Let it Snow

It’s beginning to feel a lot like Christmas.  I can’t believe it’s snowing outside already.  That never happens here in November, honestly!

Quite the spectacle actually…the ground is white and it’s all pretty outside ^^.  Maybe it’s a bit of an inconvenience to all those that are on the road right now, but I can handle that.

All this festivity, getting ready for the Christmas season.  Think of all the shoppers running around right now, making sure all their loved ones get gifts.  Time to sit back, relax, and think about the true meaning of Christmas.  Rather like “Christmas Shoes” by Bob Carlisle.  The song is a definite must for the Christmas season.  Too cheap to buy a CD?  At the very least, read the lyrics…


Project Washing Machine

1 I lift up my eyes to the hills—
where does my help come from?

2 My help comes from the LORD,
the Maker of heaven and earth.

3 He will not let your foot slip—
he who watches over you will not slumber;

4 indeed, he who watches over Israel
will neither slumber nor sleep.

5 The LORD watches over you—
the LORD is your shade at your right hand;

6 the sun will not harm you by day,
nor the moon by night.

7 The LORD will keep you from all harm—
he will watch over your life;

8 the LORD will watch over your coming and going
both now and forevermore.

~Psalm 121

So help me, I’ve managed to cause a washing machine to cease functioning. Halfway while doing my laundry, it decides to up and quit on me, leaving me with soggy, half-washed clothes. Absolutely wonderful!

The Psalm? Just because I thought it was a nice passage. It’s comforting to know that there’s someone up there watching over me. Lately my thoughts haven’t been quite in order; feeling a bit scatterbrained. There are times when I just don’t know what to do, or where to go. Good thing God’s watching over me, however misguided I may be by myself.

Another Year Older

Another year has passed…it’s so difficult to believe that I’m no longer a teenager. No more late nights gallivanting throughout the city, acting completely immature. No more crazy parties where everyone is thoroughly inebriated by the time the party’s over. It’s time to turn the page on all those impetuous decisions and irresponsible actions, regardless of how much I’ve participated in them to begin with.

First of all, came the inundation of Facebook wall posts, cell phone text messages, and e-mails confirming the sad fact that – yes – I was indeed getting old. Perhaps even more exciting was that I’d be with friends celebrating my birthday this year. Not studying in the basement of the Davis Centre Library. Not pulling another late night because of IB. Maybe actually having a bit of fun for once…

To help me celebrate another year of – well – being alive, Jay decided to mastermind a diabolical plan. Faced with the daunting task of planning a surprise party but still keeping me informed… I still remember his cunning as he had to break the news to me:

we’re planning your secret party for next week
when are you available jon

The venue? Boston Pizza. Time? 6:30pm. The guest list? Somehow I was supposed to believe the guest list composed of:


So without a clue of what awaited me, I arrived at Boston Pizza (late of course, but fashionably). Felix, Ben, and Jason were in a corner somewhere…probably talking about the latest online golf thing, or whatever. Roger and Simon were somewhere around the door, smiling and ready to give me the gift that they so carefully picked out for me. Mike, Jay, and Chris were loitering about, outside and inside, trying to secure a table…

Fast forwarding a bit, since I’m trying to write a blog entry, not an essay…Tanya and Jenny arrive shortly after. At this time I believe I was revelling in the fact that Jay managed to pull off such an invite list, including people who didn’t really hang around or even know each other.

Long story short, we finally got a table (see: a few minutes = half an hour). Seating arrangement, in counter-clockwise fashion starting with the person on my right:


Jason took this opportunity to give me his carefully thought-out birthday card. To me, it looked hastily written on the back of a bus transfer, but I knew that appearances were deceiving. The text clearly wished me a happy sixteen and a half year birthday. I’d been wondering where that one went ever since my seventeenth… How you have a birthday and be part of a year old is beyond me though.

Tanya took care of ordering for us, since we’re all such indecisive souls. Three large pizzas for everyone, along with some miscellaneous orders from the peanut gallery (see: other end of table). Felix, in his attempt to get me drunk and make me do stupid things, bought me a drink. After some food and conversation, we were all about to call it a night. That is, until another surprise (gasp) occurred. No doubt about it, the wheel of fortune was in full swing.

After an embarrassing Happy Birthday from waitresses who seemed to think I’d be better named Justin, we all shared some cake, split the bill, and took off. Took off in the sense that we all stood outside for countless minutes and argued about what we should do next. Friendly arguing, that is.

I took this opportunity to open my present, which was a rather nicely coloured scarf from American Eagle. The embarrassing fact is that the only way I know how to put on a scarf is to either tie it in a knot around my neck, or just wrap it a few times over and let it dangle…

Of course, being the nice person that she is, Jenny just couldn’t watch me strugle with my scarf any longer. She just reached over and helped me out. Must have looked kinda cute to an observer; don’t ask me, I’m obviously not thinking about such things. At this point, others decide to join in the fun. Great, now I’m a dress-up doll, too. I just wrap it a couple of times around, and let it sit there.

Here ensues more chatter about where we should have gone, including a half-baked vote. We decided to call it a night, and people started leaving. Since we live in the same area, I decided to take the ride home that Tanya offered me. Which, as it turns out, was an offer for Jenny’s mom to drive me back, go figure.

My Cantonese sucks.

At any rate, end of story. No mysterious abductions, flying cars, space travel, time-travellers, or espers at the end of it all. Nothing but another, normal birthday celebration. Come to think of it, I could get used to this…

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