Friday, January 1, 2016


LIKE IT’S 1999
Diary of a Teenager
in Love with a Teacher

Giselle Renarde

A thought occurred to me today. It came in the form of a little voice that said, “Write it!”

Another voice—the clarifying voice—then asked, “Don’t you mean ‘Paint it’?”

Again, the first voice said, “Write it!”

At the time, I was thinking about a letter I have yet to receive, and one of my dreams started making more sense. This dream:


Dream: Birthday Card from Oprah!

-This dream is about a birthday card from Oprah, hence the name.
-she and I are friends
-Oprah gives me a birthday card covered in blue writing
-I am delighted at receiving this card, but I don’t read it
-the card is in my hand and I think to myself, “I really wish I had read that card!” but I still don’t
-The blue writing, although printed directly on the card, is a personal message from Oprah
-her name is signed in black pen, along with a little message I also don’t read

I am now able to apply the Oprah Birthday Card dream to my life. You see, the reason I don’t read the card is not because I don’t want to, but because I don’t have it yet.

Patiently (LIE!), I await my second missive from Lawrence. He’s away from the city, visiting his in-laws, but in the first (rather dull) letter he sent me he promised another was soon to follow. I have a strong sense that this second letter has already been written, and perhaps even sent, but because of the time restraints the world has placed on us I cannot yet read it. Now I sit with the anxiety of waiting for something that is sure to happen—and soon. But when?

In the dream, I know Oprah’s card exists because I’m holding it in my hand, but I can’t read it because it’s not really here yet. It will come… in time.

Beyond this place, there is no time. Time is something we must deal with because we are human. Without time, though, the wonderment of Earthly living would be decreased. With time, I can only guess as to how the story ends… or begins.

Months ago, Christie said to me, “You’re waiting for the day your mum says, ‘That’s it, Giselle; get out of this house!’”

Today was the day. Of course, my mother’s words were more along the lines of, “I wish you would move out,” in her “pity me, I’m so weak” voice. (This is a judgement; I own it.)

Funny that the problem and the solution should be found in one person…


Today’s mantra: I refuse all fear and all worry, for I stand in the Grace of God.


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