My dear father-in-law sent me a link today to someone he called "Wow-full". As you know, that word is likely always going to catch my attention.
Perhaps you have already seen this viral video, but if not, let me just set it up for you a bit.
First, I'm going to back up a bit and explain why it made me weep both times I watched it this morning. Yes, I said "weep". No, I wasn't exaggerating.
If you've been reading here for awhile you will have read this post which will remind you of how much I love this song and all it implies and says to me and about me.
If you've been reading here even longer, then you will have read this post and will know how I struggle with "going all out" and just doing that thing that seems impossible, or unlikely, or unexpected for me.
Thus ends the preamble: Actually, I'm not even going to say anything about this video now. Just watch it and go back and read my linked posts up there if you want to see what I was thinking watching this lady and why I cried like a girl the whole time. Thanks Dad :-)
Thursday, April 16, 2009
Thursday, April 9, 2009
Dining Tables
We have two dining tables. One is a solid oak, Mennonite built behemoth, smooth and long, perfectly finished. It stretches out a mile to fit our family and friends with comfortable chairs to match. I love this table. It makes me feel like cooking a roast of something and inviting everyone I know to come and eat with my family. It deserves table runners, charger plates and a fantastic floral centerpiece. Love it.
We also have an old, scratched, cleverly designed, straight off the Boat from Holland, nearly antique, 2 chairs missing dining set. It is too small for our family, the chairs are very straight backed and not so comfy. It is currently in our bedroom as the "sit and have tea while working on your laptop" table.
But guess which table I love more?
That old Dutch beauty has a place in my heart. I love the story of Chris' grandparents buying it as their wedding set and storing it in the barn during the war. I love the idea of my mother-in-law's family using that table in a part of the world I may never see. The idea of meals shared, stories told, cups spilled on this table just warms my heart.
And yet, we now have it relegated to the bedroom where no one but my husband and I get to see it. Why?
Five years ago, when we had *only* four children, we began to find that the table was getting a bit squishy for all of us. We had the 4 matching chairs for the set and then 2 folding-card-table chairs around the table. It was a sight. We decided it would be easier, and more fun for the kids, if we set up the card table in the dining room too. So there would be two girls at the card table and then the other four of us at the 'big' table. It allowed for more elbow room and a bit nicer looking table.
One day, my dear April (it is always April), who was 3 at the time, was sitting at the card table, where I thought she would feel like a big girl, eating all by herself.
As the rest of us sat down to say grace and fill up plates, tears filled April's eyes. When I asked her what was wrong she let the flood gates open, saying, "I just don't feel like part of your family when I sit way over here."
"Way over here" was directly over my shoulder. I could put my hand on her leg from my seat. We held hands with her when we prayed. I passed her her food and drink as quickly as I did the other children, and yet because she was at the "wrong" table, she didn't feel like part of my family.
Needless to say, we, in very short order, used our Income Tax Refund to purchase the Mennonite Table that fits all of us in one place.
Which brings me to today: Maundy Thursday. Quite possibly the most meaningful day for me in the Easter Week. It is all about 'being at the same table'. It is all about 'feeling like family'.
Do you think the disciples appreciated the significance of that Last Supper? Jesus invited them to his table. He served them, ate with them, prayed with them, taught them. They shared a meal like a family, but so much more. He showed them how he was going to make it possible for them to be at his family's banquetting table forever.
And so tonight, as I go to church to celebrate this mysterious meal with my extended family, I will imagine all of us together at the 'big table' sharing a meal of immeasurable significance, uniting our hearts to each other, and to Christ.
How incredible is that? What a thought: that my Creator and my King would invite me to His table, to His family, to His Kingdom. With that as my focus, the rest of the weekend will be so much more powerful as I discover what great cost that invitation carried for Jesus. A simple invitation to eat with Him and sit at His table will cost Him his life.
We also have an old, scratched, cleverly designed, straight off the Boat from Holland, nearly antique, 2 chairs missing dining set. It is too small for our family, the chairs are very straight backed and not so comfy. It is currently in our bedroom as the "sit and have tea while working on your laptop" table.
But guess which table I love more?
That old Dutch beauty has a place in my heart. I love the story of Chris' grandparents buying it as their wedding set and storing it in the barn during the war. I love the idea of my mother-in-law's family using that table in a part of the world I may never see. The idea of meals shared, stories told, cups spilled on this table just warms my heart.
And yet, we now have it relegated to the bedroom where no one but my husband and I get to see it. Why?
Five years ago, when we had *only* four children, we began to find that the table was getting a bit squishy for all of us. We had the 4 matching chairs for the set and then 2 folding-card-table chairs around the table. It was a sight. We decided it would be easier, and more fun for the kids, if we set up the card table in the dining room too. So there would be two girls at the card table and then the other four of us at the 'big' table. It allowed for more elbow room and a bit nicer looking table.
One day, my dear April (it is always April), who was 3 at the time, was sitting at the card table, where I thought she would feel like a big girl, eating all by herself.
As the rest of us sat down to say grace and fill up plates, tears filled April's eyes. When I asked her what was wrong she let the flood gates open, saying, "I just don't feel like part of your family when I sit way over here."
"Way over here" was directly over my shoulder. I could put my hand on her leg from my seat. We held hands with her when we prayed. I passed her her food and drink as quickly as I did the other children, and yet because she was at the "wrong" table, she didn't feel like part of my family.
Needless to say, we, in very short order, used our Income Tax Refund to purchase the Mennonite Table that fits all of us in one place.
Which brings me to today: Maundy Thursday. Quite possibly the most meaningful day for me in the Easter Week. It is all about 'being at the same table'. It is all about 'feeling like family'.
Do you think the disciples appreciated the significance of that Last Supper? Jesus invited them to his table. He served them, ate with them, prayed with them, taught them. They shared a meal like a family, but so much more. He showed them how he was going to make it possible for them to be at his family's banquetting table forever.
And so tonight, as I go to church to celebrate this mysterious meal with my extended family, I will imagine all of us together at the 'big table' sharing a meal of immeasurable significance, uniting our hearts to each other, and to Christ.
How incredible is that? What a thought: that my Creator and my King would invite me to His table, to His family, to His Kingdom. With that as my focus, the rest of the weekend will be so much more powerful as I discover what great cost that invitation carried for Jesus. A simple invitation to eat with Him and sit at His table will cost Him his life.
Wednesday, April 8, 2009
Wow-ful Women Wednesdays
This video has nothing to do with what is going on this week in my life. I usually try to have things line up a bit. However, today is merely entertainment value. The lady is this video is thoroughly brilliant. That goes with out saying.
Gotta love Sarah Brightman. Could her eyes be any more gorgeous and expressive? But I posted this version of a well-known song for the surprise value. You'll never believe (at least I sure didn't) who she is dueting with...with whom she is dueting...whatever. He is equally amazing in a different way. It is a shock to me. Who knew?! And if you say to yourself "is that...? No it can't be..." it absolutely is! Brilliant!
Gotta love Sarah Brightman. Could her eyes be any more gorgeous and expressive? But I posted this version of a well-known song for the surprise value. You'll never believe (at least I sure didn't) who she is dueting with...with whom she is dueting...whatever. He is equally amazing in a different way. It is a shock to me. Who knew?! And if you say to yourself "is that...? No it can't be..." it absolutely is! Brilliant!
Tuesday, April 7, 2009
My favourite band
I've been asked a couple of times to post a video of something original I've written, or to post a video that I'm in. Well I thought today I'd post a video of the team I play with at church.
Now you can see why our building needs renovations:
Now you can see why our building needs renovations:
Friday, April 3, 2009
Heard at My House
Three Highly Adorable Things My Two Year Old Daughter says:
1) "Momma, I love you really good"
2) "Can we watch Sleeping Booty?"
3) "Somewhere over the rainbow, Wake Up High"
1) "Momma, I love you really good"
2) "Can we watch Sleeping Booty?"
3) "Somewhere over the rainbow, Wake Up High"
Wednesday, April 1, 2009
Wow-ful Women Wednesdays
Happy April Fools' Day!
April 1st always brings to mind T.S. Eliot's poem "The Waste Land" due to it's opening warning that "April is the cruelest month". I've always loved that poem. All of it. Even the "Shakespearean Rag" bit, which seems slightly out of place.
That poem always reminds me of my first year English prof at University. She told us we were not to called her "Mrs." anything, or "Professor" anything. She was a grad student, and we should call her by her first name: Romaine. Leave the lettuce jokes at home, she said.
She and I didn't always get along so well, and she nearly wrecked Eliot for me. I can't read the lines "Why do you never speak to me? Speak, speak" with out hearing her do her nagging wife routine, all nasal and bitter sounding. Shame, that. I liked that bit best until then, and heard it in an entirely different way until Ms. Romaine shared her perspective.
Regardless, she clearly left an impression on me, and she didn't fail me, even though she didn't like me much. Perhaps I was jealous of this lady who was doing what I always thought I'd do: be the cool English Prof at some cool University, sitting on tables and inviting my students to sit with me in the Grad Lounge someday.
But I digress:
The other thing that is coming to mind today because of "The Waste Land" and that class is the music I was listening to at the time. I had of course just been done with High School where a cool guy I knew introduced me to Kate Bush. Then in first year English class a different cool guy introduced me to the old Kate Bush stuff.
And so, I am posting Kate today. But I had to pick a newish one. I decided on Don't Give Up, the excellent duet with the highly excellent Peter Gabriel...sigh. I was going to post "Wuthering Heights" but that is a seriously weird video. Not to mention what I used to think was an etheral and romantic vocal effort on that track sounded way more screechy and piercing this morning.
So in an effort to not be too weird, I'm posting this lovely duet. Mind you my kids were all "Who wants to hug for 6 minutes and 13 seconds with out stopping? That's weird." and "Are they married? Because seriously, who hugs someone who isn't their husband for that long. Weird." Clearly my kids aren't all "physical touch and closeness" people.
Maybe Kate Bush is just plain weird. And maybe I am for liking her. Maybe you like her too.
Oh what the hay. Here is "Wuthering Heights" too. Just don't say I didn't warn you. (and someone should tell her to avoid the "dancing"....wow. Especially of note is the "speed skating move" at 1:42. Excellent. Okay, but true confessions, I still really do like this song. I'll be humming it all day!)
April 1st always brings to mind T.S. Eliot's poem "The Waste Land" due to it's opening warning that "April is the cruelest month". I've always loved that poem. All of it. Even the "Shakespearean Rag" bit, which seems slightly out of place.
That poem always reminds me of my first year English prof at University. She told us we were not to called her "Mrs." anything, or "Professor" anything. She was a grad student, and we should call her by her first name: Romaine. Leave the lettuce jokes at home, she said.
She and I didn't always get along so well, and she nearly wrecked Eliot for me. I can't read the lines "Why do you never speak to me? Speak, speak" with out hearing her do her nagging wife routine, all nasal and bitter sounding. Shame, that. I liked that bit best until then, and heard it in an entirely different way until Ms. Romaine shared her perspective.
Regardless, she clearly left an impression on me, and she didn't fail me, even though she didn't like me much. Perhaps I was jealous of this lady who was doing what I always thought I'd do: be the cool English Prof at some cool University, sitting on tables and inviting my students to sit with me in the Grad Lounge someday.
But I digress:
The other thing that is coming to mind today because of "The Waste Land" and that class is the music I was listening to at the time. I had of course just been done with High School where a cool guy I knew introduced me to Kate Bush. Then in first year English class a different cool guy introduced me to the old Kate Bush stuff.
And so, I am posting Kate today. But I had to pick a newish one. I decided on Don't Give Up, the excellent duet with the highly excellent Peter Gabriel...sigh. I was going to post "Wuthering Heights" but that is a seriously weird video. Not to mention what I used to think was an etheral and romantic vocal effort on that track sounded way more screechy and piercing this morning.
So in an effort to not be too weird, I'm posting this lovely duet. Mind you my kids were all "Who wants to hug for 6 minutes and 13 seconds with out stopping? That's weird." and "Are they married? Because seriously, who hugs someone who isn't their husband for that long. Weird." Clearly my kids aren't all "physical touch and closeness" people.
Maybe Kate Bush is just plain weird. And maybe I am for liking her. Maybe you like her too.
Oh what the hay. Here is "Wuthering Heights" too. Just don't say I didn't warn you. (and someone should tell her to avoid the "dancing"....wow. Especially of note is the "speed skating move" at 1:42. Excellent. Okay, but true confessions, I still really do like this song. I'll be humming it all day!)
Tuesday, March 31, 2009
Door Mats
How many times have you said, "You can't let people walk all over you"? Or have you heard someone caution you "Don't let your self become a door mat"?
I've been thinking a lot about this lately. And it isn't really all that fun. You see our pastor spoke on being Great in God's Kingdom. What does that look like? Like being a slave. Choosing to be that person who does with out expecting thanks, pay, reciprocation of any sort. Laying down your life. Dying to self. Saying no to me, so I can say yes to God.
You know, kind of like Christ.
This sounds lovely and admirable, until you try to apply it to your self.
Do I want to be the slave in my house? Yes. Absolutely.....
I mean, so long as someone notices my excellent slaveness and my unbelievable humility.
ooops.
It got me thinking, not only am I not to consider my self a well paid servant, but rather a potentially-taken-advantage-of slave; I should really think of myself as a door mat.
Use me. Walk on me. Give me your dirt and garbage. Let me be in a place where I'm sure to be ignored, overlooked, and beat up by the elements.
Now we are talking. I can get some Real Martyr Mileage out of that.
Oh, look at me. Laying here being used. I'm so slave-ish. sigh. It is hard being this self-sacrificing.
But consider that attitude? I've instantly removed any usefulness in the doormat. What if you walked up to a literal house, with a literal door mat that said on it:
Well, okay. I suppose you are welcome to come in. I was going to do something else, but whatever.
or
Sure, you can wipe your muddy boots on me. I'll just lay here and be dirty. Don't mind me (sigh)
Do you see what I mean? What we want to see on that mat is "Welcome" or "Come in to our home" or "Friends Gather Here" or any of those lovely, truly welcoming messages that speaks to the heart of the guest.
Which leads me to ask, what message am I sending out to my kids? To my husband? To my parents and inlaws? To my small group at church? To the people I serve with in music? To my neighbours?
Am I willingly, joyfully, honestly thrilled to serve? Or am I letting them know just how much they are putting me out with this favour but I'm going to bravely do it anyway just to show them the Love of Christ? Yuck. May the Lord forgive me for tainting the world's perception of His love like that.
I want to be the kind of person who really doesn't care for her own needs or desires. I used to always say with my husband that if all I care about are his needs then it frees him up to only care about mine. Then we both walk away feeling the joy of serving and the joy of being served. Not even sure that is totally the right motivation any more but it is sure better than the Pharisaical Trumpet Blowing I like to do some days (see Matt. 6:2).
I'm pretty sure that if I get this right, if we as Christians who love people get this right, then the world will never be the same. All eyes will turn to Christ. We must decrease; He must increase. (John 3:30).
Lord give me the heart and the attitude and the humility to say "I am an unworthy slave; I have only done that which I ought to have done" (Luke 17:7-10), and really mean it. Show me how to love what you love, and hate what you hate so that this all comes much easier. Show me the work You are doing in those around me and give me the courage to join in. Let me be like a door mat. Prone before You is always a good place to start anyway.
I've been thinking a lot about this lately. And it isn't really all that fun. You see our pastor spoke on being Great in God's Kingdom. What does that look like? Like being a slave. Choosing to be that person who does with out expecting thanks, pay, reciprocation of any sort. Laying down your life. Dying to self. Saying no to me, so I can say yes to God.
You know, kind of like Christ.
This sounds lovely and admirable, until you try to apply it to your self.
Do I want to be the slave in my house? Yes. Absolutely.....
I mean, so long as someone notices my excellent slaveness and my unbelievable humility.
ooops.
It got me thinking, not only am I not to consider my self a well paid servant, but rather a potentially-taken-advantage-of slave; I should really think of myself as a door mat.
Use me. Walk on me. Give me your dirt and garbage. Let me be in a place where I'm sure to be ignored, overlooked, and beat up by the elements.
Now we are talking. I can get some Real Martyr Mileage out of that.
Oh, look at me. Laying here being used. I'm so slave-ish. sigh. It is hard being this self-sacrificing.
But consider that attitude? I've instantly removed any usefulness in the doormat. What if you walked up to a literal house, with a literal door mat that said on it:
Well, okay. I suppose you are welcome to come in. I was going to do something else, but whatever.
or
Sure, you can wipe your muddy boots on me. I'll just lay here and be dirty. Don't mind me (sigh)
Do you see what I mean? What we want to see on that mat is "Welcome" or "Come in to our home" or "Friends Gather Here" or any of those lovely, truly welcoming messages that speaks to the heart of the guest.
Which leads me to ask, what message am I sending out to my kids? To my husband? To my parents and inlaws? To my small group at church? To the people I serve with in music? To my neighbours?
Am I willingly, joyfully, honestly thrilled to serve? Or am I letting them know just how much they are putting me out with this favour but I'm going to bravely do it anyway just to show them the Love of Christ? Yuck. May the Lord forgive me for tainting the world's perception of His love like that.
I want to be the kind of person who really doesn't care for her own needs or desires. I used to always say with my husband that if all I care about are his needs then it frees him up to only care about mine. Then we both walk away feeling the joy of serving and the joy of being served. Not even sure that is totally the right motivation any more but it is sure better than the Pharisaical Trumpet Blowing I like to do some days (see Matt. 6:2).
I'm pretty sure that if I get this right, if we as Christians who love people get this right, then the world will never be the same. All eyes will turn to Christ. We must decrease; He must increase. (John 3:30).
Lord give me the heart and the attitude and the humility to say "I am an unworthy slave; I have only done that which I ought to have done" (Luke 17:7-10), and really mean it. Show me how to love what you love, and hate what you hate so that this all comes much easier. Show me the work You are doing in those around me and give me the courage to join in. Let me be like a door mat. Prone before You is always a good place to start anyway.
Wednesday, March 18, 2009
Wow-ful "Women" Wednesdays
Note the Quotation marks...
So our house is for sale. Yahoo! And in a means of self-promotion I wanted to post this catchy little video all about our great house and what is so special about it and why you might want to buy it.
Plus the song mentions a wow-ful woman. Mother is pretty remarkable in here.
If this song doesn't stick in your head all day, you weren't listening. And if it doesn't make you smile, then maybe you weren't around in the 80's. Love.love.love this song.
So our house is for sale. Yahoo! And in a means of self-promotion I wanted to post this catchy little video all about our great house and what is so special about it and why you might want to buy it.
Plus the song mentions a wow-ful woman. Mother is pretty remarkable in here.
If this song doesn't stick in your head all day, you weren't listening. And if it doesn't make you smile, then maybe you weren't around in the 80's. Love.love.love this song.
Wednesday, March 11, 2009
Wow-ful Women Wednesdays
My last two evenings have been spent with some people I adore driving to the armpit of Ontario (or was that the....nevermind) to do some Vocal Artistry. It was likely the most profitable 7 hours I have spent since labour with my last baby.
I learned several things that will stick with me forever:
First: holding your tongue with a J-cloth feels really gross.
Second: I cannot give a massage and sing at the same time.
Third: There are 640 crayons in a 640 pack of crayons.
Fourth: Broccoli soup should never be that thick.
Fifth: I should never be allowed to sit between Kate and Tim ever.
But seriously, the training was excellent. In fact, our instructor was so good that after 7 hours of his techniques being taught, and after hearing him name-drop Rachael Lampa several times, I can now sing like this Wow-ful Woman. She is amazing! And now I am too! Just wait until you hear that my range has increased to match hers. It is simply astounding what I can do now! Who knew that by relaxing my laryngeal tension I could gain 2 octaves and look good in shiny pants like Rachael Lampa!
*snort*
All kidding aside, it was time extremely well-spent and I am more blown away than ever by the brilliance of God to create such an incredible instrument as the human voice. Now in Tim Carson's words, I need to get on to the vocal treadmill and get busy. Time for some serious workouts so I can be a good steward of the mite the Lord has given me. And if you ever get a chance to use his products, or see Tim Carson in person, please do. It will open your eyes to a whole new level of communicating through song.
I learned several things that will stick with me forever:
First: holding your tongue with a J-cloth feels really gross.
Second: I cannot give a massage and sing at the same time.
Third: There are 640 crayons in a 640 pack of crayons.
Fourth: Broccoli soup should never be that thick.
Fifth: I should never be allowed to sit between Kate and Tim ever.
But seriously, the training was excellent. In fact, our instructor was so good that after 7 hours of his techniques being taught, and after hearing him name-drop Rachael Lampa several times, I can now sing like this Wow-ful Woman. She is amazing! And now I am too! Just wait until you hear that my range has increased to match hers. It is simply astounding what I can do now! Who knew that by relaxing my laryngeal tension I could gain 2 octaves and look good in shiny pants like Rachael Lampa!
*snort*
All kidding aside, it was time extremely well-spent and I am more blown away than ever by the brilliance of God to create such an incredible instrument as the human voice. Now in Tim Carson's words, I need to get on to the vocal treadmill and get busy. Time for some serious workouts so I can be a good steward of the mite the Lord has given me. And if you ever get a chance to use his products, or see Tim Carson in person, please do. It will open your eyes to a whole new level of communicating through song.
Monday, March 9, 2009
Bonne Fete, ma soeur!
Today is my sister's birthday.
I was thinking about how much fun we used to have pretending we knew how to speak french. We'd be walking down the mall together and there would be a "don't you want to sign up for a Sears Card?" person approaching us, and Jacq would look at me and said "Et maintenant, nous commencons parler on francais". We figured if we were speaking french, or even kind of french, to each other that they would leave us alone.
We also tried to have "All French Days" at home, where we would try to only speak french all day. The problem with this was that I knew a lot of verbs that she didn't know, and neither of us had a great accent. So trying to understand each other's quirks took some getting used to.
But in the midst of all this, we fell in love with Edith Piaf. Particularly this song. (by the way, I should say that despite taking French into University, I still credit Mme. Piaf and "Michelle, ma Belle" by the Beatles as the bulk of my language studies".
The funny memory I have of this song is when my sister decided that Edith must be anorexic because of a line in the song that Jacq thought said "I have eaten nothing". I still smile thinking of that.
So without further ado, Happy Birthday Sis. Je Ne Regrette Rien.
Non Je Ne Regrette RienNon, Rien De Rien, Non, Je Ne Regrette Rien
Ni Le Bien Qu`on M`a Fait, Ni Le Mal
Tout Ca M`est Bien Egal
Non, Rien De Rien, Non, Je Ne Regrette Rien
C`est Paye, Balaye, Oublie, Je Me Fous Du Passe
Avec Mes Souvenirs J`ai Allume Le Feu
Mes Shagrins, Mes Plaisirs,
Je N`ai Plus Besoin D`eux
Balaye Les Amours Avec Leurs Tremolos
Balaye Pour Toujours
Je Reparas A Zero (This is the anorexia line: she thought it said "Je repas a Zero"... as in "I had zero meals". Love that.)
Non, Rien De Rien, Non, Je Ne Regrette Rien
Ni Le Bien Qu`on M`a Fait, Ni Le Mal
Tout Ca M`est Bien Egal
Non, Rien De Rien, Non, Je Ne Regrette Rien
Car Ma Vie, Car Me Joies
Aujourd`hui Ca Commence Avec Toi
I was thinking about how much fun we used to have pretending we knew how to speak french. We'd be walking down the mall together and there would be a "don't you want to sign up for a Sears Card?" person approaching us, and Jacq would look at me and said "Et maintenant, nous commencons parler on francais". We figured if we were speaking french, or even kind of french, to each other that they would leave us alone.
We also tried to have "All French Days" at home, where we would try to only speak french all day. The problem with this was that I knew a lot of verbs that she didn't know, and neither of us had a great accent. So trying to understand each other's quirks took some getting used to.
But in the midst of all this, we fell in love with Edith Piaf. Particularly this song. (by the way, I should say that despite taking French into University, I still credit Mme. Piaf and "Michelle, ma Belle" by the Beatles as the bulk of my language studies".
The funny memory I have of this song is when my sister decided that Edith must be anorexic because of a line in the song that Jacq thought said "I have eaten nothing". I still smile thinking of that.
So without further ado, Happy Birthday Sis. Je Ne Regrette Rien.
Non Je Ne Regrette RienNon, Rien De Rien, Non, Je Ne Regrette Rien
Ni Le Bien Qu`on M`a Fait, Ni Le Mal
Tout Ca M`est Bien Egal
Non, Rien De Rien, Non, Je Ne Regrette Rien
C`est Paye, Balaye, Oublie, Je Me Fous Du Passe
Avec Mes Souvenirs J`ai Allume Le Feu
Mes Shagrins, Mes Plaisirs,
Je N`ai Plus Besoin D`eux
Balaye Les Amours Avec Leurs Tremolos
Balaye Pour Toujours
Je Reparas A Zero (This is the anorexia line: she thought it said "Je repas a Zero"... as in "I had zero meals". Love that.)
Non, Rien De Rien, Non, Je Ne Regrette Rien
Ni Le Bien Qu`on M`a Fait, Ni Le Mal
Tout Ca M`est Bien Egal
Non, Rien De Rien, Non, Je Ne Regrette Rien
Car Ma Vie, Car Me Joies
Aujourd`hui Ca Commence Avec Toi
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