One Really Long Weekend And Post

It all started on Wednesday night: After the NBI thing (which I didn't really enjoy, not in the right mood I guess), Robin and I took off to Andrew's, only to find he and Carrie were gone but would be back soon. So we waited there, in his house, alone. It was kinda funny actually. Then they came and Robin's mom freaked out on MSN and we were all scared that she was gonna come over and have a harry coniption. She didn't, but Carrie called her and most likely didn't help things out much. So, they danced a bit and then Carrie left. Andrew made us Itchi-ban noodles, which were good, and sang to us while we ate. My tummy was real jibbly, but I didn't really pay attention to it. Robin and he danced some more and then he drove us home. I sat around, on the computer (of course), and then mom went to bed. I followed soon after, or so I thought. While I was still upstairs with an even jibblier tummy, I saw and tasted my noodles again. Yuck! I haven't puked in forever, it was not an experience I want to repeat. So I took some drugs and went downstairs. I wrote a poem (below) and made many trips to the bathroom. I tried sleeping and failed miserably. So I watched some movies which I can't remember right now. At about 5am, I decided that my tummy was stable enough to try and sleep again, or in my case, finally. So I went to bed, got nice and warm and then cold and warm again (good ol' flu) and closed my eyes. Next thing I knew it was time to get up.
Thankfully I didn't have to work and slept in a little bit. We were leaving for Calgary and J&D told mom and I to be ready for "a bit after lunch". So we waited. And waited. I was too shaky and jibbly to bother with a shower, even though I felt real sickly. After a couple hours I said, "Man I could've taken like three showers by now!" Of course, they took long as always. When they finally came (2pmish) we packed up the van and were off. The boys were fighting and crying before we even got on to the highway and it all went downhill from there. By the time we got to St. Walburg, we had a blown-out tire. So we sat there for a bit while Dwayne looked around for a cheap spare and changed it. Phil called saying dad had cancelled their hotel room and told them they were staying at Aunty Kathy's. Boy, did that set tempers off! Good times. Dwayne called the hotel and found out it hadn't actually happened, that dad was just being a jerk. Or himself I guess. So we drove to Lloyd and Dwayne got better tires so we didn't have to drive 90 the whole way. We went to "the Walmart" and I got new shoes since I didn't think it would be appropriate to wear sneakers to another funeral. We went to Tim Horton's and took forever and a day because they're stupid and should probably be shot...in the big toe. By the time we left Lloyd it was nearly 8pm. Yup. 6 hours from Meadow to Lloyd. Yay.
After that things were much smoother. The boys and I (including Dwayne) watched most of Narnia. It was funny because Dwayne kept putting his arm around me to bug Jenn. We finally got to Calgary after midnight and mom and I stayed with J&D so we didn't have to wake people up at Kathy's. That was...fun?...no. After we all got settled down, apparently mom sounded like a goose with a sinus infection. All but Jenn slept through it. And at 3-3:30 I had a lovely coughing fit. I got an extra pillow out of it, so I can't complain much, especially since I didn't know I was coughing in real life until mom told me to get a drink. I was having quite a good dream through it all too. Oh well. So then we got up, showered (YAY) and went to Kathy's. And thus began the awkward third-wheelness. Its great when you haven't seen your family for over a year and yet you still feel like an outsider. We got the tour of their massive house and I went with dad and Carlos (cousin-in-law) to pick Phil & Lexi up at the airport. I was so happy to see them! (I have to be nice cuz I know you're reading this haha). We went back to the house, after I made sure I could stay at the hotel with them so I wouldn't have to be at Kathy's or a frickin bed & breakfast. We visited upstairs and then got kicked down to Grammie's suite so Tes could clean. Yeah, that was weird, sitting in a room that my Gramma had just died in three days ago. Creepy McCreeperson I tell you what. We worked on flower arrangements and butterfly stick thingy's. That was at least a little bit fun. We went back to the hotel to change for supper and then when to this Chinese restaraunt. Personally, I didn't like it at all. It was just the start of more Dethmer/Metz seclusion. Fun times. We went back to Kathy's to "visit" and work on the picture board. Well Jenn & Lexi worked on it mostly. And they did a really good job. Finishing at midnight and heading back to the hotel was good. No more being ignored for now at least.
I must say, sleeping in Phil & Lexi's room was...interesting. There were times I wished for earmuffs. And blindness. Haha. It was good though overall. We all spent a lot of time talking about how sick my cousins, Arthur & Heather were. They're brother and sister about 5 years apart. Yet, if you didn't know them, you'd think they were almost married! It was really gross. You could say they were very "fondle" of each other. *barf* The worst part was he had his girlfriend with him the entire time!
Okay, wake up, get dressed, do your hair, eat breakfast, go to the church an hour before the funeral starts, sit in a back room basically by yourselves (the Metz siblings anyways), and make fun of your family. Check. Listen to an old geizer pray for ten minutes before we are "processioned" into the sanctuary which is filled with old people you've never met. Check. Sit in a freezing room and listen to the old geizer talk about your Grampa more than about your Gramma. Check. Come on! He's been dead a year, lets focus on the most recent one already! Blast! Listen to your cousins and Aunty & Uncle talk/cry for a freakin hour nearly. Check. Get up and forcibly read the poem you wrote. Check. By the way, no tears were shed, only silent anger at the stupidity of this whole service. More people talk, sing, pray forever and a day. Miss Rob and Robin. Freeze some more. Nearly fall asleep. Check. Hear the old guy talk about food and nearly run for the aforementioned. Listen to him pray. Yet again. Check. Processionalize out, while passing the old people who are looking at you funny because you're not crying. Check. Stand around with family, when you really want to attack the food. Listen to half a dozen "Oh your poem was so beautiful, did you write it yourself? It was so meaningful, you really have a gift, I know she would be proud of you. Yadda yadda yadda." Check. Oh, Nicky, you're hungry, here let me help you get some food! Finally! Get some food, sit in a circle with your immediate family, ignored, yet stared at by the old'uns. Check. Become the mother of three with one comment. Check. Feel awkward, leave the kids by themselves. Check. Eat some more, not because you're an emotional eater, but because you just sat through a two and a half hour funeral that was really even about your Grammie at all. Check. Get grossed out by your cousins, condolencedized by more old people. Drop "suttle" hints that its time to get outta here. Check. Finally leave the church. Hallelujah!
Yeah, that was a fun morning-afternoon. Not. Seriously, one of the most impersonal, angering funerals I've ever been to. We head back to the hotel and sleep for about half hour. Get loaded into the van again and go to the Mausoleum for yet another service thing. Put the box in a glass wall filled with other boxes. Take some family pictures because its always a photo shoot with my family. Look around, "chit chat", and go back to the hotel. Jenn tells me to be ready in an hour to go to Kathy's for supper. Okay. Go back to room and visit with Tim & P&L. I hear the Voth's in the hall and think they're coming to get me. After awhile, I no longer hear them and go looking at T&C's for them. "Are they here?" "No they just left." Great. So, I rush down the stairs and look in vain for their van. Gone. Excellent. I have to intrude on T&C and P&L's supper plans. We drive around looking for a restaruant, on the right side of the road, and end up at BP's; even though Nicky "just wanted to go to Hooters!" hahahahaha. Its not about owls, Nick. We get seated and order and wait. And wait. Nick & Tim go to the bathroom and I take Shanna as they're getting back. What I missed was Nick getting hip-checked into the corner of a wall by a waitress. I miss all the good stuff. We get back to Nicky laying his head on a bag of ice in Phil's sweater. The story is told and we wait for our food. Apparently the cooks were fighting, "sorry for the wait, the manager is trying to work things out." Great. Our food comes, cold and we eat. Nick's pepperoni was bad and I felt sick from my pizza. After an hour forty five since arrival we finish up and head to Kathy's. Nick's meal was free, and they had the audacity to wonder why Tim didn't leave a tip! DUH! You concussed my nephew! We walk in and see the Dethmers sitting at one table and the Metz's at another in two different rooms. Cuz that really makes you want to eat supper with them hey? I'd take crappy service BP's any day. Oh, and Arthur and Heather cuddling on the couch with her seperating Arthur and his girlfriend. That'll make you want to keep your meal down. Again, not. We sit around and "visit" again. Say goodbye to some people, sit around some more. Then, Heather sits on my dad's lap. GROSS! You're 22 for Peter Paul and Mary's sake! Grow up a bit. *barf again* Finally we head back to the hotel after "it was so good to see you's" and real hearfelt hugs...haha I'm funny. Yay! Sleep! Not remembering that the time has changed for them, I set my alarm for 7:15 so I can be ready to leave a bit after 8. I get dressed and lay back down to wait for Tim & Clare. Oops you fell asleep and its now 8:30! Jump out of bed and open the door to see T&C in the hallway. They had tried to get breakfast an hour ago, also forgetting about the time change. So we all head down and eat some foods. More goodbyes, this time real and heartfelt (seriously). I go with T&C back home.
It was quite enjoyable, everytime I woke up we were somewhere new. I had no idea where we were since we went the Drumheller way to get to Osler where their van was (used a rental). I could've gone pee in Nickleback's hometown, but decided to hold it (bad idea). We order food at the A&W Express and head out. I slept some more and read a bit. We drove through Rosetown and I remembered "Ax of Murder" dramafest. Then on to the Osler Gramma and Grampa's house for supper. That was fun, Clare and I got to vent to Frank & Mary about my weird and annoying family. We left and went to NB and got donuts at Tim's and drove home.
So here I am, venting to you guys. I have to work in less than 9 hours. Yay, so not looking forward to it. I feel like this month has been a waste where work is concerned. I missed a day for one funeral, called in sick once and took bereavment (sp?) leave for 3 more days for another funeral. Last week I only worked one day, which of course had to be the day my Gramma died while I was there. Both people died while I was at work, or I found out about them there anyways. Such good memory making times. People dying, babies pooping on me, eating hairy buffalo meat. Yeah, this month sucked. Hardcore. But I did get to hang out with Robin and Nicole, Lana, Jen Fry and Eryn Cockrum. Dang it I miss you Rob.
On top of it all, when we were in Lloyd, I realized that I had forgotten my anti-depressants at home. Whoohoo, sure to be an emotional weekend I thought, but it really wasn't, except for anger and annoyance. I'm going to sleep now hopefully. Good night.

The Lighthouse And The Butterfly

There was once a lighthouse and a butterfly.

He brought shelter in a storm,

and she gave beauty to a rocky landscape.

As they grew together; his light spreading across the vast waters,

the butterfly decided it was time to spread her wings.

She travelled far and saw many beautiful things,

but always longed for the company of the lighthouse.

A great storm came, one that the lighthouse could not battle.

The butterfly sensed that something was wrong and tried to get back.

She tried to find her beloved friend, but it would seem

that he had gone where she could not follow.

Saddened, the butterfly stayed close to the rock upon which the lighthouse once stood.

One night she had a dream,

she was with her lighthouse again, warmed and protected by his light.

She awoke and found her dream had come true.

The lighthouse saw her and its light shone bright around her.

They were together once more, but were not forgotten.

His light saved many and her beauty brightened countless lives.

They were where no storms could reach them,

together forever, where no more pain could come.

In loving memory of Katherine Vaughn Metz
March 28, 1925 - October 24, 2006

and Arthur Hamilton Metz

October 11, 1917 - September 17, 2005

This Well Is Running Dry

This well is running dry
One after another they reach in
Expecting the same refreshing
That came so easily before

It takes more effort than it should
To quench a thirsty traveller
A task once simple to fulfill
Now causes strain on the rope & pullies

The water has become farther away
Gone is the daily renewal
Forgotten are the times of renewing
The water's healing is nearly only a legend

Each lowering of the bucket
Brings the imminent dryness closer still
Perhaps it will be made in to a wishing well
Rocks filling up the bottom
Chipping away at the parched walls

The water itself is beginning to lose its quality
Becoming muddied and silty
Still the travellers come and drink
Hoping for more of its enlightenment

This well is running dry
Water is scarce and the rope is frayed
The next draw of the bucket takes effort
The expectant drinkers watch in disappointment
Nothing comes out

Finally catching up.

Oh where to begin? Let's back up to...last week I guess. I went on an extreme emotional rollercoaster in the timespace of about two days. On Wednesday, I was on my lunch break and sitting by myself when I realized that it was my Grampa's birthday. Or, at least it would've been, but he's been dead for over a year. That bummed me out. Then, after work I went to aerobic kick boxing with Nicole and Eryn and then swimming with them, Lana and Jen Fry. My endorphins were so through the roof. Other than the screaming pain in my quads and abs from being out of shape, I was in a great mood. We all, except Jen, slept over at Eryn's. It was real good times. I got up real early to get to work and had a pretty normal day. All was going well until Tiff called Diny at work. I was holding/just finished feeding baby Jordan and didn't tune in to the convo until Diny said, "Oh no, she did?" I looked up and she said, "Shantelle died this morning. Needless to say, I got up and held on to Diny for support as I cried, still holding Jordan, who was laughing at my tears. After talking with Diny for a bit, I went on a 15 min break. I went to the Door to talk to my mom and see if she knew. I walked around the corner and saw Jennifer walking away. I told mom to call her, cause I could hardly talk, and she turned around and we walked to each other and cried together. Apparently, Chester had come to the Door around 2:30, by now it was about 3:15 or so, and told people about Shantelle. My mom didn't want me to know, because she knew it would finish my day. I cried for a bit, then had to go back to work. I think I just pushed it aside, it hadn't really sunk in yet. I went home, had supper, looked at her blog, and went to Jr Youth. That was hard. I was so out of it and really didn't want to deal with loud bratty kids. (And yet I work in a daycare). So that was my weird week/couple days. I was really sad, really REALLY happy, and then really really sad again.

That was Thursday, I had to figure out a way to get to S'toon for Shantelle's Funeral on Monday. Jenn & Dwayne said I could go with them. So I did. It was a really nice funeral. I didn't plan on crying, I put make-up on to ensure this, but it didn't work out. I bawled. There were moments when I wanted to hold Darren's hand (I was sitting next to him), but I got through it alone.

I'm sure there was more I wanted to write about, but in the process and procrastination/busy life, I've forgotten it. Oh yeah, yesterday I fainted at the hospital after getting TB testing. I didn't faint because of the needle, but because I had waited too long between meals. Plus my cold/flu added to it all I'm sure. When I got back to work I was playing with the kids and had two on my lap in a chair. One got down, and wanted to get up again. She really stunk, and she had just pooped. What I didn't realize right away was that I was her target. And she hit her mark. I got pooped on. Sick! I felt really gross for the rest of my shift. But then I went to youth group and watched Ernest Saves Christmas (funny times) and found a letter from Dione in my box. I would've cried, but had to go back up. Meh, its ok. I still felt the emotions. Thanks Dione, it meant a lot and I really needed to hear those words at that moment. Anyways, I need to do laundry and sleep. And check other internet stuff. Like my Myspace...haha I got suckered in to it. Check it out! www.myspace.com/froanna so original eh?

PS One of my favorite parts of the S'toon trip was on Sunday night when we were all in bed at the hotel and said good night. We (Jenn, Dwayne and I) all said, "Goodnight _____ I love you". And for once I knew that we all really meant it. I know we don't say I love you a lot in my family, but it is nice to hear it once in awhile. So family: I love you! and Good night.

I Give Up On Titles...

I'm at a place again where I want to write, but don't know what to write. Of course, every time I say this, I end up writing a very long, confusing, muddled, non-corelating blog. I feel empty. I long for love, happiness, and peace, to name a few. I want marriage and a family of my own. One that hasn't been tainted by hatred. I want my own little fairy-tale. I mean, really, what girl wouldn't love having her own castle? (the Prince Charming doesn't hurt either). I've got to stop reading historical romance books. Its most likely not helping. But really, are love and family the desires of my heart? Are they the deepest? God I wish you would show me. When does an interest become an addiction? When do fear-filled daydreams become prophetic? I most likely have more non-sensical wonderings to spout about, but I have to get up for work tomorrow.

Babies cry. A lot. And they drool. I feel sticky. I might have to shower daily (oh no! haha).

Ok, I know I really shouldn't make a big deal about this, but its starting to bug me. Turkey day is one of the few holidays that hasn't died/sucked for me thus far. Will there be turkey for me? No. We get ham. Yay. I know I should be grateful that I actually have the privilege of choosing between ham or turkey and that I even get anything at all to eat. It just sucks because I was really looking forward to turkey, potatoes and gravy, stuffing and some delicious pumpkin pie. I guess it wouldn't really make sense for my mom to buy a turkey for three people. We'd have left-overs for weeks (although we always do anyways). Gahhhhhhh. I just want to go back to my childhood where everything was normal and special and turkey-filled. haha.

In other news, if you haven't already heard, I quit at Bean There. There was way too much shifty buisness and stress for me. It was a really good job and I had fun while it lasted, but I'm glad and at peace that its over. I'll be starting at Tiny Treasures day care at the Hope Center. I'm so excited! I spent a couple hours there on Monday with the babies and my heart was captured. They're so cute! and quite easy to handle. Maybe they were having a good day, but I'm sure there'll be good and bad days in the future. I love the fact that I'll be the fourth Metz to work at the Door. I get to see mom and Tim & Clare everyday, plus Nicky and Shanna are in the daycare, so of course, I'll see them a lot. I can't believe how homesick I got working at Bean There. I hardly ever saw any family except on weekends and the half hour or so it took for mom or dad to pick me up.

What am I gonna do when I leave? I still lived in the same house as them, just never saw them. I'm gonna be across a huge ocean and couple continents! I know that this is where God wants me to be, but can't help wondering if I'm going at the right time. I sometimes doubt my motives when I've had a fight with dad and say that I can't wait to leave. Am I usuing Jerusalem as another escape? Most likely, but it was also a calling before it was an escape.

Ok, what the crap is going on with me lately? I can never seem to get filled up! Its beginning to worry me a bit. I'm always hungry and am not eating really bad junk food when I get hungry. This is good, but then why isn't the moderately healthy stuff filling me? And I don't think its the flu, because its staying down and in normally. I seriously don't want to deal with thoughts of anorexia again, but all this eating is making me gain weight which in turn is making me hate myself. I almost cried today when Gayce called me "absolutely beautiful". She told me to start believing it, but I'm glad that she also understands how hard that can be. I just wish that I wasn't so freakin messed up all the time. If its not one thing, its ten other different things. Honestly, I'd like to be able to look back on my life and say, "I was really healthy at this point." Mom says the hungriness is probably from inactivity, but really, I've only been "inactive" for two days now. And this has been going on way longer. Effin hormones suck. Its annoying, I'll eat, feel satisfied, stop, and half an hour later need to eat again. And I was doing so well with my weightloss. Maybe when I'm running after small children all day I'll get back to normal.

Anyways, enough complaining. I am thankful for creative expression, family, friends, and freedom.

Ah sweet depression, my ever present comforter-controller. We are but on the eve of our fifth year since you were brought into existence. Or perhaps it was just acknowlegement and you were here with me all along. What shall I cover you up with next? Insistent planning of an ever-nearing future? I've used up all excuses to splurge my "hard-earned savings". Although I'm sure I could always think of more.

And what have you brought along with you? It seems to me as though misery, deception and failure are never far from your side. I wallow in my self pity, only to be angry at myself for not cheering up. This in turn causes more self pity, knowing that I'm ungrateful and will never be good enough to love because I, myself, do not love. Ironically, its myself I do not love. I decieve myself, trying to be thinner, quieter, louder, less "curvy", tanner, less of myself. Deception is a recipe for failure, for everyone knows that if you decieve yourself, you'll only fail at impossible, most-likely imagined, unrealistic goals. Thus, the cycle of depression begins again, stronger, if not moreso, than the last round.

And so, here I sit, after a personal photo-shoot. One that I began to capture my true self in the moment. One that I left, only after editing and "perfecting" every picture that I deemed "worthy". Who sets these standards? One could always blame the media. Or the age old "all bad things are a result of sin". But do/are we do(ing) anything about it? Once again I'm moving from subject to subject, not connecting them enough to make sense to anyone other than myself. But then again, isn't that what it's all about? Our personal struggle and accomplishments through this mess we call life? And does anyone ever find the meaning of life; before the life they were trying to fill with meaningfulness is over and forgotten?

For fear of becoming too philisophical for my own understandings, I will end here and leave you with the "beauty" I've captured in these wee hours.

Blogger is being tight and only letting me upload two. If you're truly interested in the others, be warned, they're very raw and somewhat disturbing.

Now you know.

Cracked, Slightly Broken

Cracked, slightly broken
an earthen vessel on a shelf
Awaiting the day of renewal
To once again feel purpose

Cracked, slightly broken
yet this vessel remains together
The wound, although deep, isn't more
Than the handiwork can withstand

Cracked, slightly broken
seemingly forgotten and left to deteriorate
Patiently it sits upon the Potter's shelf
Knowing only He can repair the damage done

Cracked, slightly broken
the earthen vessel is placed upon a table
To be made new, it must let its Maker work
Beautiful once again, but not without going through the fire

Cracked, slightly broken
a heart still beats inside
Striving for beauty, yet
Afraid to trust the Potter and His refining fire

Cracked, slightly broken
the heart continues to fill itself up
All the effort is to no avail
As imitation love seeps through, widening the crevices of pain

Cracked, slightly broken
this heart has had enough
Tired of doing things on its own
She surrenders to her Maker

Cracked, slightly broken
a new experience is felt
Over flowing with love that is true
Love that repairs all past cracks

Cracked, slightly broken
are the hearts of many others
Seeing their pain and knowing true healing
The once crumbling heart ministers to ones as she once was