... or someone else.
Lately I feel like Rosalee Futch. You know, the "Win a Date" girl.
I kinda like it.
Tuesday, May 29, 2007
Monday, May 28, 2007
Chapter Four
1990.
1. Hello Operator.
2. I'm cute (I hope that's not conceited... I don't even have control over it so whatever babee).
3. Fisher Price toys ruled my life. Are toys still as good these days? I think not. It's ALL about the kitchen set as shown above... what more do you need? Or... maybe you do need more and my parents gave me that to instill the Mennonite-cooking-housewife mentality into my subconscious... Hmm...
1. Hello Operator.
2. I'm cute (I hope that's not conceited... I don't even have control over it so whatever babee).
3. Fisher Price toys ruled my life. Are toys still as good these days? I think not. It's ALL about the kitchen set as shown above... what more do you need? Or... maybe you do need more and my parents gave me that to instill the Mennonite-cooking-housewife mentality into my subconscious... Hmm...
Saturday, May 26, 2007
Chapter Three
1989.
I've grown up camping. My parents have told me that my camping career began at an unripened age; two weeks old. There was nothing that could hold my mother back from camping on the May Long Weekend, 1987. You'd think if something were to stop someone from camping, post-birth recovery would do it. In my mother's case post-birth recovery was just half the battle. You see, after their accident (yours truly *curtsy*) they would make no more, that was certain. The decision to halt all future production of children was not enough, physical action had to be taken and this sent my mother into yet another surgery of, for lack of a more technical description, tube cutting. Ouch.
This is way off track.
The point is that my mom is, was, and always will be crazy... proven by the fact that she took me camping less then two weeks after
two major pain-inducing incidents in her life.
Now we're back on track.
As far back as my memory allows me, camping is a vivid image in my mind (yes just one image... just a snapshot). Yet, even where my memory doesn't perform, there are still photos to prove to me that my camping as a youngster goes further back than my recollection.
Oh camping.
Apparently also as a two year old I knew how to pee all by my own self. On a potty. On a personal port-a-potty even. Behind a trailer. Trashy. Trailer trash. Boo ya.
Camping. Potty trained. Good at life. Yee haw.
I've grown up camping. My parents have told me that my camping career began at an unripened age; two weeks old. There was nothing that could hold my mother back from camping on the May Long Weekend, 1987. You'd think if something were to stop someone from camping, post-birth recovery would do it. In my mother's case post-birth recovery was just half the battle. You see, after their accident (yours truly *curtsy*) they would make no more, that was certain. The decision to halt all future production of children was not enough, physical action had to be taken and this sent my mother into yet another surgery of, for lack of a more technical description, tube cutting. Ouch.
This is way off track.
The point is that my mom is, was, and always will be crazy... proven by the fact that she took me camping less then two weeks after
two major pain-inducing incidents in her life.Now we're back on track.
As far back as my memory allows me, camping is a vivid image in my mind (yes just one image... just a snapshot). Yet, even where my memory doesn't perform, there are still photos to prove to me that my camping as a youngster goes further back than my recollection.
Oh camping.
Apparently also as a two year old I knew how to pee all by my own self. On a potty. On a personal port-a-potty even. Behind a trailer. Trashy. Trailer trash. Boo ya.
Camping. Potty trained. Good at life. Yee haw.
Thursday, May 17, 2007
Chapter Two
1988.Having been alive for a full year and raging into my second with furor, I must have subconsciously (or consciously... who knows how babies work anyway) decided that I was way over due for a bad habit. Since today I am a fairly logical thinker, I'm sure I went through many different thought processes deliberating over which one to pick up. Apparently I liked germs, being slobbery, ruining my teeth, having wrinkled thumb skin, and not to mention, well... looking cute while doing a horrendous deed. Ignorantly enough, I seemed to have chosen a bad habit that would have terrible repercussions on my life in the years to come. Thumb-sucking. How terribly unfortunate.
Moving away from the negative aspects of my one year old status in the world, I'd say that a new friend is a pretty exciting ordeal. This friend may or may not have been in my life prior to my first birthday, however, I'm sure we only realized eachother existed within that first year. Right? Mmm. Lindsay Giesbrecht is her name and clappin
g was her game. Yeah, who really knows. So Allie, Lindsay, and myself became the three muskateers at Burrows Bethel Church, thanks to our mothers who were obviously in the same "Morning out for Moms" program at our home church. We had fun... rocking out in the free world together with almost equally fashionable pastel sweat suits.
g was her game. Yeah, who really knows. So Allie, Lindsay, and myself became the three muskateers at Burrows Bethel Church, thanks to our mothers who were obviously in the same "Morning out for Moms" program at our home church. We had fun... rocking out in the free world together with almost equally fashionable pastel sweat suits. 1 positive + 1 negative = 1 neutral year.
That about covers it.
Wednesday, May 16, 2007
Chapter One
It was Thursday evening, May 14th 1987 at approximately 7:15pm when my parents rudely interrupted my sisters and their Cosby show watching with an announcement. Groans were groaned, but slowly after ten shoes were put on and laced (or maybe velcro'd), the five Hieberts made their way outside. Hopping into the family station wagon bearing one over-sized mother, one anxious father, and three seriously annoyed sisters, they made their way to the hospital where a brief two hours later, there was a new name to be added to the Hiebert family tree... A female name at that, what a surprise! Although, it really was a surprise. You see, R and J didn't know that four years after the last girl they proudly produced yet another would enter their lives. A surprise child was I, although my mom swears it was a pleasant one. So Vanessa Ruth, me, entered the world as seven pounds of humanity with big blue eyes, red skin, and a couple strands of dark hair. The world would never be the same again.
In my first year of life I was the center of attention at 195 Emerson Avenue. My sisters would race home from school every day, the prize for the win was being first to hold their novelty of a sister. I'm sure that wore off quickly. What didn't wear off quickly however, was an already blooming friendship before the age of one. My cousin, Alexandra, being born a mere 34 days before me was quickly nominated as my official life-long play date. Hooray!
Aside from learning how to be alive, I don't think that very much excitement, scandal, or drama took place in this first year of my life. Although, what could be more exciting or scandalous than sucking on a tit seven times a day? Yeah, that's what I thought...
Preface
Twenty whole years of life I've lived. I wouldn't say that's a short amount of time, however I don't want to give myself too much cred and say that I'm "miss experienced" in the life department.
In light of my recently celebrated birthday, I've spent some time thinking about my life; where I have come from, what I have seen, how I have changed, how I need to change, what I will do, and so on and so forth. Keeping these thoughts in mind, I've decided to display my life... in blog form. Hip hip hooray! If it is not for your interest's sake then solely for mine; this series of blogs will serve me well, make no mistake. Hopefully you or I will get to know me better through it, but if not even that... we'll both get to take a stroll through memory lane and look at some hilarious photos of none other then moi.
Without further notice... The Life and Times of Vanessa Ruth Hiebert.
In light of my recently celebrated birthday, I've spent some time thinking about my life; where I have come from, what I have seen, how I have changed, how I need to change, what I will do, and so on and so forth. Keeping these thoughts in mind, I've decided to display my life... in blog form. Hip hip hooray! If it is not for your interest's sake then solely for mine; this series of blogs will serve me well, make no mistake. Hopefully you or I will get to know me better through it, but if not even that... we'll both get to take a stroll through memory lane and look at some hilarious photos of none other then moi.
Without further notice... The Life and Times of Vanessa Ruth Hiebert.
Tuesday, May 15, 2007
Monday, May 14, 2007
May 14, 2007
My entrance into my 21st year of life was one of great celebration, laughter and love... for the most part.
I've never had one of those birthdays that you look back and say, "That was the best birthday I've ever had". So I guess that means I've just never had a really "killer" birthday. I don't know if 15 years down the road I'll look back with that sentiment towards my 20th birthday, however I do know that it was meaningful. No, fireworks didn't explode in the sky, my parents didn't spoil me with a car, and I didn't have a surprise party. What I did have, was all of my favorite friends doing something, in some way or another, to make my birthday... nice.
These were the best parts:
- My mom driving me to work in the morning (Even though it was definitely by default because I woke up after my bus left, but... let's just ignore the specifics).
- Continuous text messages throughout the day from various people sending birthday wishes.
- Flowers and lunch with a serious gentleman.
- A bouquet of balloons and a BFF (eff!) waiting for me at my door after work.
- Some more best friends trampling inside my house bearing gifts and love.
- Flowers from my biggest fan: Padre.
- Gelati with the fam.
- Moxies with all of my favorite friends, with a transfer to Finn's later in the evening.
All in all, my 20th birthday was a success. Love was given, drinks were bought, fun was had, sass was brought out (in excess... by yours truly...), and life was celebrated. Thanks to the lovely people in my life, May 14th was made special for me. Thanks guys :)
I've never had one of those birthdays that you look back and say, "That was the best birthday I've ever had". So I guess that means I've just never had a really "killer" birthday. I don't know if 15 years down the road I'll look back with that sentiment towards my 20th birthday, however I do know that it was meaningful. No, fireworks didn't explode in the sky, my parents didn't spoil me with a car, and I didn't have a surprise party. What I did have, was all of my favorite friends doing something, in some way or another, to make my birthday... nice.
These were the best parts:
- My mom driving me to work in the morning (Even though it was definitely by default because I woke up after my bus left, but... let's just ignore the specifics).
- Continuous text messages throughout the day from various people sending birthday wishes.
- Flowers and lunch with a serious gentleman.
- A bouquet of balloons and a BFF (eff!) waiting for me at my door after work.
- Some more best friends trampling inside my house bearing gifts and love.
- Flowers from my biggest fan: Padre.
- Gelati with the fam.
- Moxies with all of my favorite friends, with a transfer to Finn's later in the evening.
All in all, my 20th birthday was a success. Love was given, drinks were bought, fun was had, sass was brought out (in excess... by yours truly...), and life was celebrated. Thanks to the lovely people in my life, May 14th was made special for me. Thanks guys :)
Wednesday, May 2, 2007
Evangelistic breakthrough!
Over the past few months I've been getting somewhat downhearted in my own personal evangelism efforts in Winnipeg. I know that it's not about the numbers, but I haven't seen a salvation in over three months. More specifically, in the last couple of weeks my own attempts at bringing the good news to the streets have been failing miserably. I've been getting shot down like never before. I've come to a conclusion about this. It's my ability, or lack there of, to relate to every type of person; size, shape, ethnicity, social ranking, age or even gender. Despite the fact that my tactics have been broad and I have been extremely conscientious about my approach and cultural sensitivity as I speak with people yet, regrettably, all to no avail.
I've decided to brainstorm; make a list of new approaches. A list of possible gateways into the secular world.
After making a seemingly acceptable list, a list that encompassed a plethora of different people groups and strategies that had specific target, I still wasn't satisfied. There was still something that I was missing. Though my ideas were inventive, visionary and apostolic, they were not what I was looking for.
I needed a new angle. A big-picture game plan that would take me to the next level in my evangelistic endeavors. A method of delivering the gospel message in a fresh and new way; bringing a new scope of life in Christ to the streets of Winnipeg. It was with excitement and anticipation that I kept searching for the tool that I had been waiting for. My time spent with God was devoted almost completely to hearing from Him about the direction He wanted to take me in evangelism. I knew it was only a matter of time before I saw breakthrough.
It was during a casual trip to my local Christian book store that my mind was put to ease and breakthrough came... and oh did it come. As I took my copy of the newest Hillsong United CD to the check-out counter it was then that my eyes fell upon the answer to my prayers. My gaze was locked, my pupils dilated, hands sweaty, knees shaky. This answer was as good as the audible voice
of God. There, being overlooked by every customer, was the very means of transformation within the city of Winnipeg. Why had I not thought of this earlier!? It was only the single most brilliant manufactured item the Christian industry had pioneered for exactly the capacity that I was about to use it for! Testamints were my portal into the un-churched world.
These small, white, multi-flavored (peppermint, spearmint or berry... variety is always nice), pieces of chewy divinity were going to revolutionize the urban missions world as I knew it. Testamints are a flawless effort at relating with those who have not yet met Christ. They don't allow any exemptions of any type of person considering the fact that everyone has bad breath.
I left the bookstore with five boxes of Testamints under my arm and new ambition to save the lost. This was one effort that I knew would have a success story. Make way tract bearers, street preachers, soup kitchens and public healers... "Operation Testamint" is about to commence.
I've decided to brainstorm; make a list of new approaches. A list of possible gateways into the secular world.
After making a seemingly acceptable list, a list that encompassed a plethora of different people groups and strategies that had specific target, I still wasn't satisfied. There was still something that I was missing. Though my ideas were inventive, visionary and apostolic, they were not what I was looking for.
I needed a new angle. A big-picture game plan that would take me to the next level in my evangelistic endeavors. A method of delivering the gospel message in a fresh and new way; bringing a new scope of life in Christ to the streets of Winnipeg. It was with excitement and anticipation that I kept searching for the tool that I had been waiting for. My time spent with God was devoted almost completely to hearing from Him about the direction He wanted to take me in evangelism. I knew it was only a matter of time before I saw breakthrough.
It was during a casual trip to my local Christian book store that my mind was put to ease and breakthrough came... and oh did it come. As I took my copy of the newest Hillsong United CD to the check-out counter it was then that my eyes fell upon the answer to my prayers. My gaze was locked, my pupils dilated, hands sweaty, knees shaky. This answer was as good as the audible voice
of God. There, being overlooked by every customer, was the very means of transformation within the city of Winnipeg. Why had I not thought of this earlier!? It was only the single most brilliant manufactured item the Christian industry had pioneered for exactly the capacity that I was about to use it for! Testamints were my portal into the un-churched world.These small, white, multi-flavored (peppermint, spearmint or berry... variety is always nice), pieces of chewy divinity were going to revolutionize the urban missions world as I knew it. Testamints are a flawless effort at relating with those who have not yet met Christ. They don't allow any exemptions of any type of person considering the fact that everyone has bad breath.
I left the bookstore with five boxes of Testamints under my arm and new ambition to save the lost. This was one effort that I knew would have a success story. Make way tract bearers, street preachers, soup kitchens and public healers... "Operation Testamint" is about to commence.
Tuesday, May 1, 2007
If that ain't love then I don't know what love is
After hearing this song, Cupid's Chokehold, approximately five times par jour, I've decided to spend some time meditating on the lyrics. Doing some research, in order to solidify in my mind what I thought I was hearing (but really hoping I wasn't), I found there was more to this upbeat yet sentimental tune than I had, until now, perceived. I've got to admit I feel a little bit emotional every time I hear this song. The emotion being... anger? I think that's that's the closest description of my feelings towards it. Because I hate this song so much I have put together a short list of lines from it that are precisely why I feel this way.
1. Take a look at my girlfriend, she's the only one I got. Not much of a girlfriend, I never seem to get a lot.
Mmm... I thought he was talking about how in love he is and then pulls out secrets of their sex life, or lack there of... maybe not the best maneuver in winning her heart back?
2. We even got a secret handshake
A handshake?! It's for sure a done deal.
3. I love it when she calls my phone, she even got her own ringtone
If that ain't love then I don't know what love is.
4. And we can be on the phone for at least three hours not sayin' one word.
That's relationship building at it's finest... shoot me in the face; Three hours on the phone not even talking? The phone is bad enough as it is, why would you torture yourself for three hours in the first place... not to mention adding silence to the already bad situation. Blah.
5. And when I start to build my future she's the main component.
Holy dependency batman. Get your own life man.
Okay so the worst part is that in the middle of writing this, I was driving my car and this song came on and I actually turned up the volume. Can you believe it. I couldn't. I'm getting totally sucked into pop culture, not to mention my taste in music is apparently diminishing. Yuck.
On a positive note (and possibly redemption?), I bought the new feist album yesterday [the reminder] and I think I might have to follow the trends and post a proposal blog to her. She's amazing. End of story.
1. Take a look at my girlfriend, she's the only one I got. Not much of a girlfriend, I never seem to get a lot.
Mmm... I thought he was talking about how in love he is and then pulls out secrets of their sex life, or lack there of... maybe not the best maneuver in winning her heart back?
2. We even got a secret handshake
A handshake?! It's for sure a done deal.
3. I love it when she calls my phone, she even got her own ringtone
If that ain't love then I don't know what love is.
4. And we can be on the phone for at least three hours not sayin' one word.
That's relationship building at it's finest... shoot me in the face; Three hours on the phone not even talking? The phone is bad enough as it is, why would you torture yourself for three hours in the first place... not to mention adding silence to the already bad situation. Blah.
5. And when I start to build my future she's the main component.
Holy dependency batman. Get your own life man.
Okay so the worst part is that in the middle of writing this, I was driving my car and this song came on and I actually turned up the volume. Can you believe it. I couldn't. I'm getting totally sucked into pop culture, not to mention my taste in music is apparently diminishing. Yuck.
On a positive note (and possibly redemption?), I bought the new feist album yesterday [the reminder] and I think I might have to follow the trends and post a proposal blog to her. She's amazing. End of story.
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