Quotes From Movies That I like 3:42 PM

"You are who you love, not who loves you." - Donald Kaufman (Adaptation)

"There's an old joke - um... two elderly women are at a Catskill mountain resort, and one of 'em says, "Boy, the food at this place is really terrible." The other one says, "Yeah, I know; and such small portions." Well, that's essentially how I feel about life - full of loneliness, and misery, and suffering, and unhappiness, and it's all over much too quickly. The... the other important joke, for me, is one that's usually attributed to Groucho Marx; but, I think it appears originally in Freud's "Wit and Its Relation to the Unconscious," and it goes like this - I'm paraphrasing - um, "I would never want to belong to any club that would have someone like me for a member." That's the key joke of my adult life, in terms of my relationships with women." - Alvy Singer (Annie Hall)

"As the great Balzac once said, there goes another novel..." - Alvy Singer (Annie Hall)

"Mia: Don't you just love it when you come back from the bathroom and find your food waiting for you?"
"Vincent: We're lucky we got anything at all. I don't think Buddy Holly's much of a waiter." -Vincent and Mia (Pulp Fiction)

"After all, the wool from the black sheep is just as warm." - Sister Margaretta (Sound of Music)

"Oh. So that's puce."- Sulley (Monster's Inc.)

"Dr. Peter Venkman: This city is headed for a disaster of biblical proportions.
Mayor: What do you mean, "biblical"?
Dr Ray Stantz: What he means is Old Testament, Mr. Mayor, real wrath of God type stuff.
Dr. Peter Venkman: Exactly.
Dr Ray Stantz: Fire and brimstone coming down from the skies! Rivers and seas boiling!
Dr. Egon Spengler: Forty years of darkness! Earthquakes, volcanoes...
Winston Zeddemore: The dead rising from the grave!
Dr. Peter Venkman: Human sacrifice, dogs and cats living together... mass hysteria!
Mayor: All right, all right! I get the point!" - (Ghostbusters)


"Francis Fratelli: Tell us everything! Everything!
Chunk: Everything. OK! I'll talk! In third grade, I cheated on my history exam. In fourth grade, I stole my uncle Max's toupee and I glued it on my face when I was Moses in my Hebrew School play. In fifth grade, I knocked my sister Edie down the stairs and I blamed it on the dog... When my mom sent me to the summer camp for fat kids and then they served lunch I got nuts and I pigged out and they kicked me out... But the worst thing I ever done - I mixed a pot of fake puke at home and then I went to this movie theater, hid the puke in my jacket, climbed up to the balcony and then, t-t-then, I made a noise like this: hua-hua-hua-huaaaaaaa - and then I dumped it over the side, all over the people in the audience. And then, this was horrible, all the people started getting sick and throwing up all over each other. I never felt so bad in my entire life.
Jake Fratelli: I'm beginning to like this kid, Ma!
Mama Fratelli: Hit puree!" - (Goonies)

Steady Pt. 2 4:20 PM

So I am "home" from the hospital now. I feel a bit like I've been put through a fax machine and mailed to "home," but I'm feeling better than I was before. Much better. Which is a tad scary, because I get out of breath when I walk up the stairs...

I put "home" in quotations only because I am back at my Calgary home, not my real home where my family is in Vancouver. But what is the difference between a "real home" and a "sort of real home?" I only ask because I have a large number of "sort of real homes," that I love deeply. Joel and Jessy's, for example. My Grandma and Grandpa's house on Park Lane, too. I'll tell you more about Park Lane later, though.

Anyway, now that that's cleared up, and you know that I'm home and not dead I want to start this post by saying THANK YOU to everyone. I cannot honestly communicate how overwhelming it is to be in the hospital not knowing which way your health is going to go and all of a sudden you and your family are literally flooded by phone calls, texts, flowers, surprise gifts, in person visits, skype visits, cards, candy, rice crispies. These may seem like small things to all of you, but they are elephant in size when you're in a small room waiting to go into surgery.

Especially prayers.

I can't tell you how moved I was knowing the amount of people who were praying for me. I could write an entire novel on how powerful prayer is and how blessed it is to be abundantly prayed for (maybe I will one day), but for now, I'm just going to say that this part isn't about me thinking that I'm popular because so many people were praying on my behalf.

This is me saying that the prayer that happened is about you. Completely. It's about you responding to God's work in somebody's life - including yours - with ultimate conviction and faith in the fact that when you speak to God, he responds with nothing but open ears, outreaching hands, love, and compassion.

So I will say thank you for being you; thank you for being faithful.

I will also say I am proud to call you friends and family. I don't ever feel I can repay what I owe all of you (I guess that's the point of Grace, though, right?). So I'll just say this: "God Bless you in all that you encounter."

The second thing I wanted to share with you was something I've been thinking about since I've been back "home." Right now, "home" has become Grandma and Grandpa's on Park Lane here in Calgary.

Now I've never been someone who places too much emphasis or importance on geography, but I will say that for some reason, the idea of geography - as in a physical space where you sleep and eat and interact with people (what we would call home) - has become a huge comfort for me in this distressing time. Being in some place familiar has steadied me in way I didn't really think was possible.

I can honestly say that God picked me up and placed me here at Park Lane for a reason. All the memories that I have here have grounded me; put my shaky legs on firm ground where I can rest easy and think about the time when my three brothers and I were in diapers running around with our cousins and my brother Peter decided that he didn't need clothes anymore - including his diaper - and then, eventually decided that it would be most appropriate and efficient to relieve himself - including a substantial "bam bam" - on the kitchen floor in front of my parents, grandparents, and uncles and aunts as they sipped their pre-dinner gin and tonics.

I would pay a great deal of money to go back and time and witness that event...

The point I'm getting at here is this: where do you call home? What places keep your feet planted firmly on the ground when the world starts to spin? What people are in those places? Have you told them that you love them lately? Have you put your arm around them not because you have to, but because you want to? Have you made them a breakfast wrap and filled their glass with juice even though you were tired and would rather just throw a box of cereal at them and say "eat?" Have you asked them for help? Have you opened yourself to them and shared with them how you really feel? Have you let them open themselves up to you?

These are all questions that I have failed to ask myself before. But being home after being in the hospital, I've started asking myself these, and more, as much as humanly possible.

So ask yourself: where is this place and how can I get there? After you come up with an answer, or answers, find a way to get there sooner than later.

You can find a lot of beauty there. You can also find dusty books and art work; lumpy couches; hardwood floors; warm dens; real rugs from Persia; peace; quiet; love. Jesus.

Machines 2:55 PM

Expressed Thought: "You're a machine, to say the least."

Response: "It's the Spirit of Christ. Keeps me well oiled."