the very warmth of my blood seems stolen away

I traipsed through High Park one evening last week. Toronto rested, naively, in its pre-blizzard/ice/snow storm state, the temperature hovered around -5 degrees, light snow fell in slow motion, the air was so still the puffs of my breath lingered a half-beat longer than usual, and the twilight gave the trees an eerie, blue glow. The forest was absolutely silent.

The beauty was breathtaking. The beauty crippled me. The beauty, in contrast to the abscess that gnaws at my heart daily, highlighted Something That Was Missing. Not sure what.

I've waded through melancholic moments before (they keep me regular) and, upon reflection, I wonder if this one is merely the result of the first winter spent entirely on Canadian soil. I generally live by a strict regiment of winter-evading by flying to the UK in February or March; 2007 is the first year in six that I haven't had the opportunity.

"And yet...Since I left New York, haven't the winds blown less hard, less often? Hasn't there been a kind of wrench every time we leave a place, a kind of regret? I think there has. Twenty-five years, and at last the spring has begun to grow tired, just as my mother grew tired in the final years. I find myself looking at the sun and wondering what it would be like to see it rise above the same horizon for five - maybe ten, maybe twenty - years. The thought fills me with a strange dizziness, a feeling of fear and longing."
- Joanne Harris ("Chocolate")

a vision in white

Miss Kate Dias, my bosom friend of five years (ish), became Mrs. Kate Graham on Feburary 24th, 2007.

I laughed, I cried, I danced my shoes off. Literally.

Kate couldn't have looked more divine. Honestly. I've seen this woman in plenty of outfits, looking plenty hot, and this day surpassed them all. I haven't quite pinpointed an adjective adequate enough to describe the day, or the beauty of it, or my honour at being the Maid by the same name...but it was amazing. And just what I had always imagined. Only better.





Highlights:

The ladies.

The gents.

Paul's face as Kate glides down the aisle.

Chloe - the cutest child on Planet Earth.

The very necessary Tim Horton's run during photographs.

Thanking the Bringer of Tim Horton's.

B-gorgeous LIUNA Station in Hamilton.

Duncan, the Dancing Accountant. All night long. Solo.

Lots more picture here (courtesy of the lovely Joey DeCaire).


"It's all pretty much as I used to imagine it long ago, when I wept over your inevitable marriage and our consequent parting," she laughed. "You are the bride of my dreams, Diana, with the `lovely misty veil'; and I am YOUR bridesmaid."

"We are not really parting, Anne," protested Diana. "I'm not going far away. We'll love each other just as much as ever. We've always kept that `oath' of friendship we swore long ago, haven't we?"

"Yes. We've kept it faithfully. We've had a beautiful friendship, Diana. But things can't be quite the same after this. You'll have other interests. I'll just be on the outside."

Anne of the Island, Lucy Maud Montgomery

back to basics

You might not like what I'm about to say.

That's OK. I understand. I don't really always like what I'm about to say either but...well...it's been a long road of trying to sit on the other side of the fence and, let me tell you, it's exhausting.

Last night, preparing for my cell group, I found an old note that someone had written me. The note is pretty out of character for this woman to write: she's feisty, smart, independant, a fighter...sometimes to a fault. Through a long and arduous journey, she's come to some interesting - and uncharacteristic - conclusions about life, love, marriage and what it means to be a woman, designed by God.

Mark 10:35-45 (Living translation)
1 Corinthinans 1:27-31
Hebrews 11:251
Corinthians 12:10

I have come to see that women are made to be responders not initiators. A woman who initiates is bitter. Men, maybe because of hurts, have withdrawn from initiating and women are frustrated and angry at the lethargy - however, our job now is to heal, love, support and encourage until the men can get up and fight again; not judge, override and usurp them. That only keeps them down and makes us more bitter without knowing why. This mental pattern is a stronghold and a bondage over our society so don't expect to break out of it easily; it will take a fight - much prayer and submission to the obedience of the King. That doesn't mean we be quiet: we can yell for them to get up, at the same time routing for them and serving them.

I believe this, however, I am not a good example. I have come to this understanding, however, I was not taught it either by my mother, church or schools. I was taught to compete, to aspire, to acheive my "full potential"; but the world doesn't know or see, to be fulfilled, you must empty yourself. To serve is our job and therefore becomes our "full potential". Learn it. Selfish ambition leads to great emptiness and confusion.

It reminds me of something I was reminded of recently on Angela's blog: a conversation I had with a hilarious Liverpuddlian woman about her relationship with her husband and a discussion we had about submission in marriage. "I obey my husband," she says, "and all he has to do is worship me."

I'm still working this out. Submitting doesn't always come naturally to me - I'm a first-born, Irish, extroverted, type A personality. And a human.

Any words of wisdom from married women out there? Men? Unmarrieds? Other humans struggling with submission?

love, actually

To quote a hot pianist (other than A., who is, clearly, the hottest): "What a Difference a Day Makes". And, in this case, what a difference a year makes.

This time last year, I was skipping around the U.K. on a spiritual quest (a trip during which, I just realized, A. added comments on nearly every one of my blog posts...and I looked forward to them), finding peace in being myself, seeing old friends, new cities, enjoying a different bed/couch/futon every three days, and really REALLY enjoying being single.

Well, as much as one can when one is single.

I just took a stroll down bloglane to discover that A. and I practically started dating before we were ever in the same country. On Valentine's Day last year, our posts said it all:

Andrew: HAPPY SINGLES AWARENESS DAY
Sarah: LUNCH WITH LEWIS

Since the e-flirting was so thick (yes, I admit it, I was e-flirting) how could we have avoided hooking up at Billy & Sarah's wedding? In fact, I scoured my Hotmail archives and found proof that I must have had romance on the mind:

"I’ve been planning out my outfit for Sarah Nicking’s wedding (March 10th), and it will include silver flats. I’ll want to be killer cute that day, because Sarah’s a TACF and YWAM girl and, therefore, there might be eligible Ghostie bachelors in attendance."

Two days ago, I received the following email:

From: Facebook
Reply-To: Andrew Gazaneo
Sent: February 9, 2007 12:03:36 PM
To: Sarah-Aubrey Hunter
Subject: Andrew Gazaneo has said you two are in a relationship...

Andrew says that you two are in a relationship on Facebook. We need you to confirm that you are, in fact, in a relationship with Andrew. To confirm this relationship request, follow the link below: http://www.facebook.com/home.

Thanks,
The Facebook Team

I don't know why, but I found it absolutely hilarious.

Yes, Facebook Team and anyone else in question, I am, in fact, in a relationship with Andrew. This question might have sent me into a state of panicked analysis nine months ago ("Am I? Am I not? Is Facebook deciding my fate?") but now I'm pretty sure that Andrew's here to stay.

Happy Valentine's Day, La.

googe

This must be embarassing. Go to the website...before they realize that their name is missing an "l".

commencing countdown, engine's on

Just a few more pointers (from the recruiters at the office where I work):

1. Have a vague idea of why you came.
2. Have a vague idea of who you came to meet with.
3. Don't have your girlfriend fill out a spell test for you.
4. If she does, make sure she gets more than 32/56.
5. Write legibly.
6. When you ask permission to have one of the display apples, don't take three.
7. Don't stare at your interviewer's breasts.

ground control to major tom

When applying/interviewing for a job, here are a list of tips that might come in handy:

1. Speak English. At least a little.
2. Wear deoderant. At least a little.
3. Don't dress like P. Diddy.
4. Don't misspell your name. Twice.
5. If a door doesn't open when you push it, try pulling.
6. Spritz cologne/perfume, don't douse.
7. When asked what your preferred salary is, don't respond, "As much as possible."