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Professional Tourist: the Dublin chapter.

Today I fell in love. After a week in Dublin,  I have finally found an affection for Jonathan Swift. I always knew I liked him based on a few satires that I had read, but I never knew exactly how remarkable he was. If he hadn’t been dead for nearly 300 years I would consider making a move.  Let me explain…

With a new perspective I decided to tackle Dublin on my own today and revel in the fact that I could do exactly what I wanted–no one to drag me down! I had things I wanted to see and do and it felt like a great privilege to be able to do them at exactly my own pace.  So after an Americano (I’m not sure I can ever go back to drip coffee), I headed out to walk what ended up feeling like a million miles around the city.  My first stop was St. Patrick’s Cathedral. I had low expectations after I had already attend a choral evensong service at Dublin’s most famous cathedral, Christ Church. As it turns out this may have been my favorite stop. I’m not entirely sure why, as it was like going into any other Cathedral in Western Europe (epitaphs, busts, commemorations, and don’t forget the gift shop). It even took me a good 15 minutes before I realized that it wasn’t even a Catholic Cathedral at all, but rather the Church of Ireland (Anglican)–just like the famous Christ Church Cathedral.

When I entered I felt immediately at peace and reverence – something I have not felt in too long. I made my way to the little chapel at the front where I lit a candle for my family and took a moment to just be. With pain I realized for the first time that I had not brought even a single piece of spiritual literature with me on this trip.  Here I’ve been calling myself a pilgrim when I am no more than a typical tourist!!  I had meant to bring Joel Mason’s booklet on pilgrimage that he wrote for SSU, but of course, I totally forgot it.   I am extremely ashamed that it took me over a week to realize this.  But my moment in St. Patrick’s may have been what my academic advisor, Dr. Gregg Finley, would call a “thin place” (a place of genuine personal connection between the heavens and the earth) –it was brief but enough to remind me why I am here.

I continued about the Cathedral until I came to the display on my dear Jonathan Swift, who was Dean there during the early 18th Century.  There I read about his life as, what modern lingo would call, an activist. He used his political and literary gifts to battle injustice in Ireland—from building a proper hospital for the mentally ill (who were often put on display before the public) and raising money for destitute elderly women, to single handedly preventing the English government from infecting Ireland with a debased currency which would have ruined the already fragile economy.  I know I want to read more about this man, more of his works, and hopefully squeeze him into my thesis somehow.  I think my point of infatuation came when I read a quote of his saying: “We have just enough religion to make us hate, but not enough to make us love one another.” (Thoughts on Various Subjects).  I am afraid not much has changed since.  In reflection i wonder if we have simple exchanged one conflict for another: protestant vs cathoic; muslim vs christian; secular vs. sacred. Sadly, we have not learned from our past in this regard.

After my visit to St. Patrick’s I carried on through the courtyards of Dublin Castle to the Chester Beatty Library.  This library houses some of the oldest written works existing today including their oldest piece, dated about 2700 BC, which, hilariously, is a very erotic love poem that is so explicit, the translation is not released to the general public– including the librarians themselves!  Perhaps some things don’t change?

But among the library’s collections they have some of the oldest known pieces of the gospels on papyrus, dated about 250 A.D.  It was a worthwhile visit, learning all sorts of things not only about Western manuscripts but also Middle Eastern and Eastern religions, as well as many secular books (Marie Antoinette’s personal collection). This isn’t even to mention a great overview of the history of the book itself which I found pretty fascinating actually (and built on my previous intro to book making video at the book of Kells). It’s o.k., you can call me a geek.

After the library I carried on to what I had been anticipating since a taxi driver told me it was by far the best tourist attraction in Dublin—the Kilmainham Gaol. This is one of the largest prisons in Europe and key to Irish political history. The tour was amazing and gives a great overview of the 1916 Rising and other rebellions leading up to Ireland’s independence from Britain.  The tour guide did an excellent job of adding a human component with the story of political prisoner Joseph Plummett, who married his sweat heart in the jail’s chapel just a day before he was executed for being a rebel leader. I’ll admit i choked back a tear or two as the guide told of how Grace Plummett waited all night only to hear the final execution shots ring out to tell her that her husband was dead. It is said the execution of these leaders was the key component in declaring Ireland a free state.  The tour also gave a great overview of the philosophy of criminal reform that was prevalent during the Victorian era in Western Europe, of which Kilmainham Gaol was a leader.

All of this amounted to about 7 hours on my feet and although I was initially planning to do one more stop (The National Library), I just couldn’t do it.  I plan to have a few more days in Dublin throughout my trip so I can see what I missed then, including the Guinness Storehouse and the Writer’s Museum (more intriguing to me now that I am in love with Jonathan Swift). And in case you are worried, this has been just one of my days here. I have already viewed the Book of Kells (first stop!), Trinity College’s Old Library (a huge library of books only dated before 1850), the National Art Gallery (Jack Yeats and Henry Clark steal the show), Christ Church Cathedral, and have experience several pubs  (and am currently sitting in one as I write, nursing a pint of Bulmers). However, for now, I am happy to leave the bustle of a very touristy city for some 5 star camping near the town of Kilkenny (a cottage in the country).

With Love…


Dubh Lin

Well, after a year of hoping, wishing, praying, and planning I have at long last made it to Ireland.  Currently in the capital city of Dublin, I am finishing my day as most of you are just getting off work.

It’s quite strange to be in a city where everyone speaks English, and yet everything is still so foreign. Despite the common language I question how well i can actually communicate with people.  I mostly get strange looks when i talk so I have refrained from doing so too much today since I am already rather sensitve and tired after a long journey.

John Mannion, a historian on Irish immigration in Canada, wrote this about early Irish immigrants:

Once the Irish peasant had left his native townland, he said farewell to kin and neighbours and to almost everything that was customary and familiar. For the first time, perhaps, he faced the world virtually alone, as a stranger. To his eyes the novelty of the move must have appeared overwhelming.  (John Mannion, Irish Settlements in Eastern Canada, 1974)
In a very very small way, I think i can relate.  Although I have travelled lots, this is my first time travellign in a foreign country alone. I don’t think i anticipated how overwhelming it would all see..for the first time facing the world alone, as a stranger.

Despite the initial experience at Dublin airport (not the friendly place I imagined), everyone has been helpful so far. I had my first day at Trinity College where I passed through the groves of tourists and into the Berkley Library with my very own TCD student card.  The head librarian was particularly lovely. She went out of her way to give me a tour, collect material, and provide me with direction to every place I would ever want to go.

Although my accomplishments today only involved staying awake and getting the basic of TC library use, my suspicions were confirmed. Most of the primary sources I need are scattered around Ireland at local history site (archives, libraries, museums, etc.).  I didn’t imagine there were any sources Trinity College didn’t have as it contains over 4 millions books. Copyright laws automatically give them a copy of every book published in England. I understood today why you need a master’s degree to become a Libarian! I can’t imagine having to catalog and organize all those collections!  In fact, only about 20% of Trinity’s sources are on the shelves for public access–the  rest are stockpiled or electronic.

I suppose some people are wondering (and the rare few maybe even interested) in what I am actually studying here in Ireland.  Well, this is all research for my classes at St. Stephen’s University and eventual Masters thesis.  Specifically, while I am here, I am focusing a research paper called “Cultural Transfer and the Irish Immigration Narrative in New Brunswick.”  Of course  i am looking at Irish settlement in all the Maritimes, but often New Brunswick (saint john and st. andrews) was an entry point for irish immgrants.

Here is a short excerpt from my project proposal which i am using as an outline which may give you an idea of exactly what i am doing way over here across the Atlanti:

The Irish Diaspora is a compelling field of study in both Canada and Ireland. With the help of the Ireland Canada University Foundation, I plan to explore in depth the historical phenomenon of cultural transfer and the Irish immigration narrative in New Brunswick and Maritime Canada. Through the study of the Irish exodus and the eventual settlement of Irish Catholics in New Brunswick (1765-1850), Atlantic Canada as a whole will gain a clearer understanding of the Irish contribution to Canadian identity.  This work will provide a detailed case study of early Irish settlement communities in the province of New Brunswick (particularly the Miramichi and Saint John regions) to determine what cultural traits and traditions were both left behind in the “Old World” and which were kept in particular “New World” settlements.  To achieve this research objective, a thorough analysis of the cultural transfer of early Irish communities is essential. I plan to uncover the ideals of these early immigrants, how their expectations were met (or not met), how the economic and social status of the Catholic immigrants in particular affected their migration and settlement choices, which folk traditions were kept and which were lost, and finally how fully appreciating the Irish Diaspora in the Maritime Provinces will help preserve Irish culture and enhance Canada’s Irish identity.

The Irish Catholic settlement communities in New Brunswick remained unassimilated longer than other regions of immigration in the region.  They still retain a vibrant Irish identity.  As such, these communities can be used as a case study for both Irish and Canadian scholars alike.  However, to be credible, this research initiative must have access to significant sources contained in the archives and libraries of Dublin; sources such as emigration and ship records, censuses, newspapers, and periodicals, as well as immigration and folk literature and related first-hand accounts. The Irish people in New Brunswick have much to offer both Canada and Ireland, but cultural transfer and the Irish immigration narrative needs deliberate attention and investment. As one scholar of Irish Diaspora Studies put it, “If Irish Diaspora Studies – and, indeed, Irish Studies – is to be anything more than a ragbag of predilections then we must make good scholarship our first aim.” (Patrick O’Sullivan, University of Bradford, 1997)


For something I have been planning for a long time, I am stunned by how unprepared I feel for my upcoming trip to Ireland.

yes, it’s true, i’m going!  Finally. But no, i didn’t get the research grant I applied for.   It was disappointing news to say the least, especially after how much time and energy I put into writing the grant proposal; but i knew long before i found out that i would make my way to Ireland one or another, and I promised to keep people posted, so here I am.  This trip will still be a part of my graduate course work (part of a 6 credit hour independent study) and will still find me studying Irish Catholic migration to Atlantic Canada and the ties that still bind the two regions.  For those interested, I will write a bit more soon about what sorts of things I will be studying and what I hope to accomplish in my research. In total, i’ll be gone for one month.

In some ways i see this as a personal pilgrimage: a journey with spiritual and personal significance.  I can’t remember what it is like anymore to stop and think about life…to reflect on my experiences, who I am becoming, and who I have already become without realizing it.  It is like I blink and a week, a month, a year has past. It’s a pace of life of which I have grown all too accustomed.  I am altogether ecstatic and nervous to change that pace. I am worried about what will happen when I actually have time to think;  worried what will happen when I stop everything else to do something that is only important to me and not anyone else.  Come to think of it, i have never done that before.   I think I expected to be met with disappointment and discouragement for pursuing a crazy dream, only to come to find out that there are people out there who care about me so much they want me to succeed in fulfilling it,  even if it is just that…crazy! I can’t tell you how much this experience has rocked my world. This is new ground for me.

And I do have moments where I feel absolutely crazy.  I am leaving Canada, my job, my friends and family, for an entire month to pursue some delusional ideal.  In some ways it is like I am chasing a rainbow in hopes of finding a treasure…only i don’t know exactly what the treasure is yet.

As it stands I am4 days away from leaving with about 100 things to do somehow. So for me, the pilgrimage doesn’t begin until the plane takes off with me on it.

I plan to keep track of my journey through this blog and i’ll be posting on the St. Stephen’s University travel blog as well  ( My hope is to be fully present in my experiences, finally taking the time to get some writing done that I have put off for too long.  So, as crazy as this may sound to those of you who know me well…you may not see me much on facebook and email; in fact, i hope to stay away from it as much as possible. I think I just need a true break from regular life–time to sort some things out in my mind and heart, and hopefully be a better person for it in the end.

So thank you thank you, thank you, thank you, for all your encouragement and support. I have never felt more cared for than I have through this journey. There are no words to express how touched by support, surprised by kindness, and changed by Love I am… Please keep me in your thoughts and prayers as I go on my way chasing rainbows.

–The Crazy Pilgrim.

Something Has Gotta Give

It’s after 2 a.m. on a Monday night and as dead tired as I am, I can’t seem to sleep.  Ever have one of those nights where your heart is racing a million miles an hour and your head is full of jumbled thoughts, fears, to-do lists, worries, and revelations?  I know you have.   I am actually one of the lucky ones.  Normally sleep comes very easily for me…it’s actually one of my best skills–sleeping.  I could compete with the best of them if there was ever some sort of sleep competition.  But I ramble…

Traditionally, I stray away from using blogging as a form of journaling–putting my private thoughts on public display is not generally my idea of good time. However, I am learning a lot about being honest with myself and others and understanding that with vulnerability comes great reward and great release.  Today I need to vent a bit.  It’s been building the past few days…a growing sense of anxiety and sinking feeling that resembles depression. No, not clinical, just that hopeless, down-and-out feeling when you realize that there is no good solution to the monumental problem(s) in your life.

Here is my problem. I love my job. I love my community, but something’s gotta give. I am exhausted (I know this is magnified right now due to a bad cold that has me sniffling and sneezing and thinking only of sleep) but it’s more than just doing “too much.”  It’s a deep understanding that I may, in fact, be totally crazy–totally insane for choosing this life. I am wondering, have I made a grave mistake in returning to St. Stephen?  I have taken a job that totally consumes my life because I believe in what I am doing so strongly. I believe in SSU and the education that is given here. I also believe that western culture has it wrong in so many ways and I don’t want to live the life that I see so many of my peers living. I want my life to count for something more than a job title, more than my name on a piece of property…I want to make people a priority and get back to a more simplistic lifestyle. I want to actually LIVE OUT a faith that I believe with my whole heart. That is part of the reason I chose to return to this tiny town in southern New Brunswick, and entirely the reason that I have stayed for 3 years now.  I have amazing friends, adopted family, a great social life, a job I love, and a masters degree in the works…and yet there is one thing so obviously missing.

I went to a wedding this past weekend. It was beautiful, simple and so perfectly painful to realize that, in fact, I cannot have my cake and eat it too. Something has to give if I want the whole marriage-and-family bit of life. And the truth is, I do. I absolutely do. I don’t think I could have confidently said that just a year ago.  And so now I wonder with dread if I have to give up something I love in pursuit of something I want.  The truth is I can’t ever imagine meeting anyone who is crazy enough to want this life with me.  To walk beside me though my continuing education while I work at a terribly underpaid and demanding job only to turn around and pour back into a broken town in one of the poorest places in Canada…oh yes, all the while living miles away from family (because this place is miles away from everywhere), job opportunities, suburbia, and box stores. Now there’s an offer!!

I wonder at what cost have I chosen this life. I am not looking for someone to rescue me from it. I am looking for someone to love me through what can only be described as pure insanity. But not only love me…they must love this place, these people, this God that i so desperately love.

Now do you see why I feel so depressed?  I can’t ask that of someone, and soon I need to decide what I can really ask of myself.  Do a hundred good friends make up for lack of romantic connection? I know what it is to feel alone. I also know what it is to push through that feeling and find that I am stronger and more capable than I ever imagined and for that I am so thankful.  It really is not a matter of need. It is not even a matter of faith (I am not one of those people who thinks God has a perfect person for everyone…I am far too practical), it is honestly and truly a matter of want.  My “simple” life has become incredibly complicated, and my passion for learning to love and live well is causing me to spread myself so thin that I give inadequately to everyone, including myself.

And I am so very very tired. And I think I am too young to feel this way.

So what do I do?

I have no answer…just a growing sense of dread that something’s gotta give.



I went for a drive a few weeks ago. Everyone is talking about social justice issues these days and I can’t help but wonder where the justice is in my own community. The pictures below are just a few of the ones I took on my drive through “the ridges”. Charlotte County, I’ve been told, is economically the poorest county in Canada and just a few minutes drive on some rural back roads is found the evidence. Looking at some of the conditions people live in makes me wonder are we really any better here in Canada then some of the developing nations we criticize?

I spent some time in South Africa a few years ago and one thing for which we heavily criticized the government was the dramatic gap we saw between the rich and the poor. In the midst of Cape Town or Johannesburg we could convince ourselves we were in any 1st world, Western city. But just a few miles out into the rural area were massive townships where thousands of people lived in destitute conditions.

How can everyone just ignore such a huge problem? I wondered. How can the government justify allowing so many people to live in such poverty? Now I understand that there was a plank in my own eye and that we live in the same sort of denial here in the Maritimes. Sure, it may not look like a South African township, but some of conditions here, when combined with harsh winters, no electricity/water, and the rising cost of fuel, mean that many New Brunswickers live in 3rd world standards. I know it’s not just Charlotte County, in fact it’s a country wide problem and very much a wide spread problem here in the Maritimes (I have seen some similar areas in Cape Breton, Western PEI, Northern Aboriginal Reserves, etc.).

Please do not misinterpret what I am saying. Believe me, I think it is beyond necessary that we all move toward a way of life that consumes less resources and I would never want to criticize someone for choosing to live simply. But we all deserve the opportunity to make that choice. I do not think that this perpetual cycle of poverty is of many people’s choosing.

I can’t seem to escape the nagging question playing on repeat in the back of my head asking “Why do we allow this? How do I allow it?” I know there is no one, single, solution–nothing so simple or else we would have fixed it by now. In part the federal government has taken much and given back very little in return; in part it is corporations like Irving that we have allowed to run our province, take our land, and determine working standards; and in part it is our own “poverty mentality” and inability to step up and assume responsibility for our neighbours. As Maritimers it is all we have ever known and therefore we do not know anymore what is and is not acceptable.

Let me say this now.

This is absolutely not acceptable.

I don’t know what the answer is but I will continue to seek for one, and I hope and pray that as we all become more aware of the plank in our own eye we will stop ignoring our own economic problems, convincing ourselves that we are “making poverty history” because we verbally encourage our government (and Bono) to give more of our federal dollars toward eradicating 3rd world hunger at a G8 summit. There are plenty of justice issues next door and we need to stand together and figure this one out.

The Bits in My Brain

the-facts.gifI have these random facts that just float around in my head that I have picked up in my 27 years of existence. I have come to realize they are completely useless, but still interesting…so I will share them with you. Here are all the useless things I know:

  • Giraffes sleep only 5-30 minutes per day but eat from 16-20 hours per day!
  • Iceland consumes the most Coca Cola per capita
  • The Czech Republic consumes the most beer per capita
  • Elephants can laugh and they also mourn
  • Coffee helps prevent the following diseases: diabetes, colon cancer, Alzheimer’s, and Parkinson’s disease
  • China has more English speakers than the United States
  • Panda bears often abandon their babies because they are afraid of them
  • Horses cannot puke
  • Camels have three eye lids
  • Elephants can’t jump (but every other mammal can)
  • The square root of 5 is: 2.236067978…(I memorized this is the 11th grade and never forgot it)
  • One language dies out approximately every two weeks
  • The skin on your elbow is called your “wenus” and you can pinch it as hard as you can and it won’t hurt
  • A Goldfish has the memory span of 3 seconds
  • Canada consumes the most macaroni and cheese per capita
  • A leopard can drag a zebra up a tree and hang it there
  • King James was gay (as in the King James bible guy)
  • Okinawa Island, Japan has the healthiest people in the world
  • Malta is the fattest country in the world (followed by Britain, then US, then Canada)

o.k. now that i have that off my chest i feel much better. I don’t know why I remember random things like this–I think my many trips to wildlife parks and zoos explain my animal references–everything else is a mystery.

Babies, Diamonds, Falling Cupboards, and Sinfulness


Recap of the past week…it’s amazing what can happen in just a 7 day period….

Thursday: I get word that good friends of mine who are having a baby have been rushed in for a c-section 10 days early. There is a lot of waiting around until finally we find out it’s a girl and mom and baby are fine! hooray!!

I rush to hospital in Saint John after work to visit new baby who looks very perfect and I even get to hold her! Poor mom is very sick and slightly delusional as the stupid doctors didn’t give her any pain meds (she looked at me with warning in her eyes, the way only a good friend can, and silently whispered “Shelley, don’t ever do this!”).

The whole thing is pretty crazy really. I mean one minute there is this unknown thing inside her stomach and the next minute it’s a real person with fingers and toes and everything.

Friday–off to Boston! My sister needs help picking out an engagement ring so my friend Kristi and I go to help. Plus, really, I think we were both in need of a weekend outside of St. Stephen. It’s too small in this town sometimes…

Get to Boston (I no longer cringe in fear of driving into the city! BIG accomplishment)… and head straight to IKEA. Where else would we go first? Kristi is a decorating diva and has decided she’s going to help me re-do my bedroom. She keeps loading me up with all the essentials. She really should own some shares in the store or something because she knows exactly where everything is located, how much it is, how much it was last month, what colors it comes in, how reliable it is…etc. And the store is three floors big! I’m telling you, don’t go to IKEA without this girl.

We then rush back to the city to my sister’s place where we have a great home cooked meal with her and Future Fiance. My sister is the hostess with the most-est. It makes me laugh at how different we are…I left a house guest to fend for herself while I took off to Boston. Meanwhile my sister is treating us as though the Queen herself has come for a visit! I thinks she gets that from our mom…

At the same time it’s always surprising how alike we are too…both of us lacking the practical, systematic personality qualities–meaning we often get lost or lose something and together that can be a deadly combo.

Friday Night–off for drinks at a Martini bar then dancing. I realize how great it is to be in a city and think I could really get used to this…I feel a bit like Sarah Jessica Parker in Sex in the City. We get invited back to a Harvard Law School party but decline. We are not THAT much like the girls from the show. The best part was the great talks over this amazing goat-cheese & pear appetizer…the worst part was the couple making out in the booth beside us.

Saturday: breakfast and then onto the real goal of the weekend–ring shopping! But first it is essential that we get our nails done. We do and my “nail technician” is speaking Thai (?) to the girl beside her and laughing a lot while looking at me. It makes me feel pretty self-conscious…is it my cuticles?

Off into the heart of the city. I had NO idea how many jewelers could exist together in one place. I’m not talking the city of Boston, I mean on one small block on Park Street. We go into one building where floors 4-8 are inhabited with various jewelers! It is quite a day as none of us really know anything about rings…and my sister perhaps the least of us. Her job was to find a style she wanted, but with so many option out there it’s not as easy as it sounds. I did learn a lot though, but I’m not sure how helpful it was to her poor boyfriend.

After ring shopping, onto clothes shopping. We have only time to get through H & M which was probably good for all of our budgets! Back home to get all snazzed up for the evening. What were we planning to do, you ask? Well a friend of my sister & Future Fiance was celebrating as she had just defended her doctoral dissertation. Drinks and dancing (yes, again) at a club called The Felt which is, yes, quite pretentious, but fun nonetheless. We had a blast dancing and then home with sore feet. We left Sunday afternoon after a great breakfast and sad goodbyes just in time to be home for the superbowl…

*Let me take this opportunity to express my condolences to the Patriots, especially dear, handsome Tom Brady.

Monday–Woke up slightly disappointed to realize I was back to regular life again. No fancy martini bars and jewelers and nail technicians…back to work. But wait! Just when I thought things couldn’t get exciting around here something happened: I am fast asleep in my cozy bed on Monday night when I am abruptly awoken by a VERY loud crashing sound. To be sure it scared the demons right out of me! I get out of bed to investigate. Was it a burglar? Did part of the building fall off? I warily creep through the various rooms of my apartment and don’t see anything…until…I reach the kitchen.

“O MY GOSH!!!!!” I screech. “WHAT THE F*CK!”

The place is a disaster, glass everywhere, and I look up to see that the entire row of cupboards have actually FALLEN OFF THE WALL! My roomie, Andrea, wakes up and we survey the damage and Kristi comes running down from the apartment above to see what has happened. Together we manage to clean things up a bit and our shock turns to hysterical laughter. This is basically how the conversation went:

“Andrea, be careful of all the glass in your bare feet!” (Andrea pulls broken glass from her foot and laughs)…
“This is crazy!” I say.
“I’m hungry” says my roommate. Andrea pulls peanut-butter from the fallen cupboard and starts eating… We all begin laughing very hard.
“wow, let’s watch a movie!!” says Andrea
“um…it’s 4:00 in the morning.” I say, surveying the destroyed kitchen.
“yeah, but we’re all up.” she says

We don’t, but I might as well have because i cannot sleep which makes Tuesday a very long and tiring.

BUT, don’t worry. the fun isn’t over. Because, in case you missed it, Tuesday was indeed SHROVE TUESDAY! (or Mardi Gras, or Pancake Tuesday, or whatever you want to call it…). I help make hundreds of pancakes for lunch for the students (Kristi, who is in charge, was drowning in pancake orders so Andrea and I to the rescue!!) It turns out to be the most hilarious thing! I, who have dressed up that day, end up with pancake batter all over me (those who know me aren’t surprised)!

You know, the thing is that i always have so much fun with the girls. It’s definitely going to be a problem when I get married someday…sigh. Guys just don’t have as much fun…

The problem with Shrove Tuesday though, is that it comes before Ash Wednesday which is the beginning of Lent. I have decided to give up sugary goodies and swearing this year. I attend mass by myself on Wednesday evening (I’m so pious…) and due to my over-tired state i am quite cranky. Some ladies sit behind and spend most of the time gossiping during the mass. I am judging them harshly in my head when suddenly my cell phone rings! yep, very very loudly too.

“SH*T…SH*T!!!!!!!!!!!!” I jump and grab my purse, frantically hitting it as I disturb the entire church trying to silence the phone. The ladies laugh behind me. “DAMN!” i mutter. Oh shit, i swore. So, not only did I not make it a single day not swearing, but i swore in church during the mass that is all about repentance.

I suck at being pious. I really really do.

So that’s my week so far. This weekend, onto the ECMAs (East Coast Music Awards)!!! There are so many bands playing all over Fredericton and it’s going to be a blast…i hope. And who knows what will happen…

Good Advice

"Don't sweat the petty things and don't pet the sweaty things"

Currently reading…

"'Tis" by Frank McCourt


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