That's how many times I've sat down at a computer and tried to write a blog entry over the last several months.  But every time I try to organize my thoughts enough to actually write them down, the mental strain exhausts me.  It's not that I'm overly feeble-minded (in spite of what some of you may think), but there's just too much happening.  My mind is in the middle of one ugly tug-of-war, with about a hundred ropes pulling in a hundred directions.

So I suppose I'll take the easy route and do a brief update, in the hopes that once everyone who cares enough to read this is up to speed, I can then focus my attention on writing more specific accounts of all things Jac.

I got married six months ago - actually, six months ago yesterday.  And these past six months, while not lacking in challenges and struggles, have been the happiest of my life.  People frequently ask me how married life is, and the best response I can think to offer is "normal".  Not that it's mundane, but it just feels right.  It feels, in some ways, like we've ALWAYS been married.  It took me a while to get used to sharing my bed with another person.  It took me a while to get used to seeing men's underwear while doing laundry.  It took me a while to really understand that we weren't just "playing house" for a while and then going back to our regular day-to-day lives.  But slowly, it sunk in that I am actually married to Francis - my best friend, and the most wonderful man I know.

So much else has happened since then - some of it wonderful, some of it ordinary, and some of it too ugly to bring to mind again.  Friends and family have gotten married and other friends have gotten pregnant and had babies.  Two dear friends dealt with huge personal and family struggles.  My boss, who is also my priest and a very dear friend, left.  Well, he left our parish officially (he's been replaced) but he still lives here for now, so I've had absolutely no chance of really coming to terms with his departure.  I'm still in denial.

Oh, here's another important update: Francis and I are NOT pregnant!  People keep asking us.  Often people who don't know us well enough to ask such a personal question.  There was even a rumor going around my hometown that I was pregnant at Christmas time.  Several family members were certain beyond a doubt that Francis and I would announce a pregnancy when we went to Halifax in December. (I have more to say about THAT particular fact in another entry...)  Now, when people ask us, our response is: "We hope to conceive at some point within the next year."

Francis will be finished his teaching degree in a few months, and then he'll begin the process of looking for work.  This may result in us having to move, which as exciting as that prospect is, it's really quite unsettling.  I feel at home here, and it will take me a while to adjust to living (and possibly working) somewhere else.  But we're leaving it in God's hands, trusting that the appropriate doors will be opened for us, and that He'll give us the strength and patience we need to adapt to whatever is coming next.

I think that's plenty long for this entry.  I know it doesn't make up for months of neglect, but I'll just have to work at it more diligently in the future.

When I was a kid, we'd be so anxious for Christmas to arrive, we'd constantly nag Mom to tell us how many more days.  Except we didn't really want to hear "Three more days, guys." Instead, we wanted to know how many "days after that" - like on the 22nd of December Mom would tell us, "Not tomorrow, not the day after that, but the day after THAT."  We could tell by how long the sentence went on, just how long we'd have to be patient for Santa to show up.

 

I'm getting married not tomorrow, not the day after that, but the day after THAT.  And I can tell by how long that sentence went on, how long I have to be patient for the big day to arrive, and also how much time I have left to get things done.  And now we're down to teeny, tiny details. 

 

A bridesmaid and an MC arrived in Hali last night.  This afternoon a local bridesmaid is coming over to help work on things, and of course the maid of honour's birthday is today.  The groom, his best man and a groomsman arrive later today after driving straight from O-town.  Today we approve the proof of the program at the printer, pay for the flowers, pay for the cake, talk to the caterer, and begin picking up guests at the airport.  Then we'll eat cake, because like I said earlier, it's the MOH's birthday.  :)  Mmmm... cake.

 

I've been counting down to this wedding for so long that it's hard to wrap my head around the fact I'm only a few days away.  Before long, my countdown will be measured in hours.  But my excitement continues to build, and I've yet to feel the slightest bit of stress since I've been home.  All I can do now is work hard, enjoy the company of my family and friends, try to spend some quality time with the man who is about to become my husband, and pray for good weather on Saturday!

Beci's wedding has come and gone.  She has a new husband, a new home and a new name.  Being at her wedding (especially being PART of it) was an honour and a privelege, and a whole lotta fun.  It was great to have our whole NET team reunited, it was great to FINALLY meet Paul, and it was wonderful to stay at the Dupuis house and spend time with such a beautiful family.

 

But throughout the course of my 3 days in Saskatoon, I kept thinking about my own upcoming wedding.  I tried not to.  I tried to just be a bridesmaid, and not also a bride-to-be.  But it didn't work.  I was making mental notes the whole weekend - things I need to remember, things I hadn't yet thought of, things that I'd like to include in my own wedding.  It made me very aware of how quickly July 29th is coming...

 

Now, it's only 25 days away.  My stress has subsided immensely.  I've got a million lists of things to do and things to remember, yet I'm confident they'll all get done.  Instead of feeling stress, I'm just excited beyond belief.  Part of me is really enjoying this time, but part of me just wishes I could fast-forward to July 22nd, when I fly back to Hali.

 

The only thing that concerns me now is people's enjoyment of my wedding.  I want everyone who's coming to have a great time.  I want the reception to be one helluva party.  I want our friends and family who are traveling from all over to remember their Nova Scotian experience fondly, and to really know the trip was worth it.

 

Well, that... and I want my skin to clear up. :)

I came into work today, after having just returned from a weekend in Halifax.  I decided to stop by the main office to say hello to the rest of the staff, and check my mailbox.  I was pleased to see a pretty blue envelope with my name on it, but immediately noticed the lack of return address.  I opened the envelope and saw a cute card with flowers on the front.  I wasn't able to read the card right away, because the office ladies had a thousand questions about the  progress of my wedding plans, but I glanced down at the card, and noticed it was signed simply "A Grandmother".

 

As the conversation shifted slightly, I was able to turn to the contents of the card.  Written in beautiful, well-formed cursive was a message that struck me like a dagger.  This woman, this grandmother, began by congratulating me on my engagement, yet then proceeded to tell me that I must be killing my parents and relatives by turning my back on how they raised me by marrying a Chinese man.  She went on to tell me that interracial relationships never work, and that I should quickly end it, and make my parents proud by marrying a white man.  And she didn't stop there - she wanted to know if I'd considered the fact that my sin (yes, she actually referred to my relationship as sinful) would have consequences for my children, who would have to bear the horror of being bi-racial.  The note was long - but I only read it once, and wasn't really able to absorb its contents.  I immediately disolved into tears (probably aggravated by only getting about 4.5 hours of sleep last night), and one of the women came over and hugged me while the other took the card and read it.  She was disgusted, and then passed it to the other woman (the hugger) to read.  She said, "This is hateful! You don't need this!" and marched over to the paper shredder where the note met a very appropriate fate.

 

I know this probably shouldn't upset me as much as it does.  I should have just laughed it off, and chalked it up to different views from a different generation.  And frankly, I'm not sure exactly why it brought up such an emotional reaction.  I think mostly it was the shock of someone going out of their way to mail me a card to share their narrow-minded, racist views.  And I was angry they didn't even have the nerve or the decency to sign their name, or supply a return address.

 

I know I need to let go of my anger and resentment towards this "grandmother".  I need to pray that God will soften her heart, and heal whatever has made her so unnecessarily angry.  And as sad as I am, at least I know she was wrong - I know my relationship with Francis is good and holy and beautiful.  And I know my relatives accept him and love him like a member of our family already.  And while my faith in humanity may be a little bruised right now, my faith in my love for Francis is not.

I know, I know... it's like I fell off the face of the blogger planet.  Minako pointed out some time ago that it was time for a new post, and while I agreed wholeheartedly, I lacked the time and the motivation to actually write anything.

 

But last night's events changed that. 

 

After a long day of wedding planning, Francis told me he had a surprise for me.  He got me into the car, and told me I had to keep my eyes closed the whole time we were driving - I assured him hedidn't need to whip out the blindfold.  When I was finally allowed to open my eyes, we were in the driveway at our friend Evan's house.  Evan's mother, who is also a dear friend, my "Ottawa Mom" and a co-worker, appeared by the car and said, "Evan's not quite ready for you, Francis.  Come on in, Jaclyn, I want to show you something while Evan's getting ready."  So I walked into the house, expecting a tour of her recently redecorated bedroom.  What I saw instead, was about 16 women from our church, sitting in the kitchen, who then turned and yelled, "SURPRISE!"

 

I was totally in shock.  Apparently I'm an easy person to surprise, because I had NO SWEET CLUE that they had planned a bridal shower for me. 

 

Anne ("Ottawa Mom") and Theresa, another woman I've grown very attached to during my time in Ottawa, and all the "church ladies" spoiled me (and Francis, too) rotten last night.  After playing several traditional shower games, and before eating the incredible spread of food, I opened countless gifts, each more generous and thoughtful than the one before.  Francis was overwhelmed when he saw the gifts at the end of the night when he picked me up - I told him, "You think that's overwhelming?! Imagine sitting there opening them, while everyone's watching!"  I was blown away that all these women were as excited as they were to come to a party to celebrate my upcoming wedding.

 

I was, above all, humbled.  I was by far the youngest woman there, and the only who was unmarried.  These women, these wives, these mothers, were glad to pass on their wisdom, share the stories of how they met and married their husbands, and encourage me in my wedding preparations.  Some of them dated their husbands for years before they married - one woman accepted her husband's proposal at the end of their first date (more than 35 years ago!).  hey represent literally hundreds of years of happy marriage, beautiful children, and holy families.  Some of these women I see all the time, and others I haven't spoken to in months.  Many of them I know very well, others are more like friendly acquaintances, and in the case of one woman, I didn't even know her first name until I opened the card and saw a name I didn't recognize!

 

I am so blessed to have each one of them in my life.  I value their love, their support, their prayers, and their examples of what it is to be a strong woman, a loving wife, a courageous mother, and a beautiful sister in Christ.

Francis and I began our marriage preparation course just over a week ago.  Since our busy schedules didn't allow us to take part in one of the publicly offered classes, the coordinators are giving us a private session.  The couple who is taking us through the program are friends of ours, and they are (for us) a wonderful model of where we'd like to be in 25 years.

 

The program involves getting us to talk about lots of issues that need to be addressed by every married couple.  The general idea behind the course is that psychologists and marriage counsellors have determined the main areas that cause conflict in married couples, and the hope is that in beginning to discuss these areas even before we're married, they might not jump out of the bushes and bite our faces off in a couple of years.

 

Most of the topics come as no surprise - we'll be discussing how to handle our combined finances, our hopes and expectations regarding sexual intimacy, problem-solving, decision-making, family of origin issues, etc.  No big shockers there.  I can easily see how any (or all) of those could become a problem for us, if not discussed.

 

But then there were a few things that came up that I hadn't really expected to cover in this course.  For instance: What is the right way to put socks away?  Francis said, "I don't think there's really a right way..." to which I responded, "Me neither.  As long as they're together in pairs, it doesn't matter how they're put away."  Riiiiight.  He said, "Well, they don't have to be paired up before you put them away."  So apparently we DO have different ideas about something as insignificant as how to put away socks.  Who knew?

 

I've heard several stories of newlyweds fighting about the way the toothpaste tube should be squeezed.  Or whether glasses should be put away right-side-up, or up-side-down.  There is a series of questions in our workbooks about Christmas preferences - fat Christmas tree, or Charlie Brown style?  Real or artificial?  White lights or coloured?  Turkey dinner or traditional ethnic food?  Big or small budget for gifts?

 

I know Francis and I are going to have our struggles.  I know it will be hard for me to be so far away from my family, especially once we have our own children.  I know our children will deal with some issues as a result of being bi-racial.  I'm sure money will always continue to come up.  There will be job stress, kid stress, family stress and life stress.  Hopefully, at least if we can agree on socks and Christmas trees, we'll have fewer things to worry about.  In the mean time, thank God for the Seaths and their patience in working with us!

I'm a Mazda RX-8!

You're sporty, yet practical, and you have a style of your own. You like to have fun, and you like to bring friends along for the ride, but when it comes time for everyday chores, you're willing to do your part.

Take the Which Sports Car Are You? quiz.

This Is My Life, Rated
Life:	9.1
Mind:	8.4
Body:	8.9
Spirit:	8
Friends/Family:	7.4
Love:	9.1
Finance:	7.5
Take the Rate My Life Quiz

We discovered yesterday, after picking Tracey up at the airport, that there is a strange phenomenon surrounding our dear friend JP.

 

There has been a recent wave of relationships (like a wave of babies, only different) among my extended circle of friends and acquaintances.  Some couples who have started serious relationships, but more specifically many couples who have gotten engaged.  And what do most of these people have in common?  JP deFleuriot, that's what.

 

Take a look:
Francis and me - Francis served on JP's first NET team, and I was on his second.

Tracey and Pat - Pat was on JP's first team, and Tracey was on his second. (Also note that this connection is the same as the one above.)

Lita and Dave - Lita was on his first AND third teams, and Dave was on his third.

Katie and Ben - Katie was on his first team.

Matt and Cameron - Both on his third team.

Liz and Des - Liz was on his first team.

Beci and Paul - Beci was on his second team.

Todd and Mireille - Todd was on his first team.

Dan and Miriam - Dan was on his third team, and Miriam supervised his first and third teams.

 

I'm sure if I spent more time thinking about it, I'd come up with even more.  I guess the moral of the story is: If you're looking for someone special, go hang out with JP for a while.

 

JP is in the seminary now, discerning the priesthood.  I know that whatever he choses, he will continue to be a man of prayer, peace, and playfulness.

 

 

So this thing is seemingly taking over the blogging world - or at least my corner of it.  Thank you Lani, for thinking of me... Riiiiight.

 

So here's how it works: The first player of this game started with the topic "Five Weird Habits of Yourself," and then tagged 5 people, who then had to write an entry about their five quirky little habits, as well as state the rules of this game clearly, and then list the next 5 people they wanted to tag. So first you read about my idiosyncratic behaviours, then I'll tag some more unsuspecting bloggers, and the fun continues.

 

1. I pick obsessively.  Mostly scabs.  I seriously can't let anything heal normally.  I still have fond memories of getting a scab on my forehead (courtesy of a bicycle accident) that was bigger in diameter than a toonie.  LOADS of good pickin' there!  Oh, and I pick zits too.  And at almost-27, you'd think I would be through with getting zits, but apparently not.  Ick.

 

2.  Like Minako, I can't keep my hands away from my nose.  I pinch/squeeze my nose at least 200 times a day.  I hate that it looks like the nose of a grown-up cabbage patch kid, so I squeeze it in an attempt to change its shape.  I'm hoping for less roundness, more elegance.

 

3.  I don't think I actually have OCD, but I have similar tendencies.  I need to check and recheck my alarm clock at least 10 times before I can fall asleep.  Also, though I've mostly out-grown it now, I've always had this need for everything to be even.  I have to chew with both sides of my mouth equally.  If I'm eating M&Ms, I have to eat two of the same colour at a time, or bite them in half if there are odd numbers.  If I step on a crack in the sidewalk with my left foot, I have to find another crack for my right foot to stomp on.

 

4.  I pluck my eyebrows at least twice a day.  No, they don't get completely saskwatch-ish that quickly, but in different light I see different hairs that need to be yanked.  I don't often put a lot of time into doing my hair, and I wear minimal amounts of make-up, but my little red tweezers have a place of great importance in my daily beauty routine.

 

5.  I daydream to put myself to sleep.  Believe me, if I ever win the 6-49 jackpot, I'm confident I'll know exactly how to spend the money - I've been over it several hundred times during a lifetime of frequent insomnia.  When I was younger, I frequently imagined myself walking through the mall, only to bump into someone who looked exactly like me.  What a way to discover I was actually a twin, who'd been separated from her sister at birth!  I was a strange child...

 

Alright.  Enough about me.  Now let's hear about somebody else's weird, embarrassing habits!  I'm gonna tag Francis, Jocelyn, Mark (of the Doyle variety), Cisco, and Jenna.  Enjoy!

Perfect Strangers was one of those TV shows that defined my early childhood.  Sure the theme song was cheesy, but who can resist a man who believes that "patience is a virgin", or that "Raisin Poofs without raisins are like Snow White without her seven dorks."

 

Let's learn a lesson from Balki, all those of us who are old enough to remember him and his crazy cousin Larry, that joy is meant to be expressed and shared...

 

 

 

 

 

 

I just finished taking a class in Catholic Apologetics as part of the lay formation program with the Companions of the Cross.  It was so good to be back in a "classroom" setting, listening to an amazing lecturer, taking notes, and exercising my brain.

 

 

 

 

 

I was leaving my house the other day, and as I went to get into my car, the construction guys across the street whistled, waved, and yelled a couple of comments at me.  They weren't particularly crude or offensive, but I was still a little offended.  And yet, I was also flattered.

 

Am I nuts?  My question to all the wonderful women who read my blog is this: Do you consider this sort of thing offensive, flattering, or both?  I mean it's nice to be noticed, but is it too much to ask to not be yelled at from across the street?

 

And hey, since there are guys who read this as well:  Do guys think that women like this?  Have you/would you ever yell at a strange women regarding her appearance?

I value my friends as highly as I value my family members - and for those of you who know me, you know that's saying a lot.

 

Most of my current friends are relatively new, since I've only been living in Ottawa a short time.  Yet that newness in no way makes those friends any less important to me than those I've known much longer.

 

I'm not always good at friendship.  Or maybe I should say I'm not always a good friend.  I'm often scared and selfish in friendships.  I could blame it on the rampant betrayal common in my junior high experience.  I could blame it on my self-worth issues.  Or I could just suck it up and admit that while I'm exceptionally good at a few things, and relatively good at many things, being a good friend is hard for me.

 

In my post "The Question of Love" I wrote about choosing to love.  That love is often a difficult decision to make.  I admit that my points were all valid, but I haven't been a great example of what I wrote about.  I need to work harder at that.

 

To all my friends: I sincerely hope that you know how much I love you and treasure our relationships.  Especially to those of you who have known me a long time (sisters by both blood and by choice - you know who you are) I hope that you know I wouldn't be where I am now (or who I am now) without your presence in my life over the years.  I owe you a huge debt of gratitude.  Thank you for support, prayers, encouragement, tears, laughs, hugs - thank you for your presence in my life.  Thank you for being who you are, and allowing me to enjoy your company and to learn from your wisdom.

In response to my last post, CTEmberley commented, "Can you explain the "choose to love" thing? What do you mean?"

 

I'm not talking about choosing to feel like you're in love with someone.  The choice to love is about deciding to act in a loving way towards someone, regardless of your feelings for them at that particular moment.

 

We live in a culture that feeds us the idea that romantic love is all about the romance, and less about the love.  Very often as couples grow older together, and the initial feelings of being in love wear off, they feel like the love is gone from their relationship.  What I'm suggesting is that love (even in a romantic relationship) is far more than just feelings.  Love, in this context is about commitment - and commitment is about choices.  You choose to be faithful to your boyfriend/girlfriend/spouse in spite of a strong physical attraction to another person.  You choose to be compassionate and patient when they're upset, even if it's getting on your nerves.  You choose to stay in your marriage, even when it seems the romance and excitement are waning.

 

I don't feel like my thoughts on this subject are particularly organized right now - I really wish I'd written this entry yesterday.  As I was praying before Mass I found myself reflecting on what a poverty it is that the English language uses the word love to describe a variety of different feelings (or choices) and makes no verbal distinction.  Why should I use the same word to describe how I feel about my mother, my God, my friends, my hobbies, my boyfriend and my favourite food?  Yes, I love chocolate.  But is how I feel about Lindor truffles even remotely similar to the way I feel about my parents?

 

I suppose that the question of choosing to love is less philosophical than grammatical.  I think that limitations in discussing this are not because of different understandings of what true love demands of us, but rather different understandings of the many meanings of a single word.

 

Etymology: Middle English, from Old English lufu; akin to Old High German luba love, Old English lEof dear, Latin lubEre, libEre to please
1 a (1) : strong affection for another arising out of kinship or personal ties <maternal love for a child> (2) : attraction based on sexual desire : affection and tenderness felt by lovers (3) : affection based on admiration, benevolence, or common interests <love for his old schoolmates> b : an assurance of love <give her my love>
2 : warm attachment, enthusiasm, or devotion <love of the sea>
3 a : the object of attachment, devotion, or admiration <baseball was his first love> b (1) : a beloved person : DARLING -- often used as a term of endearment (2) British -- used as an informal term of address
4 a : unselfish loyal and benevolent concern for the good of another: as (1) : the fatherly concern of God for humankind (2) : brotherly concern for others b : a person's adoration of God
5 : a god or personification of love
6 : an amorous episode : LOVE AFFAIR
7 : the sexual embrace : COPULATION
8 : a score of zero (as in tennis)
9 capitalized, Christian Science : GOD
- at love : holding one's opponent scoreless in tennis
- in love : inspired by affection

Last weekend, Naomi hosted a party to celebrate her parents' 25th wedding anniversary.  In a time when so many marriages end in divorce, it was wonderful to behold not only the Barretts, but so many other happily married couples in the room.  I think I was the most struck by the Seaths.  A slow song came on, and I found myself smiling while watching them dancing, obviously enjoying each other's company.  I think I noticed them since they remind me most of my own parents, and represent for me where I hope to be after 25 years of marriage. 

 

I hope to be in a committed relationship that is always joyful, regardless of whether it's happy or not.  I know there will be countless struggles ahead in