

"You mean professionally?"

"Yeah."

"I'd like to. I'm trying whenever I can."

"Good."

I started to head for the front doors. "In case you're interested, I'm playing an open mic on the night of Saturday the 20th."

Daniella laughed, "That's the night I'm covering your shift."

"Oh... Right."

"Good luck then."

"Thanks."

I love it when people read me like that. It reminds me of what I'd like to be and what I dream of being. I imagine the conversation I had with Daniella is better than any psychic reading I could ever have. An immense amount more of encouragement and motivation in that brief one-minute discussion than in a lifetime of palm readings.

When you love, the whole world should know.

I filled out one of those online surveys the other day. The kind that asks random and sometimes personal questions. I actually received it from Jenn and I figured I'd fill it out because I was bored. One of the questions intrigued me and at that time, I wasn't sure how to respond, so I gave a quick answer and moved on to the next. But after today, I wish I could answer it again. The question was What commercial(s) really makes you want to buy something? My quick answer was "Those facial scrub products. They look so refreshing." I read that to myself now and think, Pathetic. You are as deep as a flipping kiddie pool.

Amy and I woke up this morning without any power. The wind was howling and knocked down a tree nearby. Instead of waiting for power to simply return, we decided to venture out and make a day of it. By the time we got back, we hoped power would be back too.

Amy treated me to lunch so I decided to take her out to a movie. We'd both wanted to see Love Actually starring our favorite sexy older British man, Hugh Grant. On our way to the theater, something caught my eye. A weeping willow dancing in the wind, literally. Another magical moment I could not pass up. I pulled over and Amy and I both jumped out of the car. I grabbed my camera and starting shooting. I wish the picture(s) could express to you what it was like to be there, but it can't. Still, it may give you some kind of idea.

From the willow, we continued on. After making a few other stops--a music shop, a pet store, and a grocery store parking lot--we finally got to our movie. We arrived and no one was there, hence the reason for more picture taking. Not often do you walk into a theater playing a popular movie and be the only one or two persons there. It was another magical moment all our own.

But then we watched the movie. By its end, I was consumed in thought. Thoughts of magic and Christmas, of God and Spirit, of love and romance. Movies tend to have a long-lasting effect on my subconscious and I've been silently contemplating ever since.

So by now, you're probably wondering what I wish I could change my answer to. After all that, I can hear you saying, "Okay. You had a great day. What does that have anything to do with the survey question?" Well, nothing really. Only just that it wasn't a commercial that makes me want to buy something and it's not something I want to buy. Rather, it's a movie that makes me yearn for a place I'd like to go. Whenever I see anything having to do anything with London, I wish like none other to go there. To live there. Just for a while. Just for the experience. And now I'm only wondering if I'll ever make that happen. I don't want to be a hypocrite and just wait for something great to come my way. I want to pursue that which I think is magical and beautiful and unlike anything I ever thought I'd have the guts to do.

These are just thoughts I'm having. I haven't said that I'm flying off to London and I have no intentions on saying anything like that soon. I'd just like to go and I wish that would happen for me.

I'm sorry for lack of depth right now, but I just love...

Dialogue
Rosie Thomas

Can you help me figure out all of these things?
I'm restless, I feel reckless
I'm holding on by a string

No, I can't I'm just as broken
I'm just as damaged as you
I'm so tired
I'm uninspired
Half dying in this living room

Oh, where do I go?
Oh, all on my own?

I can't walk in a straight line when
I don't know what I'm heading for
Just keep trying
No more lying to yourself anymore

Oh, where do we go?
Oh, nobody knows

A good time ago, Travis asked to see pictures of my "new" apartment. Well, I've been living here for three months now, so it isn't quite so new anymore. However, I'm sure his curiousity still plagues him, as it does mine to see where he lives in Poland. So the following are shots I took just today. Hope you all enjoy seeing where it is I live, exactly.


This is the sign planted at the edge of our parking lot entrance. Obviously, as you can probably read, I live in a place called "Juanita Brook" and I quite like it here.


This is my parking spot. That is my car. I'm registered to space "22" and lucky for me, I have an overhang. So in the morning, while most cars have a sheet of ice gracing their windshields, my car's windshield is completely clear.


This is our front patio thing. We don't really have a yard, but it's decent. I think we're lucky enough to live on the bottom floor of the complex. The furniture has been there since I moved here. I only noticed it when my sister joked about how truly funny and "classy" it is to have some chairs and a small dresser sitting on the patio. Cassie always has a knack for seeing the comedy in things such as placement of furniture. I thought it was hilarious.

And the twinkly lights were my little touch.


Our front door. Number "102" on a plate of gold so elegantly placed over a lovely shade of green. Enter and be dazzled. Or not...


When you first walk into the apartment, you might notice the dining room first. Right now, we have ornament makings and decorations from Ben Franklin all over the dinner table. All our glittered, glitsy and glued creations will be ready to hang when we bring our Christmas tree home tomorrow.


If you don't notice the dining room first off, then you will probably notice the living room. It's typical. There's a couch and a long coffee table. You can't see it, but we also have a fireplace, which is convenient. There's a lamp and some shingles which cover the sliding glass window, preventing any Peeping Toms from getting a free show. Like there's anything really to show.


Once you hit the hallway, you've officially seen half the apartment. If you turn around, you'll see the front door again, but from the other side. Not much to look at yet, but I'm still thinking about how to jazz it up.


The kitchen. Small but exactly what we need. Dishwasher, sink, microwave, fridge. We've got it all. And if you come to visit me, I'll make one mean bowl of Top Ramen for you. Just for you. You can see the other side of the kitchen here.


So keep down the hallway and turn left and you'll find our bathroom. Yes, I did put the cover of the toilet seat down before taking this picture. I also have a picture of our shower and our sink and mirror too. Check them out.


I'll give you a sneak peek at Amy's room. Just a cracked door reveals an abundant amount of information about the girl. You only need to know what to look at.


So lastly, I will take you through the complexity of my room. Supposedly, you're about to see where "the magic" happens. Starting with my door. This is my door. It's a normal door, I figure. Nothing much special about it. Although, the white-board does give it a certain edge. I never know when I might find a new message written for me there. The door is exciting almost.


This would be my bed without any sheets. My sheets and pillow cases are currently tossing in the dryer. I like having clean sheets, so excuse the look of my cluttered bed. This is life, people. Life without sheet.


Turn your head slightly left and downward and you'll find my work area. This is where I sit and paint things. Notice the giant slab of cardboard and colorful oil and acrylic smears? Painting something beautiful is an ugly business. Ugly and messy. You can also see Amy's laundry in the basket there. That's kind of cool.


I'd say this is where the real magic happens. The blogger magic. That and Strong Bad emails. The other corner of my room isn't all too special, but you can still look at it if you like. And when you turn around and look back, you'll see what hangs above my bed and all that. Generally, I think my room is pretty awesome. Cluttered and unorganized, but still just right for me.

So there you have it. That's my apartment in all its splendor and glory. I love living here with Amy and Josser and having our own little family together. We are quite happy and loving this time of year. It's getting colder and the smell of pine seems to be everywhere. I bundle myself up in a scarf everyday now and my nose and cheeks turn pink shortly after I go outside. It's probably the season, but I also believe this joy comes from knowing a really nice God.

Welcome to the month of December. I hope you enjoy it as much as I have already started to. Take time to smell the gingerbread cookies--it'll only be around for the next three and a half weeks or so.