"So anyone who claims that I am a dreamer who expects to transform hell into heaven is wrong. I have few illusions. But I feel a responsibility to work towards the things I consider good and right. I don't know whether I'll be able to change certain things for the better, or not at all. Both outcomes are possible. There is only one thing I will not concede: that it might be meaningless to strive in a good cause."

"How you gonna change the world when you're stuck on a shelf?"

"Does it piss you off? Does it just piss you off?" - Me
"Yes. It's hard to know what to do. I want to go back there, my dream is that it will stop. But it's the politics." - Him

It's like... sometimes you feel paralyzed, immobilized... because you know that you aren't going to make a big difference, no matter what you do or how hard your work, or how much you believe in something. Kind of a "what's the point of doing this?" sort of night.

No one who reads this DOESN'T know that I'm involved in planning an event to raise money and awareness for genocide in Africa. We've hit speedbump after roadblock after brickwall, and I have had so many moments of doubt. Why would God lead me in this direction, only to make it so, so difficult? It's hard to keep yourself from wondering if maybe you got the wrong message. I tend to get caught up in what my intentions are, and I have this line of thinking where God will punish me if I act on the wrong good intentions, even if the outcome is also good. Creates a lot of inner turmoil, and I tend to overanalyze.

I was at work, seriously pondering, and was about to ask Nicole why God was toying with me. Then, less than a minute later, a man from Darfur walked in. We talked, shared our frustration, encouraged one another. It was very, very cool. He had a big smile and an easy laugh. And dreams. And a heart beat. And a soul. My gosh, why do we live as though some people are expendible? People are not expendible. Africans are not expendible.

I think that's all I have to say for now... nothing else is really coming out coherent. I was trying to go somewhere with all of this, but it's not happening. Maybe it's the paralysis. Haha.



ps - my dog is the cutest dog in the entire world and i love her so much that it's almost embarrassing. she's currently sleeping in my laundry basket.

Words for thought.

"I think everyone has a moral compass. But at the end of the day, it doesn't seem to matter, because there is so much in place to prevent or deter us from acting on our principles... and that's really depressing."

I almost served a customer an

Urnex latte today.

And it wasn't even

on purpose!

Good thing I am not quite

dumb enough

to believe that steamed milk

is clear

or to think that it should

smell like burning.

Word of the day: nefarious

Tiny cousins:

This is Kingston, the newest member of the Furhmann clan. I met him last week for the first time.

Kyra Too Cute. She's a 30-year-old trapped in the body of a preschooler.

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It was quite the weekend. But before I forget:

A belated happy birthday to Trevor (the 7th), my friend, who inspires me.

A belated happy birthday to Kelly (the 8th), my sister, whom I love.

I went to the Failed, Failing and Fragile States conference Thursday, Friday, Saturday, and I realized that this is the sort of thing that makes me want to get up in the morning. English literature has never done that for me. There were some 35 speakers, ranging from the Brigadier-General in charge of the mission in Afghanistan, to a post-doctorate researcher specializing in diplomatic games during the Rwandan genocide, to Erin Baines from the Liu Institute, to representatives from the Canadian International Development Association, to an international lawyer specializing in Responsibility to Protect (R2P), to specialists on post-conflict economic recovery, profs from the Royal Military College, senior policy makers at CIDA, professors, researchers, directors, reporters, etc. etc.

I don't want to be dramatic and say that it changed my life, but I think it helped me to articulate something that's been developing in my heart and mind for a while now. I think this is what I want to do. What is "this"? I'm not entirely sure... I mean, look at all the options. Just THINKING about it makes me excited and scared in a good way.

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And then last night I almost got arrested. I kid you not. To make a long story short, I was put in a ridiculous situation and I am extremely unhappy. One highlight was being told by a cop that I am irresponsible, that I am setting a horrible example, and that I should be ashamed of myself.

Maybe it's because the rest of the weekend's wonderful goings on left me so charged up that all that energy has turned the other way, but I am still livid to the point that I can't talk to the people involved for fear that I will say something I regret. Or hit them in the head with a shovel. Something will need to be said, though. I've been used for far too long, and it is going to stop. Now. (See? Do you see how angry I still sound?)

I'm so tempted to name names and spill all, but that wouldn't be very stylish of me, now would it?

I would appreciate prayer... that God would give me the words HE wants spoken, and that he would fill me with courage, and love so that necessary conversation doesn't turn into confrontation.

----------

Peace out, yo.

Oi! It's like I've bitten off more than I can chew, and now I'm choking to death (on my own tongue)

(A typical week, keeping in mind that once I run out of space, post-its and receipts are stuck all over the place. And yes, the fuzziness is intentional; y'all don't want to know all the gory details.)

Crunch time came early this year.

I'll let you in on a little secret:



I might not be graduating in April.



Wow. Thinking those words in my head, saying them aloud, watching them appear on the screen.... it's a bit scary, and it sure does a number on my pride!!! Oh pride, you minx.

I've taken a number of steps to increase the likelihood of walking across the stage at the end of this semester. Ergo (I do not like that word, by the way... it sounds so pretentious), my e-presence will be diminishing significantly. At the very least, the daily blogging will decrease, the quarter-hourly email checking will be limited, the MSN has been deleted.*

So, really. If you want to know what's up or want to tell me what's been going on with you, email, or even better, call me. We can go for a walk, grab coffee, something like that. Chances are, I'd like to hear your voice anyway. (Quality, not quantity... and that's what THIS is... a lot of fluff and very little substance.) It's the hours and hours of time-wasting that need to be ass-kicked into oblivion, not friendships.

I gave up reading blogs for Lent and I realized that i don't know what's going on in half of my friends' lives... isn't that pathetic?

I've also realized I'm scared of calling people on the phone. Also very pathetic, and indicative of my e-bsession. I have to work on this.

Anyway. That was a bit disjointed :).

Tally-ho and all of that. Wish me luck?

- Sara


*Or rather, it will be when I go to sleep tonight :) Just covering my bases in case you catch me online in the next hour or so!!

In second year, a prof asked the class, "what the hell is going on in Sudan?" Over two years later, the question still looms.

If something catches your attention and you don't have paper handy, use your [severed?] hand as a canvas!

This looks INTERESTING.

And it continues...

... I think I'm turning into a philosophical pretzel-lady.

This is a wild kangaroo that I fed while I was staying with Hayley in Pambula. It ate my bread. I tried to pet it. Hayley and her brother Kris screamed at me not to touch it.

I've spent the morning getting tied up in philosophical knots. My brain hurts. If you need me, I'll be steaming milk at you-know-where.

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And a little more on silence: it's an integral part of the conversation, I am coming to understand.