Some things feel so good to get out.
And some things
feel even better.

Reading.

I woke up the other day ready for Spring.  And I don’t mean ready as in prepared, I mean ready as in all of a sudden completely finished with Winter.  I’m finished with long sleeved, dark coloured shirts and think high socks.  (No matter how cute they are.)  I’m finished with constantly ensuring I have Kleenex in my pocket for when the cold air makes me nose run.  I’m finished with salty shoes and the inevitable mess on the floor in the doorway.  I’m finished with wearing a sweater and a coat every day. 

And I’m ready for flowers, for leaves on the trees, for wanting to walk outside, rather than take the tunnels to class.  I’m ready for Spring and Summer foods.  I’m ready for school to be done.

Really, I woke up yesterday perfectly primed for a lesson in patience and perseverance.  Because as ready as I may be for no more Winter, Winter isn’t ready for no more Jennifer. 

Despite my sudden desire for it to be gone, the last few weeks have been filled with really wonderful winter adventures, and up to this point, I genuinely have enjoyed the snow, ice, and crisp (sometimes frigid) air.   Midterms quickly took over from the excitement of Valentines day, and filled the last remaining week of school before the much anticipated “reading” break.  With Amber and Rachael both being gone for the weekend again, I was left with the apartment to myself.  And it was sooooooo nice to spend the first few days sitting out the couch painting while watching movies, or just playing the guitar or piano for hours.   By Tuesday night though, I was getting a littttttle crazy, but luckily I was leaving on Wednesday to go to Montreal to see Hannah!

Montreal is beautiful! Unfortunately, I left my camera in Hannah's lovely apartment on the first day, which was of course the most beautiful day of my little trip there.  So I didn't take pictures of the old buildings and the blue sky, or of the ridiculously specific signs I laughed at, or of any of the monkeys, sea anemones, penguins or birds we saw at the Biodome.  As much as I'd like those pictures now, it was kind of nice just to look and see, without my camera constantly in my hand, and without worrying about which setting would best capture the image.  We made a lovely dinner, and some delicious, pink cake which definitely looked EXACTLY like a dirty dish sponge, and spent lots of time catching up.  We also went skating at lac au castors, and walked through Old Montreal, stopping at the most fitting place possible for lunch (not) - MacDonalds.  I was sad to leave on Friday morning! 

Sam and Lane met me at the greyhound station back in Ottawa, and we spent the afternoon baking cookies for the GYG, and just hanging out on the kitchen floor.  Such a great start to what turned out to be a really amazing weekend.  Some of the highlights? Finally making the giant pot of chili I've been wanting since October.  Skating the entire canal, of course with a stop for a beavertail along the way.  Hiding under an magical invisible umbrella which protected me from imaginary rain while a gust of wind carried me and the little kid who I was playing with around the church, listening to him laughing and laughing with him.  Building a fort with Sam in his living room, and watching movies inside of it while eating spoonfuls of peanut butter covered in sugar.  And finally seeing both of my roommates at home on Sunday night!

February has come and gone, and even though I haven't done nearly as much reading for school as I should have been, I think I would say that I've spent most of the month reading.  Reading myself.  Reading my actions.  Reading situations.  Reading others.  I remember many nights throughout my life when I made the mistake of going to bed with a good book.  As my eyes began to sting from reading so late, and my head began to rush with the realization of how soon the morning was coming, I would always find myself frantically turning pages, desperate to know what was coming next.  What was going to happen to the characters,  how the conflict would be resolved.  When is the happy ending? I'd rapidly soak in everything that was happening, racing through events and emotions and descriptions, and I couldn't stop until the chapter - more often the book - was finished.  I feel like that's been my life this month.  I've been trying to figure out what's going on with my emotions.  I've been trying to figure out how how to balance school with my other commitments and my social life.  It's been an exciting chapter - but I'm anxious for the end, and frustrated that unlike my younger self, ducking under my Thomas the Tank Engine blanket with a flashlight between my shoulder and my pillow, and my fingers clinging to the cover of a beloved book, I can't just flip ahead and see how many more pages it is until I know.

7?

30?

365? 

Sometimes it makes the book more exciting.  It makes every action more spontaneous.  It makes the surprises mores surprising, the let-downs more disappointing.  And sometimes, it just drives me crazy!!