I'm baaaaack?!

I haven't blogged in a really long time.

I think I've had (have) writer's block. At Christmastime, I was inspired and wrote a play in, like, three days. Literally--once the idea came, it had to be written before I lost the motivation and love of the characters. So I'd stay up late, typing, and write every spare minute I had... and now I can say I've written a play. And since then, I haven't really written anything.

Instead, I've been reading--anything and everything. (But even then I feel somewhat incomplete, because I should be at least writing about the books I've been reading--because if I've loved them, I feel an obligation to recommend them.) And life in general has just been busy, so I've let my creativity slide the last few months. But, I am realizing that I miss the Krista that writes. I think she's coming back... not sure exactly what she's going to produce, but it's time for her to be fed again! So, time to be intentional about the whole writing thing. We'll see what happens...

Listening to: "So Small" by Carrie Underwood, anything David Cook
Craving: Thai food, All Star Wings (not together)
Just finished reading: "The Boy in the Striped Pajamas" (HIGHLY recommended)
Wishing: I had a better singing voice
Loving: Playing Mommy for a weekend with my brothers and little sister

The Inexact Science of Subtle Drama

The original idea for this piece came to me in the middle of a work meeting sometime in the summer, but it took a while to form in my head--and then it pretty much wrote itself in one sitting. I'm not sure if the ironies will resonate with everyone but I think I like it...

THE INEXACT SCIENCE OF SUBTLE DRAMA
a monologue about oxymorons

I didn’t get the part. I don’t understand it! I gave everything in the audition. I was loud, I was bold, I was confident, I was passionate—I was acting. I mean, if that isn’t enough, then what is?

I asked the director why he wouldn’t cast me. He kind of just looked at me, as if he couldn’t believe what I was saying. So I asked again. He sighed, and then said something about me not being suited to the part, that they wanted someone who was a little less obvious in their interpretation of the character. I was so confused and I asked him what he meant. He thought about it for a second, and then said, “two words: subtle drama.”

Subtle drama? That doesn’t make any sense. How does that even work? I thought acting was about being out there, about putting yourself in front of the audience, about demanding their attention. It’s about saying here I am: all my emotions are bleeding in front of your eyes on this stage! Subtle drama? I don’t know how that can work. But whatever. I don’t want to be in his stupid show if that’s what he’s like. I don’t need your subtle drama.

Seriously, though, I still don’t get it. Why shouldn’t theatre be obvious? I thought about it all the way home on the bus. I think that director is using some pretty fuzzy logic. I don’t know how he expects his actors to get their message across. I mean, what does he want them doing? Standing on stage in a deafening silence? I don’t know. But whatever. Everyone has their own creative process I guess, whatever that means. But it doesn’t matter because I’m going nowhere in his show. It’s bitter sweet, I guess, but whatever. He can’t tell me I am a bad actress! We’ll just have to agree to disagree about our different visions of what a character is supposed to look like on the stage.

I’m over it. The stupid audition is old news and I’m moving on to the next thing, whatever that is. You know, I wouldn’t do his show even if he asked me to, and that’s like the same difference of not being cast at all. As for the whole subtle drama thing, I still don’t really know what he was talking about, but who really cares anyway? I guess it’s an inexact science, and that’s just the pretty ugly truth. Not like I know what I’m talking about or anything.

Sunflower

On my Ipod:

Hollywood's Not America by Ferras, Beat It (Fall Out Boy version)

I love:

Performing with the piano, exercising while watching TV

I've dreamed about:

Political figures, getting an exclusive interview with Angelina Jolie

I'm happy:

That I haven't bitten my nails since the spring, that I have a good passport photo (I even kept the old one for entertainment's sake... it's just SO BAD), that Hannah is working with me this month

I miss:

Performing on stage, summertime

Sunflowers represent:

Cuteness, brightness in life that is worth celebrating

Perspective

Maybe it's because I'm a girl, and because a lot of my friends are girls, but for whatever reason, the subject of emotions has come up a lot lately in conversation. Like, the whole debate over whether it is better to have loved and lost than to never have loved at all and bla bla bla... I don't know the answer, maybe because my head and my heart disagree pretty strongly on that front. All I know is that I never want emotions to trump perspective. I don't want to feel without knowing there is something bigger to meter those emotions, to keep me grounded.

I guess it's kind of like being an athlete--sure, there are those moments of unbridled glory in victory, but they only come after years of training. That moment is only one part of the story. Ultimately, if you want to succeed, you need to have focus and commitment that overrides everything else. Know who you are, know what you want and believe in it--and then sort out the feelings thing.

Easier said than done, maybe--but I think it's worth trying.

Faster, Higher, Stronger

It's the Olympics! I love it all: the sport, the drama, the passion, the pride... So far, there are tons of standout stories. None are quite as amazing, though, as Michael Phelps. Leading up to the games, I had decided that I wasn't a fan; I'd read a few articles in Sports Illustrated and Time and thought he was a cocky American. (My favourite comment was his response to the reporter's question "can you name two exercises that can help people develop a swimmer's body?" Phelps: "Well, they could try swimming.") I changed my mind, though, with each race, each record and each gold medal. Even my little sis, who still thinks boys are gross, admitted to me that she thought he was cute, big ears and all.

Physical conditioning aside, how can you not love a guy who can set world records even when he isn't feeling great... who wins by a mile even when his goggles have filled with water... who can slaughter the competition's dreams with a well-timed butterfly stroke touch... who respects his relay teammates, knowing his feat would be impossible without them... a guy who deep down is an ADD kid who was teased because of his big ears... a guy who wins his eighth medal and says he just wants to go see his mom?!

I admire the ability to channel all energy into talent and into passion. They say he takes everything--happiness, anger, everything--and channels it into strength in swimming. The famous Aussie swimmer Ian Thorpe was quoted saying he thought Phelps couldn't swing eight gold medals in Beijing. The article went straight onto Phelps' locker--and Thorpe was there, at the Watercube, to see Phelps prove him wrong on Sunday morning.

How can I watch and not be inspired?! Not that I'm planning on winning eight gold medals, somehow, I feel more ready to beat the odds. I've been feeling for a while that, well, it's about time.

Today's Four Thoughts

- The one thing harder than getting hurt yourself is seeing someone you love get hurt and not being able to do anything to fix it.

- I am having insane cravings for jalapeno poppers this week.

- The Olympics are on! It's consuming us at work and it's a fun kind of busy. This is today's story that breaks my heart a little bit. On the other side of the spectrum, there is Michael Phelps and his five gold medals, five world records--so far. Yowza!

- One of the best things about having a younger sister is that you can dance around the basement together with hairbrush microphones singing Miley Cyrus. No apologies.

Bonne nuit!

Things I've been thinking about lately...

It's funny how sometimes you can be yourself without really knowing yourself. You can exist being completely blind to major things (good or bad) that define you--and just when you think you've figured it all out, you surprise yourself yet again by learning something new.

Sometimes in relationships you have to learn to just accept what you can get. There are so many things you can't control. Sometimes you just have to be okay with that and enjoy things for what they're worth instead of always wanting more.

"Alice in Wonderland" is a good theme--for a year, for a party, maybe for anything! There are just so many possibilities for where it can take you...

Trend Watch

I bought a hat last Saturday night and the next day Rihanna showed up at the MMVAs in one a lot like it. How fun is that?

Snapshot

My most recent obsessive craving: anything with peanut butter (Reese's Pieces, peanut butter toast, chocolate peanut butter ice cream--ANYTHING!)

My most recent cool snack discovery: Dentyne Chocomint gum

My classic favourite nail polish: Lincoln Park after Dark

My new favourite funky nail polish: Lemonade Stand by Your Man

My new favourite song that I liked the moment I heard it: "Take a Bow" by Rihanna

My new favourite song I didn't like at first: "Mercy" by Duffy

The Bride 2008

S-P-O-N-T-A-N-E-O-U-S

Things have been so go-go-go, every-day-planned-to-the-minute lately that I've found myself really missing the chance to be spontaneous! So I fixed that tonight--with a pedicure that ended up evolving into dinner on my favourite patio, frozen yogurt and a walk down Main Street, including a wander by the film set of the Life Network made-for-TV Christmas movie they're shooting there (apparently starring Wendie Malick from "Just Shoot Me", who we saw hopping into the back of a minivan at the end of the night). So here's to being spontaneous, to hanging with friends when their shift gets cancelled (when does that ever happen?!), to having painted toes and enjoying the first warm summery night of the year. Here's to not being able to finish your dinner but still having room for dessert. Here's to bad inside jokes and junky Christmas decorations all over Main Street. Here's to smelling the lilacs and living in the delight of the moment, whatever it holds.

"To all the boys with whom I wanted to fall in love"

This monologue started out as an attempt to put together something for a mean girl role audition, and then just ended up taking on a life of its own. So here she is, a nameless character born from my imagination, trying to say things that you can't always put into words. Even after spending time writing her story, I'd still like to understand more, because--love her or hate her--she's just trying to make sense of it all, like the rest of us...


To all the boys
with whom I wanted to fall in love

Have I ever been in love? No. Why—why are you asking? Yeah, no, I’ve never been in love. Why, do you think that’s weird? Seriously, though… You know, I don’t care what you think. Whatever. Go ahead, think I’m strange. I don’t care. Whatever.

(She turns to walk away, then pauses, deciding if she has more to say or if the conversation is over. Then, in a split second decision, she turns back and dives right in.)

You know, I hate the term ‘falling in love’. It’s so overused these days. Like the teenage girls who say they’re in love with their boyfriends. I mean, what does anybody know about love in high school? Nothing. Absolutely nothing. You think you know it all, but you don’t. So you let your heart get broken, or at least you think it’s broken, and you let your whole world fall apart. It’s so not real life. It’s just… stupid. The girls chasing every pair of pants that passes by, trying to one up each other to get the attention of guys who don’t even care about them all that much. I mean, we all know these relationships won’t make it past Thanksgiving, if you’re lucky enough to even last that long. High school isn’t love. It’s just a bunch of people who spend too much time together. Things happen because they have to happen. That’s all it is.

I know what you’re thinking now: that I must have had one really screwed up relationship in high school, and that’s why I feel this way. No, seriously, it’s not that easy—I mean, it’s not that. You know what it is? It’s that somewhere along the way I figured out the truth about relationships: that deep down, every girl wants the guy to like her more than she likes him, at least at the start. So, somewhere between my high school diploma and my university degree, I decided that I would stop pursuing and wait to be pursued. Why love unless you’re loved first? So that’s the way it’s been since then, and that’s who I am.

There were guys. There are always guys. Just never the right ones. I thought some of them could be the right ones. I definitely crushed on a few. Sometimes I even let my mind wander and think about the future and what it might look like. I wanted an us. I wanted it to work. I wanted it to work so badly, but it never did.

At the time, you make all these excuses to try and explain it away. He’s just not looking for a girlfriend right now. He’s focused on school. He’s focused on his job. He doesn’t have time for a relationship. He’s still getting over somebody else. And then he starts dating some other girl, and you realize that it none of those excuses can cut it any more. It hurts, and it’s disappointing, and you wonder if things might have been different if you didn’t demand so much. But it’s too late. He’s on to something else and you have to move on. You promise yourself you’ll never do it again. But it happens inevitably. You just try not to care as much the next time, and the fall gets a little less hard and you cry a little less and you keep going.

I wonder if things would be different if I could let myself go a little more, let myself feel a little more honestly. The funny thing is that once you decide to shove down your feelings, you can’t really take it back. It’s like you become barricaded in a castle that was supposed to protect you, but instead of being protected you’re isolated. You’re hiding who you really are, who you really want to be. Sometimes you’re even trying to hide from yourself, because you don’t want to face how you’ve failed your ideals. It’s all about minimizing the damage, really.

You know, I’m tired of defending myself—to you and to everybody else. The truth is, though, in every failed could-have-been-a-relationship, no matter what excuses you try to fabricate, it all comes down to the truth that it just was never meant to be. If either of you had really wanted it, you probably would have gone after it, tried harder, thrown away all your inhibitions and said here I am, here I am, love me. Something held you back, and I think it was knowing deep down that it was never meant to happen. That’s the difference between love and like, love and lust, love and whatever else, I guess. Then again, don’t listen to me, I wouldn’t know. I’ve never been in love.

It was just never meant to be for me. Still, to all the guys I could have fallen in love with, I like to think that they missed out on a good thing, because I am a good thing. It could have been amazing, it could have been so much fun, but it wasn’t meant to be.

So, whatever. That’s the way it is. Love sucks. So, whatever. Whatever. Whatever.

"The Bride"

Every show I've done has been special and memorable in its own way, with something in particular that attracts me to it. My latest project--which has sent me backstage, as assistant stage manager, where my love of theatre began!--is Urban Promise's "The Bride". It's an incredible original play, full of meaning and allegory. This is the line that gets me, makes me shake my head in amazement and reminds me why I got into theatre in the first place:

JOSHUA: "Mike… I met this old guy on the bus today… it was so weird… we just started talking. So he’s been married for 46 years, and he said the most interesting thing about love… He said 'wait for the right one because a part of you always will.'"

How awesome--and true--is that?!

www.thebride2008.com

The soundtrack of my week

It's been a weird week. Tonight, I feel like a totally different person than I was on Monday. Maybe that's a good thing, maybe it's just a phase or maybe it's 12:30 am Krista talking. Anyway, enough pop psychoanalyzing. Going straight to the music...

I'm Alive
(Bonus points for the cheesy grin to the audience at the opening... I thought I was the only person who did that.)

Stuck in a Moment
(This song keeps reappearing in my life... brilliant.)

Sorry
(Something about the lyric gets me: "Because everything inside it never comes out right/And when I see you cry it makes me want to die/I'm sorry I'm bad, I'm sorry you're blue...")

Just fine
(My cruising song for this week--and my favourite catwalk for the fashion show next week!)

"I didn't know a CAT was singing it."

Tonight was Andrew Lloyd Webber night on Idol. My boy David Cook sang well but was admittedly a bit boring... so the show's best moment goes to Jason Castro. He chose to sing "Memories" and made me laugh out loud with his revelation in the opening video, "I didn't know a CAT was singing it." (Feel free to skip the ensuing performance. I wish I had.)

And with that, he won my heart

Well, not exactly my heart. More like my vote, IF I was American and I COULD vote.

Anyway, I think I'm going to start watching American Idol.

The Girl is Rock and Roll

After months of searching, I am now the happy owner of a Guitar Hero. I love it and it's become my escape from the current ridiculousness of my life. While I'm definitely nowhere near rock and roll yet, maybe with enough practice... maybe!

Well you're the real tough cookie with the long history
Of breaking little hearts, like the one in me
That's okay, lets see how you do it
Put up your dukes, lets get down to it

Hit me with your best shot
Why don't you hit me with your best shot
Hit me with your best shot
Fire away

You come on with a come on, you don't fight fair
But that's okay, see if I care
Knock me down, it's all in vain
I'll get right back on my feet again

Hit me with your best shot
Why don't you hit me with your best shot
Hit me with your best shot
Fire away

Well you're the real tough cookie with the long history
Of breaking little hearts, like the one in me
Before I put another notch in my lipstick case
You better make sure you put me in my place

Hit me with your best shot
Why don't you hit me with your best shot
Hit me with your best shot
Fire away
- Pat Benetar

Omigosh that's so, like, 2006

This picture of Avril Lavigne at the 2008 Juno awards made me laugh, because she isn't the first girl to randomly carry a wand to a special event. Because once, some whacked out girl somewhere was at Party Packagers and decided that her friend's party would be a whole lot more fun if the girls all carried wands around Dave and Busters that night...

Man, what a fun memory that's turned out to be! Yes, some things in life are so much more fun with a WAND at your side! I love that I have friends who just roll with the crazy ideas--and I think Avril could agree.

Six Words

Yesterday I came across the Toronto Star's "Six Word Memoirs" Contest--essentially a challenge to people to write their autobiography using just 6 words. What a random and totally cool concept! My favourite examples from their top picks: "Purple Mohawk teenager, now suburban mom", "I shouldn't have driven that night", and "Found loyalty and love despite myself".

So, of course, after finding the article I immediately asked myself what my six word memoir would be. The answer came to me almost right away: "The best is yet to come." Why? It's not that I'm disappointed with my life thus far (not by any means!) and it's not that I live in a state where I'm so desperate for the future that I can't enjoy the present. Living like "the best is yet to come" means that I have hope. It means that I can have vision, promise and an excitement about what God can do with my life. It means that I can love the present while keeping my eyes open for that next thing that I'm meant to pursue. So I live and love in the belief that the best is truly yet to come. Life may not be perfect, but it is a wonderful gift--and I want to celebrate that truth every day.

Enchanté

Tonight I don't have to sleep on curlers and I don't have to pack my Spanx. Tomorrow I won't have to race to the theatre and maybe I'll even have time to eat dinner--and I won't have to actually squash myself into the Spanx afterwards. But it's sad! Beauty and the Beast is over. It was a great show, a great run. Who can't love living in a fairy tale world, even if it's only for a couple of hours? I will miss the cast, I will miss the performing and I will miss the magic. There were enough tears tonight at the cast party that if we all became enchanted tonight I think everyone would turn into a bunch of fountains!

I've learned so much over the past six months. There are lessons I'll carry with me to other auditions, other productions and just life in general. Even better, I now can say I've done a show with my brother! Sharing the stage with him has been amazing. I really can't wait to do it again.

Bonne nuit!

I am the Ipod Girl

Some days I feel like the girl in the Ipod commercials--I always want to be moving, always want to be singing. So, for lack of anything else interesting to write tonight, I figured I'd slap up the faves on my current playlist:

Love Song
by Sara Bareilles. The chorus is so catchy and absolutely brilliant as far as I'm concerned.

I Don't Want to Be in Love
If you can manage to listen to this without getting up and moving, I am impressed by your self control but also think you're crazy. Put up your hands!

Good Life
Against my better judgment, I love Kanye West's beats. I can't vouch for his lyrics, but talk about catchy rhythm.

Sweet Escape
It's the one song that could consistently get me up in the mornings last summer. I love Gwen Stefani.

Anything Spice Girls
Enough said.

And, just because it's so tied to "Beauty and the Beast" warm ups, the Cupid Shuffle. To the right, to the right, to the right... and may you be retired come February 25.

Promises

Somebody said to me the other day, "don't doubt in the dark what God has shown you in the light." It's a great quote, but when you weren't even sure of God's will when you were in the light, it doesn't always seem relevant. So I went to church that Sunday night confused by all the details of my life. There are so many decisions to be made, so many details that keep me from making them and so many distractions that steal my focus. I sat there, praying that I'd be able to understand why my life felt so disjointed. That's when it came to me, in piercing clarity: I had to stop focusing on the things I don't know, and just rejoice in what I do know. I know that I have a God Who loves me and has a perfect plan for my life. I know He has given me people to support me. I know that I will find the strength and wisdom I need in Him, and direction will be given and decisions made in His time. That's enough! In fact, it's more than enough, far more than I could ever deserve and far more than I could even wish for.

Merry Christmas!

Expressions

There are a few commercials I love on TV right now: the WalMart one where the over-eager dad accidentally gifts the paper boy with his son's iPod, anything with Frank and Gordon the beavers and Gwen Stefani's HP commercial. I love the script of the last one in particular; I hear it and it's like it's me talking. After a year in which I discovered my insane need to fill my life with art and creativity, facing the realities of how I can make this happen and facing the reality that the creative life is a nonstop cycle of innovation and reinvention, this commercial expresses the Krista of 2007.

Sometimes it's so hard to find what it is I'm trying to say. People might think that you can turn creativity on and off, but it's not like that. It just kind of comes out, a mash up of all these things you collect in your mind. You never know when it's going to happen, but when it does, it's like magic. It's just that simple, and it's just that hard.

"This is Christmas"

Show weekend has come and gone... and I'm sitting here, still with too much adrenaline to sleep, reflecting on an amazing run. About 7000 people passed through the doors of the church this weekend, each with their own story, their own preconceived notions, their own expectations, their own secrets and their own fears--and for an hour and a half, we had their attention as we told stories and performed music that represents the truth of Christmas. It started with the traditions of Christmas, then on to the joy of Christmas, then the pain associated with Christmas and finally the hope and celebration of Christ. Being a part of the huge story is an incredible honour for me and I can only hope that each heart left touched in some way. I know mine has been changed.

Favourite moments off the top of my head: getting high fives from Joel backstage after performing "Alone"; freestyling at the office party; saving the conga line from being cut and hamming it up with each show; interacting with Hannah in "Forget your Worries"; dancing with Joel backstage to "King of Glory, King of Love"; curtain calling with Reg's Herod; "Nine Lessons of Carols" and any scene that involved my go go dress. I'm sure more favourite memories will emerge over the next few days, as the debriefing process continues.

And for now: Soli Deo Gloria.

"Chosen"

Last week, after Tuesday night rehersal, I pulled out a monologue I had started writing last year, sat down and finished it. This is the end result. I'm calling it "Chosen".

The angel called me Blessed, but I don’t feel that way right now.

I’ve been given an incredible gift. No other woman in the world will experience this. I’m pregnant with the child of God. I, out of all women, have been chosen to bring the Messiah into the world. Saying it out loud, I hardly can believe it, but it’s true. It sounds amazing, and it is incredible—but it isn’t easy.

I was an ordinary girl. My life wasn’t anything special, but I was happy. I was betrothed to Joseph, I loved him and he loved me and we were preparing for our life together. We had plans and dreams.

But, in one moment, everything changed. An angel came to me one day when I was alone. He said that I had found favour in God’s eyes, that God had chosen me to carry His child. I was terrified and confused, but the angel told me not to be afraid. He told me to rejoice, to celebrate, and to name the baby Jesus.

I said, “I am the handmaiden of the Lord; let it be as you have said.” Then the angel was gone, leaving me, but not leaving me alone.

In that moment, I did celebrate, and I sang, filled with joy at the honour bestowed upon me. Then I went to tell my family, my fiancé, and that’s when everything fell apart. Pregnant, immaculate conception, child of God? They didn’t believe me—still don’t believe me. My parents are upset and broken. Joseph is crushed. All the honour I had felt disappeared, and I am swarthed in shame. Purity has been replaced with the label of unfaithfulness.

I obeyed God, I accepted His calling—and I’ve ended up hurting the people I love the most. I didn’t know being chosen could be so painful. My parents look at me like they don’t even know me any more. They’re so hurt, so ashamed. They can’t look at me in the eye and they won’t believe me when I try to tell them what has happened. My heart bleeds, watching them hurt so much, with no way to convince them of the incredible truth.

Even harder is seeing the look of betrayal in Joseph’s eyes. I don’t think I’ll ever forget trying to tell him. I didn’t know what to expect when I went; I wondered if he, too, had been approached by an angel, if he knew and would understand me. Within a moment, though, I realized that had not happened. I watched as the range of emotions crossed his face, watched his realization that all of our dreams were shattered. It broke my heart. I was obeying God. Why did it have to hurt the people I loved so much? I had no choice but to walk away from Joseph, not sure if he would want to take me in his arms ever again.

And so here I am, lonely and desperate for someone to understand me, someone to trust me, to be able to rejoice with me. But I can’t have that, not right now. All I have is, well, God.

I feel sick all the time, like most pregnant women feel. I’m tired and I don’t know what to do. I guess the only thing I can do is wait—wait and trust. Wait as this child grows inside of me. Trust that God will either open the eyes and hearts of those around me, or that He’ll make a way for me to bear this on my own.

Well, completely not on my own. I’m not alone. I feel the baby inside of me move, and it reminds me that I have not been abandoned. Feeling life within me leaves me with a glimmer of hope, for despite all that has happened, deep down I know that I am truly honoured by God. I am blessed to have been chosen, no matter what the rest of the world believes. It’s strange; usually a child looks to his parents for love and protection, but here I am, feeling my child move within me and feeling safe within His presence. It’s like each kick is a promise, an assurance that He is God and that He is with me. And somehow, no matter how much rejection I must face, that promise is enough.

This Week

Some weeks seem especially filled with strange randomness, and this was one of those for me.

Some highlights:

- I woke up one morning to find 13 text messages on my phone.

- I walked around the office for an hour feeling hot in my new pants--only to discover the tags were still hanging off the back.

- The first thing my coworker said to me this morning was, "what's wrong with your hair?!" since it was exceptionally flat-ironed.

- I sat down and in a strange fit of inspiration wrote a monologue one night.

The best part of it? It's only Thursday. There is still a weekend of randomness to look forward to--and with one show, two rehersals and a Grey Cup party, I don't think it will disappoint.

The World is My Oyster

I have been thinking a lot about missed opportunities. I guess it's because I'm at a crossroads, a limbo I never expected between university and career, the time in my life when I thought I'd have it all figured out but turns out I absolutely don't. (Funny, but I have a sneaking suspicion that's never going to change!) On top of that, I've been pulling together a monologue for this year's Christmas show that talks a lot about missed opportunities and roads not taken, choices made and paths set. It leaves me wanting to hold to God tighter, keep my heart next to His to discern His will and live in fully the passions and talents that He has given me. I know absolutely that I don't want to miss out on His best.

I was thinking today if it is safe to pray that God will spare me from regrets. Are regrets just a part of life, a reality because we cannot experience everything, or can we expect God to protect us from them? Or can I simply pray that any regrets will pale in comparison next to Him? Or can regrets be a good thing, that draw our heart closer to Him in the future so we do not run off and keep doing our own thing?

In the meantime, I celebrate dreams and the God Who gives them. There is still so much to do, so much to experience, so much to lose but--and I truly believe it--even more to win.

Elphaba

Since one of my favourite musicals is "Wicked", the story that turns "The Wizard of Oz" on its head, I decided to dress up for my siblings when they arrived home tonight. These are a few of the less ridiculous shots. (Katrina is Glinda, the Good Witch of the North, Alex is Bart Simpson, and Jonathan is himself.) We're so cute, haha!

Free Cake Day

Today is apparently free cake day for me. It started when I picked up the phone at work to have a reporter say, "lover boy working for the weekend"? I was completely confused--and eventually it came out that Loverboy is an 80s band who sings the song "Working for the Weekend" and she wanted footage of them. I found it, complete with the the lead singer in his tight red pants and red headband. Not too much longer later, the reporter showed up with a piece of Dave Devall's birthday cake for me as a thank you! It was a sweet, hilarious gesture on her part. So random--and now I know about Loverboy (who knows when that knowledge could come in handy? Maybe in the Jeopardy category "Lost 80s bands"?).

Then tonight Alex and I stopped at Starbucks after our Beauty and the Beast rehersal and were given free coffee cakes along with our drink orders. Not a bad deal. It's not every day you get two free pieces of cake. So I enjoy and figure I have the rest of my life to count calories!

Thinking

Tony Campolo is, as far as I'm concerned, brilliant. Do I agree with him on everything? No, but I have the utmost respect for a man who turns my thinking upside down and pushes me back to the point of reevaluating how my beliefs manifest themselves in my life.

Case in point: his interview with George Stroumboulopoulos. Watch it.