Quote by Michael Casey :)

The sustainability of
our commitment
demands that we are
proactive in ordering
our life. In particular
it means nipping in the
bud any tendency to
lead a double life

by blurring the
boundaries between
good and evil.

We cannot afford

to be vague.

Behaviour inconsistent

with the commitments

we have made

usually begins at the level

of thought.

Long before any

overt infidelity a

mental betrayal

has occurred that is

not easily reversible

without great self-honesty

and considerable effort.

Michael Casey, Strangers to the City, Paraclete Press, 2005

Commercial Drive - The Broken and the Beautiful

Crisp and cold the evening, busy street alive around me. The fruit stand beside the bus stop smells fresh when you get up close. The fallen autumn leaves, left to fend for themselves on the sidewalks, crowd together to watch the show, just as I am. Its an exciting show called Commercial Drive, its cast the very people that walk along it.

`

I actually quite enjoy the fact it smells like weed tonight as I make my way to Grant Street alone because it reminds me of where I am, this wonderful neighborhood that I live in, full of the broken and the beautiful, and people who vote for the Marijuana Party. I think if Stephen Harper came here many would throw rubber chickens at him. Sorry Stevo, that's just the way it goes.

`
There are people wearing costumes, Halloween masks, fairy wings, and dominatrixes (if that's a word) everywhere. How ironic that these costumes considered an act of subversion for the rest of the year are perfectly accepted by all in this "frightful" season. I think if you are a dominatrix, you should dress up as a housewife for Halloween instead, cause at least that way you'd truly be out of character for a night - unless of course you were a housewife that was also a dominatrix...getting off track here.

I absolutely love the styles here - the thick layers of colours, ripped material, beaded bags and hats, and an endless stream of funky boots. Once upon a time you would have thought these people were ragamuffins, transients just passing though, but truth be told, most of them are highly intelligent university students getting master's degrees, activists for social justice, or inspired artists who pay hefty rents and own Macs.

You see, on the Drive looks can be deceiving. You never really know how to judge one person from the next when you walk down this vibrant street. It kinda just makes you give up on judging altogether - which is probably a good thing. I like to give in to the feeling I get here, a feeling of humanity and rebellion, the general sense that you know something crucial that the rest of the capitalist-friendly world doesn't, probably stemming from the hundreds of conspiracy theorists wandering in and out of coffee shops posting their convoluted bills.

I think I feel acceptable here, I feel that in all the confusion, searching, and the counterculture undertones, there is a deep honesty. People are not as afraid of seeing things differently or being seen differently, and I only wonder how easy it would be for God to move in people like that, people who are open, accepting, and compassionate by nature.

I believe there is a thin line here between lostness and redemption that most of us are walking like a tightrope - we just don't know it. But I can feel something as I walk alone tonight, on this crisp and cold evening, the busy street alive around me - its the presence of God on Commercial Drive the day before Halloween, and its everywhere, strong and enveloping, even surprising. I feel His hands reaching out, and His soul-penetrating whisper in the air, "I have loved you with an everlasting love". Can they hear it too?

Commercial Drive, I watched the show again tonight, I saw the faces of God's counterculture, lesbian, pot-smoking beloved, still waiting to find their true lover...."hold on", my heart cried, 'He's closer than you realise" in this wonderful neighborhood full of the broken and the beautiful...

Europe or Bust 2006 - picture as promised!

"...Fly me to the moon

And let me play among the stars

Let me see what spring is like

On Jupiter and Mars

In other words hold my hand

In other words, darling kiss me..."

`

dah dah dum dee dum....love that song...

`

Okay, back to business.

`

Hey everyone. As promised yesterday, I am posting our Europe pictures. I made an online photo album and have attached a link to it.

`

http://ca.pg.photos.yahoo.com/ph/amsamone/album?.dir=/f9c0scd&.src=ph&.tok=phMWQrFBevey3yvI

Have fun perusing.

`

Amber

The stethoscope says it all

Okay, so recently I came across quite an interesting phenomenon taking place here at St. Paul's Hospital, or shall I say, on the outskirts of the hospital, and that is that doctors are wearing their stethoscopes everywhere. Fashion statement? I think not.

My good friend, who will not be named here but who has lately had to tolerate a whole plethora of doctors, told me that she misses my blogging. I got to thinking about her and all the doctors, and then I got to thinking about doctors in general, and then I got to thinking about doctors who wear their stethoscopes outside of the hospital, i.e. at Starbucks or Sushi King, and it made me giggle and decide to blog about it.

I was contemplating these public displays of doctorness, and three reasons for previously said act came to mind:

1. The doctors were too busy to take off the stethoscope while making a mad dash from Grandma-with-bad-breast-fungus to non-fat-latte-with-shot-of-ginsing at Starbucks.

2. The doctors (male) are trying to pick up chicks with magical stethoscope of I-am-rich-smart-and-available and, I-know-more-about-your-private-bits-than-you-do.

3. The doctors (female) are asserting themselves as intelligent women in a male-dominated field with magic stethoscope of take-me-seriously-dangit! and, yes-I-am-too-good-for-you-so-don't-bother-asking-for-my-number.

Can't decide between the three to be honest...

Doctors of the world give ear...

`

If you have a legitimate explanation for why you parade around outside of the hospital with your stethoscopes on like its the newest thing to hit In Style magazine, please, post a comment and explain it to us.

Amber

I'm back...sort of

Okay, just so ya'll know, I am back from Europe and I am working and doing laundry and cooking dinner, and all of the regular things I did before I left...except blogging.

I fully intend to post some awe-inspiring stuff VERY soon, but for now my creative juices are, well, in the process of being squeezed.

I am going to post pictures and stories from Europe and much much more.

Don't stop checking up on my blog from time to time because soon you will find what you came for...the wonderfulness that is me.

Ciao for now

Amber

Gros bisous de Paris!

It was a 12-hour flight with a stop in Calgary and Edmonton (took off and landed a total of three times...talk about emersion therapy for those afraid of flying!). The seats were uncomfortable, the flight attendants were crabby (exept for Jerome), there was a three year old screaming for six hours during the night, and the woman in front of us coughed incessantly...but, after all that voila! WE have arrived in Paris!!! ITS BEAUTIFUL!!!

Its everything I though it would be (on first glance) and more! My gracious and beautiful friend Amanda greeted us at the airport and took us back to her place located in the 7th arrondissement (wow) of Paris in the Duroc area. She gave us a proper Paris introduction by taking us to her local Boulangerie (bakery) and bying us some baguets and cheese. We sat down after a long day of traveling, ate the freshly baked warm and crusty baguets with some French brie and gouda, and some nice Rose!! MMMMMMMM........I can't even describe the yuminess!

Yeah...well, I can't say too much only that we saw the Eiffel Tower all lit up tonight, walked through old parisian streets in the warm rain, had cafe au lait at a wonderful high-class cafe, and ate a three course authentic French dinner at an exquisite restaurant with goooooooood wine! (I even tried escargo!!! Wouldn't recomment it personallly).

Okay, well, just wanted to let you all know that I am experiencing c'est la belle vie! So amazing to be fulfilling one of my life long dreams.

love you all. Will update soon!

Bon soir mes amis!

Amber

ditch the dogma dudes!

D O G M A

"Your time is limited, so don’t waste it living someone else’s life. Don’t be trapped by dogma - which is living with the results of other people’s thinking.

Don’t let the noise of others’ opinions drown out your own inner voice. And most important, have the courage to follow your heart and intuition. They somehow already know what you truly want to become. Everything else is secondary."

- Steve Jobs, CEO and founder of Apple Computers, Pixar (now chairman), and NeXT.

I would have to absolutely agree with this amazing quote. Being surrounded by too many opinions and ideas can sometimes get overwhelming, especially if you are the type of person that listens to what people say and actually takes the time to process it carefully.

`

Growing up in a Christian environment, I very often found myself in a frazzled state trying to figure out what was right and wrong, and I lived with a lot of fear and shame because of this. I am not putting Christianity down in any way as this type of perceived tyranny is the product of any religion, belief, idea or standard that you are held accountable to by your friends, loved ones, or community. The reason Christianity and other religions can become heavy and opressive stems mostly from guilt and shame people begin to feel for "breaking the rules"- rules sometimes with God at the source, but rules with man at the source as well. They are pressured to change, to fit the "mould" but sometimes they just don't have the resources or foundations to make those changes - and no one is offering them either! At the end of the day many end up feeling hopeless and substandard, unable to see the accepting and forgiving nature of God (or people for that matter), or the value of their created lives. I have seen this happen to people myself, too many times...

`

Religion, supposedly put in place to connect us with our creator, has mostly served to put a wedge between us.

`

It was a day of thunder and lightening in my heart when I finally realized that many of the things I thought I believed, and actually measured other people by, were most likely false... or at least not intrinsically true! Its a humbling experience for every human being to finally say "I don't have all the answers". I mean, how many arguments are fought and wars waged on the basis of one side believing something different from the other, both sides believeing things impossible for human beings to prove anyway? Sigh.

Its hard to be human sometimes, having to learn to live with our many limitations - knowing all the secrets of the universe being just one of many from a very long list! The hardest part is that we are truly hungry for knowledge and understanding, and if we could have it all we would take it! But, alas, we must be content with the little morsels of truth that fall from God's table from time to time.

I stopped judging people for searching a long time ago. I stopped judging myself for doubting my faith at times also. Its not to say that I don't believe in God and that Christ came to save the world, I do, and very fervently, its just that I have come to terms with my own humanity and have realized that my faith truly is based on "things unseen". Because of this, I must believe as a child believes, without total proof, and with humility towards others who are also trying to figure out what that "unseen" thing really is, even if their beliefs fall outside the ideas of my christianity, your Islam, their Judaism, his Bhuddism, or her atheism, etc.

I think that God is big enough to help those searching for him to find him, including me. I learn a little bit more about God every day, and even though I have a HUGE list of things I have decided are "ultimate truth" (the existence of God being one of them), mine are just the first pages of a very very long book of revelation...I (we) have only just begun.

I mean, think about the concept of heaven - being up there worshipping God, everything is happy, everything is in order, but what happens after that? Do we just stop learning and growing as spiritual/emotional beings? No...yes...huh? I would hate to think of my journey of revelation ending, to be honest. "There must be more than this..."

Don't ask me what that "more" is though, I couldn't tell you....I won't ask you either because you couldn't tell me!

So friends, don't be worried about not knowing all the answers...no, be worried instead about not embracing and enjoying the learning process because you already think you know them all. Be worried about becoming arrogant and judgemental of those around you with different ideas, and being one of the people (I believe) God will hold accountable for waging the wars mentioned above just because you weren't willing to share the world with someone different from yourself.

If you think that I have "a lot to learn" for saying what I just did, you are probably one of those people. My advice to you - stop judging (lest ye be judged), don't be afraid of being wrong, and remember that you are just as finite as the rest of the human race. You will enjoy life and people a lot more if you can relax a bit. Why worry, "God is in control" after all, isn't he? He's gonna work out all the details...so chill.

`

To summarzie, I will ask an age old question - what came first, the chicken or the egg?

`

Ponder, ponder....E X A C T L Y !!!!!
`
So, I'm not saying that you shouldn't try to understand anything, just that you shouldn't put all of your eggs in one basket!

`

Hee hee...punny! I crack my self up!!! Get it? I "crack" myself up, like an egg? Okay, I'm done.

Isaiah 55 verse 7-11 says...

"Let the wicked forsake his way
and the evil man his thoughts.
Let him turn to the LORD,
and he will have mercy on him,
and to our God, for he will freely pardon.

'For my thoughts are not your thoughts,
neither are your ways my ways,'
declares the LORD.
'As the heavens are higher than the earth,
so are my ways higher than your ways
and my thoughts than your thoughts.

As the rain and the snow
come down from heaven,
and do not return to it
without watering the earth
and making it bud and flourish,
so that it yields seed for the sower and bread for the eater,
so is my word that goes out from my mouth:

It will not return to me empty,
but will accomplish what I desire
and achieve the purpose for which I sent it.' "

What you ask is certain?

God knows what.

Peace out,

Amber

emotional blindness - a poem

I wrote this simple poem about the times in life when someone you love is unable to see the beauty that life has to offer them. You are so desperately wanting to show them a rainbow of colour and break through their anger, their grief, or their bitterness, but all you can do is be patient with them and hold on to that beauty on their behalf, believing they will be able to see if for themselves again one day.

emotional blindness, you can’t see the colours
i’m holding a rainbow but its really no use
the reds and the yellows, a sunset of passion
the blues and the purples, my hearts deepest hues
.
i wish i could show you the beauty around you
and lift those thick scales of anger away
but all i can do is hold on to this rainbow,
until you are able to see it some day.
.
how lovely the day when your eyes finally open
i will be standing there smiling at you
and you will know that i always believed
your eyes would one day see these colours anew.

.

by: Amber

2006

P s a l m 1 8

Just wanted to post the lyrics to Lori Chaffer's acoustic version of Pslam 18.

She insightfully condenses the soul of this 50-verse psalm into a 4-verse ballad that keeps the meaning and intent fully intact. I have been drawing a lot of inspiration from Psalm 18 lately, as it reminds me that God truly is my great deliverer, and that I have great reason to "give thanks to you, oh Lord, among the nations, and sing praises unto Your name"

Psalm 18

I call to the Lord who is worthy of praise
And all my enemies don’t know where to face
The cords of death have entangled my feet
I cried to You and from Your temple You heard me and rescued me

He rode down on the wings of the wind
Dark clouds were a canopy around Him
He shot His arrows and He scattered my foes
With bolts of lightning they all became exposed

So I’ll sing alleluia
Alleluia
Praise the Lord

You, o Lord keep my lamp burning bright
My God turns my darkness into light
With my God I can scale a wall
With your help, I can win a war and not even fall

He makes my feet like the feet of a deer
And lets me stand on the heights high above my fears
He makes the path broad beneath my feet
So my ankles don’t turn and ruin me

So I'll sing alleluia
Alleluia
Praise the Lord

So I'll sing alleluia
Alleluia
Praise the Lord

nature has a new face - a poem

The changing of the seasons, like the changing of the gaurd,

.

Comes gracefully in the cool of an ebony night.
.
With mildness and majesty an exchange takes place in secret
.
And I wake to find that nature has a new face.

by: Amber

2006

I hate myself...again

I know, I know, the title of this post sounds horrible, but let me explain before you jump to conclusions...and no, I don't really hate myself.

Yesterday I spent an evening with a group of good friends listening to them share their life stories. Its always an honor to have someone consider you trustworthy enough to see their dirtiest of dirty laundry, (metaphorically speaking - realistically...ewww!) and yesterday evening there was a lot to hear and see.

It was after I returned home and tripped over my own laundry pile (quite literally a deplorable site of textile carnage that sucks all of my favorite bras into a vortex of eternal absenteeism, especially on the days I'm late for work), that a thought came into my mind - getting your laundry done has many parallels with dealing with your self-perception.

Now, there is the possibility (although slight) that you are one of those people who have never been neglected, hurt, demoralized, abandoned, devalued, ignored, abused, rejected or unloved by someone significant to you at any point in your life and you are 100% self-confident and happy in every situation. If that is you (you lucky duck) , please call me immediately because I have a really fantastic book to lend you called Denial - Its Not Just a River. However, if that is not you - you have probably experienced some degree of self-hatred, self misconception, or self doubt at some point in your life. I know I have - or have I? I just can't trust anything that comes out of my own mouth anymore!

So, as for the parallels, well....

Its sometimes dirty and sometimes clean. Many times the dirty stuff piles up for a long time completely ignored until everything important to you becomes lost in a frustrating, indecipherable mound. It then gradually starts taking up more and more space, thereby forcing you to set some time aside from your busy life to deal with it. It consists of blacks and whites, which are usually easy to separate, and then there are the colors - some darker, some lighter - which you always have to separate carefully and conscientiously to prevent them from bleeding out on each other turning everything into an unrecognizable gray. So much work.

Okay, now that we know what self perception looks like, lets talk about laundry.

Perhaps the most important laundry truth (and anyone who has done a lot of laundry in their lifetime will understand this) is that you have to actually fold and put away the clean stuff right away or else it will just end up on the floor with all of the dirty stuff in a matter of days. You can tell yourself, "I'll just put that away later when I have more time", but inevitably it is forgotten and in a few days its back on the floor.

Guilty as charged.

I think the same thing may be true of self perception. When you deal with your negative self perceptions you begin to feel all clean and good on the inside; unfortunately, before you can say, "my life is a chapter from Dante's Inferno, nobody likes me, the world is ending, and please stop staring at my foot fungus", you have somehow completely forgotten the good things about you, and are right back on the floor getting mixed up with the dirty stuff again.

I think, in some ways, this is due to the fact that when we are dealing with our issues we get lazy with the "folding and putting away" part. I've seen it over and over again - you go to that great counselor a few times, maybe you get some prayer, talk to you friends, take an amazing self-esteem workshop, or read a life-changing book, and, congratulations, you finally reached the top of the mountain and feel oh so wonderful about yourself....so wonderful, in fact, that you start forgetting that changing your perceptions and behaviors takes focused time and effort, the distractions of life set in, and slowly the important things you were beginning to learn start to slip away.

Sometimes I feel convinced that I have finally gotten over my "issues", but then somehow, almost without me noticing, I'm a little child crying under the kitchen table feeling sorry for myself, and I just don't know how I got back under there. What about that positive self image I had a few weeks ago? Do I need to get my short-term memory checked out? Do I need to get my short-term memory checked out?

The reason I'm really putting thought into this is actually because of you more than myself. You know, I can't stand it when my friends don't see how beautiful, how worthy, how full of life, talent, ability and truth, and - most importantly of all - how loved they truly are. And, it seems clear to me that what's holding us back from receiving God's love and seeing beauty in the world on a consistent basis is not the outside forces, but the inside forces - the ones that are actually almost completely controlled by us. God says, "Here I am", and we say, "great, but you couldn't possible be here for stupid-old, messed up, ugly me", even though He has proved otherwise over and over again through the small miracles, the people in our lives that love us, and the blessings of life and nature. I know that I, personally, am pretty hard to please.

It probably makes God sad that we sometimes hate ourselves and don't believe what he says about us. I know how frustrated I get when people won't accept my love. I just want to shake them silly and say, "Don't you get how much I love you!? Take it, TAKE IT ALL". It doesn't do any good though because they still ultimately refuse to accept my offer.

I am almost convinced that self hatred is stale-mating the human existence!

Okay, so all said and done, the point of this post is to encourage all of you (and myself) to nurture that part of you that tends to get down on yourself, and to REALLY REALLY work hard at remembering the TRUTH about who you are.

To qoute from a Pink song:

"I'm a hazard to myself, yeah, don't let me get me, I'm my own worst enemy, it's bad when you dont know yourself...so irritating, don't wanna be my friend no more, i wanna be somebody else "

At times I know many of us have related to that chorus.

So, please friends, be gracious to yourselves. Nurture yourselves. Hold on to the wonderful insights that God has given you about who you are and what you're worth. Write them down in a place you can see, tattoo them on your arm or send yourself an automatic daily "you kick butt" message, because - light bulb - just like every human being on the planet, you're a little fickle! Yes, I'm talking to you! You see, I've seen you forget, I've seen you get down on yourself, and I've seen you make choices from those unhealed places of self hatred and self doubt that have made you unhappy with your life at times... and I know you've seen the same from me.

The truth is, a lot of the time (not all the time) we know better, we just need to remember, remember, remember, who we really are.

So - tripping on my laundry pile and thinking about self perception has developed into another long post from the mind of Amber Samaya- a genuinely loving and generous, heart-on-sleeve young woman who loves you, and hopes you love yourself just as much.

Until I get inspired again...

Amber

Post "Send" Regret Syndrome (PSRS)

I would like to take a moment to address a very serious condition I have named Post "Send" Regret Syndrome or PSRS.

Anyone who extensively uses E-mail to keep relationships alive, or, god forbid, to aid in confronting someone when you are too afraid of the face-to-face, probably knows what I'm talking about.

Post "Send" Regret Syndrome has affected millions of people worldwide and is spreading faster and faster as computers take over the world and people slowly lose their ability to accurately calculate cause and effect before pressing that all-or-nothing button...send.

Back in the old days of sending letters via regular post, if you sent something that started to conjure symptoms of PSRS, you could catch a plane to the destination city of your letter, wait on the recipient's street in camo for the mail man to walk by, tackle him unwittingly, spray him with tear gas, tranquilize him, sort through the mail while he's out cold, retrieve the "regretted" item, and promptly catch your return flight home - dignity intact. Now, with messages in mail boxes at the touch of a button - you have no way out! What's done is done, and you will inevitably begin to suffer from PSRS.

PSRS is also a component of Turret's syndrome, which, in some severe cases (such as my own), a person is prompted by uncontrollable inward notions to write down ambigous quotes from Monty Python movies and send them out randomly to people on their E-mail list. I sincerely apologize if any of you have been deeply wounded by my comment that made referance to your mother being a hamster and your father smelling of elderberries. It was very insensitive and I promise to be more original next time (inward notions permitting).

Anyway, for those of you who have suffered from PSRS or are currently suffering from PSRS after accidentally sending your boss the letter that was intended for your new boss (the one you will have when you quit your job in two days), or perhaps sending your Jewish mother the letter that was intended for Oscar Meyer Inc demanding a refund on the oversized pork sausage that you almost chocked to death on - you have my sympathy.

PSRS is not relieved with Tylenol, Advil, Ativan, Valium, or apologies. If you are suffering from PSRS on a regular basis, you should contact your local internet service provider and cancel you high-speed internet connection. I would suggest getting dial-up instead which will undoubtedly prompt you to once again send letters via regular post (which can be intercepted in cases of regret) knowing they will arrive faster than the dial-up connection to your E-mail account.

Together we can survive PSRS, together we can stop the madness.

Anyone interested in starting a wog (walk/jog) for PSRS awareness, please E-mail me your name and number - and if I get that letter intended for your underwear fetish cult leader, I will just forget it ever happened.

Cheers.

Pain Dances - a short poem

Pain dances on my soul with shards of glass in his shoes.

Silently he glides along this dark, secluded stage...

and I am his only audience.

I'm Every Woman

Today I want to post a poem I wrote two months ago, dedicated to a woman I work with. Its about women...how they long to be seen, long to have their beauty and their worth recognized and enjoyed, and most importantly of all, they long to bring beauty to the world around them. I have reflected on this quite frequently this year as I have met many woman who are struggling with the prospect of living out their own femininity.

I believe many women live in the shadow of the desires they made themselves kill, and it is a big shadow, a painful shadow. It is the thing we try to hide or forget about, and it has caused us to take on a cynical natures towards our lives, our bodies, our relationships, and our happiness. We are harder now than ever before, and it's not because we are opressed from the outside, it is because we are repressed on the inside - having to deny or live without so many of our natural feelings, desires, and instincts in order continue being the "free" and "modern" women that we are.

Truth be told, many woman I observe around me are desolate, loveless, lonely, and wondering what to do with their feminity in a world where it is still viciously assaulted from many directions. And men? Relationships? Well, their hearts are so buried and afraid from countless abuses and the hardness that comes with self preservation, they don't feel they have the faintest hope anymore of finding someone they can trust enough to truly love. But, there is still an ache for companionship, and ache to be loved and cherished, for their beauty to be appreciated, and just like roses in a vase, they wait with both their thorns and soft pedals for someone to see the beauty they let themselves give up once upon a time. Hence, a poem:



Just Like Roses

I put my roses on display
so I could see them every day
divinest red against the grey
created just to be that way...beautiful.

And just like roses, so do we
want a man who's heart will choose to see
the treasure that a woman brings
into a life of empty things... is beautiful.

And what of roses hidden well
whose beauty none have seen to tell?
Created to be seen, they wait,
for deeper love with deeper hate...of beautiful.

Oh, lovely roses, you should be seen,
Just like the woman by the stream,
with nothing but a broken dream
and what is left for her to glean...of beautiful.

For you, my sister, are also a rose
Beyond the thorns your softness shows
perhaps not seen by him you chose
let it be YOUR HEART that knows...you are beautiful.

The Starbucks Ultimatum

(I wrote out this little saga a couple days ago and sent it to some friends...thought I'd paste it here too just for fun :)

Okay, so this morning I got in my first official fight with a Starbucks employee. I'm not sure if it was him (well, I'm pretty sure it was him) or me (I'm usually quite perfectly well behaved...don’t laugh), but needless to say, something went awry.

I stopped by the Starbucks a few blocks away from my usual Starbucks, against my better judgement (once you pick a Starbucks you should always be faithful and build up a rapport with current wave of over-caffeinated, over-worked barristas to ensure you get adequate coffee specification compliance and service). I proceeded to order a GRANDE, DARK ROAST COFFEE WITH 1% MILK. Now considering the fact there are about a gazillion people in in this city that order FAR MORE complicated drinks than that, I figured, this is an easy one - not so.

The barrista that handled my drink, a husky, Norweigan-ish looking guy with reddish blonde hair, a beard, and a lackadaisical attitude to boot, asked me if I wanted my milk cold or steamed. After a few seconds of deep inner rumination on his kind and thoughtful steamed vs cold milk proposition, I decided to go with steamed because it sounded warm and comfortable, it conjured up nostalgic Christmas-time memories, and it seemed like my taste buds were "in the mood". They called out my order when it was complete, and I happily went over to the counter after paying $2.86, and grabbed it longingly - looking forward to the moment I would sit down at my desk and take that first glorious, sensual sip. I am the kind of person that is extremely cafe-en-route challenged. I never drink my coffee while walking because it is sure to end in some sort of embarrassing coffee stain or painful burn; hence, I did not taste the coffee before arriving at work 2.5 blocks away. It was then that things changed....dum dum duuuuummmm.

I sat down at my desk, said hello to my groggy morning colleagues, got comfortable, turned on my computer (as per the usual routine), and then took the first sip of my "coffee". Eck!!!!!!! This wasn't coffee, and it wasn't dark, this was (and I say this is a hushed voice)....PLAIN STEAMED MILK!!! Oh, the horror, the HORROR!!!! After a loud gasp and immediate inquiry by all colleagues present re the source of my shock , I shared the horror of my MIA grande dark roast coffee. With some kind encouragement from my equally horrified colleagues, I decided to march back the 2.5 blocks to Starbucks and politely ask for some REAL COFFEE! You just can’t expect a transcriptionist to start listening to butch female polish doctors with last names like Wojtowska and deep husky voices until she has her morning coffee! It isn't done, its inhumane really.

I knew that it was just an innocent mistake (we are born innocent, believe me Adia, we are still innocent...) so I was not intending to be angry with the good fellow, I just wanted to be rid of the frothy bovine effluence and get my dark Yukon dark roast, stat! When I arrived back at Starbucks, about 15 minutes later, I, of course, encountered a line-up of people who were starting to arrive "two-by-two" on the coffee ark just past the not-so-busy-that-you-have-to-wait-in-line Starbuxing hour (5:30 am to 6:30 am). I sighed, knowing that I would have to wait even longer for some caffeine, starting, at this point, to tweak out and feel my eyeballs moving from side-to-side. I waited for about 5 minutes and then it was FINALLY my turn.

I was very polite and sweet and started with the most polite opening statement I could conjure - "I'm sorry to trouble you..." . You see, I am helplessly self-deprecating and sheepish and never like to "assert" myself in matters as insignificant as coffee mix-ups, but I continued on valiantly to explain that I had a big cup of steamed milk when I had, in fact, asked for a big cup of COFFEE. At first his reaction was commendable, the barrista seemed genuinely pained at the trouble he had caused me and the fact that I had to walk all the way back there, and he then proceeded to ask me if I wanted a "London Fog" instead . This confused me and sort of threw me off because I had just finished repeating for the SECOND TIME that I wanted a GRANDE, DARK ROAST COFFEE WITH 1% MILK. I said "NO, just give me a coffee with some 1% milk!". He seemed a little perturbed that I wasn't on board with his "London Fog" idea, and at this point I was starting to get annoyed as well - I had enough fog in my half-asleep brain still desperately needing to be aroused by caffeine, and I didn't need anymore! Why this was an issue for him, I have no clue.

So, as he was getting my drink I looked at the price menu and realized, much to my chagrin, that they had charged me $2.86 for the steamed milk, when the GRANDE COFFEE I had ordered was only $1.97 with tax. I thought that I should probably ask for my 0.89 cent refund, as it was well-deserved considering the circumstances. I told another barrista who was working the till this, and he seemed fine with it and just told me to wait for "the other guy".

When "the other guy" came back over with my brand spankin' new coffee, I asked him, once again very politely, for a refund of the difference between the steamed milk (that I didn't order in the first place) and the plain old grande coffee with 1% milk - not a London Fog a Brazilian Rainstorm or an Oklahoma Hurricaine - just a plain old COFFEE! After asking for a refund, the barrista, again, seemed perturbed and frustrated, and he reached under the "employees only know what is down here" counter and pulled out a "free coupon" , handed it to me and said, "here, just take a free coupon". You see, in most circumstances I wouldn't have minded his "free coupon", because you can get a lot of use out of a free coupon, however, because this guy had been full of attitude and drink suggestions involving fog before 7:00 am, I was not yet a "satisfied customer". I thought about it for a second before walking away with the "not-so-free coupon" and then came to the conclusion that I not only deserved a free coupon, I also deserved a refund of the difference between the wrong order (steamed milk), and the right order (COFFEE!). And so I said it - "Um, are you going to give me my money back. You over-charged me for the coffee, and a 'free coupon' isn't free unless you pay me back the difference!".

Call me bold, call me crazy, but at the time this request seemed logical to me - the barrista, aka "the other guy" did not share my sentiments however, and this is when he gave me the ultimatum, "look, you can take the coupon, or you can take the dollar, but you can't have both, so what will it be?!" I almost wanted to laugh, it was 6:51 am, I was on round two of coffee ordering at Starbucks, and I was getting a STARBUCKS ULTIMATUM! I never thought this day would come...the day I would have to choose between a "not-so-free coupon" and a refund I rightly deserved in Starbucks . Starbuck, Starbucks, Starbucks. Its not just on every corner of every street, its now on every corner of every functioning part of by brain!

Feeling somewhat perturbed myself, and not wanting to continue this battle of the not-yet-caffeinated, I decided to leave - but first, of course, I gave him "the look". You know, "THE look", the one that's supposed the say all of the brilliant and witty things you couldn't think of saying at the moment, then I grabbed my real coffee, and the "not so free coupon" , and left. And now, I have just wasted 45 minutes of work time to talk about it.

The moral of the story is..... sometimes in life if you can’t "have it all" it really isn’t good enough, and I’m the kind of gal who WANTS IT ALL!! Oh yeah, and....DOWN WITH STARBUCKS ! Or at least the one on the corner of Burrard and Smithe in Vancouver, and the barrista known as "the other guy".

I am now drinking my real grande Yukon dark roast, and it was worth every bit of trouble! All I know is that I'm gonna use that "not-so-free" coupon, and make it worth my while!

"Hi, I’d like a Vente lowfat triple guatemalan antigua decaf machiatto with amaretto flavoring and topped with whipped cream and the tiniest dash of freshly grated nutmeg - please".

And just when they thought it was over I’ll come back 15 minutes later and say, "I’m sorry, I ordered a steamed milk!"

Just kidding.

Cheers.

How heavy is the glass of water??

I received this great forward today and I just HAVE to post it because I think that so many people are over-stressed (me being one of them) and GOD has called us to REST. So...just think about it my friends.

A lecturer, when explaining stress management to an audience, raised a glass of water and asked,

"How heavy is this glass of water?"

Answers called out ranged from 20g to 500g.
The lecturer replied,

"The absolute weight doesn't matter.
It depends on how long you try to hold it.
If I hold it for a minute, that's not a problem.
If I hold it for an hour, I'll have an ache in my right arm.
If I hold it for a day, you'll have to call an ambulance.
In each case, it's the same weight, but the longer I hold it, the heavier it becomes."

He continued,

"And that's the way it is with stress management.
If we carry our burdens all the time, sooner or later, as the burden becomes increasingly heavy, we won't be able to carry on. As with the glass of water, you have to put it down for a while and rest before holding it again. When we're refreshed, we can carry on with the burden."

So, moral of the story is before you return home tonight, put the burden of work (or whatever else) down. Don't carry it home. You can pick it up tomorrow. Whatever burdens you're carrying now, let them down for a moment if you can.

Why not take a while to just simply RELAX. Put down anything that may be a burden to you right now. Don't pick it up again until after you've rested a while. Life is short. Enjoy it!

Here are some great ways of dealing with the burdens of life:
* Accept that some days you're the pigeon, and some days you're the statue.
* Always keep your words soft and sweet, just in case you have to eat them.
* Always read stuff that will make you look good if you die in the middle of it.
* Drive carefully. It's not only cars that can be recalled by their maker.
* If you can't be kind, at least have the decency to be vague.
* If you lend someone $20 and never see that person again, it was probably worth it
* Never put both feet in your mouth at the same time, because then you won't have a leg to stand on.
* Nobody cares if you can't dance well. Just get up and dance.
* Since it's the early worm that gets eaten by the bird, sleep late.
* The second mouse gets the cheese.
* When everything's coming your way, you're in the wrong lane.
* Birthdays are good for you. The more you have, the longer you live.
* You may be only one person in the world, but you may also be the world to one person.
* Some mistakes are too much fun to only make once.
* We could learn a lot from crayons...Some are sharp, some are pretty and some are dull. Some have weird names, and all are different colors, but they all have to live in the same box.
*A truly happy person is one who can enjoy the scenery on a detour.
Have an awesome day !!

S U R P R I S E!!!! Its your birthday party!

So yesterday my friends, some new and some old, threw me a quite fun and quite deranged surprise party. I was told by my ever-suave husband that I was being taken out for a romantic dinner, just the two of us, and I was thus prepared for an evening of candlelight, relaxing music, some fine wine, and the occasional caressing of hands - picture something akin to Michelangelo's Creation Of Man painting.

I was quite happy about this, after all you only turn 22 once, unless you believe in reincarnation, in which case I may actually be you reincarnated and this is your 67th 22nd birthday - happy birthday, you old soul you!!!!

So, as we are headed to the secret restaurant destination, my anticipation growing, my hunger swelling up inside me, we suddenly take a right turn, coincidentally might I say, down my best friend Jacquie's street. My husband's explanation for this - "I have presents for you stored at her place". Hmmm...think think...that's probably true, no funny business here, oh, but wait, he wants me to come inside!!!! At this point, having missed all the warning signs completely, those being (to name a few): my friend Patrick's white-as-snow Ford parked on the street, the statement earlier in the day by my friend Desiree that she was "sorry she couldn't stay for my birthday", and the disappointing news that my special girlfriends rendezvous planned for Monday had been cancelled. Even after all this, I unwittingly made my way inside to the party.

"S U R P R I S E !!!!!" Such a fun way to start an evening with friends, really it is, especially if you don't throw up or start laughing hysterically with embarrassment. :) It was quite a surprise - all of my friends, some from church circles, some from friend circles, some from very strange circles that we won't talk about here, all in one room together to celebrate me. Its quite overwhelming really, even more than a wedding, cause at least some of the attention goes to your significant other - but not at a surprise birthday party - nope - its all about you baby and its time to impress, to be the most entertaining Amber all your friends have ever known. You must endeavor to prevent people from asking, "Hey, why are we devoting an entire evening to one person", and then you are forced to locate your inner diva and answer, "Its because I'm frikin amazing! Now get me some cake!".

During the course of the evening, I found myself doing impressions of Stewie from Family Guy, and my most evil of evil laughs for the sheer enjoyment of my demanding friends. I noticed that my new friends looked a little frightened by my evil laugh and perhaps wondered if I was a few fries short of a happy meal.

This is the point in the evening I proceeded to suggest lame party games like charades. Charades is such a fabulous game, especially "amongst the brethren". It's good ole' clean fun and a chance for everyone to get their two minutes of fame that may, perhaps, go down in charade history. The charade from last night that will forever go down in surprise party charade history, was performed by none other than Cheryl N.. Cheryl is, and I quote, "not a party game person", and I assume this is the result of some past party-game trauma. Nonetheless, she was forced by Team 2 to do her part, and she did a surprisingly life-like impression of Jabba The Hut from Star Wars.

It was amazing really - the drool, the obesity, the disqustingness - it all came out nicely in her acting, but for some reason every time someone yelled out "Jabba The Hut!?" as a guess, Cheryl looked mad and flabbergasted. It was about five minutes into this going-nowhere charade session that we, on Team 1, realized she had picked the card that said "YODA", and was, in fact, quite confused and in need of some serious Star Wars re-education.

We helped the poor child out by informing her that she was acting out the wrong character, and allowed her to proceed with the actual YODA charade. That one wasn't as impressive, but by this time, she was so exhausted from acting out Jabba The Yoda/Yoda The Hut that we let it go. I thought that it might be a good idea to organize a meeting for Cheryl with my friend Dawson, who is, at least in my estimation, a Star Wars buff. She will get a proper re-education, and with some work, we can ensure this mal-charading never happens again. I have to add that this disgusting charade mishap has further added to Cheryl's party-game trauma, and she is probably at home crying right now.

So after the Charades was gift opening time. I have to say, I was showered with gifts, and got gifts I could shower with (from Lush and Escents)...hee hee hee, I crack myself up! No, but seriously now, I got a LOT of gifts, too many really, and it was very overwhelming and embarrassing. They wanted me to open them one by one, watch the expression on my face, my every response. Getting through the gift opening part was the hardest! The coolest gift I got was deliriou5?: cutting edge, an old-school CD that brought back a lot of fond memories for me (this is a shout out to all my old OCF peeps, I still can't believe we didn't break Brian and Lucie's floor the way we danced to Happy Song!). Anyway, like I said, the gifts were amazing, such a blessing, I was spoiled rotten, especially by my husband, and...I like it!

After the gift opening, the party started to die down; one by one people began to leave, I was hugged, kissed, and sweet happy birthdays were whispered in my ear. It was a wonderful party, really it was, and I feel so valued and loved. We laughed, we cried, we ate and drank. There was even a spontaneous co-ed cake fight that broke out, which may have permanently stained Jacquie's carpet with blue icing. I tell ya, Christians get really out of hand at surprise parties, and something like blue icing always gets spilled on the floor. Its wrong, just wrong!

The funny thing about surprise parties is that in order to have a really good one, you first have to think that your friends have completely forgotten about you and feel really sorry for yourself. I didn't think I was going to have a party. There was not a lot of mention about one, I was really confused, and as far as I knew plans were being switched and rearranged and it was a bit dissapointing. Chris and JQ did a great job of setting me up for this one. Hee hee. It's only after you enter a room full of smiling faces yelling surprise and see the presents, food, and balloons that you realize (much to the chagrin of your self-pitying id), "They love me, they really love me!". To think, a group of people from all different walks of life would wait patiently in a stranger's livingroom for me to make my fashionably late arrival!!! What a blessing, and, of course, what a surprise.

Sometimes being loved and cherished is surprising, especially in this world. God's love is like that - just when you thought you were worth nothing "surprise!", there is a friend that sticks closer than a brother.

I feel so blessed, and I am so happy to be 22! Yay, another year of renewal and abundance of life in Christ!

Thanks to all my friends for loving me and celebrating me!

Peace out.
Amber

Stocking up on toilet paper!

Yesterday I drove past a store that specialized in toilet paper. There were big sign outside advertising "two for the price of one", "special family pack", "three-month supply guaranteed". This struck me as odd, and well, I'm still struck. To think about the research that went into that. I wonder if you could volunteer to be in a research group for toilet paper. "Um, yes, I'd like to be in your toilet paper research group, I'll count every sheet and get back to you in six weeks". And, what's all the fuss about toilet paper anyways? Its not like we're running out...

"or are we?"


Can you imagine if toilet paper was a precious commodity, like gas for instance. "Oh dang, the price of TP went up again - we better go to the 2 for 1 store and stock up!". Maybe in that situation I would go specifically to the toilet paper store, but until that day, I'm happy with the occasional stroll down the toilet paper isle at my local grocery store.

:)

Dealing with my feelings on the "D" word

Over the last few months I have been dealing with a lot of things, but an issue that was really on the forefront was my feelings about divorce. I don't know if I ever really did deal with my parent's divorce the way I should have, or that I really got the closure that I needed, but for some reason "divorce", this word that so easily slips off our culture's tongue, had become a stumblingblock in my mind. One day, sitting alonge on a quiet Thursday evening, I decided to explore some of my feelings - the deep, dark, bad, ugly, lump-in-your-throat feelings - this word "divorce" conjured up inside of me, in all of its passive aggressive tyranny. Here it is:


Divorce
By Amber O'Neill

Divorce...a gloomy winter of isolation.
The coldest the heart has ever been...aching.
The flood of unending grief from the many deaths your soul has died,
acceptance of the invested love that has been squandered.
Identity, the mirror is cracking, your reflection muddled and displaced.
You are no longer defined by what was once yours, what was once beautiful,
now taking its last breath as it transforms into a painful memory beneath the
unrelenting snow...
Lost forever, buried, taking with it your young and fragile dreams.
Resentment, like scalding water searing through your veins,
your cauldron of anger boils over, the fire fueled by your unending lists of pain.
Hatred walks towards you carrying his false promises of appeasement,
but you know there is no such thing.

Neglected, your beautiful parts never fully unveiled,
Like a secret field of fragrant roses that will remain undiscovered
An unfortunate swan princess whose prince could not make the journey to save her...
another great warrior whose lady fair cut off his locks of strength.
Loneliness, like a black fog seeps into each pore of your skin.
You are desolate left only with your self doubt as it overwhelms, mocks,
reaffirms your unworthiness, "no one will ever love you", a voice whispers in your
ear. Fear, lying alone at night with no one to touch you, no one to make the dark room
feel gentle. The monsters under the bed become real once again,
but they are your only companions.

Forgotten, the intricate parts of yourself woven together with another,
all of the times you laughed and cried, the nakedness of your souls and bodies,
your vulnerable surrender for another - wasted.
Acceptance, the grief and the coldness of winter, the death of your idealism,
A stepping stone, tasting the ultimate test of the human spirit in survival.
Adaptation, like weary nomads moving vast distances in search of something lasting.
"When will our journey end?" We ask the sky.
Divorce...the last scene of a play for which there is no enlightened applause,
and as the curtain slowly closes, and the theater abruptly empties...so does your
heart.