Whatever. I'm stupid, anyways.

"I pray where I am, sitting by the window, looking out through the curtain at the empty garden. I don't even close my eyes. Out there or inside my head, it's all equal darkness. Or light.

My God, who art in the Kingdom of Heaven, which is within.

I wish you would tell me Your name, your real one, I mean. But 'You' will do as well as anything.

I wish I knew what you were up to. But whatever it is, help me to get through it, please. Though maybe it's not Your doing; I don't believe for an instant that what's going on here is what you meant.

I have enough daily bread, so I won't waste time on that. It isn't the main problem. It's getting it down without choking on it.

Now we come to forgiveness. Don't worry about fogiving me right now. There are more important things. For instance: keep the others safe, if they are safe. Don't let them suffer too much. If they have to die, let it be fast. You might even provide a Heaven for them. We need you for that. Hell we can make for ourselves.

I suppose I should say I forgive whoever did this, and whatever they're doing now. I'll try, but it isn't easy.

Temptation comes next. At the Center, temptation was anything much more than eating and sleeping. Knowing was a temptation. What you don't know won't tempt you, Aunt Lydia used to say.

Maybe I don't really want to know what's going on. Maybe I'd rather not know. The Fall was a fall from innocence to knowlege.

I think about the chandeliertoo much, though it's gone now. But you could use a hook in the closet. I've considered the possibilities. All you'd have to do, after attatching yourself, would be to lean your weight forward and not fight.

Deliver us from evil.

Then there's Kingdom, power, and glory. It takes a lot to believe in those right now. But I'll try it now anyways. 'In hope', as they say on gravestones.

You must feel pretty ripped off. I guess it's not the first time.

If I were you I'd be fed up. I'd be really sick of it. I guess that's the difference between us.

I feel very unreal, talking to You like this. I feel as if I'm taking to a wall. I wish you'd answer. I feel so alone.

All alone by the telephone. And I can't use the telephone. And if I could, who would I call?

Oh, God. It's no joke. Oh God oh God. How can I keep on living?"

The Handmaid's Tale, pg. 225 - 226

I can't believe it.

Mr. Vancamp died. On Wednesday. Of a heart attack. I just found out about 20 minutes ago.

The last thing he said to me was "have a nice life", to which I said "you too".

I didn't like him all that much - he was really mean my last year - but that didn't mean I wanted him to die. He died. He's gone. I am in shock.

Five years I worked with him in the theatre. This is unreal.

I can't believe it.

Intelectually stimulating words from Chrstina Aguilera on the topic that matters.

"My assistant came in the room when it happened and she's like, 'Britney had a boy!' and I was like, 'Oh my gosh!' I don't know where I was for a while when she was pregnant but it really kicked in at that point," Aguilera excitedly tells MTV News. "It's like, wow, she had a baby! That's crazy!"

Couldn't have said it better myself.

Schnitzel.

It has an unappetizing smell and looks like catfood.

So why does it taste so good?

Oh, the mysteries of life.

I came to an important life realization today. I feel like I have some kind of a direction in my life now. Or, rather, my life's goal has shifted slightly. Or maybe I'm just looking at it in a different light, I'm not sure.

Dad had a big political hurrah today. It was fun, more or less. There weren't as many people as were hoped for, but it was ok.

I went for my dad, obviously. But there's also this cute boy named Oliver that has been at the last two meetings. He's heading up dad's youth campaign. He lives in Langly, which is much closer than Missouri or Manchester. I've never seen him there with a girl, so I'm hoping he may be single...

Anywho, he wasn't there. Dad thinks it's funny that I'm anxious to meet him, and assured me that he'll "be around quite often". Last time I didn't introduce myself - the next time I see him, I will. But I'm not getting my hopes up. All gorgeous people have girlfriends. A big factor which I tend to forget.

I met a girl today who's 17, unmarried, and has a baby girl. She lives in a single room apartment with her boyfriend, can't drive, and isn't planning on going to post secondary. Travelling is a hope for the distant future when money isn't as tight, and her daughter is a little older.

I just can't imagine what it must be like to have all your plans for the next 18 years sucked away in an instant. You can't go places, you can't party, you can't even just go out to the movies. Everything is complicated as a result of having a child. I mean, maybe if your life goal is to have a kid it's ok - but I can't even fathom what it would be like to have that as your plans for the future.

No thanks, I think I'll pass.

I got up early to go running today. I must be insane.

On the run there was a big bus that past me. It had a huge avertisement for Lube World. The phrase on it said "The best ride of your life!".

But it was for a bike store.

I had a dream about Doug last night. It was a future dream, like what would happen if we were to meet up again. It was awkward for a while, and then finally at the end of the night I managed to talk to him. I forced him to talk to me, actually. I told him everything I've been wanting to say, what's I said in my last email, more or less. I was angry at him, I was upset. Then he became angry at me for the things I said, and told me that he didn't have to stick around and listen to me. Then he left.

What a horrible dream. You'd think that sleeping I could escape real life drama. It's disgusting.

My friend Mike and I have decided that, since both of our friends have seem to have deserted us, we're going to wallow in our singledom together. Without fear of him coming on to me. Yes.

Doug never did email me back from my last semi-angry email to him.

Did I honestly expect him to?

I am extremely tempted to email him and be like "hey, this is Lisa, the girl who you claimed you would love forever - do you think you might be able to, you know, give me the answers that I deserve?". But I won't. Why? Because I think I might just have to accept that he is indeed a bastard, and doesn't give a damn anymore.

What got me thinking about him, you ask? I was on IMR's website, and there was a picture of him on there. Now, I knew that this picture was on there, but I was going over the band's tour blog thing, and it mentioned him. Him and a girl named Amanda.

And this got me thinking. Who is this Amanda? Did her and Doug go together? Are they friends? Or did they just meet up at the place? And if they did, what happened with them up there?

And now I'm annoyed at myself for even caring. No, wait, I don't care. Because he can date whoever the hell he wants.

I just wish I had a boyfriend first. As petty as that is. I want him to realize he made a mistake. I want, in the end, for him to come crawling back, and me to say ''no, Doug, you blew it". But doesn't every girl who gets dumped want that?

I'm so sick of being the only single one in our group. We never do anything as a group anymore - they're just all off being coupley all the time. Hell, when we're together they're coupley. And as a result, I'm left out. A lovely feeling, really.

I don't necessarily want a boyfriend, I just want my friends back.

So what is it that I'm feeling, exactly? Not jealousy, I'm sure of that.

Why do I care?

Maybe I don't. Maybe I just think that I do, but it's really me just thinking that I should. Try to make sense of that one.

For goodness sakes. You're better off without him. It's long over. It's been five months. Just get over it already. You were doing so well.

I don't miss him. My problem is that I still care about him - and I can't just forget about him. Lord knows I would like to.

I. Don't. Care.

That must be it. I don't care, I'm just lonely.

I'm frusterated with my room.

I've just spent the last two hours cleaning it - finishing off the moving boxes, picking up my clothes, that kind of thing. It's not completely done, but it's come a (sort of) long way.

I threw out some of Doug's stuff. Vanessa and I made the deal awhile ago that I would throw out whatever couldn't fit in a shoe box, minus the giant pink rabbit that he bought me (I don't know if that was part of the deal, but I'm not thowing it out. It's far too cute to be in a dumpster). In the end I threw out three shirts and a picture thingy. It's a little sad, but it has to happen. The man of my dreams is beginning to change - he doesn't look like Doug any more.

I have to main annoyances regarding my room. First is that I have too much stuff. Even with a bigger room, I have too much stuff. No, it's not that I have too much, it's that I don't have any places for anything yet. I'm sick of my dresser. It's an area for things that I've collected over the years that have no purpose. It's ugly too. I've half a mind to get rid of it.

Secondly, it's so bare. There's nothing on the walls. They're boring white. My room has no personality, no nothing. I wanted to paint it a nice colour to create some kind of mood, but the pink carpet has so far prevented me.

I want my room to be different than my last one. I'm older now, and I want it to be a little more mature. I want it to be comfortable, a place where you can come in and relax. A room that you can walk in and say "yes, Lisa, this fits you very well". Right now it's just pieces of furniture stuck along the walls.

I think I need to take a trip to Ikea. I'll ask mom tomorrow.

There's this show that I've been wanting to watch for a while, but haven't been able to see. I finally was able to watch an episode tonight, after I got home from tae kwon do.

The show, made by the same people who created American Idol, is called So you think you can dance. It's basically the same thing as AI, but with dancing. In the final rounds, the finalists are paired randomly, and have to preform two dances, also chosen at random.

I have to say that men who dance are extremely, extremely sexy. There's just something about a guy being able to kick higher than I can that is really attractive.

I have my favorite. He specializes in international dance, and is simply amazing. My heart actually fluttered - and it very rarely flutters. Dancing is just so sexy.

I've always wanted to dance. Maybe when I'm a full time intstructor and don't have to work two jobs. But I want to learn to swing dance, or ballroom dance, or something with a partner. I can't think of anything that would be more fun. I've been told I'd be ok too, with the balance/coordiation/flexibility that I've got from taek. I think the biggest issue I would have is that I can't point my toes. It's been six years of front kick position - it actually hurts to point my toes.

Anyways. Enough of being a girl.

Mr. Hanger wants me to start training more. He says that to be training for your black belt, you need to be doing at least four hours a week, if not more by yourself. I don't have any place to practice by myself, but he is upping my training time. He wants me to get my black belt soon, so that there's no complications with Stephen.

I'm not wasting space on this blog with Stephen. He doesn't deserve any of my thought. If you're curious, ask.

I've felt my technique improve in the last little while. I am trying extremely hard, especially on my side kicks, and I would love to test in October. When I did my blue belt form for Mr. Hanger tonight, though, he wasn't as impressed as I thought he was going to be. Instead he told me I need to train more. He noticed the improvement in my side kicks, but didn't say anything. I so rarely see him that I think I'm starving for some constructive criticism. I know that I have a long way to go, but I also would love to hear a bit about how far I've come.

My black belt is just within reach. I'm getting anxious.

Yum yum yum.

Cereal.

Coldplay.

Coffee.

Alliteration.

Yes.

My grandma and grandpa are the most amazing people I know.

Grandpa was born and lived most of his adult life in Vietnam, and Grandma grew up along the China-Tibetan border. They met at Nyack Bible college in New York. They went off and were missionaries for most of their lives.

Now that they're retired, they teach Sunday School classes at church for a lot of the week. They're leaders in the Chinese church, and teach a lot of classes there - they also have Vietnamese church and regular church.

They are extremely poor. They live on the top floor of a building in a tiny little apartment. They can't afford most of the things that people take for granted.

This is an example of the kind of people they are.

My cousin, David John, is living at Waterloo going to university. They didn't have a couch, so grandma and grandpa gave him theirs.

When my mom asked where they were going to sit, they said "oh, well, we have our rocking chair, and the chairs from the kitchen table". They can't afford to go out and buy another one. They are hoping to be able to save up and buy a leather couch. Someone gave them $200 in Sears money a while ago, so they have somewhere to go from.

Mom's hoping to send them $100 to help them out with their couch fund. We don't have a lot of money right now either - if we could, we would buy them a whole leather living room set. A whole house. As much as they would ever need.

They can't afford air conditioning (and most people in Toronto can, because it's much more of a necessity there than it is here). Mom has bought them many fans, but she's stopped now because grandma and grandpa just give them all away.

They're so selfless. I hope I can become half of the kind of people they are.

"Love is an amazing emotion. It can overwheln you with its abundance, can scare you with its intensity, and can comfort you with its warmth. Love is euphoria, and at the same time fear; I'm amazed that I've found it, and so scared that something out of my control will cause me to loose it.I have yet to discover how to freeze time - to pause a moment so that it will last forever. But I am searching for a way."

I saw the most attractive guy in all of Vancouver today.

He came into my work. I said hi, only half looking at him. I was folding a pile of sweaters, you see. And most people ignore my greetings anyways, or say hello back without glancing my way. He said hi back, and said "how's it going?". When I looked up at him, I was honestly taken aback by how gorgeous he was.

Every so often you see a beautiful person, guy or girl. And you can't help but want to stare at them. Everything on his face was perfect - give him golden curls, and he could have passed for Gabriel. I was honestly surprised. I think he was the most beautiful person I have every seen in my life.

I have never stood by a person who made me feel drab in comparison.

I went and grabbed my price gun, and went back to offer him help finding clothes. But he was gone. I guess he was just a browser.

I went up and told Tammy that there had just been an "extremely pretty boy" at the back. Queenie asked if that was the guy in the white shirt, and I said yes. she then agreed that he was indeed cute, but that he had a girlfriend.

I forgot. All gorgeous people have girlfriends. Or live in other countries.

Rob, my ex-manager, stopped by my work today. He has been on holdiays for two weeks, so I was excited to see him. I ran over to him and gave him a huge hug.

"Do anything exciting?" I asked him. He goes "yeah!", and puts his hand (which is holding a large coffee from starbucks) in my face. I look at his hand, and can't figure out what he's trying to show me. It took me a second to realize that there was a silver wedding band on his finger. I yelled "you got married!!" a little too loud, and gave him another hug. Then I asked why he hadn't invited me.

"I wanted to invite you, really, but I didn't want to break you heart or anything".

Rob and I have a very odd relationship which I think I have commented on before. We are soulmates, but born about 8 years too far apart. If I was older, or he was younger, we would be perfect for each other. But because we're not, we're just really good friends. Rob and I connect on the same level that Doug and I connected. We have similar thinking patterns, and as a result can understand each other quite well. We both know this, but the age difference is too much. So we've been content to just be good friends.

"Don't worry, Robby, I'll be ok. There's always divorce."

He laughed. "Yes, well, next time I'm getting married, I'll give you a call. "

"And by then, I'll be older. And probably divorced too! It'll be perfect!"

More was said in our conversation than was put into words. With the length and closeness of the hug, the hand he put on my shoulders, and how happy we were to see each other. He loves me, and I love him - and, if the circumstances were different, we would very likely be in love. This conversation just solidified our feelings for each other. No romantic attraciton, but deeper than normal friendship - a connection and love that neither of us quite understand.

I emailed Doug.

He emailed me back.

I emailed him again.

I said that I didn't know if I wanted to be friends. I said that before I could make that decision, I needed to know/say some stuff. Which I did.

People that haven't grown up being completely honest with their relationships don't understand why I felt that I needed to talk to him. I am angry at him, and this is a problem. I don't believe in ignorning problems and silently fuming, or hoping that they go away. Issues aren't resolved by not talking about them. Maybe Doug and I will never have any kind of a relationship, but that isn't what this is about. This is about me getting over him once and for all, which I can't do if I'm still angry about it. I believe that honesty is the best way of going about things.

I wonder how he's going to respond to what I said.

As of Sepetember 16th, we are no longer allowed to wear flip flops or sneakers at work. Because summer is ending, we have to start "dressing up". So today I bought two pairs of new shoes.

I have nice feet, or so I've been told. And it's easy to find dainty little heels for a dress or whatnot. But when I need normal, every day shoes, that's when I have problems. Flats are "in style" now, so it was quite easy to find what I was looking for. The only difficulty is that I have tiny, narrow feet, and it's very hard to find shoes. Flats especially tend to be wider.

In the end I bought two pairs, one with sparkly things on them and one pointy toed pair. The pointy toed ones have a little tiny heel, which seems to work best for my high arch. They both are a little tight on my toes, but they'll stretch out. The problem will come if they stretch out too much, and then I can't wear them. I've never owned a pair of pointy toed shoes (or, as some people like to call them, "pizza feet"). I don't particularily like the style, but they look good with jeans.

Aside from the fact that almost no shoe fit properly, this whole shopping trip bugged me. I don't really like the shoes that I bought. I know that they will serve me well, and that I'll be happy that I bought them - but I don't actually like the look of the shoes. I've had to change my opinions on shoes to gain a certain look for work. So that I'll be acceptable to the dress code, and fit in with the Esprit "style". And I have slight issues with that.

Maybe I'm looking into it too much. They're just shoes. Really, Lisa. They're just shoes.

On another note, I feel lonely. I haven't been talking to my British friend very often as a result of my working and the eight hour time difference. Even his emails have been short and to the point. My life is going back to only being about work and tae kwon do. I never meant to get hung up on someone on the other side of the world, and in a sense I never did...but he has impacted my life in the short time he's been in it, and I miss his "presence".

I'm considering emailing Doug. I hate harbouring resentment towards a person. If there's a problem, I like to have it resolved. I'm not done getting over him, but I hate being angry whenever I think of him. Maybe if I email him this time, he'll respond.

I hate being in the "line" of BC girls he's been with. Although he and I had an extrmely deep relationship, more so than anyone else, other people can't see that. They don't realize that when he came up the last time, he came up to see me. Without me, he wouldn't have been able to come - and only a few people fully understand what I mean when I say that. If he lived here, we'd still be together.

It's just that no one (excluding a few) understands what we had. Few of my friends are even capable of having the depth of relationship that we shared. I'm not just one the girls. Or I wasn't, anyways. It's like if Jelena and Shaunn broke up, it would seem insufficient to reduce her to just an "ex". And I hate people minimizing it, minimizing me.

I don't miss Doug, I miss what we had. I wish I could find it with someone here. And as perfect as he was for me, there is someone even more perfect out there - and I don't even know how that's possible. And when I find them, I know it'll be worth the wait.

Is it really that difficult to write a semi-long, rambling email? Or is it a talent that not many people have? I've been blessed with it, one way or another - I can sit down and write an email for an hour, and at the end of it not have said anything of importance. It's when these emails don't get answered in the same fashion that disappoints me.

I have found my soulmate, in brown suede leather form. No, it's not the boots - but it is a jacket to match. A long, brown, suede jacket with buttons up the front, that goes down to a little above my knees. And it is classy, oh so classy. Words cannot describe how beautiul this jacket is.

Do I need a nice, classy, gorgeous jacket that will match absolutely everything?

No.

Am I going to buy it?

Potentially.

It's just so lovely. So not- teenagerish. And with a knee length skirt and my new boots, it's damn sexy. And I knew I shouldn't go in to try it on, I knew it. Same with my boots. Which I wore today, for the record. I changed between them and a pair of flip flops for my eight hour shift at work.

And everyone agreed that they are indeed fantastic boots.

I need to find a job that pays me more for doing less.

I love John Mayer.

If he walked up to me and asked me to marry him, I would ask him one question - whether or not he would sing to me at night.

If he said yes, than so would I.

We were meant to be. Some day, some how. Just you wait.

Sigh.

So at work we have this shirt.

This shirt, found in the men's section, is bright pink, with blue stripes.

And every person who works at the store likes the shirt, girls and guys. Everyone except me.

So, I figure I'll just come out and say it. I have issues with guys in pink. Especially bright pink.

Maybe I'm just stuck in the years where pink was a "girl colour", I don't know. But I've had several discussions with men about wearing pink as well. And, both young and old alike seem to agree - wearing pink is great.

I'm stuck. I can't adapt to this fashion trend. And I work in clothing retail. Whatever shall I do?

And we all know that if I don't have a sense of fashion, I really don't have anything. Because we all know that inward beauty is defined by what we wear.