Thursday, December 9, 2010

the: holiday, book challenge, hero meeting, update

Hey, it's December! I'm back!
Ok, not back-back. But pushing through this blogger anxiety for a moment to jump in and write a bit. I've been all over the map. not literally, but mentally for sure. fine then not, excited then comatose, busy busy busy then dead. this fall I've been working 3 totally unrelated jobs. this means gardening and building shrub covers one day, putting up christmas decorations in atriums all over downtown buildings the next, then running to a film festival to work the evening. again, a life of many many hats. Have I mentioned how I have an acute and lasting case of the Novembers? That *omg I can't believe I have to live through another Canadian winter and it's dark and every thing's dead and it's going to go one for MONTHS* feeling? Yah. Bigtime. Luckily I was so busy with the other 3 gigs that I didn't really have that much time to notice. It was a busy and exciting fall for me.
So here we are, coming up to mid December. A mixed-bag of emotions for many, this time of year. I am no exception. My mother's house has been vomited upon by the bug of the Season for a month now. She loves her some decorating. After decorating buildings around town for a couple of weeks a girl can only resist the holiday season joy so long without jumping in hands waving, leading the conga line. An ornament exchange never hurts either. So, I got into It. I decided to unpack my tree and go through decorations and get this place looking at least semi-festive. I pulled out my great-grandmother's cardboard village houses for the first time in years. So delicate and simple. I love them. I found a small reminder of my past in there. my family. of Before. a trigger. a teenie tiny die cast miniature of a car we had, hand-painted white by my mom no doubt, to represent ours. a white convertible. i hated and loved that car. for many reasons. and there it was, in the bottom of 30 year old Laura Secord boxes. jabbing me in the chest and transporting me to the past. bam. so yah. that stuff still grabs. I imagine everyone has their stuff grabbed at by the past this time of year. so a fist bump to you. this too shall pass.
The 52 books in 52 weeks challenge I inflicted upon myself in January is still in full swing. I have to read 8 books in 22 days to meet my goal, but I'm optimistic. It gets dark at 4pm right now. Reading, is like, number 2 on my preferred activities roster. Second only to napping. It could happen. I'm also debating on counting the two books that I read 150 pages of and tossed aside in anger in frustration. My tendency is to say they don't count, but then again, they do. Meh. Details. Still reading, still loving it.
This past week I went to see my hero Rt. LGen Romeo Dallaire speak about his new initiative to abolish the use of child soldiers. My superfriend Kez and I scoped out the book signing area and seated ourselves in the 2nd row, closest to that table as possible. Success! When he walked into the room, 5 feet from where we were sitting, and I saw him with my own two eyes, I gasped. There he was. Witness of all witnesses. A man who wrestles with his demons daily and still will not stop. Not stop fighting for the rights of children, of people. People others announced to him were and are worthless. He continues. And I met him. I met him. I met him. I met him. I just had to keep typing that for some reason. To make it real. I was third in line to have my book signed. Yup, that girl. I hid under my baseball hat, books in hand. He looked up at me. He Looked AT Me. With those steel blue eyes that have seen so much. I gasped again. He commented on my wonderful taste in reading, and I mumbled something about how wonderful they, his words, are in reply, with a chuckle. Then, I took a breath and I said it: You are my hero. He chuckled a humble, Thank You, and asked me my name, I played with my scarf, and told him. I watched as he wrote my name out. Keeley. My name. With his hand. The same hand, I imagined, that held the phone to tell the world what was happening in Rwanda. Gasp. He signed my books while asking what brought me there, what I study. I told him I have a degree in Anthropology and am interested in studying Human Rights. He replied with a booming "Excellent! You need to USE that Anthropology degree!" THAT was a first. I had never had such an enthusiastic response to my education choice. Squints and Oh's aplenty, never an Excellent! My hero was excited by my choice. I am fueled. I am reconsidering my choices. I am empowered, you could say, by a few small words. So yah, I met my hero last week. And as Robert Frost would say, That has made all the difference.
So that's what's up in crazytown. Shopping and cleaning and scheduling up the ying ying.
I hope you are all kicking away the blahs and if you can't today, there is always tomorrow. Hugs for everyone.


serenity said...

*hugs back*

wow it sounds like meeting mr Dallaire was as awesome as you hoped. how cool is that! lucky keel

glad that the holiday bug bit you, and that you are beating november blues away!

René said...

What an incredible honour. I hope you allow his words to be important to you. :)

So glad you're getting back into your blog. It sure can be hard sometimes.


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