The Brown Guy #2

First off, I recently learned that Mozilla does not support wingdings or webdings fonts... What does this mean? Well, you firefox users will notice that some of my posts will have a 'ABC' in between paragraphs. This is how I change subjects. But it's actually in wingdings font and what you should be seeing is this:

I know, it's kinda silly. Stupid firefox, just when I was thinking about switching over to you... *shakes head*

ABC
I watched The Ringer last night. It's pretty funny. It's pretty wrong too. But I don't know, they did it in a way that wasn't demeaning either. I'd like to explain, but I'm afraid I might offend somebody. Well, not afraid, because I know some previous posts have been pretty offensive, I'm just too lazy to explain I guess, haha. I'll just say that in the end, I loved all the characters and if they were all real, I wouldn't mind hanging out with them. They're THAT cool. Anyway, go watch it. My favourite lines...

"When the fuck did we get ice cream?!?"
"Hi Lynn! *flex*"
"I don't know youuuuuu!!! *slap slap*"

New comic:



And that my friends, is one of the many reasons why I'm still single.

Have you ever met somebody who made such an impact on you that they're forever branded in the back of your mind? And to further solidify them into your thoughts, they've left your attempts at contact go unanswered? Have you ever missed somebody so much it hurt? That you would do anything to make things right again? Someday my friend, whether in heaven or here on earth, we'll meet again. And when we do, you'll have some splainin to do.

Wookin Pa Nub

Life is fragile. If you were to die today, would you be satisfied? I mean, would you be comfortable with death knowing that you've done everything you've wanted to do? Said everything you've wanted to say? For the most part, I'd say yes. I try to live my life in such a way that would yield no regrets. There are obviously things that I wish I could change or fix, but am powerless to do so, so what's the use in fretting, right?

Seize the day! Carpe Diem!

I think that if you love somebody, you should tell them. Almost a year ago now, I told her how I felt. It obviously hasn't worked out, but I don't regret stepping up to the plate. I knew the consequences of my actions if she didn't feel the same way, and I was prepared for that. Although it stings, I can respect myself knowing I've done everything I could do.

For all you guys (because I think guys should initiate on this): Tell her. Even if you have to write it down and read it aloud to her through a trembling voice, tell her. Even if she doesn't feel the same way, sucks to be her. You had all this love to give, and she threw it away. Save your heart for somebody better. If she was really that amazing, then she would have at least given you a chance. And if she does accept...
Wow. That's all I have to say.

Call me crazy, call me an idealist, call me a romantic. I don't know when or where, but I still believe that someday I'll meet a lady who will like me for my strengths, and love me for my weaknesses.

One day...

I'm gonna read aloud familiar words
And listen for the truth that I never have heard
I'm gonna open up to possibilities
I won't be afraid of where they are leading me...

It's not just the end
Or where we begin
It is in the in betweens
Slowing down
Learning how
To find the life in moments like these
-Geoff Moore (Oldy but goody)

ABC
I saw the Academy Awards tonight. The awards given I'd say were pretty much as expected. I especially enjoyed Lily Tomlin's and Meryl Streep's award giveaway act/speech thing. Quite entertaining. Crash won best picture for its social commentary on racial discrimination. This event has inspired me to revive my old comic that I had started years ago. It first started as a joke, but deep down I realize the need for this comic in this day and age with its need for tolerance. I first submitted it to the Toban, a student-run newspaper at my school. They subsequently rejected it and I heard nothing from them even with the countless emails I sent inquiring about the status of my submission. I eventually gave up. I wasn't really hurt at all, but it amused me very much since the Toban loves to run with controversial articles. What's more, they pride themselves on free speech and giving the students at our school a voice. Part of the reason why I started the comic was because all the comics they published sucked monkey balls. And they had the balls (pun intended) to nix my comic? C'est la vie I suppose.

Anyway, I've started drawing again, and as you can see, I'm quite talented when it comes to drawing. In the words of Ferris Bueller, I "never had one lesson." I don't know why I never thought of this before. I'll be posting a new comic hopefully once a week or bi-weekly or monthly or bi-monthly or semi-annually...



If you know where the title of this post originally comes from, you're super cool.
If you've googled it to find out, I <3 j00!

Asians, Horses, and Mini-Eggs - Oh My!

Went to see Russell Peters about a week ago. It was well worth the 60 bucks. He made so many filipino jokes too! I couldn't stop laughing when he said the karaoke and mini-van jokes. All his accents were awesome too. And a couple chinese guys I knew were sitting in the front row. The guys I was with knew them too and we looked at each other and thought the exact same thing: If he asks Ding his name, it's over. And he did. And it was. Poor Ding.

ABC
"What's your love language, Neil?" Pam asked.

"Food." I replied.

To which everyone unanimously said, "ROFLcopters and LOLerskates."

This happened last year on the Somewhere Else West retreat. We were in our small group and such...

Some other stuff that happened...

I was at the breakfast table one morning sitting beside Nicole Whatsherface. And I reach for the cheese whiz in those little packages and began spreading it on my biscuit...

"EWWWWW" she screamed, as she pointed at my biscuit.

"What?"

"That is sooooo gross."

"What? You don't like cheese?"

"That's not cheese." Jen declared from across the table, shaking her head.

At this point I was kinda miffed that people were nitpicking at my eating habits. I don't go to white people and point out how disgusting they are when they pour soy sauce or spread butter on their rice, do I? You white people MADE the fracking cheez whiz. Why the shazbot would you invent something and then sell it only to point out how disgusting it is when people use it?

Anyway, I felt better after pointing at her face saying EWWWWW, that's not a real face!

Ok, I made that up.

At the end of the week, some people from my small group did a small skit based on me in front to everyone. They did everything wrong. Here's what really happened...

First night: I was tired. I wrote my last exam the night before and wasn't in a very social mood. Kyle asked me to drive some people to their billets. I agreed and brought my car around to the building to pick up some people...

Pam comes up to me and says (keeping in mind I was tired), "Are you my ride?"

"I'm driving Allison and [somebody else I forget her name]."

"So where's my ride?"

"I dunno."

"Does anybody know anything around here?"

I shrugged.

"I'm sorry I'm giving you such a hard time, my name's Pam." She extended her hand towards me to shake.

"Okay." and I walked away.

True story. And yes, she ended up being in my small group. After that everytime she spoke to me, all I said was "*shrug* Okay."

They did another skit about me during small group discussion, right after Bruxy had done a lecture on death issues how Jesus would ask us to give up just the one thing we don't want to give up in order to follow him.

So anyway, Pam asks me, "Neil, what's your death issue?"

"Going to these STUPID MEETINGS!"

True story.

If I go again, I hope I have this same attitude. Otherwise it'll be boring. Right now, the incentives for going are:

-See old friends like Pam *shrug* okay...
-Horseback riding
-Get out of the city
-Horseback riding
-Hear God's voice (if he so chooses)
-Horseback riding

Deterents:

-Costs $300.00+ And no, I will not raise funds
-Pam *shrug* okay... HAHA just kidding Pam.

ABC
Often times I feel like venting about my job on this blog, but I'm afraid of getting dooced, so I won't. But I will share something hilarious that happened...

Last night, they reported a leak in one of the buildings, and three rooms got flooded. I had to go over and assess the damage. I'm climbing the stairs, and already I can see the furniture and desks have been moved into the hallway. As I got closer, I notice that the former guests left all this junk food. Caramel popcorn, trail mix, raisins, dried fruit... and MINI-EGGS. And it wasn't in those small packages you get for Easter or Halloween, it was in those massive 2L bags. I thought to myself who would leave mini-eggs behind?!?

So naturally I snuck a taste. Mmm, fat pills (I call them fat pills). I couldn't bear it any longer, I couldn't let this amazing candy go to waste. I opened my jacket pocket and started shovelling them all in. 4 large handfulls worth. I was so cautious too. I was looking around to make sure nobody would catch me (not that it would matter), in case the owner came back for them, because hey, I would have. I heard somebody coming up the stairs and started shovelling them even faster into my pocket.

I thought to myself, "I knew there was a reason I woke up this morning." And how!

As I walked back with a pocket-full of mini-eggs, a smile crept onto my face as I got a flashback of Candace, my best friend during basic. We were in the final two weeks of our course which took place in the field. We were doing night time navigating training. They would drop us off at certain points and we had to find our way back to camp using a map and compass in pitch black. So anyway, Candace, the crafty bugger, instead of having magazines in her mag pouches, she stuffed them with oreos.

"If I'm going to be lost in the middle of nowhere at night, I might as well have oreos instead of empty magazines." That was her argument. It made sense.

I could imagine our instructor's reaction.

"Private Bennett, where are your magazines?"

"I dunno, Master Corporal... Would you like a cookie, Master Corporal?"

Ok, maybe it's not that funny, but it's funny to me, and that's all that counts.

Oh summer, where art thou?

Would it be so selfish, so lame to muse
Over past kinships made, old and present?
A small lesson I'll impart, should you choose
Take up my view, it's up to you, consent

Beautiful woman, or beautiful friend
Given chances at earnest expression
Inklings in my heart I hold, non pretend
Hopes of eternal consolidation

Eyes well, you've gone, tears fall, you departed
Double-edged piercing at heart and soul
Pain I've sustained, have too inflicted
Against Jah, who takes me broken or whole

Sorrow, through experience, my tutor
Broken is this world, yet His love is true
Imperfect bride fazes not the suitor
Father, please teach me to love like you do

ABC

Further to my previous post, the hardest thing I've learned about love is letting go. Generally, I find it easy to part with loved ones provided that there wasn't any tension or problems that came between us. I feel as though it's my duty to part with everybody on good terms. I often worry about people whom I don't hear from for a while, especially if things aren't well between us during the period of silence. I'm learning to let things off my chest more and more. I only wish people would do the same with me. I need people to tell me if they have a problem with me, rather than just hold it in to "spare my feelings". But consider this: How can I make things right if nobody tells me? Don't be passive aggressive, or talk behind my back. CONFRONT ME!

Whoops, sorry. That wasn't directed at anybody... And yet, everybody in general. I wonder a lot about the people whom I've parted with on not so good terms. I wonder what they're doing, who they hang out with now. How amazing their friends may or may not be. Perhaps I think too much. In place of broken relationships, God's grace grants me a second chance by sending more friends. I am so very much thankful for them...

We're doing a Blue Like Jazz bible study at school every Wednesday at 11:30am. It's focusing mainly on culture and faith with the book as kind of an intro and supplement. I've had to read through the book again to remember everything to get better insight at the sessions. So today was my third time reading through it and everytime I read it, I get something new out of it. This will be hard for me to share, but I feel as though I should because I think it matters to the select few who will ever read this.

Lately, as in the past two years lately, I've found it extremely difficult to accept love from people. But I've only realized this until recently. I thought that nothing was wrong with me, like I didn't need as much love as the next guy. You know, share the wealth, I wasn't needy. It's really a shame and after reading through Miller's book again, I realize that nobody should ever consider themselves above God's charity. It all really stems from how I look at myself. Honestly, I don't think too highly of myself and just like Don, I found it hard to see how God really loves me. Well, I knew in my head how he felt about me, but believing from my heart is a different matter altogether. I think this whole thing started since going to my current church, which was about two years ago (coincidence?). For a while, I felt like pretty much an outsider. Like there were two sides: Me, and the white people. It felt like there was an invisible wall for a long time between myself and them. I felt whispers just shy of earshot.

"Don't talk to the brown guy, he's dangerous."

It honestly felt that way, and I would leave every service feeling unfulfilled, like I was wasting gas and time. What I was really lacking was community. Something I hadn't experienced in so long, until last summer with my ultimate frisbee team. We're one of the few teams in the whole league that actually hangs out together outside of games and practices. The thing that struck me the most with this group of people was the fact that they were so accepting. Like, I didn't have to jump through any of their hoops to be one of them. I could tell from the way they asked questions about me that they really liked me and wanted to get to know me. All I needed was a love of the game. It was so refreshing to know that I automatically fit in with some people, like they were my long lost brothers and sisters and I can say or do anything with them, and not feel judged. I'm not saying that I was being judged at church, but it just felt like I had to be or act at a certain standard to be part of my church family.

Our team is notorious for arguing. We've argued so much between each other let alone other teams. But what I love about it is that we're still a team. We get past our differences and still have that bond in the end. And I love the fact that we're all so different from each other, but we value each other's differences. It's very Canadian, like a mosaic, rather than a melting pot, like America. ;p

For those who have read Don Miller's book, my summer family was like the hippies he met in the woods and church was like the summer camp he worked at. And their contrasts echoed very deeply to my soul (chapter 18).

After that summer, I got involved with a small group at church. Though still not on a scale as my crew of fools, I've learned that a lot of the judgement I've felt was all in my head and not being able to accept love, and that they were always willing to dish it out if I could catch it. If you ask me now, I'd say yes, I still have trouble with the big 'L', but I'm working on it.

ABC

Last month, I was at Montana's with some ultimate frisbee teammates, Bunce and Steve. It was right after our first dodgeball game and we got whooped but oh well, I had fun. Our waitress was hot and Steve was being his usual flirtatious self and by the end of the night, as one would expect he asked her an indirect question that would divulge some sort of information as to her relationship status. From experience, I tend to think that it's simply Steve's strong personality that makes some girls, or all waitresses think that he's coming on to them. But I think Steve is just a sweet guy. Most cases, the waitresses are quick to say "Well, my BOYFRIEND says..." always emphasizing the 'B' word. And in some cases I think they just say that so we never ask them for their number. I know better than to ask a waitress for her number unless it's blatantly obvious that she's interested. In other words, never.

Anyway, our conversation then turned to last summer and how amazing it was.

"Last summer was so awesome," I said. "It's easily the second best summer of my life."

"Well," Steve argued. "We'll have to make next summer the best one of your life."

Sweet.

I proposed that we get new jerseys. Something ugly like bright yellow and lime green trim to make the opposition hate us beyond our reputation.

"And how come we don't have music?" I asked. Bunce agreed.

"We should bring a kickin stereo to every game and play the most annoying music."

I began to sing the theme song to Team America: World Police. Bunce and Steve joined in at "FUCK YEAH!" We all shared a chuckle.

Oh how I really do miss the summer. Even right now at this moment as I write this, instead of my mind being focused on studying and assignments, all I can think about is seasoned grilled meat, pale ale, the smell of mosquito repellant, running on the grass, the wind in my hair, and the sun shining on my face. Oh guys, how I miss you so.

"Girls suck, throw discs at them." -Sol Ng, his idea for a T-Shirt in response to "Boys are stupid, throw rocks at them."

I still think our practice jersey should be the logo I submitted:


Just give me a dozen white t-shirts and a red permanent marker. And watch the artist go to work!

The Big 'L', ever been?

From Paul the apostle:

"If I speak with human eloquence and angelic ecstasy but don't love, I'm nothing but the creaking of a rusty gate.
If I speak God's Word with power, revealing all his mysteries and making everything plain as day, and if I have faith that says to a mountain, "Jump," and it jumps, but I don't love, I'm nothing.
If I give everything I own to the poor and even go to the stake to be burned as a martyr, but I don't love, I've gotten nowhere. So, no matter what I say, what I believe, and what I do, I'm bankrupt without love.

Love never gives up.
Love cares more for others than for self.
Love doesn't want what it doesn't have.
Love doesn't strut,
Doesn't have a swelled head,
Doesn't force itself on others,
Isn't always "me first,"
Doesn't fly off the handle,
Doesn't keep score of the sins of others,
Doesn't revel when others grovel,
Takes pleasure in the flowering of truth,
Puts up with anything,
Trusts God always,
Always looks for the best,
Never looks back,
But keeps going to the end."

One thing Paul doesn't mention is that love isn't always fair, and it can be very very painful. That it can be very lopsided.

Looking back at some of the people I love or tried to love, I came to a conclusion: I suck at loving people.

Paul never said that often times, people won't return the same amount of love to you... Yet, it happens. He never said that some will never understand how much you love them because you can't express it in a form that they will accept. He never said that some people will build walls around themselves to shield against incoming love. He never said that some people will dismiss you because you look or act a certain way. He never said that we tend to hurt the ones we love the most. He never said that the most unlovable people in this world are the ones that need the most love... And yet, it's true.

I find it strange that Paul didn't write that much about hate when he himself was the biggest hater for the first part of his life. Why didn't he mention how destructive hate can be? How preferences can lead to intolerance and ultimately hate? How simple disagreements can spawn a world war? I only go this far because the things I hate most about this world are the things I see in myself. "I can't change this world, I can only change myself." This was my mantra for a long time, but I've come to realize that I suck at changing myself too.

I actually wrote this post a long time ago, I just thought I would post it on a day where love is skewed and warped into chocolate and flowers. I think that if Paul were here today when he wrote that chapter, the beginning would go something like this:

"If I send flowers and candy only once a year on a designated day that everybody else did the same thing, then I do not love.
If I reserve a table for two and have a candle-lit dinner and be chivalrous to a tee, but only once a year, then I do not love.
If I make vows on a wedding day and do not keep them and decide to divorce when my marriage isn't going well, or I've lost 'that feeling', then I do not know what love is..."

Paul never said that I can't force anybody to love me back. But I can accept love from the most unexpected of places.

If you're going leave a comment to say how great I am at loving others and that I'm so cool blah blah blah... save it. Just bake me some cookies and I'll understand. OR, here are a number of other ways that you can show that you love me:

-Grill me a steak
-Treat me to wings
-Go to the movies with me
-Play frisbee with me
-Help me roll some sushi
-Wash my car
-Clean up my room
-Buy me a Golden Retriever
-Let me beat you in every video game
-Sing on my karaoke machine while I laugh at you
-Let me hold the remote
-Make me a sandwich
-Let me serve you pancakes (Game: blouses)
-Play spoons with me (and let me move the spoons on you)
-Spoon me (females only, as is, or whilst doing any of the above)
And lastly:

-Write me a letter that says how awesome I am...
and has your bank account # and PIN on it

DU it! DU it!

Why Aren't Girls Funny?

Seriously. I mean, seriously. Aside from her smile, looks, intelligence, hygiene habits, etc. The biggest factor I find that separates a girl head and shoulders above the rest is her sense of humour. The sad thing is I haven't met that many girls who can make me ROFLMAO (<---ew), which would explain why I'm still single... Other than me being brown, having no game whatsoever, and being a shitty boyfriend; but that's beside the point.

But seriously, where are they? Why can't all girls be like Ellen Degeneres? ... minus the lesbian thing, of course. Maybe that's it! Only lesbians are funny? Why can't I be a lesbian?

I've only met 2 girls (that aren't lesbians) whom I can say have made my sides hurt from laughter - or otherwise. Candace, my best friend during basic is one of them. I find her so amazing. I'll never forget the time we were shopping together one weekend. She pointed to the feminine products line.

"Neil, there's the vagisil you were looking for."

I was totally burned. No comeback whatsoever. All I could say was, "You effer."

True story.

There was another time one of our fellow know-it-all course mates was razzing her during weapons class and she quickly blurted out, "What's that? Encyclopedia-boy has no social skills? Thought so."

The whole room erupted. True story.

What I'm really pissed with is the fact that the majority of girls claim they want a guy who's serious about their relationship and want "chivalry" and "courtship". And the moment we step it up, they recoil in horror claiming we're coming on too strong. Quit being so flippant. That is bar none my biggest turn off with girls and it seems like every girl has it regardless of whether they're just friends or you're looking to get serious with them. Where's the follow-through? Why is it always up to the guy to initiate everything? Is this not the golden age of feminism? Why don't you call ME for once?

"I don't want to look desperate by calling."

Yeah? Well I don't want you to look so flippant. Get over yourself. If you wanna hang out, just call. Did you know that 99.9% of guys are totally chill when you call? We don't assume anything. We're stupid. You have to hit us over the head with a club and drag us home for us to see through it. Have you ever considered that some guys just want to be friends too?

That's one of the problems with Christianity I think. Christians get married a lot earlier than secular couples because they want to have sex. They're not willing to make preparations for the rest of their life, they're just horny. More often than not, they realize they've married the wrong person and it ends ugly.

Am I idealistic? Yes, but not as much as girls are. Case in point:

Everybody knows at least a couple girls who think we should revert back to the napoleonic war era and that everybody should act like Mr. Darcy in Pride and Prejudice. No need to bother considering realistically that women were treated as trophies back then and once they were won, they were put on the shelf to collect dust and be ignored. No need to bother considering that Pride and Prejudice was written by a woman, because hey, you're a woman too. All men should grovel at your feet like some sort of lopsided feminism. But let's be honest, feminism always had a double standard. Don't believe me? You will.

News flash: Mr. Darcy is a fictional character and doesn't exist. Neither does your romantic world. The closest you'll ever get to is Don Quixote. You've all embraced the idea that women are empowered just as much as men are, so why not pull your own weight when it comes to dating? Why don't YOU ask me out? Why don't YOU call first? Why don't YOU pay for my dinner? Why don't YOU send me flowers/letters? And most of all, why don't YOU make me laugh? FRICK! FRACK! MIERDA! SCHEIZE! ESTICALISSTABERNAC!

"You need to meet girls, Neil." -Janet Lee

I don't want to meet girls. I want to meet ladies. Hilarious ladies. </rant>

This past week, Steve, my weightlifting buddy and ultimate frisbee teammate/coach gave me the assignment of smiling and saying hi to a pretty girl I see at school, on the bus, or wherever. I must admit that it totally slips my mind in the morning when I'm on the bus, at school, in class writing down notes and thinking about my assignments. Steve's assignment didn't queue in. The things that I do remember to do are the things that happen subconciously, out of habit. One particular habit: Opening/holding doors for people. Last week, I held the door for a girl holding a steaming cup coffee whose aroma you could see dance in the crisp winter air. I didn't hold the door because she was holding a coffee, but because I had already held it for the previous girl before her. Her blue eyes lit up. Her lips parted to reveal a mouth full of braces. It was the most grateful and most beautiful smile I have seen in a while. It made my day/week/month.

Disclaimer: If any of the above made you angry, good.

My (Our?) Greatest Need

It's funny how my most profound thoughts come forth from the most unlikely or inappropriate of places. Sitting on the throne, in the shower, in a room full of people, slacking off at work... If it wasn't for this amazing save draft feature on blogger, I'd have a post up every day hour. So I've come to another shift in thinking in terms of perpective. I could go through a myriad of details and turning points or subtle hints that have been nagging at me, but to put it simply: I need to get out of here.

I think I've forgotten why I'm walking on this earth. I need to go see the world. But where? How? Well, next year, I think I'll take my own advice for once and take the year off school. I've sent a request to the higher ups at my job to see if there are any positions available overseas. If things go well, I could be gone for a while. Would you be sad if I left? Don't be. I won't.

I want to be relevant. I want to make a difference. Even if it's only to one person at a time. As long as I know that I'm not just a number. Not some inconsequential strand in history. I want a steak dinner. More to follow as it progresses.

In the past I've said that one of the reasons I left xanga was because of its demographic immaturity and its "tag you're it" crap. Completely unoriginal and passé in terms of blogging. BUT, since I'm such a nice guy, Rachel, this is for you:

4 3 Jobs I've had (I've only had 3!):
Order processing/Paging operator
LBE Summer Staff
Canadian Forces Reserves

Not an exciting resumé but my job description in the military has changed so many times, that it feels like multiple jobs... which is probably why I'm still in. My most memorable position was working for Wing Ops Training teaching classes with weapons, first aid, and NBCD (gas masks). We'd be on the range 2-3 times a week riding ATV's or playing enemy force for trainees and having a BBQ every Friday followed by having the rest of the afternoon off. It honestly felt like a grown-up summer camp with rifles and thunder flashes.

4 movies I can watch over and over (there's more than 4 but here's the top 4. For an exhaustive list, see my profile):
Amélie
Forrest Gump
Charlie and the Chocolate Factory (new and old)
When Harry Met Sally

4 places I have lived in:
'Peg, embee
Calgary, AB
Borden, ON
Sydney, NSW, AUS

4 places I've vacationed:
Philippines
Disney World
Jonquière, QC
Last Thursday, visiting my 10 week old niece. She tries to talk to me but I don't understand her. I pretend like I do though and answer with a smile and "Yes, I agree, your grandma is scary." (I dropped my Tue/Thu class, so now it's always a vacation. weeeee!)



4 of my favourite dishes (this one is top 4 as well):
sushi
gyros
goat roti
tiramisu

4 places I'd rather be right now:
Anywhere/everywhere in Europe
On a train going from Halifax to Vancouver (with day-or-two stops in between, and perhaps back again)
New Zealand skiing and scuba diving in the same day
Hiking in Banff or Alaska (or Banff TO Alaska)

4 sites I visit daily:
google
gmail (want an account? Just ask.)
Waiter Rant
30 foot layout (almost everyday)

4 books I could rebuy?:
Blue Like Jazz (and have)
Life of Pi
The Message
Where The Wild Things Are

Sorry Rach, I'm not tagging anybody, that's my compromise. But thanks for making me feel special! ^^*

Dodgeball Season Has Commenced

That's all I have to say right now... That, and GO EL DIABLO!!!

I'm seriously disappointed with the direction Fox Pictures has gone with its Alien and Predator (and Alien vs Predator) series.

Ripley being born through a test tube and genetically altered into a hybrid human/xenomorph? Seriously.

Danny Glover having an easier time killing a predator than Arnold Schwarzenegger? Seriously.

GET TO THE CHOPPA!

Alien vs Predator? I mean, come on. The xenomorph may have razor sharp teeth and claws, and is highly agile. But the predator is a highly intelligent, technologically advanced being with superb killer instinct. And 2 of them die in the first fight scene - by the SAME ALIEN! Seriously, Fox. Seriously.

On that note, watch the movies (except alien vs predator (pure rubbish)). Seriously, the age-old forbidden love romance movies are getting old. They're so cliché, so american. I say we go back to the good ol' days of cheesy monster action flicks. I love cheering for the monsters! ;p

ABC

In other news, I finally finished Anne Lamott's Bestseller, Travelling Mercies. I've been seriously wanting to read it for a while after hearing that it was the book that inspired Don Miller to write his book Blue Like Jazz (my favourite). In the end, I'd have to say that Blue Like Jazz is still my favourite, but Anne Lamott is a far better writer. I only prefer Don Miller's book because he's a guy and I can relate a whole lot more to his experience than Anne's. That being said, I highly recommend this book to any girl who struggles with her faith, appearance, weight, the opposite sex, etc. Ms. Lamott bares it all, and by the end of the book, she leaves you with a sense of peace. As if she's letting you know that if she can find grace, so can you. Drop me a line if you wanna borrow.

"... I've found that self-righteousness is very comforting. But Jesus is quite clear on this point. He does not mince words. He says you even have to love the whiners, the bullies, and the people who think they're better than you. And you have to stick up for the innocent." (250-51)

She writes a lot about her son and it's obvious how precious he is to her. Somewhere near the end she tells a story about the two of them snorkeling together. Way before this point, I've noticed that she has a lot of hang-ups with keeping her son safe and she muses and sighs over every decision, be it minute or grand, concerning her little Sam. My mind started to wander from the words even though my eyes were still on auto-pilot (as I always do, and then I have to read the page over again). And I began to imagine what it would be like to have a child of my own. A little mini-Neil running around. (S)He would mean the world to me. And then I thought about how much I must mean to my parents. I thought of my dad and how proud he must have been when I was a little kid. He would take me fishing every weekend and we'd keep the bass, perch, and pickeral; and throw away the catfish. How precious I must have been to him. And then I lost it. I couldn't breathe. In that epiphanic moment, I realize how much of a sorry-ass of a son I've been. They beckon me every night to spend a little time with them, but I shrug them and their stupid scrabble game off (seriously, I hate scrabble). All they really want is to spend time with me (why don't they ever play video games with me then?!). Today, I understand how fortunate I am to still have both my parents who still love each other very much and love me. And all I've done lately is take them for granted.

Anyway, yeah, I seriously recommend the book to all y'all girls in the house what! what! what! lawl.

Random facts:

uno. Number of times I've said 'seriously' in this post: 10 (if you count this line)

dos. Hardest paragraph for me to write was the last one. The screen kept getting blurry from my eyes welling up. ;p

tres. I want to meet a lady who's pretty on the outside and beautiful on the inside. Somebody like this. E-crush? Definitely. *le sigh*

Edit: I found this quote somewhere from some american whose identity I won't devulge to protect him from ridicule. All you need to know is that he's from Nevada...

“i was never a person to classify others into categories or titles but i guess you could call him my best friend. through the thick of it all we are able to withstand the 34 degrees for more than a few hours at a time, in the deepest greys of the night, fighting off the shivering and constant trembles in our voices that result from being out in the cold too long.”

Ok, 34 degrees. That's about 1 degree celsius. If you're from Winnipeg, you're thinking the exact same thing I'm thinking. THAT'S T-SHIRT AND SHORTS WEATHER! PUA HAHAHAHA!

Who did you vote for?

Election day today. Wanna know who I voted for? Well, here...



Ok, I didn't vote, I just made this up a long time ago during the previous election... Back when I thought I was funny.

I had to work today, so I didn't get a chance to go out and vote. But in all honesty, I really don't care about politics and I have serious doubts about our whole democratic system in general. Well, not in our system per se, but in the people that run our government. The way I look at it, there wasn't any good party to vote for. Each had their own leader who's a dumb old guy who's so out of touch with the country, and each had their own promises that they won't keep... And what's with all the smearing?! I can't believe people would vote for somebody who slandered the opposition. It's like voting for somebody who only focused on the problems and pointed fingers rather than figuring out solutions.

I feel that it won't matter who I vote for. Big deal, the conservatives won this time. We'll let them screw us around for 10 years or so until we change to liberal and they screw us around and so goes the cycle. I've never felt any loyalty to any particular party because none of them ever get around to what they say they'll do. So who really cares?

I am not without hope in our government, however. The first party to abolish taxes will win my support. Hopefully they're not the antichrist.

Now, if you'll excuse me,
I have unicorns to chase.

PACQUIAO IS TEH WINZ!!!

OMG x ∞
If you're brown, then you know exactly how I feel. For the rest of you whities, Pacquiao is only the most amazing Filipino boxer in the world! And he beat Morales in a rematch! So dramatic! I watched it with all my brown relatives and the house was just crazy when he knocked out Morales, not once, but TWICE!

It's like Philippines winning the super bowl! You have no idea how big this guy is. He's more celebrated in his home country than Bruce Lee/Jackie Chan ever were in China! It's like Philippines delivering a Flying Dragon Kick™ in the crotch to Mexico!

Take that! Elian can NOT stay!







Doesn't he look like Bahandi?

Close Encounters of the... Divine Kind

Last week, my friend Annie (the same Annie who sent me the dummy string) called me up and told me of a life-changing revelation she had. She had encountered God in a turning-point kind of way while on this conference of some sort. She was sketchy with the details of the whole thing and its secrecy led me to believe that it was some sort of fight club that nobody is supposed to talk about. In any case, she shared with me her revelation of the Almighty in a way that I wasn't prepared for, to say the least. I was at a loss for words after she had finished talking to the point where she might have thought I wasn't listening or didn't understand.

"I want to be a praying woman, because I never pray."

Those words were enough to tell me that somebody had doused gasoline on the small flame that was inside of her. A flame that had been burning at the end of its rope. I sensed a deep change within her from the tone of her voice almost as if I was talking to somebody I've never met before. Amidst her on-and-off weeping and murmering, she relayed the rest of her experience to me.

As I hung up, I was completely dumbfounded. It was a lot for me to digest. I began to reflect on my relationship with God. Where had I gone wrong? Have I gone wrong? Why doesn't God ever speak to me in such a way that would stir up passion within me? Where had my passion gone?

The truth is that I've been through those "Oh my God" moments before many times myself. It's hard to explain the feeling of utter exuberance from becoming a new person and seeing everything you've seen before in a different light. And yet those memories will be forever etched in my mind.

My thoughts then jumped to what Curtis (a Nav's staffer) told me during the Somewhere Else Retreat almost a year ago now. It had been right after one of those "Oh my God" moments where there was much crying and praying and empowerment. I had not gotten any dramatic revelation from the G-man that night and was kind of disappointed in the whole retreat considering it was our last night at the camp and the next day we were packing it all up to go home. Later that night, the session had long been over and most of us were in our bedtime attire already. It was a very non-chalant and yet intimate kind of setting as we sat in a circle of couches with a number of other guys.

"I don't experience those moments anymore... It's not that God doesn't speak to me in that way, it's just that I don't chase after it or fully give myself to that moment." Curtis declared.

After a very enlightening discussion, it felt as if God was tapping me on the shoulder, as if to tell me, "Neil, you're ok."

And after that night, I understood. Although I appreciate the moments of spiritual bliss, I realize that the darkest and most painful times of my life are where I've grown the most spiritually, as a person, and in character. God will reveal himself to us in the way he sees fit. It's true, some may never experience him in a dramatic way like Annie has, and yet just a hint of him is enough to spark a lifelong change in some people. Still others might need a kick in the butt to realize that he's there. I'll be the first to admit that I need a kick in the groin to be convinced of his presence.

Everybody's relationship with God is different. God has placed us all on different paths and some of our paths will intersect. Some will divide. Some may never cross. But in the end, I think the big guy has everything under control. Intuitively, I feel that all our paths will ultimately lead to some sort of revelation of his nature.

In no way am I saying that Annie's experience is totally bunk. I'm very glad for her because I had been praying for her for a long time that God would give her some sort of passion. And he's answered. But I think something can be learned from Curtis' example. Incidently, I thought Curtis was the most hilarious guy at the retreat... next to my fist.

"I'm not saying that I have this all together, that I have it made. But I am well on my way, reaching out for Christ, who has so wondrously reached out for me. Friends, don't get me wrong: By no means do I count myself an expert in all of this, but I've got my eye on the goal, where God is beckoning us onward - to Jesus."
-Phil. 3:12-13

I want to hear from you. Where, if at all, have you experienced an "Oh my God" moment? Was there a catalyst in your relationship with Jesus? What has he taught you lately about your relationship with him? Whether you have or haven't, do you feel these moments are necessary (example)? Write as much as you like, but bear in mind that I prefer quality over quantity.

Anne Lamott said that the two best prayers she knows are "Help me, help me, help me." and "Thank you, thank you, thank you."

God, thank you for Annie. Help me to keep her fire burning.

Shameless Confession(s)

Edit:

"I still care... just that I don't have to be a part of his [or her] life to do that."

So true. Thanks for the reminder and encouragement, friend.

There's always heaven... =D

Those who have been with me since my xanga days may have noticed a steady decline in the frequency of my posts. I used to post a minimum of twice a week if not more, and they used to be funny. Lately, they've been more sombre and introspective. I'm sorry. And I realize that I've picked up a few more regular readers as well and I can only imagine the pain and sorrow they experience everytime they visit and find a blog that is barren of updates. And there's this one person in Dryden who keeps visiting... WHO ARE YOU?!? REVEAL YOURSELF!!!!!111one. Anyway, to thank all you who visit and read regularily, I promise to post at least once a week.* But, please... COMMENT! Thanks.

Random nothingness...

Last night I hung out with Jen and Jen. It was a summer staff reunion minus one staff member haha! We had a grand old time talking and catching up on things. The funniest part was that I called Jen earlier that day... and the conversation went like this:

"Hello?" she answered.
"Hi."
"Hi."
"Hi."
"How are you?"
"Hi."
"I was going to call you because Jen called earlier."
"Oh yeah? What did she say?"
"She said the tickets were already sold out."
"Yeah, that's why I was calling."
"Yeah she said we should meet up for supper anyway."
"Hmmm ok. Where are we meeting?"
"Dalat."
"What?"
"Dalat."
"What is that?"
"It's a chinese restaurant, it's on Ellice, I've been there before, it's pretty good."
"Yeah, but you're white, so it's probably not that good."
I called her from the Nav's office and the people listening in laughed. And then she laughed.
"So... are you going to pick me up?"

So we went to Dalat and it was a chinese/viet restaurant so I wasn't so disappointed. After that we went to Baked Expectations. It's the most amazing dessert place ever... next to my kitchen. ;p

The best part was at the end of the night, because I got to say:
"Good bye Jennifer. Good bye Jennifer."

Hmmm what else...

Oh, my friend Annie sent me these mittens with strings attached to them because I told her once that I keep losing my gloves and I need strings for them to put through my sleeves... And as soon as I got them, I immediately put them through my sleeves and practiced my nunchuk skills. i r s0 teh 1337.

My darkest secret. I love to randomly visit other people's sites and steal their images. Let me share some!




Yes, they're all girls. Got a problem? Don't mess.

*This promise is void.

Flashback #527

Have you ever had a Rolo pop? They're these popsicles with a solid chocolate shell filled with chocolate ice cream and caramel in the centre. I love them. They remind me of Québec. The first time I ever had a Rolo pop was with Karen, in Jonquière, QC, during a summer french language course.

I had graduated from high school with a french immersion diploma, and it was customary of our french teacher to send us on french orientated trips, kinda like a grad present. Karen was from Winnipeg too. For 2 of the 5 weeks of our stay in Québec, there was this rock festival going on. Every night we'd walk down the bar strip in town and at the end of the street was the stage where all the bands played. I felt so alive back then just taking in the sights of lanterns lined along the street, the sounds of chattering patrons on bar patios and great french music, and the smell of cigarette smoke and the river that was nearby. A biker gang was in full force in that town as they would ride up and down the street almost as a sign of arrogance towards the cops that were on patrol. The underage drinking was absurd. So many kids were sent home after their trip to the hospital. Each night, after the last band finished their session, Karen and I would go to this 50's style diner and have milkshakes together. Sometimes we would race to see who would finish theirs first, but normally we would talk about the meaning of life and what it's like to be in love.

"There's different kinds of love, Neil."

I disagreed at that time, but deep down I knew she was right.

Karen was catholic. She attended mass regularily, but it seemed more out of habit. She went to this big cathedral during her stay in Jonqière. It was one of those massive ancient stained-glass ones that you would see on postcards. I even accompanied her one Sunday. A beautiful building.

During my stay in Jonquière, I managed to start a bible study. There were a couple students from Nova Scotia who were christians and Rachel, my classmate, joined us as well. At our first meeting, we had Scott and Chelsea, Rachel, myself and April Griffin. April was the cutest girl you've ever met, I sat with her at least once a day in the cafeteria, and she'd always make a mess while eating. By the end she'd have this smear of chocolate on her cheek or ketchup all over her hands. She was always enthusiastic about everything. We got along well.

The next week, a few more people showed up at our little bible study, Karen was one of them. She seemed very interested about spiritual things. I suppose eternity is a seductive idea to most people who never really think about these things. Needless to say, she was hooked, and showed up every week thereafter.

The last week in Québec, I found out I was accepted into a leadership program in Calgary. I was so excited. The last night in Jonquière, we had this crazy farewell night that started off with watching a film the TA's made. It was little snippets of popular films all dubbed over with their voices. It was full of inside jokes about our course and I've never laughed so hard. After that, we got our little certificates and a small tribute to our teachers. There was a dinner and dance thing too. Crazy.

Karen had eventually found out I was going to Calgary in the fall instead of staying in Winnipeg where she was. At the end of the farewell night, she approached me with watery eyes...

"Neil, is it true you're going to Calgary?" She asked, as her lip quivered.

I smiled and grabbed her and held her as she sobbed on my shoulder. It was then that I knew that I had made a friend. A few weeks later while I was still in Winnipeg getting ready to move all my stuff, I got an email from Karen...

"Neil, thanks to you, I read my bible more often. I feel so much closer to God."

I felt so humbled that God had used me to touch somebody's life. I'll never forget that time at the dépanneur when Karen first introduced me to Rolo pops.

I love Rolo pops.

The MC* to the IP** in OE***, Fool.****

You know that Christmas feeling you get? When everything around you just fits? That feeling of being around people with the same spirit? That feeling of knowing you're free to be yourself?

Last week, I got my first Christmas feeling as I sat and sang in a house full of white people. Normally, I get my first Christmas feeling the day of as my family eats together and watches Christmas specials. But this year, I got that feeling just a little bit earlier as my church small group got together for a potluck. I am constantly amazed at God's providence in my life. Regardless of whether or not I know what's around the corner, He's in complete control. I'm like that petulant child in the backseat of the car complaining to the parent who's driving. Like it or not, I have to trust. Daddy knows best. Although I feel like I'm never content with my life, I can't complain because He has been good to me. And so there we were, sitting around the living room all stuffed with chicken wings and desserts galore. Jason pulled out the guitar and Nick brought his accordion along. It was quite hilarious as he tried to harmonize with Jason's out-of-tune guitar. We laughed and sang a variety of songs - some not even related to Christmas. As we tried to recall the lyrics to Boney M songs, I felt very much at home and perhaps... a small hint of His presence was made known to me. The smiling faces and laughter was far too much for me to regard these people as strangers. We have become family. And that's the best Christmas feeling you can have. I'm looking forward to spending the time off with my family and friends, namely, the 30 foot fools.

TTT

Through balmy wint'ry air doth we partake
With warmth of kin or chill of lonesome strife,
'Tis surely such a time we shan't forsake
To give our thanks to Thee who gave us life.

To all my friends I've made both old and new:
Forgive me for my slothfullness, I plead;
'Twas but my hermit nature I let through.
And yet I pine'd for life renew'd and freed.

Please know my heart and thoughts go with you all.
I pray to Thee, He'll bring you hope and joy.
For I, mere Neil, hath tasted, been enthral'd
By grace and mercy under Thine employ.

I sing redemption song for all to hear
That gratefulness is natural, the norm.
For liberation has thy price, 'tis clear;
My life is not my own, thus I perform.

For ev'ry morsel eaten and consume'd,
Remember those with nary a cent or thing.
'Cause we are bless'd to sleep inside a room,
Than face winter's harsh bite; avoid thy sting.

I seek perfection in my life, to soar.
A lofty goal, to reach the highest height.
And though I've fail'd, my peers have not kept score.
Accept my thanks, your hand in mine, don might.

TTT

Although it's been said
many times, many ways...

* M.C. = Merry Christmas
** I.P. = Iambic Pentameter
*** O.E. = Old English
**** Fool = You

Flashback #318

In many ways, he was my best friend at that time. I never actually admitted this to him, but he was the one I got along with most in elementary. Stefan, the magician. He was your veritable nerd complete with spectacles and ski-pants that everybody oh-so-loved to make fun of because he was different from everybody else. And at times, to my eternal shame, I joined in on the name-calling. During recess, we had formed an imaginary news crew called the "Dream Team" wherein we would approach other kids and ask them what they had dreamed last night. Normally it was about ponies, or ice cream. Every once in a while we'd get "I was president of Canada", or "I threw up pickles on my sister." I loved the irregular ones. It was the norm for "cool kids" in other classes to pick on Stef during recess. This one particular recess in grade 3, I was feeling awfully brave, and felt like picking a fight with one of Stefan's bullies as they were picking on him. I lost. My first and only schoolyard fight in my whole academic career, and I lost to a guy who was a foot taller than me. I lasted pretty long though, but a knee to the gut did me in. It was horrible and most memorable because the winner started to cry as the T.A.'s unleashed their fury on him. Even though I had proven my friendship with Stefan at that point, I still feel remorse to this day about all the times I had made fun of him along with the others, or the times I was embarrassed to be his friend. School is a jungle, what can I say?

In grade 3, he had won the most prestigious award of best magician of his age group in Canada (I didn't even know that there were championships). It was great, because nobody believed him except for me. Later that week, CBC wanted to do a news special on him and even record him doing a magic show in front of the whole class. Finally, some payoff to being his friend (selfish, I know).

In grade 4, his parents had divorced, and so at the beginning of summer, he had to move. It was a pretty sad time for me, but only as sad as a kid in grade 4 would lose a toy or forget where he buried his secret stash. After all, whom was I going to listen to Weird Al albums and go biking with now? I remember the day before he moved away, it was late afternoon. We biked together as the sun was setting. He promised to call me for special events like birthday parties and sleepovers. He didn't.

Filipinos have a strange culture. It's based very much on image. You can see it in today's youth as they drive their noisy ricemobiles whilst talking on their cellphone and seat reclined to the laying down position. The older generation care very much about their image as well, however, they show it in a different, and yet, very understandable fashion - through their children. The tradition of the debut started during the early spanish occupation of the Philippines and has been carried out among Filipino families ever since. So much in fact, that there was a movie made about it a few years ago. I loved it. I thought it was so funny, seeing as how the main character was a coconut, like me. ANYWAY, a debut is simply a celebration of a coming-of-age of a daughter in a Filipino family. I'm not sure if there are other cultures that celebrate this, but if there is, please let me know. =)

I'm sure you've been wondering ever since ricemobiles why I'm mentioning all this, and I will tell you. A bit more than a year ago, I met Stefan for the first time since he moved away at a debut. My neighbour's daughter had turned 18 that year. They also had a son, who had passed away at the age of six due to cancer. Stefan and I were friends with him during his short life, and yet neither of us knew about it until just before he had to move away. Apparently he had kept in touch with them and not me (FOR SHAME! Just kidding, I'm cool with it). So, as it turned out we were seated at the same table, his family and mine. His mom with her new husband, and his dad with his new wife, his twin sisters, who reminded me of the olsen twins, and his girlfriend, a pretty thing. My family came out strong with myself, Mom, and Dad. He looked a little different, hairier. And yet, he still held the same demeanor and mannerisms that were so familiar to me.

As we caught up, I learned that he had become a vegan, an athiest, and anarchist. He keeps a blog of his own. Now, I have no objections to his choice of worldview or lifestyle, I'm only saddened by how much we have grown apart. And though we both left that party on good terms, it seemed that we no longer had anything in common except for our childhood memories. I visit his blog every once in a while, and it's mostly about what he thinks of Bush, politics and ideals. Politics bore me, really, but I keep reading to see what I've been missing all these years. To see what his perspective on life is. I don't consider us friends anymore, but politics and opinions aside, I think that we could have still been friends had we kept in touch. In many respects, we are the same, him and I; we're both idealists. And even though this world isn't perfect, I believe that people can still get along regardless of race, religion, or beliefs. And I think this is as close to perfection as you can get. I certainly won't forget him.

I guess amidst all this rambling, what I'm trying to say is that experience has taught me that most people are in my life for a finite amount of time. It's kind of sad, but it's an ugly fact of life. On the flip side, my heart tells me that it doesn't have to be this way. That maybe, if both parties really wanted to make something happen, it would. I think I think too much.

Sidenote: A couple years after my first and only schoolyard fight, I beat the crap out of Michael Pinette, the biggest kid in our class because he started making fun of my last name. Ever since then, and throughout high school, he treated me like his best friend. Heh, Michael Peanut.

It's a Swirl!

Today, Year of our Lord, November 12, 2005, at 0316 hrs, my sister, Grace Midwinter, gave birth to a 7 lbs 3 oz girl. Her name is Cloe Ava Midwinter, and I'm her uncle. IN YO FACE, FOOL!

"Grace said it's your turn now, Neil." my mom told me.

"My turn?"

"To multiply."

Yeah, I'll get right on that. I think I need to take a few more steps before I can make babies, don't I?

Sometimes, I feel like this guy...

So I went to the big AIA thing tonight. Kinda got suckered into it. I really didn't want to go, but I felt that God was calling me to go, that He might have something to teach me. And boy, He sure did...

I'm really thankful that there are a handful of brave souls that are willing to stick their necks out and sell programs with some guy's testimony written in it and sell DVD's with his biography in it... but what about our testimonies? Our stories? I never told anybody this, but I didn't stop attending CCC because I was too busy, or even because of my other lame excuse that I'm too lazy to make new friends. In fact, I love to meet new people. To be completely honest, I stopped going because the way CCC does ministry is totally not my style. I can't just get into somebody's face and start telling them about Jesus and how He wants to change them. It's so obnoxious, so intrusive, so... impersonal. Jesus never did ministry like that. He always took the time to listen to people, to eat with them - which in those days were a big deal. Imagine having dinner with royalty, that's how it was. People were so ashamed that Jesus, the coolest guy on earth, wanted to sit at the same table with them. But I digress.

I think that if Jesus came here today, we'd have the same scene of him clearing the temple all pissed off. We've been doing it all wrong. No amount of organizing or programming can compare to the love of God. It's not up to us to save souls, Only God's mercy alone can do that. All that God commands us to do is to love one another, and that doesn't take a whole lot of effort when you realize that you're not responsible for the salvation of others. Indeed, tonight has only reaffirmed what I've been feeling deep down inside my heart, thinking in the back of my head, and helped me to form my own type of ministry. One that's based on relationships. A friendship goes deeper than any retarded tract, novel, movie, or magazine. I've seen it on all the faces that I have met.

It is my prayer that I will be a blessing to those around me and to everyone I meet. This will only serve as the catalyst to something greater, something new.

"To penguins." -Tony, the beat poet, as he raised his glass.

Starring: Me

I know I haven't posted in a while. It's not that I've been too busy, I just had nothing to say. It seems as though there's been a rash of unoriginality in the blogosphere lately. All this "tag you're it, fill out this survey" crap. I haven't been tagged. Am I bitter? No, that's what I get for leaving Xanga... Thank God. So instead of continuing the unoriginality, I'm going to steal somebody else's idea (huh?).

I always imagined my life as a movie. Writer, producer, director, main character. Have you ever wondered what the soundtrack to your life would be? Here's mine:

Opening Credits: Seishun Kyousoukyoku - Sambomaster
Waking, getting ready for the day Scene: Chocolate - Snow Patrol
Walking to School Scene: Cold Hard B**** - Jet
Walking Home Scene: Come Away With Me - Norah Jones
Summer moments scene: Take Me Out - Franz Ferdinand
Party/BBQ/Hanging out with friends scene: Life is Life - Opus
Driving Scene: Somebody Told Me - The Killers
Moments of Joy with Significant Other (like in There's Something About Mary) Scene: Just What I Needed - The Cars
Break Up Scene: The Scientist - Coldplay
Depressed Scene: Life - Our Lady Peace
Month Later after Break Up Scene: The Ex - Billy Talent
Training/Running until my lungs explode Scene: Last Train Home - Lost Prophets
Motivational/Rugby/Ultimate Frisbee scene: Artist in the Ambulance - Thrice; Song 2 - Blur
End of Summer after winning the Ultimate Frisbee Championship Scene: Your Hand In Mine (with strings) - Explosions in the Sky
Fight Scene: Dive For You - Boom Boom Satellites
Death/Funeral Scene: Grief and Sorrow - Naruto OST
Goodbye Scene: Fix You - Coldplay
Don't Dream it's Over - Sixpence None the Richer
Closing Credits: A Little Help from my Friends - Joe Cocker; The Impression That I Get - Mighty Mighty Bosstones

I've had too much time to think about this. Now I tag...

Nobody.

Feel free to tag me with your survey stuff, and I'll feel free to not comply.

;p

Would you like a copy of my soundtrack? I can send you one. I can and will. Just gimme a shout, email, call, comment, tag on the tagboard, instant message, singing telegram, can & string transmission, or kick to the face, and I'll make the necessary arrangements. This isn't limited to Winnipeg folk. If you live out of the city, I'd be more than happy to mail it to you. No need to pay postage.

NO DISTANCE IS TOO GREAT.

I've done it before and I'll do it again. I know you all want one.
*cough* Janet who visits like twice a day, but never comments or tags or anything. *cough*

But seriously, if they really did make a movie about my life. I would hope that they would show the way God's love has changed me. Because everything good in my life is because of Him. I can't take credit for any of it. In the whole grand scheme of things, this movie was never about me, it's about His love for me and how much it has affected those around me. Everything likeable about me is from Him. Thanks God. *high fives God*

Next week (or sooner... most likely later): List of movies I want to see.

Bored At Work: Take 2

So... I bet you're all wondering what a coconut does when he's bored at work. Well I'll tell you: He writes Haikus!

Haiku 1

Her smile still haunts me
A yearning to turn back time
To relive that day.

Wish I could forget
Memories can't be erased
Burns will heal, one day.

I want to ask why
But I won't get an answer
Yelling at the wind.

I can do better
The sea's filled with many fish
She's one of many.

My future looks bright
I said I wouldn't settle
But for her, I would.

Haiku 2

Reunion attempt
Have broken years of silence
Had nothing to lose.

She makes no effort
My resolve remains the same
To love her, always.

Any ideas for titles?
Bonus question: What is the underlying theme of this post? Marks will be given based on originality and content.

A Tale of Redemption

When I was younger, I used to be enthralled by this Playstation game entitled Valkyrie Profile. Its premise is based loosely on Norse mythology. The story goes that there's a war going on in Valhalla, a spiritual realm above earth. Odin, the head honcho of the good side realizes that his forces aren't strong enough, so he calls for the aid of Valkyrie, a winged warrior. He tells Valkyrie to recruit more soldiers from the mortal realm to strengthen Odin's forces. So, Valkyrie is charged with the daunting task of choosing worthy souls to be trained and, once ready, to fight for Odin. There is quite a degree of spirituality in this game, which is why I'm bringing this up. What made this game so engaging and kept me playing for hours on end was the way Valkyrie chose her army. The only way she could claim a soul was once the person died - not by her doing of course, but by usually tragic means. She always chose the outcast, who died alone, or a lone warrior who was betrayed by his friends, or an orphan who lost her way. In each case, it seemed like the souls that she deemed worthy, were the ones that needed a second chance. And that's exactly what she gave them. I could relate very well to the tales of tragedy, misfortune, and ultimately grace.

Now, even more so today, I realize how badly in need I am of a second chance. I don't want to settle for a comfortable life. I don't want to settle for second best. I want passion, and renewed commitment in my life. Earlier this week I met a man from Rwanda. He survived the genocide and only a few members of his family remain. He said that the whole experience only served to strengthen his faith. It seems that we in North America have such shallow faith. One that's based on convenience. Personally, I feel that my faith has become numb, that I'm just going through the motions. I miss that passion that I used to have. I miss genuinely caring about the well-being of others. I miss hearing His voice.

Dad, would you grant me a second chance?