White Daisies and a Lonesome Song

Remember when you were little and you wanted something so bad that you could have died? You whined and whined to your mother or father for that doll or action figure until they almost died. You talked and talked about the thing you wanted until you were blue in the face or until the person you were talking to hit you in the arm for talking so much about this thing you wanted. I remember that. 

I remember wanting and pleading and crying for my first Barbie after my mom took me to see her good friend who had daughters. My mom's friend let me play with her daughter's Barbies who had liked Barbies when they were little. My mom was against the whole Barbie fad just like any good feminist mother would be. I remember not relenting with my cries for the blond haired, blue-eyed, pink clothed lady. I also remember my mother not giving in to me. In fact she didn't until my lovely aunt gave me a Barbie for my birthday. My mother's plan was foiled and I was happy little girl. From then on, it was only downhill. As I grew older, my collection grew bigger and bigger. Some were given to me as presents, some were bought and some were hand-me-downs from friends. My collection grew so much that I had about twenty or thirty Barbies with dozens of outfit, a Ken doll, a Stacy doll, a Maxi doll, a pink cadillac and house with all the amenities included. Around grade seven or eight, it became less acceptable to play with Barbies so they were banished into the suitcase that they sit in now in the laundry room at home waiting for the next generation of girls to play with them.

I have not truly wanted many things in my adult life but when I have, I have felt like that little girl who wants the Barbie on the shelf in the toy store who has been told she can't have what she wants. And when I've been told no, I still whine and complain like I did when I was little albeit, maybe a little less veraciously and loudly. I have been feeling like that little girl a lot lately. Only now,  I understand the repercussions of these wants which I have thought were needs. 

At the beginning of the semester, I thought in my head that I needed to go to Camrose. It was an absolute must. Although the choice to go to Camrose was made way back in April, it only hit me that I had the actual possibility to live in this town away from my home. I didn't think of what I was leaving behind in Edmonton, which in reality is not much besides a house, pets, friends, family and weak ties to a university that I don't really like but, it is enough to miss. I say this sarcastically because all these things are so important in my life. It has been a lonely past three weeks. The one thing that I do about this place is I don't long to sleep in my own bed but to sleep at all. There is so much to do but so little time.

In my sixth year of university I am having my first experience living in residence. I now understand the appeal of going away from home for school. The past five years living at home, I have clearly missed out on the stuff that happens after 8pm on campus. In that respect Camrose has been great but it does have its down sides. I have only felt this lonely very few times in my life and it has only ever been when I have been with friends. I suppose it is because I am an introverted person and I find it hard to be myself when I am constantly bombarded with having to meet new people. I like sitting in my room reading or watching tv or surfing the internet. This is the time I get to recharge. I suppose I haven't felt like I have been recharging lately. 

This afternoon, I left my wallet in my car which I park at a friends. I had to walk to her house which is about a five minute walk from campus which isn't a big problem but when you're hungry for supper, it matters a great deal. It was not the actual act of leaving my wallet in the car that enraged me but a series of events that occurred in the last couple of days that fueled my bad mood. The wallet in the car was simply the last straw. So, after a fit of rage and perhaps some swearing, I went on a cold, snowy walk to pick up my wallet. As I came back to the school to go to dinner, I walked near the Faith and Life Chapel. I heard some people singing the Holden Evening Prayer service. This is a service I have partaken in many times in my life. So much so that I know it by heart. For a moment I thought, "This is what I need right now" but then, the other side of me told me to go straight to supper. I have some friends at this moment in time that don't believe going to church is cool. Perhaps when I was their age I agreed but now, at my age I don't care what others think. One thing I have realized as I have been living here is that I enjoy church and I don't feel ready for the week without doing something spiritual on the weekend or during the week.  

Tonight the Holden Evening Prayer side of me won out and not my stomach. It was just what I needed. I walked straight into the Chapel, which is not usually a thing I do because I am so shy. But I needed that time of solitude and singing to calm myself from the series misfortunate events that are perhaps not misfortunate for others but are perhaps only misfortunate for myself because  that are not what I want to hear.  So really, the worst thing that happened to me tonight is that I had to sit alone at supper in a crowded dining hall but that wasn't really that bad either. I am happy that I came to Camrose but I think I'll just need to give all the events of the last couple of days a little time to soak in. That is what I heard in the wind tonight.