going under the knife

this morning a breeze blew in, and something came riding on it. maybe it was an idea. or just an impression. but i think if anything, it was only a hint of it. like when you think you smell rain, but you can't see clouds 'cause maybe it's night and you wonder if you really even smelled it at all...

i remember when i was an RA, at least once a day someone would show up in my room asking for some completely random object--and i always had it. i think maybe one time there was something someone needed and i didn't have it. i've always been "that person"...the person who functions like a convenience store or like some kind of contraption that the dad off of Gremlins would have invented to meet every conceivable practical need (alright, and well, seeing as how it's me we're talking about, every ridiculously impractical need as well, eg: "shaina! i need a fluorescent fanny pack full of troll dolls...can you hook me up?" "you know it! i'll be right back!" *descent into the abyss that is the storage closet*)

so anyways, i've been sitting here considering my closet (and the room downstairs full of boxes of junk from years-gone-by that i've yet to go through one final time before leaving home base)...and i'm considering how i'm in this strange state of suspension, between who i've been in the past and who i'm becoming in the now/future. who i was (the convenience store/person who would never throw nostalgic or "period pieces" away because of the amount of times my mom said "i used to have that, but i threw it out" about really rad things, and who was a complete Ariel about collecting one of a kind treasures and hoarding them away in my life full of loot) is still somehow inside of me because i never really bothered to exorcise her. and now she is resurfacing as i consider amputating my treasure trove from my progressive existence.

want to know the first bible verse i ever read that actually tangibly convicted me? "do not store up for yourselves treasures on earth, where moth and rust destroy, and where thieves break in and steal. But store up for yourselves treasures in heaven...for where your treasure is, there your heart will be also."

and i mean, i'm a different person now too. i don't need endless supplies of various things. i pretty much wear the same 8 pieces of clothing to the exclusion of all the "shaina" items that have ironically become very much "unshaina" as i've turned into a fashionably negligent hobo. (maybe i need to go on one of those makeover shows. where they secretly video tape you and show you later and all your loved ones laugh at you for being so lame and shiny strangers whisk you away to spend ludicrous amounts of money on ludicrously small amounts of designer clothing. YUCK! i honestly wouldn't be surprised if my mom or someone recommended me to them, but i honestly would give everyone involved a very big lecture about it. i wonder if they would air that?)

anyways, all that to illustrate how very strange it is to be your old self and your new self all at the same time and to try to figure out what parts of each you need to keep.

lately i've been disciplining myself to not think about the time beyond the immediate (quite yet). i have too much to keep in my brain for the moment, it's kind of a hand-to-mouth, one-day-at-a-time lifestyle for the time being. timetimetime. would you agree with me if i said that time is our culture's most valuable currency? mmmwell that's completely beside the point. but think about it. (not my idea by the way, i read it somewhere once).

but i've been sneaking in little moments where i indulge in the future, and they're kind of fun. this morning i even let myself briefly peruse a magazine that came for me while i was away and there was an article about vancouver in it (they always have an article about a city full of culture in each issue..usually american cities though). that made me wonder (as i had already been wondering while reading an old roommate's blog who thinks i should come live out there with her)...it felt kind of like a tap on the shoulder, like when you've had your eyes on something you're supposed to be looking at but then you got distracted when someone was like, "hey look at this!" (eg: a couple of friends lately saying "don't go to BC...come to ontario!"), and then the person you're actually supposed to be paying attention to gives you a nudge to get your gaze back where it needs to be. that's what that article felt like. i think.

then i let myself consider a little bit who i'm going to be and what i'm going to be doing in half a year's time. and that made me all the more excited to .. what's that word .. ah, prune. to prune my life. i think the treasure collector / practical princess inside of me has planted a tree and just let it grow to epic proportions, and the time is approaching where some edward scissorhands-esque action is going to be required. to take what i need, cut off what i don't, and let this life take some sort of shape.

i think that instead of being a multi-multi-purpose gadget, i just need to be a swiss army knife.

kill the seed

"an ode to passover"

nah, just kidding.


[ prologue ]

today was the first day of the year where i ran out the front door without even considering to consider whether or not to put on a jacket. that is always a good day. i also got to crack my first springtime opaque ice in the gutter on my way to my car. technically it's not spring yet...but it's close.

the other night, ashley and i had a blockbuster epiphany (i mean..it was in blockbuster) :
most 'holidays'...involve blood.
we had a very impressive presentation wherein we highlighted this fact numerous times.
"Easter? Blood. Halloween? Blood. Valentine's Day? Hearts--blood. Christmas? Bloodline. (and placenta)." (there was a previous discussion involving dogs giving birth..i'll spare you the details.) it went on and on. i was pretty impressed with us. i'm not sure vange and dayn were.

last night emily and i had a pretty good discussion about the Holy Spirit and about it being a foundation rather than a feature of a person. we talked about "self" and dying to yourself and how you really can't allow the Spirit to function properly if you're treating it like a consultant instead of an operator.

it's almost time to seed. my dad is a farmer. and i've been to bible college. so obviously, the concept of a seed needing to die to do anything productive is instilled in me. i guess it's kind of one of those cliche things that most christians are familiar with but probably don't take to heart as much as they should.

[ chapter 1 - death: i'm not goth--hear me out ]

so back to blood.

this time of year is covered in death.
depressing dead trees pressed against gloomy grey skies..brown grass matted with mud..farmers getting ready for the mutilation of the land and the mass genocide of their seeds..everything leading to Easter and the crucifixion..

what a perfectly good time to kill yourself.
well i mean, not literally. metaphorically.

[ chapter 2 - resurrection: not a horror movie, a love story ]

do you like putting an album on random mode? i do. it kind of gives you this feeling of someone else being in charge of what you are going to hear even though you chose the album you wanted to hear it from...almost like they could tailor it from wherever they invisibly are into a special message just for you.

do you like letting go of your life?

cigarettes'n'stuff

isn't it great how we're so prone to addiction.
we're so good at just getting hooked on things and buying into them to the point where we hand our lives over to them, the things.
and then one day, after a longass time of devoting all your time and resources to the thing, you stop and look back over it all and say to yourself, "did i seriously just do that?"

and who ever knows until it's way too effin' late whether it was worth it or not.
i'm one of those irritatingly content people who can usually swing any thing to seem like it was worth something in the end.
i just spent a week on a paper that i do not give a rat's sweet behind about. was that worth it? mmm probably not. i didn't really learn anything i didn't already know. except some stuff about chairs and ancient marriage customs. however, i did take a break tonight and write a few letters. i'm much happier about the 20 minutes i spent writing letters than i am about the week i spent writing that paper. i just spent 5 years and i don't even want to think about how much money on a degree. but i'm pretty sure it's useful for the most part. but there was definitely a lot of wasted time in there.
but i think i have a tendency to save up wasted time like toxic materials i'm waiting to detonate to make a really good point about something someday. so it probably works itself out.