“It’s odd that the first woman with a shot at becoming president is so openly dependent on her husband to drag her over the finish line.”

~ Maureen Dowd, New York Times

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Tearing down our life in Louisiana then immediately re-building it here in Ontario has remarkably only taken about one month. I’m amazed.

It probably took six months to get to the same place when we went south, and after that we were still waiting on my husband’s immigration. There seemed to be a lot more hurdles.

But then perhaps it’s due to the fact that our life up here was sort of waiting in the wings while we were away. In so many cases, we simply had to let so and so know that we were back and it was almost as if we’d never left, as if Mom never died, as if no one had ever said all those things.

Communication being the key to life, I think it can also be the poison. Not the good honest kind mind you, but the angry mean variety. There are things people have said to me that I don’t think that I will ever forget but desperately wish I could. And because of it all, my self-esteem is shot.

A couple days ago, I spent all day driving to every nursing home and retirement community in this city to drop off my resume. I was a wobbly nervous mess every time I got out of the car.

Putting myself out there has never been my strong point. My parents, through high school and university, never asked me to work. My education was my job. But there were a couple instances for some reason that I did want to try to carry school and work and I went out into the wide world and applied.

A top student, involved in all manner of school and community activities, and I only ever got one interview. Even worse, I was never hired for a regular job. My resume is a long list of jobs on campus, at church or from friends.

I fear rejection way too much. So much so that even I am blind to my good points.

Once I had a patient see right through me. I was entering the back door of the hospital very early on a cold morning in Louisiana. (Yes, those do happen.) He was wrapped in a blanket, still in his wheelchair, outside smoking his cigarette as he wasn’t supposed to be doing. He took one look at me and said in his raspy emphysematic voice, “Show some courage when you’re going into work!”

Sticks and stones. Why do I let them bother me?

Ps. A nice pair of black shoes and booming rendition of We are the Champions can help. lol

I felt so nice and swanky in them as I dropped off more resumes today. This time at a children’s clothing shop then the public library who are both currently hiring.

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Whenever I have missed someone’s presence, it has been my habit to remember them at Mass.

And in its essence, with our presence at Mass and it being constantly celebrated all over the world and the whole cohort of angels and saints being present as well, doesn’t it seem to you that not only is it a blessed occasion to receive the Son’s offering but that it’s also the closest those of us still hidden from eternal mysteries ever get to those who have gone before?

It occurred to me for the first time today that my mom may be among that number and more present there than anywhere else. And I imagined in my prayers, during my prayers, that she was kneeling beside me and that we could still worship the Word made flesh together.

Where are you going?
Where are you going?
Can you take me with you?
For my hand is cold
And needs warmth
Where are you going?

Far beyond where the horizon lies
Where the horizon lies
And the land sinks into mellow blueness
Oh please, take me with you

Let me skip the road with you
I can dare myself
I can dare myself
I’ll put a pebble in my shoe
And watch me walk (watch me walk)
I can walk and walk!
(I can walk!)

I shall call the pebble Dare
I shall call the pebble Dare
We will talk, we will talk together
We will talk (chorus) about walking
Dare shall be carried
And when we both have had enough
I will take him from my shoe, singing:
“Meet your new road!”
Then I’ll take your hand
Finally glad
Finally glad
That you are here
By my side

By my side
By my side
By my side

(Spoken- Judas)
Then the man they called Judas Iscariot
Went to the chief priests, and said
“What will you give me to betray Him to you?”
They paid him thirty pieces of silver.

(Spoken – other character)
And from that moment, he began to look out for an opportunity
To betray Him.
(Matthew 26:14-16)

By my side
By my side
By my side
By my side

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Once upon a time, there was a little computer game and franchise named Ultima. And when it came home with you, there was the delightful surprise of receiving a cloth map of the world you were about to step into, in addition to the software of course.

Way, way before my heyday with Mr. Mario, my husband was drooling over the image you see above and has faithfully safeguarded it, along with five others from subsequent sequels, over these many years.

Tis quite a feat, I think. And its such a shame for them to be hidden and not honored. So yesterday we spent a gleeful few hours, even keeping the kids up way past their bedtime, planning how to best make them into… something.

The ideas began with a quilt, evolved into a lap blanket, and finally settled into a medieval style banner. The six maps we have will be set on a diagonal in one of two patterns, giving us either one point or two on the bottom to which we can add some colorful fringe. We are thinking of a rich gold or burgundy or teal velveteen as a backdrop with a secondary color to tie them all together. Top it all off with quilted and trimmed symbols in the extra spaces, and I think we are going to have a beauty.

The maps mean nothing to me, but my husband means everything. And as we brainstormed, I could see the joy shining in his eyes and, oh God, I was so happy that I could do this for him.

P.s. I’ll post an update when I get the fabric swatches.

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Through my once eyebrow-deep interest in World of Warcraft – yes, I was that immersed – I heard about a little series of videos being made called The Guild. Imagine a sitcom, but it’s only available on the internet, and it’s not about some cranky doctor or divorced women. It’s a spoof on gamers and gaming, most specifically Warcraft players. I was hooked after the first episode. ROFL can’t even come close.

The brains behind the operation turns out to be an actress named Felicia Day. Maybe you saw her in the TV series, Buffy the Vampire Slayer? I am probably one of the few people to not ever have seen that show, but from her work on The Guild, I was interested enough to click over to her blog. She calls it — The Flog.

She’s spicy and fun, we like the same kinds of books, and although I can’t nearly substantiate the claim on geek that she can, I find her a fun, always entertaining and nicely surprisingly inspirational read. Check her out sometime.

All that background to say this…

I felt a bit guilty when I read one of her recent posts in which she asks her readers what they wanted to hear her write about in ’08. The reason being that she didn’t want her blog to “be an online journal complaining about the wrongs my mother did to me as a child.” Which is when it dawned on me that I write exactly that sort of blog. Oops.

My secret place and journal, not caring too much about readers, but searching for my own sanity and restoration and balance and action in life by being as honest as I can with myself in print and for everyone to see.

It really was a huge deal for me to even put the address of BC on my Facebook profile. I’m sure most friends and family haven’t noticed it hidden among my contact information. But simply the fact that it is available to them makes this place for me a place to say things that I never before considered saying aloud, but that one day I hope to be free enough to say aloud.

Ah, navel gazing. How I love thee.
*blush*
Guess Felicia won’t be over here anytime soon.

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