I can almost put my finger on it now

Now that is how to spend four days off.

Friday was a bit of a let down due to the monsoon that passed through Winnipeg. I had an appointment with the bank (met the lovely banking officer named Kurt who enjoys Starbucks, lists, travel and family, but alas, had a girlfriend. Would it have been inappropriate to ask him to direct me to the branch with the hot single men?). I am looking at possibly spending some big money in the next 12 months and I'd really like to get into the whole responsible adult thing of buying RRSPs and such. Oh look how our little Jillian has grown up, my oh my.

On Saturday afternoon I decided I wanted to cook. Not just cook, but cook for other people. So I started working on a plan to have my parents and my grandma over for dinner when I heard a loud knock at my door. Hoping that it was opportunity knocking I put aside my planning thoughts to open the door.

Behind door number one was an attractive young man who promised me he wasn't selling anything. Oh Lord, why do they tell such lies? I didn't see the Publishers Clearing House crew standing behind him so I figured I could safely assume he wasn't giving away anything either, at least not something I had any interest in. He was also wearing a wedding ring so I was already completely bored but let him do his spiel anyway. I don't like to slam doors in peoples' faces. They're just out there trying to make an honest dollar (well, quasi honest, since the opening line is always, "I'm not trying to sell you anything") so would it really do any harm to let them say their piece before I politely shoo them away?

I began to get quite tired of this guy after a good five minutes of nodding along and was hoping that he was on his way to wrapping up when he asked, "did I get you out of bed?"

Um, thanks dude. Now not only am I irritated by you taking up my time, but you have now drawn attention to the fact that my hair is messy, I'm not wearing any makeup, and my boredom is clearly showing. Good luck with that sell job now.

"The football game is on," I said, suddenly really wishing I could go check the score.

"Oh, yeah, I know. I wish I could be watching the game too, but I have to be out here," he smiled and then proceeded to continue with his "I'm not here to sell you anything" sales pitch for another five minutes. Actually, I'm guessing on all these windows of time. It felt like I stood there for twenty. I started to notice that his finger nails were disturbingly long. Perhaps they had grown in the time he had taken to try to convince me of the merits of his product.

I had lost my passion for cooking and entertaining for a while but I was happy to discover it all over again on Saturday night. I bought myself flowers at the same time that I picked up the ingredients. I like that I can make myself so happy.

On Sunday Lisa and I drove up to Gimli to see Judy and check out the Icelandic Festival. The day was lovely and Lisa said later that she really enjoyed herself, but I found that we spent most of the day waiting for something. When we got there we had to wait in line for the washrooms. Then we waited for Tonia and her friend, Britt, to join us. Then we waited in a line up to grab lunch. Then we sat on the grass and waited for a viking fight show to start. First, half of the fighters took their places and then we had to wait for the other troop to sail in from the lake in their viking "ship", dock the boat, possibly pose for pictures with tourists on the beach, and then join the rest of the show. The fight took about five minutes.

At one point during the day, while waiting for something I am sure, I browsed a jewelery kiosk set up on the main drag. I found a collection of mood rings that caught my eye. I suppose there isn't really anything more tacky than a mood ring, never mind the one that I picked up which had the word "LOVE" circled in the band. Something about it appealed to me though. Maybe it was the idea of having love wrapped around my finger or maybe it was the fact that when I put it on it immediately turned a deep royal purple, which, according to the key, meant I was actually "in love". It was four dollars so I made it mine. Who says you can't buy me love?

We walked the pier a bit. Britt wanted to go all the way to the end to take photos. The rest of us were not feeling into it and were ready to turn back.

"Maybe there is a pot of gold at the end of the pier," Tonia suggested with a smile.

"No," Lisa shook her head. "I've been to the end. Mostly there's just used condoms." I guess a few someones have found their own pots of gold out there, but I had a strong feeling that that was not the place to find mine.

More lines and waiting ensued and just when there was nothing left to stand for, it was time to go home.

And today? Today I let my mom talk me into buying another pair of shoes. They are for dancing in. I can hardly think of a good argument against buying a pair of shoes meant for dancing.

As I type my eye catches the ring on my finger. I have monitored it closely since putting it on, watching it change color from the blissfully happy color of love, to the uncertain yellow, green and orange hues of anxiety and mixed emotions. When I took it off last night before washing my face, I put it on the sink counter top and it turned black--which means "nothing" according to the key. Yes of course I know it is completely bogus. Still, it crossed my mind that perhaps I should have my next lover wear one. "Your lips say I love you, but the ring says fear, do we need to talk?"

In Canada engineer graduates receive their iron rings. According to Wikipedia, "The Ring is worn on the little finger of the working hand, where the facets act as a sharp reminder of obligation while the engineer works". For as long as I wear it (which may be a week or a month or so before I honestly get tired of wearing something on my finger again) my LOVE mood ring will serve to remind me to continue my personal pledge, my mission, to fill my days doing things in the name of love. I will think of this as I type out my words, prepare food or rest my head on my hands before sleep. Kasia sent me a link to an article she had found a while ago when I first committed myself to being a student of love. The article is titled, What would love do? It's a short article but the idea it proposes is simple enough. When going through your day, whatever it is that you are doing, try asking yourself, what would love do?

Love may crumble in apology, love may weep with humility and grace. She may run into burning buildings. He may genuflect.
Love knows what's best for every situation.
Love transcends policy and history.
Love innovates.
Love is everything we've been asking for.

I'm going to go make my lunch and then dance to sappy music in my pajamas in my living room now.

I am so happy.