I became a big sister.  Eleven months, numerous meetings, an exhaustive three hr. long personal history screening interview, two training seminars and it finally happened.  It had always been on my 101 list, had been on my life list even before that.  As a person who so wholeheartedly believes in karma I always knew I’d never done as much as I could to put my best out into the world.  I felt like I’d been in that weird medium of becoming a grown up long enough to finally start putting action to all of my grand dreams.

So one muggy June afternoon last year I signed my name and started the process with BBBS.  June 9^th 2010 it became official, C and I met, hit it off and have been baking, walking, talking and scrapbooking our way to getting to know one another.  It’s been, in a word, enlightening.  A word I feel that usually brings up cheesy romantic notions or even religious connotations at times, but for me is the only word I have to grasp at how these past couple weeks have felt. 

I often forget that there’s always something new to learn about yourself, and that in seeing C, where she is, the life she’s lead so far, the life she’s yet to lead, there is so much more out there.  I know the downfall I had at thirteen was that I could never escape the tragedy of my own circumstances.  I was too clouded with hurt and anger and sadness to see the possibility of what could be.  That one day I would be okay, one day I would be better than okay.  One day I would be happy. 

I hope if I give anything to her, it’s the brilliant hope of a happier tomorrow, one where anything you work hard enough for can be accomplished and anything that makes you happy can be a reality.  From pink kitchen walls to dodgeball playoffs to standing in a new ocean.  It’s all possible.

ps. forgive me for the similar shoes. i figured i needed more arsenal than normal for a day of calaway park. that arsenal came int he form of my nikes.

Today has been the most relaxing day I’ve had in a while.  Spent cuddled and huddled next to my Aunt in my pajamas watching movies all day.  I love days like today.  Love, love, love.  I got home last night from Medicine Hat, but I’ll write a post about that later once I’ve got some pictures downloaded.  It involves an epic car ride and two of us cousins jammed in my Hyundai music blaring.

I know I’m cutting it close on time, but I’m just so glad that I’ve been able to so far this month keep up coming on here and jotting something down, even if it’s a little.  I’ve got some pictures hanging around from the opening July long weekend out at Pine Lake, they put on a spectacular fireworks show, the first we’d ever seen from my Uncle’s new boat.

Oh, and my title is a reference to the soundtrack from Slumdog Millionaire, the movie I’ve had going for the past couple hours while cleaning my room.  It’s a repeater.  Beautiful, wonderful, and no matter how many times I watch it I always end up with tears.  If you haven’t seen it, hit up a blockbuster, even better hit up an HMV and purchase it for multiple viewing enjoyment!

So I pre-wrote a blog for this morning, but my internet connection is extreme dodge-time, so I can’t load my email where it’s saved.  Though, I’m not going to complain cause internet is internet, and I very much appreciate my Grandma’s 69 year old neighbour having an un-encrypted network!

Today I’m off to shoot a wedding with Jenn Galloway, I’ll write more about her awesomeness tomorrow when this connection firms up, or when I have a chance to hit a Starbucks, hope everyone is having a fantastic long weekend, I know I am, Medicine Hats forecast for today is +35 dear God let my anti-perspirant work over time!

Everyone has a code, some are easier to read than others.  I’d like to think I’m a pretty open-ended gal, easy to read, nearly all of the time.  Knowing me, means knowing that after time, my tenuous moods, aren’t so tenuous, but rather boringly predictable. 

• When I’m sad I watch White Christmas (Bing Crosby cures all)
• When I’m anxious I scrapbook (Two-way tape cures all)
• When I’m stressed I take a bubble bath (Radox Muscle Soak cures all)
• When I’m mad, I write letters (Merriam Webster Thesauraus cures all)
• When I’m happy, I say so (Honesty cures all)

And then, there’s one thing I do throughout it all, when I’m happy it makes me giddier, when I’m sad it cheers me up, when I’m anxious it calms me down, when I’m mad, well usually I just measure things wrong and something turns out wonky, but Damn if I don’t feel less like Cruella Devill and more like Martha Stewart (Pre-jail era) once I’m done. 

Baking. 

I know, I know, it’s a bit dorky, but I just love getting my bake on.  Wow, I could’ve made a comeback before that last sentence, but now I think I’m a real goner.  A goner with sugar cookies mind you.  I’m feeling extraordinarily rambly today in case you can’t tell… I love to bake, any excuse and I’m all over it.  Usually every couple weeks or so I’ll bring in cookies, tarts or  brownies for all the men at my work but every so often we have a birthday and I like to go all out.  

Betty Crocker mixes begone, I stood Monday night in +24 kitchen (Unusually hot for Calgary this time of year) switching my oven on to 350.  Good god in heave, that Amanda didn’t kill me and actually helped me with her artistry skills in cutting parchment paper was a miracle on 34st.  So pulling out all stops for one of my favorites at the shop I brought out the 12 layer cake recipe.  Yes, I just said 12 layers.  12.  Layers.  Actually here’s the part where I fess up and admit that I left two layers off accidentally and they actually are still sitting outside ‘cooling’ on top of the BBQ.  (Camille code: I AM THE MOST FORGETFUL PERSON EVER!)

This time I actually remembered to get my camera for pictures of my kitchen debacle:

I’m a bit of a, shall we say, all-over-the-place baker…

I had an intense measuring system for making sure each baked cake would be the same amount of batter….I later showered to find beige batter in places beige batter ought not to go.

Almost done, this looks like an ad for Denny’s Pancakes, with a potentially diabetic coma inducing amount of syrup draped over them.

Excuse our mess of a fridge, and by our mess, I mean mostly my mess, because, well, look at that first picture.  I’m kind of an all-over-the-place kind of person.

Look! Dishes!  I can be helpful some of the time!

She’s Morgan.  My best friend forever.  The one I’ll probably grow old beside, and argue over prune juice and wheel of fortune.  To know her, is to love her, and that’s really all there is to say.  No fancy thesauraus terms, just love.  The kind that lasts forever, and through anything, the kind that lots of people don’t find in their entire lives.  Sometimes, when the wind blows softly I can’t help but thank whatever force of nature brought Morgan into my life, gratefulness whispered off chapped lips time and time again.

Thank you for loving me despite the fact that I cut cheese crooked, talk too loudly, and swear a bit too much.  Thank you for holding our childhood sentiments faithfully in your hands, for never forgetting Colby Moments or that time Mack fell in that pond, for the Chandler List and always thinking Jason and Liz should be together.  For the times when you remind me my Mum would be proud of me, that compliment from you means more than I could describe in this decade.

Thank you for it all.

I am going to blog for a month. No more bullshit excuses. Sorry children for the vulgarity out there, but it had to be said.

It’s been on my 101 Life List and it’s something that I could so easily accomplish, well, more easily accomplish say versus swimming in the Dead Sea or being able to do 20 Push-ups in a row (Not the girl kind). So this is the month I set off to do it. I’m really going to try to shove more of me into this blog, as much as it has things I’ve wrote, pictures I’ve taken, feelings I’ve felt, I still feel like I’ve held a bit of myself back. Small parts of me, like for starters, that I’m someone who says bullshit. Yes Internet world, I’m not perfect, and in reality I’m a little rough around the edges, but hey, so are most people.

Why I picked September? Well, because it’s the best month of all of course. Not that I’m biased with a birthday in exactly four weeks I’ve got so much going on, my calendar is literally busting its threads with excitement, Elizabeth and Ryan’s wedding, Medicine Hat second shooting, my impromptu road trip through Utah to the ever wonderful Jessica Claire workshop and back around for turning twenty-three. Here’s to a September filled with blog posts and happyness.

And because posts without pictures suck, here’s a peak from the Kings of Leon concert last month.  Anyone who doesn’t own Only By The Night, go buy it, right now, like five minutes ago right now.  Note: I may or may not have attempted a zoolander panty removal in an attempt to slingshot my one true love Caleb Followill.  Too much too soon blog?  Sorry, I’ll ease into it next time