for christmas, i bought erik the original score for "The Virgin Suicides," written and performed by the fabulous Air. it's been in my car since boxing day.
jeffrey eugenides is one of my favorite writers. the virgin suicides is in my top 5 list of favorite books. sofia coppola is one of my favorite filmmakers. the virgin suicides is in my top 5 list of favorite films. air is one of my favorite bands. the VS original score is now probably in my top 5 list of favorite albums.
it's seamless. fluid. beautiful. the pulsing undertones of the theme melody sneak into your blood, and before you know it, you're ready to let go of the steering wheel and float through the buildings and the neon signs and the brake lights in front of you. you're ready to be a movie dream sequence or a movie death sequence, where it's just beautiful photography, intense ethereal sounds, and you're flying or falling or crashing or sinking.
and, it's really just two main chords. one interval. back and forth.
genius.
the last track includes some key narration, verbatim from eugenides, slowed down and thus deepened to fit the steady pounding beat. the narrator is only known as the plural "we," a group of boys obsessed with the lisbon girls, the suicides, and just the need for something deeper and more beautiful than their lives beforehand.
i got home and stayed up until 2 or so, plowing through the book i've already read countless times. i couldn't get enough. the music - that interval - ran through my head as i read. i'm in love with the town, with the decade, with the dying trees, with the lisbon girls. but most of all, i'm in love with those boys across the street: the narrating "we." they're so innocent and broken at the same time. so real, so ripe, so expectant. they weren't cool. they weren't important. we know little about them except how they tell the lisbon sisters' story. and i'd say they're some of the best characters ever written.
it's not very often you find a book, a movie, and a score that don't fight each other. the whole package just owns me.
"It didn't matter in the end how old they had been, or that they were girls, but only that we had loved them, and that they hadn't heard us calling, still do not hear us, up here in the tree house with our thinning hair and soft bellies, calling them out of those rooms where they went to be alone for all time, alone in suicide, which is deeper than death, and where we will never find the pieces to put them back together."
i'm back at work, unfortunately. it took me a while to wake up today, mostly because my darling enabler husband and i stayed up late polishing off the season 1 Alias DVDs. we even re-watched the season finale complete with appearance-obsessed cast commentary (minus the lovely pasty white english-ish sark, sadly).
we're having a new years eve party at our humble abode. the last big cocktail party we threw was our engagement party in march. back when we just had a concrete slab in the living room and white patches of paint around the stairs. granted, we don't have much art on the walls, but our house is in significantly better shape now. and by "art," you know i don't mean expensive shit. but for some reason, we can't bring ourselves to put up those picasso prints i bought at the college vendor fairs with picasso's signature blown up and printed below the poster in the white space... so until we either a) make the big bucks, or b) make our own "art," (including filling fabulous frames with some of my photography and my sweet creative husband's painting) - we're stuck with blank walls. although we do have a giant beautiful, majestic yellow retro umbrella advertisement leaning on top of our CD library in the living room, a college graduation present courtesy of the sweet blake. i digress. so, party. we're looking forward to not only our First New Years as Married Folk, but also our First Carpet Cleaning as Married Folk. we have one tiny patch of carpet in our house, in the living room, thats just asking for some red wine.
erik and i have serious cabin fever. i think we may hit the mountains new years afternoon and stay there until sunday night. i just have a feeling all our favorite camping spots are charred. luckily, santa and baby jesus brought erik this book for christmas. it's time to find new favorites.
i hope the holidays were lovely and inspiring for you all.
[by julia 10:06 AM]
12.23.2003
fool of a took! don't go telling anyone, but i think i might have a little bit of a crush on a scottish hobbit. did you hear him sing? he was sostuart murdoch.
really, this pretty much tops my seventh grade crush on screech powers.
[by julia 9:40 AM]
12.22.2003
you know what i hate? slavery. my three favorite coworkers and i have a game we play at lunch. it's the "Make Someone Say..." game. two or more of us will conspire (read: whisper, or email ahead of time if we think of it) against the others. we pick a word, and try to make someone say it. which means we steer the conversation around that word. we've had "aluminum," and "cilantro" in the past, for example.
"so, do you guys like mexican food?" would totally work as a conversation-guiding question in a regular setting, but at this point, we're far too paranoid. to us, "so do you guys like mexican food?" results in "NO! it's a trap! don't answer!" responses. abrupt subject changes are always suspect.
on friday, we decided to spice things up a little. multi-word phrases, higher scores for high-syllable words, etc., etc... "prime number" was actually successful. it started with julia's "what did the zero say to the eight" joke, and then craig picked it up to say, "you know, we need more math jokes. with like, 3s and 5s and 7s..." before long, jackie said, excitedly, "oh yeah, like prime number jokes!" right as our other friend was leaning in to warn her about our obvious trap. she was too intoxicated by the fun math discussion to be suscpicious. that's pretty much why i love her so much.
however, there have been a few failures. "emancipation proclamation," while being the holy grail of syllable-based scoring, really didn't mesh well with everyone's standard lunch-time conversation boundaries. craig and i have vowed to make it work, though.
"so, how 'bout that abraham lincoln?"
[by julia 11:19 AM]
12.19.2003
bark recently, i discovered the fine and easy art of chocolate bark making. no really, it's far too easy. just don't tell the people who are getting homemade bark collections from me for christmas and host gifts.
on top of it being tasty, gourmet-looking, and easy, bark-making satiates my concoction/make-shit-up tendencies. so far, i've gone above and beyond the standard peppermint bark with a ginger bark and (my favorite) a chocolate orange bark. i have big plans for a caramel-nut bark.
also, there's always plenty of melted chocolate left at the bottom of the saucepan at the end. it's really a win-win endeavor. even if half of it ends up shattered on the kitchen floor (including under the fridge) the next morning, you still know you've enjoyed a few licks of warm, orangy dark chocolatey goodness.
the only downside to it is there's really no need for my majestic yellow kitchenaid stand mixer.
[by julia 9:39 AM]
12.17.2003
riveting.
i've had blogger eat posts before, but never The Best Post I've Ever Written, and never when i'd taken every precaution not to have blogger eat posts. apparently, blogger now eats your cut and paste memory from other programs. yay.
we are going to see Return of the King tonight! yay! the geek equilibrium is preserved.
i called in sick yesterday. today, now that i'm back at work, i'm actually sick. karma?
today, we're having an engineering department gift exchange. i bought the Office Space DVD. it's pretty funny (okay, it's not fucking funny at all) that today the printer decides to act up. and by "act up," i mean, "ruin everything and make everybody miserable." we're about ready to take it out back and beat the shit out of it. PC Load Letter? what the fuck?!
no really, it's that exact printer. the PC Load Letter one.
we finally listened to Over the Rhine's "Ohio" last night. wow. buttah.
and have i ever publically thanked matt and sarah grace for sending us the VINYL copy of "ohio"?? vinyl! beautiful.
i am needed at work. this feels fabulous, for the most part. unless you called in sick yesterday and you're now rushing around trying to put out yesterday's fires.
someday i'll rewrite what blogger stole from me. it was fun for me to write and reread a few times (not to rub it in). it was about the sweet old man who sits outside the coffee shop every morning, drinking coffee and chain smoking.
a line from Over the Rhine's "Cruel and Pretty" mentioned that she'll meet someone in the "backroads of heaven." this got me thinking about relationships. in whatever shape our afterlife takes, will we have relationships as we know them? will we meet people in the backroads? surely, everyone has to get along. it's heaven, for crying out loud. therefore, human relationships cannot exist. they're intrinsically flawed and never unconditional. also, what about old ladies who remarry after their husbands-of-50-years pass away? if we have interpersonal relationships, who will be her "husband" in the hereafter? there's no way it can happen. however, what is heavenly about not feeling that personal bond with someone else, idiosyncracies and all?
[by julia 9:40 AM]
12.15.2003
betrayal we just realized that erik and i mightn't get a chance to see the Return of the King until the day after opening day. this is a very dark moment for me.
at least two geek angels will lose their wings on wednesday.
[by julia 8:38 AM]
12.10.2003
christmas glow our first christmas tree:
i'm in love. it smells so lovely.
we're going to plant another one in its place (well, in its figurative place), so not all is lost.
[by julia 1:06 PM]
12.09.2003
real simple my ass i've been striving to simplify my life for years now. as of sunday, i'm taking it all seriously. erik and i are going to map out a game plan. no more of this "we could" business. "we could watch less TV." "we could eat out less." "we could live on less income." "we could have a smaller house." "we could make our food from scratch." etc., etc.
i want it to be "we are."
our society teaches us that simplifying is about making things easier. no. it's about making things better. case in point: the lovely matte-paged magazine "Real Simple." it tells us to simplify our lives by buying shit. buy such-and-such organizational system! buy such-and-such pre-packaged cookie dough to make cookies faster. buy such-and-such car to fit all the soccer balls and groceries and pottery barn bags!
i subscribed to real simple as a "charter member" their first year. since then, it has undoubtedly made my life more complex. like the many millions of (generally female) readers, i'm a bigger consumer, a better consumer, and i have higher expectations as a consumer. we sacrifice the quality of our lives so we can get more things done, and get them done faster and easier. it's real complex.
enough! the babysteps have begun. today, i called j.crew, asking them to remove me from their catalog lists (although, they'll put you back on the list the second you order anything, the bastards). next is pottery barn, crate & barrel, and anthropologie. sunday, i baked a huge casserole of whole wheat pasta, soymeatlessballs, and vegetables to feed me for lunch for the entire week. i told erik not to buy me anything for christmas. we're already on as many anti-direct marketing/junk mail lists as we can find. i only watch ER and alias, and those shows make my life feel very slow and boring, so that's a plus, no? i can keep watching? we don't have fancy cable. i try to keep my mind away from as much mind pollution as possible. i rarely listen to the radio, and when i do, i only listen to NPR.
other things i'm going to work on in the near future: instead of greedily buying new books (and sniffing the beautiful intoxicating new book smell), i'll go to the library. instead of buying the alias season 2 dvd box set, i'll rent it. this january, we'll plant some vegetables in the yard. we'll join the local organic co-op. we're going to start researching buddhism and (liberal) quakerism to try and expand our spiritual health and improve our relationships with god, christ, the world, and each other.
and maybe when erik gets a real job, we'll reduce our income ourselves, diverting what we don't need for college educations for our children, charities, and for when we might want a stay-at-home parent. but right now, we pretty much have exactly only what we need. which, in a way, is kind of nice.
and remind me to cancel my real simple subscription.
[by julia 4:27 PM]
12.08.2003
it looks a lot like engine oil, and tastes like being poor and small... i have to say that a good, wild time was had by all in new orleans. we spent some time on bourbon street, walking aimlessly and freezingly around the quarter, and also swung up to the garden district. a testament to my settled-down-i-ness, or maybe just my swankiness (let's vote for the latter): i loved the uptown nightlife much more than the bourbon street circus.
a smattering of nawLINS pictures:
Red Glow Really Fucking Exhausted My Flight Is In 5 Hours Julia, at a bar in uptown.
that drink cost 7 fucking dollars and 50 fucking cents.
cafe du monde.
drunk powdered sugar julia.
that one street.
oh, i love the night life.
city lights.
my friends. we felt like we were holding Party Pete (second from left. you know, the one with two drinks) back.
and that's all. and no, i didn't sleep much. lessons learned: a 30 hour weekend can be well spent in new orleans, and powdered sugar and drunkenness do not mix. well, technically, they do mix. and technically, it's pretty tasty and fun. (and profitable for the dry cleaner.)
nawleans! i'm going to new orleans tomorrow night. i've never been before, and i'm very much looking forward to every fibre of new orlean's being. the architecture, the nightlife, the 24 hour beignettes, the smelly streets...
i'm only going to be there for about 30 hours, so i might not sleep.
[by julia 11:04 AM]
12.02.2003
turned it was a clandestine relationship. a secret. looking back, i can't really pinpoint why we did that, but i'd guess it was mostly just to protect other people's feelings. we'd sneak around corners and into rooms to really and fully just be with each other. we'd drive up to his home town on weekends and stay with his parents and his sweet dog - i loved them - just to get away and not wonder who was watching if we held hands in public. he'd tuck me into his childhood bed and kiss me goodnight, leaving me surrounded by boyscout paraphernalia or whatever it all was while he slept somewhere else in the house.
he was one of the better romance-ers i had encountered - completely sweet and completely selfless - almost to a fault. also, changing the grammatical make-up of the word "romance" makes me think of the ridiculously cheesy and (therefore) ridiculously fabulous classic cinematic masterpiece, "romancing the stone." sorry.
i remember little details of the romance, though the big picture seems to have mostly eluded me. i remember the shape his lips took as he kissed me. the way he'd wrap his arms around me in his kitchen only to tell me that he loved the way i held my cup. it always touched me that someone would be so smitten by such a simple thing. i've since forced myself to stop holding my cup with both hands, so that i'd stop remembering those moments. it looks silly anyway.
i remember when we first made love, and how i almost wept for the beauty of the whole thing. it felt like the first time in my life that i was with someone who didn't just want sex, or didn't even just want me, it was a need. a need to just be as close to me as he possibly could and make me as happy as he possibly could. it was a bit intense for me, but i lapped it up. i was so alive. i don't think i ever shook that feeling, and i don't really think that's a bad thing. it changed me.
i remember the he way he'd cling to me as we fell asleep protected and cozy behind a makeshift fort of blankets in his dorm room, the magnolia soundtrack humming away in the background. it was as if he was afraid that if he let go, i'd get away.
if so, he was right.
we weren't together very long, as far as grand schemes go. don't ask me how long, i didn't count. but when i told him i couldn't be with him, we tried to still hang out - we tried to still see each other just as much. he told me that his mother had talked to him about how she broke up with his father several times, and that gave him hope. (and gave me a scosh of guilt.) i hadn't fallen out of love with him, i just made myself step away. god knows i didn't want to, but something was telling me that i needed to. i forced myself to break his heart, which fully broke my own.
it was one of those relationships with one of those people - it totally turns whatever cushy little world view you have upside down - it's even more drastic when it comes from someone so unassuming, so unexpected.
the world is a different place with two wounded people wandering aimlessly, neither really sure what happened but one of them knowing undeniably that life is better because of him and life is worse because of herself. momentarily, of course. momentarily. heartbreak is much more fleeting than being alive, stronger, more careful and, best of all, being changed.
[by julia 1:04 PM]
12.01.2003
unpublished i have just written my second post ever that i may not publish. however, this one isn't purely bad writing like the first one. granted, it might be.
it's just something personal and really raw. i'm not sure if i'm ready to see it in tidy little sans-serif lettering just yet.
12.30.2003
