plus size my ass!
no, my ass isn't plus size. well, who knows. i haven't measured it in a while, but that's not what this post is about.
i've been browsing online wedding dress designer sites recently and noticed a growing "plus size" selection. that's great... a lot of bridal gowns were designed with the painfully thin models in mind. however, the somewhat recent move towards plus size advertising taking shape right now hasn't been as kind to the concept of "plus size" as people may have intended.
somehow, a bunch of photographers and clothing manufacturers and businesspeople and marketing wizzes sat down together in a room with those glass water dispensers and maybe one of those space-age-looking conference call phones in the middle of the table to discuss how to market this stuff. still thinking they were doing the world a favor by letting un-waify women embrace their bodies and also get clothes that look good, they started trying to get models. perhaps someone even said, "we can't have an ugly fat person in our ads." of course. not all fat people are ugly. not all skinny people aren't ugly. fact of life. instead, they just decided not to get fat people altogether. now, we have these size 8 (EIGHT!) women modelling plus-size clothing. any minimal arm flab they may have is quickly erased on the computer image. and another thing: they aren't just called "models." we don't hear about Emme the model, we hear about Emme the Plus Size Model.
i can't stand it. rather than empowering women of all sizes to feel great about their bodies, they're just broadening the self-esteem gap. now us once-happy little size 8-ers are feeling pressure to remove ourselves from this category. instead of changing the way the media thinks about size (oh yeah, that'll be easy), we feel fat. we believe what they tell us. now we're plus size, and the only way to change that is to obsess about our bodies and get skinnier.
this is appalling, disheartening, and unbelievable.
12.27.2002
12.24.2002
music that rocked this year
inspired by our new annual cd-making tradition...
JULIA'S FAVORITE ALBUMS OF 2002!!!
1. ed harcourt, "here be monsters"
hands down, the most solid album of the year. a wonderful beautiful melodic man that definitely fills the jeff buckley void. i'd move to shanghai with you!
2. pete yorn, "musicforthemorningafter"
i should specify that i mean the release that included the bonus disc. that DID come out this year!! pete's cover of "new york serenade" chills me. i saw pete twice this spring, including a <10 person recording.
3. beth orton, "daybreaker"
represent. beth orton has been a solid "favorite" for the past 5 years. daybreaker is by far her least depressing CD, which is nice. i love the presence of ryan adams, the recording fiend.
4. elbow, "asleep in the back"
one of the most amazing new bands in the universe! this CD is so beautiful, so pounding, so charged. it's one of those rare fluid CDs where you can never remember song titles or track numbers because they don't matter.
5. doves, "the last broadcast"
although we had downloaded a few doves songs early on in their fame, we hopped on the bandwagon pretty late. this CD is beautiful. i especially love #9 and #12. some of the songs are a little "alternative punkish trendy radio" for me, but i don't mind skipping them.
6. jason mraz, "jason mraz"
the live stuff. the first release. the toca sessions. this is the jason mraz that the san diego hotties know, and this is the jason mraz that we like. special favorites are the cat sex song and the rand mcnalley song... nowhere to be found on his real release...
7. coldplay, "a rush of blood to the head"
coldplay is probably the newbestbandintheworld. move over U2. move over DMB. erik and i are just thankful for 2000 or-wheverer-it-was when we were mere steps from the gang at the tiny little mayan theatre show in LA...
8. norah jones, "come away with me"
nobody makes those "omigod i want that song played at my wedding" songs anymore... except for the lovely norah. this is one of those CDs that, upon hearing for the first time, you quickly inventory all the people in your life that need to hear it. scott and sarah! shawna! my dad! my dad?!
9. andy stochansky, "five star motel"
i'm really pleased with my discovery here. andy has the voice of an angel. well, an angel that rocks. and he's canadian! a canadian angel! i can't wait to see this guy make it big.
10. dar williams, "out there live"
calm down, i know this didn't come out this year. but it came to me this year. dar performs barfoot and is a hemp advocate...need i say more. one of many concerts shared this year with scott and sarah, our new musical soulmates :-)
11. jennifer knapp, "the way i am"
yes, this is an odd list. my "top 11." but jennifer knapp, second to jewel, really got me playing guitar and writing songs. this CD has some jewels of it's own on there. i love "sing mary, sing." an amazing song that puts the whole birth of christ thing in a really cool perspective. jennifer knapp rocks out a little too much in concerts for my liking, but her CDs are a nice mellowed balance.
i know i'm forgetting some good stuff, but that's what the edit feature is for.
music is one of the most important things in my life.
inspired by our new annual cd-making tradition...
JULIA'S FAVORITE ALBUMS OF 2002!!!
1. ed harcourt, "here be monsters"
hands down, the most solid album of the year. a wonderful beautiful melodic man that definitely fills the jeff buckley void. i'd move to shanghai with you!
2. pete yorn, "musicforthemorningafter"
i should specify that i mean the release that included the bonus disc. that DID come out this year!! pete's cover of "new york serenade" chills me. i saw pete twice this spring, including a <10 person recording.
3. beth orton, "daybreaker"
represent. beth orton has been a solid "favorite" for the past 5 years. daybreaker is by far her least depressing CD, which is nice. i love the presence of ryan adams, the recording fiend.
4. elbow, "asleep in the back"
one of the most amazing new bands in the universe! this CD is so beautiful, so pounding, so charged. it's one of those rare fluid CDs where you can never remember song titles or track numbers because they don't matter.
5. doves, "the last broadcast"
although we had downloaded a few doves songs early on in their fame, we hopped on the bandwagon pretty late. this CD is beautiful. i especially love #9 and #12. some of the songs are a little "alternative punkish trendy radio" for me, but i don't mind skipping them.
6. jason mraz, "jason mraz"
the live stuff. the first release. the toca sessions. this is the jason mraz that the san diego hotties know, and this is the jason mraz that we like. special favorites are the cat sex song and the rand mcnalley song... nowhere to be found on his real release...
7. coldplay, "a rush of blood to the head"
coldplay is probably the newbestbandintheworld. move over U2. move over DMB. erik and i are just thankful for 2000 or-wheverer-it-was when we were mere steps from the gang at the tiny little mayan theatre show in LA...
8. norah jones, "come away with me"
nobody makes those "omigod i want that song played at my wedding" songs anymore... except for the lovely norah. this is one of those CDs that, upon hearing for the first time, you quickly inventory all the people in your life that need to hear it. scott and sarah! shawna! my dad! my dad?!
9. andy stochansky, "five star motel"
i'm really pleased with my discovery here. andy has the voice of an angel. well, an angel that rocks. and he's canadian! a canadian angel! i can't wait to see this guy make it big.
10. dar williams, "out there live"
calm down, i know this didn't come out this year. but it came to me this year. dar performs barfoot and is a hemp advocate...need i say more. one of many concerts shared this year with scott and sarah, our new musical soulmates :-)
11. jennifer knapp, "the way i am"
yes, this is an odd list. my "top 11." but jennifer knapp, second to jewel, really got me playing guitar and writing songs. this CD has some jewels of it's own on there. i love "sing mary, sing." an amazing song that puts the whole birth of christ thing in a really cool perspective. jennifer knapp rocks out a little too much in concerts for my liking, but her CDs are a nice mellowed balance.
i know i'm forgetting some good stuff, but that's what the edit feature is for.
music is one of the most important things in my life.
12.21.2002
12.20.2002
that's an affirmative
so affirmative action and i have a love-hate relationship
here's why... the dawn of lists on jde blog:
HATE: it essentially departs from a quest for equality.
LOVE: it provides opportunities for those struggling out of decades of oppression.
HATE: everyone thinks it's the same thing as "equal opportunity" employment tactics.
LOVE: it gives poor unfortunate students a chance at the life reserved for rich smart kids.
HATE: employers are bound to practice affirmative action tactics if they have government contracts or customers.
LOVE: that companies are rejecting government contracts or customers to follow their own "equal opportunity" practices.
HATE: it gives the white male something to complain about.
LOVE: it gives the white male something to complain about.
all-in-all, i don't want to get rid of affirmative action. i think it should be instituted earlier in the education system - at the primary level. but if schools weren't funded based on the surrounding property taxes, we wouldn't have problems with under- or over-funding of schools, and that's a whole other blogstory.
so affirmative action and i have a love-hate relationship
here's why... the dawn of lists on jde blog:
HATE: it essentially departs from a quest for equality.
LOVE: it provides opportunities for those struggling out of decades of oppression.
HATE: everyone thinks it's the same thing as "equal opportunity" employment tactics.
LOVE: it gives poor unfortunate students a chance at the life reserved for rich smart kids.
HATE: employers are bound to practice affirmative action tactics if they have government contracts or customers.
LOVE: that companies are rejecting government contracts or customers to follow their own "equal opportunity" practices.
HATE: it gives the white male something to complain about.
LOVE: it gives the white male something to complain about.
all-in-all, i don't want to get rid of affirmative action. i think it should be instituted earlier in the education system - at the primary level. but if schools weren't funded based on the surrounding property taxes, we wouldn't have problems with under- or over-funding of schools, and that's a whole other blogstory.
12.18.2002
brandishing martyrdom
yesterday, i was supposed to play guitar and sing carols at the downtown jail. i've done it two years in a row, and it's always really strange for me. i feel like the whole experience is negative for me. i backed out.
each time we go in there, i feel like i should have an apologetic look on my face. i feel like a smug, rich, happy white person, rubbing in the fact that my life is perfect. i fear that the inmates just think "oh, we're so glad we provided the happy smug perfect girl an opportunity to feel better about herself." when we get to the women's floor, they always sing along, but they always cry, too. they CRY! not out of sheer appreciation for beautiful music (haha), but because they can't handle this glimpse of what they have denied themselves. i felt like i really needed to evaluate why i participated each year before i continued. i just firmly believe it's more about trying to martyr ourselves.
friday night, we'll be playing at the juvenile hall. i have a different feeling about that one. i feel like i won't so much be rubbing in my perfect happy christmasy life to the kids. i feel like i'll be giving them hope, and providing them with the love that they won't have in their lives. that's supposed to be the schtick for the adult prison, too, but there's no hope. the kids have more of an opportunity to stop the cycle and improve themselves. i'll have to see. this will be my first time going to juvenile hall..my first experience outside of cheesy 80s movies.
right now, i'm pretty good about making donations not to feel good about myself but to actually make a difference. i just didn't feel like it was the case with the prison thing.
yesterday, i was supposed to play guitar and sing carols at the downtown jail. i've done it two years in a row, and it's always really strange for me. i feel like the whole experience is negative for me. i backed out.
each time we go in there, i feel like i should have an apologetic look on my face. i feel like a smug, rich, happy white person, rubbing in the fact that my life is perfect. i fear that the inmates just think "oh, we're so glad we provided the happy smug perfect girl an opportunity to feel better about herself." when we get to the women's floor, they always sing along, but they always cry, too. they CRY! not out of sheer appreciation for beautiful music (haha), but because they can't handle this glimpse of what they have denied themselves. i felt like i really needed to evaluate why i participated each year before i continued. i just firmly believe it's more about trying to martyr ourselves.
friday night, we'll be playing at the juvenile hall. i have a different feeling about that one. i feel like i won't so much be rubbing in my perfect happy christmasy life to the kids. i feel like i'll be giving them hope, and providing them with the love that they won't have in their lives. that's supposed to be the schtick for the adult prison, too, but there's no hope. the kids have more of an opportunity to stop the cycle and improve themselves. i'll have to see. this will be my first time going to juvenile hall..my first experience outside of cheesy 80s movies.
right now, i'm pretty good about making donations not to feel good about myself but to actually make a difference. i just didn't feel like it was the case with the prison thing.
12.16.2002
welcome to the world, little one
today i met a brand new person. he is so precious. a beautiful string bean with his daddy's nose. i can't seem to remember a more magical moment than when i touched the palm of his tiny tiny hand with my contrastingly gigantic index finger and he clutched it in that way that babies clutch.
i used to think that we were drawn to babies and all-things-baby because we wanted some key member of the opposite sex to make some coy smile at us as we together envisioned our future in a little slide-show. ...the wedding will have a lemon cake and a swing band, and then we'll start trying to have babies and registering for baby stuff at target together... i know that has been the case for me.
but not now. seeing baby lucas today for the first time made me realize that there's no social implication or flirtation that can match the wonder of a brand new piece of life. a brand new human. hearing about the birth story (and watching mom and dad feed off of each other's excitement and finish each others' sentences!)... watching mom touch the baby's cheek... watching dad see the baby yawn, instinctively reach for the camera but stop as he just enjoyed his baby's developing personality with both eyes... helping put little mittens on the tiny hands (the mittens were too big, so they were outlawed)... it was all nothing short of miraculous. i started to envision luc as a 8 year old, or as a teenager. then it'd be normal. then it'd be understandable that this person was real. but today, a tiny, pink, wrinkly newborn just seemed beyond reality.
babies aren't just cute and dribbly and hiccupy and adorable. they're magnificent and full of wonder and awe.
today i met a brand new person. he is so precious. a beautiful string bean with his daddy's nose. i can't seem to remember a more magical moment than when i touched the palm of his tiny tiny hand with my contrastingly gigantic index finger and he clutched it in that way that babies clutch.
i used to think that we were drawn to babies and all-things-baby because we wanted some key member of the opposite sex to make some coy smile at us as we together envisioned our future in a little slide-show. ...the wedding will have a lemon cake and a swing band, and then we'll start trying to have babies and registering for baby stuff at target together... i know that has been the case for me.
but not now. seeing baby lucas today for the first time made me realize that there's no social implication or flirtation that can match the wonder of a brand new piece of life. a brand new human. hearing about the birth story (and watching mom and dad feed off of each other's excitement and finish each others' sentences!)... watching mom touch the baby's cheek... watching dad see the baby yawn, instinctively reach for the camera but stop as he just enjoyed his baby's developing personality with both eyes... helping put little mittens on the tiny hands (the mittens were too big, so they were outlawed)... it was all nothing short of miraculous. i started to envision luc as a 8 year old, or as a teenager. then it'd be normal. then it'd be understandable that this person was real. but today, a tiny, pink, wrinkly newborn just seemed beyond reality.
babies aren't just cute and dribbly and hiccupy and adorable. they're magnificent and full of wonder and awe.
12.10.2002
12.03.2002
12.02.2002
babies, weddings, and homeownership, oh my
seriously, it's happening. we're growing up. four or five sets of couples in our group own homes. everyone's getting married. yes, even myself. and now, there's going to be a baby. don't worry, not me. shawna, the amazingly gorgeous pregnant woman, is going to send forth a new ball of life on saturday, give or take 2 weeks.
as much as we're all (mostly shawna and her husband) afraid that this baby will change our dynamic and interfere with our usual community antics, i don't really forsee a noticeable change. well, except for the adorable little dribbler at whom we'll giggle and tickle and ooh-aah every once in a while. i think we'll just blend into all these new changes, but still have the same niches for those who haven't yet reached the major life-changing events, and who don't intend to anytime soon. i value this so much about my friends. i value that many of us are in such different walks of life. i cherish that while there are only a few who are walking along with me, everyone is holding my hand. i am so blessed to have this community that regardless of the changes, the departures, the arrivals, i will always have people who will hold the christ-light for me in the nighttime of my fear.
seriously, it's happening. we're growing up. four or five sets of couples in our group own homes. everyone's getting married. yes, even myself. and now, there's going to be a baby. don't worry, not me. shawna, the amazingly gorgeous pregnant woman, is going to send forth a new ball of life on saturday, give or take 2 weeks.
as much as we're all (mostly shawna and her husband) afraid that this baby will change our dynamic and interfere with our usual community antics, i don't really forsee a noticeable change. well, except for the adorable little dribbler at whom we'll giggle and tickle and ooh-aah every once in a while. i think we'll just blend into all these new changes, but still have the same niches for those who haven't yet reached the major life-changing events, and who don't intend to anytime soon. i value this so much about my friends. i value that many of us are in such different walks of life. i cherish that while there are only a few who are walking along with me, everyone is holding my hand. i am so blessed to have this community that regardless of the changes, the departures, the arrivals, i will always have people who will hold the christ-light for me in the nighttime of my fear.
11.26.2002
gust
the wind is blowing, the leaves are falling, pumpkin pies are baking, and grocery stores are packed. welcome to my favorite time of year.
however, i say that at the changing of every season. the first bird chirps of spring, the delicate morph of spring into summer, the long balmy evenings of late-summer's rendesvous with fall, and now, this peak of fall. other regions call this the beginning of winter, but we still have green leaves on the trees here in southern california. but really, it's not the seasons i love, it's the promises they bring at their onset. it's the hope of something fresh, something different.
i don't love fall. i love seasons. really, i love change.
the wind is blowing, the leaves are falling, pumpkin pies are baking, and grocery stores are packed. welcome to my favorite time of year.
however, i say that at the changing of every season. the first bird chirps of spring, the delicate morph of spring into summer, the long balmy evenings of late-summer's rendesvous with fall, and now, this peak of fall. other regions call this the beginning of winter, but we still have green leaves on the trees here in southern california. but really, it's not the seasons i love, it's the promises they bring at their onset. it's the hope of something fresh, something different.
i don't love fall. i love seasons. really, i love change.
11.19.2002
meteors
there must be another term for an indian summer when it stretches well into november. i feel trapped in a seasonal purgatory, unable to wear either pastel springy clothes or wooly snuggly fall ware... unable to feel anticipation for the holidays... unable to shake the feeling that the 4th of july was only a few weeks ago... unable to fathom the freezing rain and snow storms but a few states away. this time last year, we drove miles and miles east and braved sub 30° F temperatures in the middle of the night to watch the "last spectacular leonid meteor shower we'll see until almost a century from now." surreal. beautiful. freezing. west-bound traffic jams, 5am, sunday morning. hour long wait at denny's.
yesterday: no wait! this year is going to be even better! bundle up! head to the mountains! peak is at 2:30am! perfectly clear skies! unobstructed view of the leonids! next showing this spectacular will be in 2099!
afraid of missing the this-time-we're-serious last spectactular meteor shower, we set an alarm and drove east, just in time for the peak. i saw two or three really beautiful, lingering tails. we had maybe 5 separate instances where we had more than one meteor in a minute. mostly, i was amazed at the moon. the full moon, in all of it's uncooperative glory. the perfect clear sky, the perfect meteor shower, but the moon so bright we could read.
i would like to do this more often, without the lure of some astronomical event. without the promise of something spectacular. without purpose. oh, to just park the car, follow some trails until the yellow rings around streetlights can no longer find me, until the red flashing lights on the radio towers are specks in the distance, in a different world, until it's so silent that i'm afraid.
next november, indian summer or not, i'll head out for the beginning of 96 years' worth of unspectacular leonid visits, and have this 2am silence to myself.
there must be another term for an indian summer when it stretches well into november. i feel trapped in a seasonal purgatory, unable to wear either pastel springy clothes or wooly snuggly fall ware... unable to feel anticipation for the holidays... unable to shake the feeling that the 4th of july was only a few weeks ago... unable to fathom the freezing rain and snow storms but a few states away. this time last year, we drove miles and miles east and braved sub 30° F temperatures in the middle of the night to watch the "last spectacular leonid meteor shower we'll see until almost a century from now." surreal. beautiful. freezing. west-bound traffic jams, 5am, sunday morning. hour long wait at denny's.
yesterday: no wait! this year is going to be even better! bundle up! head to the mountains! peak is at 2:30am! perfectly clear skies! unobstructed view of the leonids! next showing this spectacular will be in 2099!
afraid of missing the this-time-we're-serious last spectactular meteor shower, we set an alarm and drove east, just in time for the peak. i saw two or three really beautiful, lingering tails. we had maybe 5 separate instances where we had more than one meteor in a minute. mostly, i was amazed at the moon. the full moon, in all of it's uncooperative glory. the perfect clear sky, the perfect meteor shower, but the moon so bright we could read.
i would like to do this more often, without the lure of some astronomical event. without the promise of something spectacular. without purpose. oh, to just park the car, follow some trails until the yellow rings around streetlights can no longer find me, until the red flashing lights on the radio towers are specks in the distance, in a different world, until it's so silent that i'm afraid.
next november, indian summer or not, i'll head out for the beginning of 96 years' worth of unspectacular leonid visits, and have this 2am silence to myself.
11.14.2002
completeness
i firmly believe that the whole jerry maguire/austin powers "you complete me" spiel is a crock. a remarkable woman and friend, heidi k., was talking about this recently, and i fully credit her for the movie allusion. i am the only person that can complete me. i am the only person i need to be around, other than the constant presence of god for my spiritual and mental sustanance. having a soul mate is different from being complete.
recall in Say Anything... diane court comes to visit lloyd dobbler, post-break-up, at his kickboxing studio. lloyd is shocked to see her, lloyd gets kicked in the nose, director creates an amazing scene with hugs and tears and bloody noses. anyway, diane tells lloyd, "lloyd, i need you." lloyd is stoked. they hug for a moment, but he pulls away. he asks her, "wait. do you need me, or do you just need anybody?" and then tells her to forget it, because he doesn't want to know the answer.
i had always been disturbed by this. (nobody messes with my john cusack!).
real life. the cast: girl, boy. the scene: the 3 month hiatus after a broken 2 year relationship. the mood: needy.
i spent that summer in a rollercoaster of freedom and loneliness. of happily dating and resenting my involved friends. of hating to go out to dinner by myself...
i did not go back to Boy because i wanted to be with him. i needed him. i needed someone. i needed not to be lonely. major mistake #8 in julia's life.
it was only a month later when i would break his heart again.
i didn't allow myself to fall back into the cycle of loneliness. i kept myself busy and surrounded myself with wonderful friends. then i met erik. my life quickly became more amazing than nutella crepes or that discontinued cheesecake factory white chocolate lemon-raspberry swirl cheesecake. i had found my soul mate.
it was a sad day when i realized that i didn't need to be near erik constantly. i was 21 years old at the time. i remember wondering, "does this mean that i don't need him? does this mean that i don't love him?" i knew back then that i was going to spend the rest of my life with him, so perhaps you can imagine my sense of alarm. it took me a few days to realize that at that very moment, i grew up. i was no longer a clingy, needy girl that used people. i became my own person. i realize now that i want and choose to be around erik constantly. i want and choose to spend the rest of my life with him, and i know that my life's trajectory will be incomplete without him. my life would suck without erik, but the only thing i really need is the air that god breathes into my body.
i hope that other people can make this realization and ask with confidence! for that Table for One before they commit themselves to marriage. before they take that insane next step with someone who might only be a comfort from loneliness... from someone who might not mesh with the New Me, the Power Lloyd... Iceman.
i am so lucky for erik's presence in my life. i am so thankful that i am not just comfortable with him, and that we allow each other to be our own selves. dependent and complementary, but not reliant and parasitic.
i firmly believe that the whole jerry maguire/austin powers "you complete me" spiel is a crock. a remarkable woman and friend, heidi k., was talking about this recently, and i fully credit her for the movie allusion. i am the only person that can complete me. i am the only person i need to be around, other than the constant presence of god for my spiritual and mental sustanance. having a soul mate is different from being complete.
recall in Say Anything... diane court comes to visit lloyd dobbler, post-break-up, at his kickboxing studio. lloyd is shocked to see her, lloyd gets kicked in the nose, director creates an amazing scene with hugs and tears and bloody noses. anyway, diane tells lloyd, "lloyd, i need you." lloyd is stoked. they hug for a moment, but he pulls away. he asks her, "wait. do you need me, or do you just need anybody?" and then tells her to forget it, because he doesn't want to know the answer.
i had always been disturbed by this. (nobody messes with my john cusack!).
real life. the cast: girl, boy. the scene: the 3 month hiatus after a broken 2 year relationship. the mood: needy.
i spent that summer in a rollercoaster of freedom and loneliness. of happily dating and resenting my involved friends. of hating to go out to dinner by myself...
i did not go back to Boy because i wanted to be with him. i needed him. i needed someone. i needed not to be lonely. major mistake #8 in julia's life.
it was only a month later when i would break his heart again.
i didn't allow myself to fall back into the cycle of loneliness. i kept myself busy and surrounded myself with wonderful friends. then i met erik. my life quickly became more amazing than nutella crepes or that discontinued cheesecake factory white chocolate lemon-raspberry swirl cheesecake. i had found my soul mate.
it was a sad day when i realized that i didn't need to be near erik constantly. i was 21 years old at the time. i remember wondering, "does this mean that i don't need him? does this mean that i don't love him?" i knew back then that i was going to spend the rest of my life with him, so perhaps you can imagine my sense of alarm. it took me a few days to realize that at that very moment, i grew up. i was no longer a clingy, needy girl that used people. i became my own person. i realize now that i want and choose to be around erik constantly. i want and choose to spend the rest of my life with him, and i know that my life's trajectory will be incomplete without him. my life would suck without erik, but the only thing i really need is the air that god breathes into my body.
i hope that other people can make this realization and ask with confidence! for that Table for One before they commit themselves to marriage. before they take that insane next step with someone who might only be a comfort from loneliness... from someone who might not mesh with the New Me, the Power Lloyd... Iceman.
i am so lucky for erik's presence in my life. i am so thankful that i am not just comfortable with him, and that we allow each other to be our own selves. dependent and complementary, but not reliant and parasitic.
11.13.2002
folkin' hell
so i thought i'd never see a love song with the phrase, "jumpin' jesus, holy cow" in it.
my quest is over: be mine
so i thought i'd never see a love song with the phrase, "jumpin' jesus, holy cow" in it.
my quest is over: be mine
11.05.2002
peace
it just doesn't seem so possible.
today i feel like the only person capable of a deep meditative peace is me. (capability being notably different from actuality.)
nonetheless, i feel alone in a need for calm and forgiveness. by no means have i found that grail, but i think accepting the need and the task is by far a greater achievement. i want every person to feel a spiritual sense of oneness and satiation. i want every nation to feel part of the brotherhood and sisterhood and motherhood and fatherhood of all nations, of all beings, of all essence. the connection that transcends all separateness - separateness from differences of mind, body, element. the connection that lends itself to peace.
Deep peace of the running wave to you.
Deep peace of the flowing air to you.
Deep peace of the quiet earth to you.
Deep peace of the shining stars to you.
Deep peace of the infinite peace to you.
--gaelic rune
it just doesn't seem so possible.
today i feel like the only person capable of a deep meditative peace is me. (capability being notably different from actuality.)
nonetheless, i feel alone in a need for calm and forgiveness. by no means have i found that grail, but i think accepting the need and the task is by far a greater achievement. i want every person to feel a spiritual sense of oneness and satiation. i want every nation to feel part of the brotherhood and sisterhood and motherhood and fatherhood of all nations, of all beings, of all essence. the connection that transcends all separateness - separateness from differences of mind, body, element. the connection that lends itself to peace.
Deep peace of the running wave to you.
Deep peace of the flowing air to you.
Deep peace of the quiet earth to you.
Deep peace of the shining stars to you.
Deep peace of the infinite peace to you.
--gaelic rune
11.04.2002
primary school. love.
a memory. first love? hardly. but i had a crush on you from the day we met until the day i left. did you move in late, from newcastle? memory fails me there. but i remember. from second grade until even a little after i moved away for good in 7th grade, you were really the only boy i even thought about. there was that brief stint with someone else in 7th grade...... my friends told his friends (you. oh the irony) that i liked him, and you told my friends that he liked me, and that was the end of it.
but you. remember in mrs. blight's class... i had short hair at this point, and just got glasses. (this was even before the brief, failed attempt at correcting my imbalanced vision with an eye patch.) you said, direct quote burned into my history: "you look like an alien."
you were always the first to make fun of me. come to think of it, we spent a lot of time together, with our mums leading girl guides and you and i, too young (or too male) to participate would play stupid games and crack each other up underneath tables and you had no idea what it really meant to me.
but when you would tease me, i didn't see it as the playful reciprocated flirting. but, strangely enough for me, i didn't cry about it. i just laughed with you.
but do you remember the time you ran away? it was after swimming lessons. i noticed before we even got on the bus to go back to school, but i was too scared to tell anyone. i was scared that someone would figure me out. "why were you watching him anyway?" i remember lining up to go into lunch and worrying more. lost in the vast depths of egremont while everyone else, oblivious, went on with their daily duties of lining up outside the slippery wood-floored assembly room several miles away. the collective oblivion may have fed your loneliness, or whatever inspired you to run that day. if only i could have told you then that i noticed. that i was sad and frustrated at my incapacity. i had no idea where you had gone, but at that moment i was afraid of never having a chance with you.
but then it was my fault. the whole thing in 7th grade. chris simcock. what a fiasco. i was too scared to even speak to him. was the whole thing - me following through on my petty attraction to the boy with big ears and unfortunate last name - because you had a girlfriend who wasn't me?
but going to wyndham changed us. no more gallivanting around the mission during girl guides. no more interaction. i don't even remember telling you i was about to move. i remember feeling the jealous reward of retaliation, picturing someone mentioning that i was gone, and wondering what thought would cross your mind... whether your heart would skip a beat maybe, or you'd swallow hard and try to calmly change the subject so nobody would notice that you missed me even just a little.
the people i remember most vividly from thornhill are emma, nicola, and you. emma with fondness, nicola with resentment and a little fear still, and you - you with a glimpse of that giddy young obsession, wondering if i really ever knew you at all.
a memory. first love? hardly. but i had a crush on you from the day we met until the day i left. did you move in late, from newcastle? memory fails me there. but i remember. from second grade until even a little after i moved away for good in 7th grade, you were really the only boy i even thought about. there was that brief stint with someone else in 7th grade...... my friends told his friends (you. oh the irony) that i liked him, and you told my friends that he liked me, and that was the end of it.
but you. remember in mrs. blight's class... i had short hair at this point, and just got glasses. (this was even before the brief, failed attempt at correcting my imbalanced vision with an eye patch.) you said, direct quote burned into my history: "you look like an alien."
you were always the first to make fun of me. come to think of it, we spent a lot of time together, with our mums leading girl guides and you and i, too young (or too male) to participate would play stupid games and crack each other up underneath tables and you had no idea what it really meant to me.
but when you would tease me, i didn't see it as the playful reciprocated flirting. but, strangely enough for me, i didn't cry about it. i just laughed with you.
but do you remember the time you ran away? it was after swimming lessons. i noticed before we even got on the bus to go back to school, but i was too scared to tell anyone. i was scared that someone would figure me out. "why were you watching him anyway?" i remember lining up to go into lunch and worrying more. lost in the vast depths of egremont while everyone else, oblivious, went on with their daily duties of lining up outside the slippery wood-floored assembly room several miles away. the collective oblivion may have fed your loneliness, or whatever inspired you to run that day. if only i could have told you then that i noticed. that i was sad and frustrated at my incapacity. i had no idea where you had gone, but at that moment i was afraid of never having a chance with you.
but then it was my fault. the whole thing in 7th grade. chris simcock. what a fiasco. i was too scared to even speak to him. was the whole thing - me following through on my petty attraction to the boy with big ears and unfortunate last name - because you had a girlfriend who wasn't me?
but going to wyndham changed us. no more gallivanting around the mission during girl guides. no more interaction. i don't even remember telling you i was about to move. i remember feeling the jealous reward of retaliation, picturing someone mentioning that i was gone, and wondering what thought would cross your mind... whether your heart would skip a beat maybe, or you'd swallow hard and try to calmly change the subject so nobody would notice that you missed me even just a little.
the people i remember most vividly from thornhill are emma, nicola, and you. emma with fondness, nicola with resentment and a little fear still, and you - you with a glimpse of that giddy young obsession, wondering if i really ever knew you at all.
did we just have a moment?
me=blackbean-eating rubios-goer
her=cashier at rubios with a cool whaletail pendant
the conversation:
me: i'd like a bean and cheese burrito, but with black beans instead of pinto beans, whole wheat tortilla instead of flour, and no salsa.
her: okay
me: i love your necklace.
her: i love your burrito.
me=blackbean-eating rubios-goer
her=cashier at rubios with a cool whaletail pendant
the conversation:
me: i'd like a bean and cheese burrito, but with black beans instead of pinto beans, whole wheat tortilla instead of flour, and no salsa.
her: okay
me: i love your necklace.
her: i love your burrito.
careful where you stand
what is it with politics that leaves me thoroughly dissatisfied? also, why can't i ever be bothered to look up the correct spelling of dissatisfied? two s's? one? does it matter? good.
so, politics... voting day is tomorrow. and, as i try not to disclose too often, i will be painfully impotent tomorrow. a resident alien, an in-valid. it's fine being a loyal Subject of the Queen 364 days out of the year, just not tomorrow. i feel like my impassioned pleas for radical social change and environmental focus end up being just this side of hypocritical, because i can't do anything about it. the letters, the arguments in which i participate with friends, the boycotts, the lifestyle... all of it distills to the fact that i'm not a constituent of any of those folk in the capitol, so how can i be incensed when nothing goes my way?
but i remind myself that most real i-voted-for-ya constituents live their lives mostly unnoticed by their elected representatives. letters are read and responded to, but special interests are the way to a politician's heart. or, stomach? wait, i'm getting my proverbial sayings jumbled. or am i just being unfathomably witty and charming?
so maybe i'm no less impotent than the next guy. (hahahahahahaha, okay, i'll find a new word). in the end, our dollar is our strongest vote. i don't mean giving the dollars to the politician. that can be pointless, unless you have an extra 10 million of them to compete with the Massive Corporate Donors. i mean, using it wisely. don't like Massive Corporate Donors? don't give them your money. don't like the starbucks evil empire? don't give them your money. don't like the fast food industry? don't give them your money. we'd all probably save money and weigh less if we were more concientious about what we spend and where we spend it.
don't forget to vote tomorrow. i'm not saying that voting is useless. (although sometimes my internal defense mechanisms get that way). voting is the essence of democracy, and if we can choose between a candidate who puts their own needs (and the corporations' needs who paid their way to the elected seat) ahead of the nation and the people OR someone who will make a difference, or maybe someone who doesn't accept corporate funding, then we are suddenly very powerful. we can't elect someone as a "representative" unless they're really going to represent us.
okay, enough out of my impotent limey gob.
what is it with politics that leaves me thoroughly dissatisfied? also, why can't i ever be bothered to look up the correct spelling of dissatisfied? two s's? one? does it matter? good.
so, politics... voting day is tomorrow. and, as i try not to disclose too often, i will be painfully impotent tomorrow. a resident alien, an in-valid. it's fine being a loyal Subject of the Queen 364 days out of the year, just not tomorrow. i feel like my impassioned pleas for radical social change and environmental focus end up being just this side of hypocritical, because i can't do anything about it. the letters, the arguments in which i participate with friends, the boycotts, the lifestyle... all of it distills to the fact that i'm not a constituent of any of those folk in the capitol, so how can i be incensed when nothing goes my way?
but i remind myself that most real i-voted-for-ya constituents live their lives mostly unnoticed by their elected representatives. letters are read and responded to, but special interests are the way to a politician's heart. or, stomach? wait, i'm getting my proverbial sayings jumbled. or am i just being unfathomably witty and charming?
so maybe i'm no less impotent than the next guy. (hahahahahahaha, okay, i'll find a new word). in the end, our dollar is our strongest vote. i don't mean giving the dollars to the politician. that can be pointless, unless you have an extra 10 million of them to compete with the Massive Corporate Donors. i mean, using it wisely. don't like Massive Corporate Donors? don't give them your money. don't like the starbucks evil empire? don't give them your money. don't like the fast food industry? don't give them your money. we'd all probably save money and weigh less if we were more concientious about what we spend and where we spend it.
don't forget to vote tomorrow. i'm not saying that voting is useless. (although sometimes my internal defense mechanisms get that way). voting is the essence of democracy, and if we can choose between a candidate who puts their own needs (and the corporations' needs who paid their way to the elected seat) ahead of the nation and the people OR someone who will make a difference, or maybe someone who doesn't accept corporate funding, then we are suddenly very powerful. we can't elect someone as a "representative" unless they're really going to represent us.
okay, enough out of my impotent limey gob.
11.01.2002
better living through chemistry
so i'm sick. i'm on the verge, which is enough for me. it will inevitably get worse. the sore throat usually takes a good two weeks to turn into a full-fledged cold. then, i'm sniffly and hoarse and achy for a week or so, and then deal with the sexy phlegm and residual sore throat for another two weeks, until i gradually recover.
but i am armed with the marvels or ancient medicine. echinaccea tea and elderberry extract. echinaccea tea is soothing and tasty, and *apparantly* boosts the old immune system. but we're not allowed to be quoted on that. elderberry extract, on the other hand, is putrid. "your mother is a hamster and your father smells like elderberries" was infact a horrid insult not unique to british people impersonating french guards.
do these herbal remedies really help? can we quantify it? not really. can we believe in it? sure. i believe.
i wonder if this belief is the same as the belief i have in ghosts and/or aliens. it all boils down to the fact that i'm afraid to say either one doesn't exist, so i say i don't not believe in them.
i'm a little afraid of doing absolutely nothing here, so i'll plug my nose and swallow that foul elixer, washing it down with a nice steaming henna patterned mug of echinaccea tea. hmmm, and maybe a spoonful of honey. you know, they say honey is nature's antibiotic....
so i'm sick. i'm on the verge, which is enough for me. it will inevitably get worse. the sore throat usually takes a good two weeks to turn into a full-fledged cold. then, i'm sniffly and hoarse and achy for a week or so, and then deal with the sexy phlegm and residual sore throat for another two weeks, until i gradually recover.
but i am armed with the marvels or ancient medicine. echinaccea tea and elderberry extract. echinaccea tea is soothing and tasty, and *apparantly* boosts the old immune system. but we're not allowed to be quoted on that. elderberry extract, on the other hand, is putrid. "your mother is a hamster and your father smells like elderberries" was infact a horrid insult not unique to british people impersonating french guards.
do these herbal remedies really help? can we quantify it? not really. can we believe in it? sure. i believe.
i wonder if this belief is the same as the belief i have in ghosts and/or aliens. it all boils down to the fact that i'm afraid to say either one doesn't exist, so i say i don't not believe in them.
i'm a little afraid of doing absolutely nothing here, so i'll plug my nose and swallow that foul elixer, washing it down with a nice steaming henna patterned mug of echinaccea tea. hmmm, and maybe a spoonful of honey. you know, they say honey is nature's antibiotic....
10.29.2002
forget being princess of a small country...
...or even a photojournalist in the south pacific!
my new life goal is to own a yoga studio. i'm thinking specializing in pre- and post-natal yoga (because i'm not advanced enough to do the funky stuff! i'll stick with what pregnant people can do), AND maybe dabbling in a theme of christian yoga. i think a lot of christians steer clear of yoga because of it's eastern religion/jesus-free foundation. but they're way off. sure the foundation and history is a very zen flavor, but ultimately god is there. i mean OUR god. God. capital G. there's no reason to keep jesus away, either.
i think with my newfound need/desire for a M.A. Theology, this would allign itself quite nicely with my career-based future of working for the church. i could run young adult ministry for the diocese (episcopal) or for a church/school on the side, and still manage and own my little yoga studio.
i'm feeling really great about this. i have a future! lookout world, here i come!
hold me to it.
...or even a photojournalist in the south pacific!
my new life goal is to own a yoga studio. i'm thinking specializing in pre- and post-natal yoga (because i'm not advanced enough to do the funky stuff! i'll stick with what pregnant people can do), AND maybe dabbling in a theme of christian yoga. i think a lot of christians steer clear of yoga because of it's eastern religion/jesus-free foundation. but they're way off. sure the foundation and history is a very zen flavor, but ultimately god is there. i mean OUR god. God. capital G. there's no reason to keep jesus away, either.
i think with my newfound need/desire for a M.A. Theology, this would allign itself quite nicely with my career-based future of working for the church. i could run young adult ministry for the diocese (episcopal) or for a church/school on the side, and still manage and own my little yoga studio.
i'm feeling really great about this. i have a future! lookout world, here i come!
hold me to it.
10.28.2002
persecute
with the chechnya/russia conflict moving into the public eye this last weekend, i've had a hard time taking a side. hostile hostage taking is always unquestionably wrong. but... i feel really empathetic towards the chechens... in the same way i feel for the IRA and the likes of kevin barry. these people are being horrifically persecuted for their heritage and the zipcode in which they live, but they have this increasing sense of passion for their families and communities. but i wish we could feel empathy towards them as we do towards starving, harmless children in third world countries. i wish they didn't fight back.
i suppose, ultimately, i wish for ending a reason for them to fight back. russia should have pulled out of chechnya... it's a no brainer. but the pride of one person will perpetuate the war.
as the hanging of kevin barry incensed further strife, the moscow fiasco will not silence the chechens.
with the chechnya/russia conflict moving into the public eye this last weekend, i've had a hard time taking a side. hostile hostage taking is always unquestionably wrong. but... i feel really empathetic towards the chechens... in the same way i feel for the IRA and the likes of kevin barry. these people are being horrifically persecuted for their heritage and the zipcode in which they live, but they have this increasing sense of passion for their families and communities. but i wish we could feel empathy towards them as we do towards starving, harmless children in third world countries. i wish they didn't fight back.
i suppose, ultimately, i wish for ending a reason for them to fight back. russia should have pulled out of chechnya... it's a no brainer. but the pride of one person will perpetuate the war.
as the hanging of kevin barry incensed further strife, the moscow fiasco will not silence the chechens.
10.23.2002
self evident
... is an amazing poem by ani difranco. i heard it live last night. that woman rocks my world!
i promise i'll write something for real soon, instead of just pasting in other peoples' genius.
read it here
pure genius. i'm off to make my own "say no to war" shirt now.
... is an amazing poem by ani difranco. i heard it live last night. that woman rocks my world!
i promise i'll write something for real soon, instead of just pasting in other peoples' genius.
read it here
pure genius. i'm off to make my own "say no to war" shirt now.
10.17.2002
laconic
when scottish people are around, i can't help but listen - there's something about the speed and general disregard for the fact that not many people can understand them, and they know this, and they ignore this. it's inspiring.
i remember seeing john mayer a few years ago, he introduced "my stupid mouth" with a story about how he always wants to start each school year being the mysteriously quiet guy in the back. "this year is gonna be the year that i keep my mouth shut." but, he said it always failed. that's inspiring, too. the need to be enigmatic and contemplative.
right now i'll just be quiet until i can decide.
when scottish people are around, i can't help but listen - there's something about the speed and general disregard for the fact that not many people can understand them, and they know this, and they ignore this. it's inspiring.
i remember seeing john mayer a few years ago, he introduced "my stupid mouth" with a story about how he always wants to start each school year being the mysteriously quiet guy in the back. "this year is gonna be the year that i keep my mouth shut." but, he said it always failed. that's inspiring, too. the need to be enigmatic and contemplative.
right now i'll just be quiet until i can decide.
10.16.2002
10.15.2002
ten am
or: being independently wealthy.
as i managed to spend the entire weekend trying to wrap up work, i started thinking how great life would be without a job but with an income. would i really be happy? i seriously doubt it. success and usefullness reign over idleness, i think. it bothers me that erik's mother hasn't worked in years, but calls everything "my house" and "my furniture." i'm all for sharing and coexisting - but wouldn't it then be "our house"...? i know the social climate in which she was raised was slightly different from mine, but i still get the urge to just yell "it's NOT YOUR HOUSE!" i don't, though. i think that stay-at-home-parents are the champions of our society and culture - this isn't a beef with them.
so i guess i wouldn't like to be independently wealthy. it's all about dependence. funny how that works out.
all i really want is 10am. i'm not talking about saturdays. those are easy. i just want that hour to myself on weekdays. i want to sit outside the coffee shops with my feet up, participating in the totally useless art of half-finishing crossword puzzles, and then cheating to fill in the rest. the coffee shop owner would become a close friend. maybe after i was done there, i'd go to my yoga studio to get ready for the afternoon classes, or look through the book collections i'll have there.
well, i should get back to reality. sigh. it's almost 10.
or: being independently wealthy.
as i managed to spend the entire weekend trying to wrap up work, i started thinking how great life would be without a job but with an income. would i really be happy? i seriously doubt it. success and usefullness reign over idleness, i think. it bothers me that erik's mother hasn't worked in years, but calls everything "my house" and "my furniture." i'm all for sharing and coexisting - but wouldn't it then be "our house"...? i know the social climate in which she was raised was slightly different from mine, but i still get the urge to just yell "it's NOT YOUR HOUSE!" i don't, though. i think that stay-at-home-parents are the champions of our society and culture - this isn't a beef with them.
so i guess i wouldn't like to be independently wealthy. it's all about dependence. funny how that works out.
all i really want is 10am. i'm not talking about saturdays. those are easy. i just want that hour to myself on weekdays. i want to sit outside the coffee shops with my feet up, participating in the totally useless art of half-finishing crossword puzzles, and then cheating to fill in the rest. the coffee shop owner would become a close friend. maybe after i was done there, i'd go to my yoga studio to get ready for the afternoon classes, or look through the book collections i'll have there.
well, i should get back to reality. sigh. it's almost 10.
10.11.2002
10.10.2002
blue glow
the lights just turned off in my office.
we sit in darkness until someone can't handle it long enough and resets the timer.
right now, i'm enjoying the all-nighter-esque blueness cast upon my face, lighting the way for my fingers as they fumble for the right keys, the right words, the right thoughts.
oh look, the lights are back. flourescancy. headache. going home now.
the lights just turned off in my office.
we sit in darkness until someone can't handle it long enough and resets the timer.
right now, i'm enjoying the all-nighter-esque blueness cast upon my face, lighting the way for my fingers as they fumble for the right keys, the right words, the right thoughts.
oh look, the lights are back. flourescancy. headache. going home now.
am i less of a person for liking contemporary christian music?
how's that for a catchy subject heading. yeah baby, this is going to be a thrilling entry.
after peeking into other people's lives like the stalker that i promise i'm not, i've heard good holy people bash contemporary christian music. that used to be me. i promise you i don't regularly listen to k-love, nor do i like any boy-bands, but i do have a special place in my heart for the likes of jennifer knapp and the city on a hill series. these are people that really don't give a flying hoot whether their amazing musical talents will go mostly unnoticed because of the few who have sweared off pop songs for J.C. they write amazing lyrics, or sometimes take beautiful old scriptures or ancient hymns and make them new.
wait, i think i might be a contemporary christian musician. okay, not really. most of the songs i write about jesus and god and co. are dark and death-y, or life-y, but i really can only manage to pull the hope-from-darkness imagery out of this vacuous shed of contrived lyrics waiting to actualize themselves in the next hope-from-darkness song.
if i'm listening to a song and realize that there's no way on this good earth that i'd listen to this song if it wasn't about god, i turn it off. if the word "exalt" is used, i turn it off. if there are more than 5 boys who spike/tip their hair and all of them sing and walk around on stage in swirly choreographs, i turn it off. if someone is giving me a beautiful message about the god that i love and serve, and the music is edgy and beautiful and emotionful (new word!), i listen.
i may be less of a person, but i'm too tired to boycott everything.
how's that for a catchy subject heading. yeah baby, this is going to be a thrilling entry.
after peeking into other people's lives like the stalker that i promise i'm not, i've heard good holy people bash contemporary christian music. that used to be me. i promise you i don't regularly listen to k-love, nor do i like any boy-bands, but i do have a special place in my heart for the likes of jennifer knapp and the city on a hill series. these are people that really don't give a flying hoot whether their amazing musical talents will go mostly unnoticed because of the few who have sweared off pop songs for J.C. they write amazing lyrics, or sometimes take beautiful old scriptures or ancient hymns and make them new.
wait, i think i might be a contemporary christian musician. okay, not really. most of the songs i write about jesus and god and co. are dark and death-y, or life-y, but i really can only manage to pull the hope-from-darkness imagery out of this vacuous shed of contrived lyrics waiting to actualize themselves in the next hope-from-darkness song.
if i'm listening to a song and realize that there's no way on this good earth that i'd listen to this song if it wasn't about god, i turn it off. if the word "exalt" is used, i turn it off. if there are more than 5 boys who spike/tip their hair and all of them sing and walk around on stage in swirly choreographs, i turn it off. if someone is giving me a beautiful message about the god that i love and serve, and the music is edgy and beautiful and emotionful (new word!), i listen.
i may be less of a person, but i'm too tired to boycott everything.
finding my place in the bridal universe
i don't think i'm inherently different from the hoards of daddy's girls rushing to the paramount bridal bizarres or spending $5-10 each on a glossy (or matte, as the trends dictate) bridal magazine. bridal PORN as www.goingbridal.com insists. infact, i own a few bridal magazines. and yes, i own martha stewart weddings.
but, on the other hand, i can't allow myself to litter this fragile earth, our island home (thanks to eucharistic prayer C) with:
a) a giant 300 lb display of tulle, organza and miscellaneous satins that will be forever banished to a "preserving bag" from thenceforth.
b) those three superfluous envelopes that come with the invitations. yes, all it really takes is one.
c) vellum. what the heck is vellum made of anyway?
d) jordan almonds. i admit, those are tasty, but nobody will really appreciate the effort we take to package them in pretty pouches or disposable plastic tubs.
e) those disposable plastic tubs
f) out of season flowers!
g) bridesmaid dresses. need i say more.
anyway, so with that, i'm returning to my silent boycott of the bridal industry. okay, you're right. anything i boycott is never really done silently.
here ends the first installment of julia's interpretations of the bridal universe.
i don't think i'm inherently different from the hoards of daddy's girls rushing to the paramount bridal bizarres or spending $5-10 each on a glossy (or matte, as the trends dictate) bridal magazine. bridal PORN as www.goingbridal.com insists. infact, i own a few bridal magazines. and yes, i own martha stewart weddings.
but, on the other hand, i can't allow myself to litter this fragile earth, our island home (thanks to eucharistic prayer C) with:
a) a giant 300 lb display of tulle, organza and miscellaneous satins that will be forever banished to a "preserving bag" from thenceforth.
b) those three superfluous envelopes that come with the invitations. yes, all it really takes is one.
c) vellum. what the heck is vellum made of anyway?
d) jordan almonds. i admit, those are tasty, but nobody will really appreciate the effort we take to package them in pretty pouches or disposable plastic tubs.
e) those disposable plastic tubs
f) out of season flowers!
g) bridesmaid dresses. need i say more.
anyway, so with that, i'm returning to my silent boycott of the bridal industry. okay, you're right. anything i boycott is never really done silently.
here ends the first installment of julia's interpretations of the bridal universe.
10.09.2002
i want to walk as a child of the light
but right now the only lights are these damn flourescent lights casting a greenish-yellow haze over my khaki-carpeted cubicle walls.
i was inspired today, and hence, i get all jesusy.
if i write a song today, i'll let you all know.
you. who are you?
but right now the only lights are these damn flourescent lights casting a greenish-yellow haze over my khaki-carpeted cubicle walls.
i was inspired today, and hence, i get all jesusy.
if i write a song today, i'll let you all know.
you. who are you?
twenty three point eight
percent.
23.8% body fat! holy cow!
we just had a health expo in our work parking lot, so my skinny (like seriously skin and bones) coworker and i lined up to check our body fat percentages. i was pleasantly surprised to note that i, 20 pounds heavier than her, have only 2% more body fat. i'm hardly made of steel, but it was a small victory. baby steps.
outside of my brief moment of self-confidence, the rest of the day has been slightly normal.
smog
the "health" expo had about 4 booths dedicated to carpooling and transportation alternatives. i signed up to join vanpools, for about the 3rd time this month. (someone *must* live by me!!!) the drive to and from work is really stressing me out. it's only 20 miles (one way), but it's too much. my gorgeous little car lacks air conditioning, and in conjunction, it apparantly lacks enough filtration to prevent full-size eucalyptus leaves coming straight through my vents. the eucalyptus is a nice touch - it feels woodsy inside - but the smog and nearby drivers' cigarettes and stinky car smells really make me grumpy. i feel as if the smog cloud i drive through manages to linger on my brain and attitude for at least an hour or so after the commute ends. i'm angry at myself for contributing to said smog. i'm angry at myself for being preachy about carpooling or public transportation or smart-growth, and then continuing my life of working in suburbia and driving by myself. (luckily, afore mentioned condo-upon-which-we-bid is closer to work and traffic-free).
...must join happy middle-aged admin ladies in a vanpool and read the paper on the way to work. or gossip. or move to portland. whichever is easiest.
i'm feeling very practical in this post. are you feeling it? i'm strangely drawn to end the post with some abstract, haughty commentary. i'll spare us all.
percent.
23.8% body fat! holy cow!
we just had a health expo in our work parking lot, so my skinny (like seriously skin and bones) coworker and i lined up to check our body fat percentages. i was pleasantly surprised to note that i, 20 pounds heavier than her, have only 2% more body fat. i'm hardly made of steel, but it was a small victory. baby steps.
outside of my brief moment of self-confidence, the rest of the day has been slightly normal.
smog
the "health" expo had about 4 booths dedicated to carpooling and transportation alternatives. i signed up to join vanpools, for about the 3rd time this month. (someone *must* live by me!!!) the drive to and from work is really stressing me out. it's only 20 miles (one way), but it's too much. my gorgeous little car lacks air conditioning, and in conjunction, it apparantly lacks enough filtration to prevent full-size eucalyptus leaves coming straight through my vents. the eucalyptus is a nice touch - it feels woodsy inside - but the smog and nearby drivers' cigarettes and stinky car smells really make me grumpy. i feel as if the smog cloud i drive through manages to linger on my brain and attitude for at least an hour or so after the commute ends. i'm angry at myself for contributing to said smog. i'm angry at myself for being preachy about carpooling or public transportation or smart-growth, and then continuing my life of working in suburbia and driving by myself. (luckily, afore mentioned condo-upon-which-we-bid is closer to work and traffic-free).
...must join happy middle-aged admin ladies in a vanpool and read the paper on the way to work. or gossip. or move to portland. whichever is easiest.
i'm feeling very practical in this post. are you feeling it? i'm strangely drawn to end the post with some abstract, haughty commentary. i'll spare us all.
gibran
-On Beauty-
And a poet said, "Speak to us of Beauty."
Where shall you seek beauty, and how shall you find her unless she herself be your way and your guide?
And how shall you speak of her except she be the weaver of your speech?
The aggrieved and the injured say, "Beauty is kind and gentle.
Like a young mother half-shy of her own glory she walks among us."
And the passionate say, "Nay, beauty is a thing of might and dread.
Like the tempest she shakes the earth beneath us and the sky above us."
The tired and the weary say, "beauty is of soft whisperings. She speaks in our spirit.
Her voice yields to our silences like a faint light that quivers in fear of the shadow."
But the restless say, "We have heard her shouting among the mountains,
And with her cries came the sound of hoofs, and the beating of wings and the roaring of lions."
At night the watchmen of the city say, "Beauty shall rise with the dawn from the east."
And at noontide the toilers and the wayfarers say, "we have seen her leaning over the earth from the windows of the sunset."
In winter say the snow-bound, "She shall come with the spring leaping upon the hills."
And in the summer heat the reapers say, "We have seen her dancing with the autumn leaves, and we saw a drift of snow in her hair."
All these things have you said of beauty.
Yet in truth you spoke not of her but of needs unsatisfied,
And beauty is not a need but an ecstasy.
It is not a mouth thirsting nor an empty hand stretched forth,
But rather a heart enflamed and a soul enchanted.
It is not the image you would see nor the song you would hear,
But rather an image you see though you close your eyes and a song you hear though you shut your ears.
It is not the sap within the furrowed bark, nor a wing attached to a claw,
But rather a garden for ever in bloom and a flock of angels for ever in flight.
People of Orphalese, beauty is life when life unveils her holy face.
But you are life and you are the veil.
Beauty is eternity gazing at itself in a mirror.
But you are eternity and you are the mirror.
--Kahlil Gibran, The Prophet
-On Beauty-
And a poet said, "Speak to us of Beauty."
Where shall you seek beauty, and how shall you find her unless she herself be your way and your guide?
And how shall you speak of her except she be the weaver of your speech?
The aggrieved and the injured say, "Beauty is kind and gentle.
Like a young mother half-shy of her own glory she walks among us."
And the passionate say, "Nay, beauty is a thing of might and dread.
Like the tempest she shakes the earth beneath us and the sky above us."
The tired and the weary say, "beauty is of soft whisperings. She speaks in our spirit.
Her voice yields to our silences like a faint light that quivers in fear of the shadow."
But the restless say, "We have heard her shouting among the mountains,
And with her cries came the sound of hoofs, and the beating of wings and the roaring of lions."
At night the watchmen of the city say, "Beauty shall rise with the dawn from the east."
And at noontide the toilers and the wayfarers say, "we have seen her leaning over the earth from the windows of the sunset."
In winter say the snow-bound, "She shall come with the spring leaping upon the hills."
And in the summer heat the reapers say, "We have seen her dancing with the autumn leaves, and we saw a drift of snow in her hair."
All these things have you said of beauty.
Yet in truth you spoke not of her but of needs unsatisfied,
And beauty is not a need but an ecstasy.
It is not a mouth thirsting nor an empty hand stretched forth,
But rather a heart enflamed and a soul enchanted.
It is not the image you would see nor the song you would hear,
But rather an image you see though you close your eyes and a song you hear though you shut your ears.
It is not the sap within the furrowed bark, nor a wing attached to a claw,
But rather a garden for ever in bloom and a flock of angels for ever in flight.
People of Orphalese, beauty is life when life unveils her holy face.
But you are life and you are the veil.
Beauty is eternity gazing at itself in a mirror.
But you are eternity and you are the mirror.
--Kahlil Gibran, The Prophet
god
talking with a dear dear friend last night, she mentioned a catastrophic experience in order to relay her reaction. of course, the experience is only catastrophic when you've spent the entire afternoon cleaning and prettifying your home for company. she knocked a vase of beautiful flowers off the shelf. it broke. glass everywhere. sad flowers.
julia evaluates what her reaction might have been: "&$#!!" or throwing something else. not really, i don't tend to throw things except tantrums.
sarah, on the other hand, mentioned her inital tendency to cuss, but ultimately mentioned that she just sat down and breathed (brothe?) and prayed. she remembered that broken vases are really trivial in the grand scheme of things, and her miniature sacrifice of having to sweep broken glass and rearrange some flowers is nothing compared to well, christ.
by the time i got to her house, the bathroom looked beautiful, with a new vase filled with rosemary and little purple flowers. it smelled great.
i keep wondering if i'll ever be the sort of person who's knee-jerk reaction to adversity is prayer or turning to god.
obviously not this morning when i was stuck behind the most idiotic slow driver on the way to work.
but the road to peace must begin with a desire for peace.
here i am, wanting peace. i'll be right here, waiting.
talking with a dear dear friend last night, she mentioned a catastrophic experience in order to relay her reaction. of course, the experience is only catastrophic when you've spent the entire afternoon cleaning and prettifying your home for company. she knocked a vase of beautiful flowers off the shelf. it broke. glass everywhere. sad flowers.
julia evaluates what her reaction might have been: "&$#!!" or throwing something else. not really, i don't tend to throw things except tantrums.
sarah, on the other hand, mentioned her inital tendency to cuss, but ultimately mentioned that she just sat down and breathed (brothe?) and prayed. she remembered that broken vases are really trivial in the grand scheme of things, and her miniature sacrifice of having to sweep broken glass and rearrange some flowers is nothing compared to well, christ.
by the time i got to her house, the bathroom looked beautiful, with a new vase filled with rosemary and little purple flowers. it smelled great.
i keep wondering if i'll ever be the sort of person who's knee-jerk reaction to adversity is prayer or turning to god.
obviously not this morning when i was stuck behind the most idiotic slow driver on the way to work.
but the road to peace must begin with a desire for peace.
here i am, wanting peace. i'll be right here, waiting.
sunrise
i drove to work in darkness today, hoping for a sunrise and an easy commute.
as i sat in my car weighing the benefits of replacing my toothpaste breath with the latte, i resented being sheathed in fog and traffic. i would usually revel in this being an abstract sunrise - the reflections and refractions of tail-lights bouncing amongst the millions of water droplets, rendering the air a pale and cold orange - but instead, i shook myself out of it and inhaled a sip of dry, bitter, milky coffee.
i drove to work in darkness today, hoping for a sunrise and an easy commute.
as i sat in my car weighing the benefits of replacing my toothpaste breath with the latte, i resented being sheathed in fog and traffic. i would usually revel in this being an abstract sunrise - the reflections and refractions of tail-lights bouncing amongst the millions of water droplets, rendering the air a pale and cold orange - but instead, i shook myself out of it and inhaled a sip of dry, bitter, milky coffee.
10.08.2002
the evil empire
an email i sent a few months ago entitled, "die starbucks, die"
just so we all are clear on how i feel about the evil green mermaid:
_________
so my passion has been renewed.
heck, just the other day, i was thinking, "starbucks isn't THAT bad..." (except for those billboards with the coconut drinks sunbathing. what the heck?)
but today, i went to the UBOC on Poway road, and with my newly withdrawn dollars, i was planning on going to Mikey's Coffee Shop. (yes, my career has led me to such forsaken lands as poway).
so, I walk along, pass Stix pool house, and then, wait, I thought it was right here. Hm... I keep walking, until I'm all the way at the end of the strip mall. Hm... maybe I passed it. Then, glancing to the right, I see the giant green all-caps lettering of Starbucks... "Now Open!"
Mikey's was a well-known haven in the poway/RB/PQ area for local music and art. plus, Mikey was the greatest coffee shop owner in the world, and would always call you by your name and give you free stuff or let you try things without paying. it had been there for as long as i can remember.
now, alas, it's gone.
i wonder if Mikey retired and closed his doors. Starbucks probably stepped up to the plate and said, "It is our duty to serve the newly voided coffee-house-loving community of Poway. We just have to do it," and reluctantly, poignantly moved into the shopping center.
yeah, right.
_________
an email i sent a few months ago entitled, "die starbucks, die"
just so we all are clear on how i feel about the evil green mermaid:
_________
so my passion has been renewed.
heck, just the other day, i was thinking, "starbucks isn't THAT bad..." (except for those billboards with the coconut drinks sunbathing. what the heck?)
but today, i went to the UBOC on Poway road, and with my newly withdrawn dollars, i was planning on going to Mikey's Coffee Shop. (yes, my career has led me to such forsaken lands as poway).
so, I walk along, pass Stix pool house, and then, wait, I thought it was right here. Hm... I keep walking, until I'm all the way at the end of the strip mall. Hm... maybe I passed it. Then, glancing to the right, I see the giant green all-caps lettering of Starbucks... "Now Open!"
Mikey's was a well-known haven in the poway/RB/PQ area for local music and art. plus, Mikey was the greatest coffee shop owner in the world, and would always call you by your name and give you free stuff or let you try things without paying. it had been there for as long as i can remember.
now, alas, it's gone.
i wonder if Mikey retired and closed his doors. Starbucks probably stepped up to the plate and said, "It is our duty to serve the newly voided coffee-house-loving community of Poway. We just have to do it," and reluctantly, poignantly moved into the shopping center.
yeah, right.
_________
the published journalist...
well, don't get your hopes up too high. here's an article that appeared in the san diego episcopal diocese paper (from my word doc, not the version the editor actually published... i think all she did was add a semi colon where i PURPOSELY LEFT ONE OUT... you know, for the annie dillard effect. sigh, oh well). goodness knows what the circulation is, but i have a feeling that every poor soul that signed an episcopal church guest book at some point in their lives somehow found themselves on the mailing list.
oh yeah, i'm episcopalian.
"campus ministry" or, the inflicted title, "we are no longer the future of the church. we ARE the church"---
Just over two years ago, I graduated from college. As I drove away from campus for the last time, tossing my ratty parking permit into the back seat (i.e. trash can) in all its overpriced glory, I had a nagging feeling of regret. Regret?! I just graduated from college, with a pretty decent GPA (despite organic chemistry), and I had, as the many droning graduation speeches professed, “the future in my hands.” So where was this regret coming from?!
UCSD had a fledgling campus ministry program. I was one of 3 students, and I usually worked during the Wednesday Eucharists. Buoyed by an utterly devoted group of faculty and staff, the UCSD Episcopal Student Association survived the inconsistencies and evasiveness of college students. I regretted not fully participating and supporting the program. But at the same time, I felt a sense of community and unconditional support – the campus ministry program survived despite me.
Young adult and campus ministry can sometimes be seen as the black sheep of all religious organizations everywhere. Why should we put money and effort into a program for people who won’t appreciate it? Nobody will come, anyway. And why can’t they just go to church like other adults? In San Diego, we say, “Well, they have Vocare. What more do they need?”
Vocare in the Diocese of San Diego is one of the most successful in the nation. However, staffing the weekends and participating in monthly social and service-based reunions isn’t enough for me. I am being spiritually fed, but I am still going home hungry.
We “young adults” are now a rabid mix of Generation X and the new, younger generation, sometimes tagged “Generation Y.” Generation X includes people who are well into their 30s (I believe the bracket for this arbitrary classification is 1960-1979). Young adults are getting younger – this year’s college freshmen were born in 1985: the “Y” generation. However, with such vastly different ages of people in need of “young adult” ministry, there is one common denominator. Rodger Y. Nishoka, Associate Professor of Christian Education at Columbia Theological Seminary in Decatur, GA, spoke at this year’s Come to the Feast conference on young adult and campus ministry. Nishoka insisted that young adults need authenticity. He’s right. In politics, our relationships, our culture, our music – everything has to be genuine and relevant. We don’t let this requirement slide for our religious and spiritual lives, either. An astounding number of young adults insist that they are spiritual, but when asked if they attend church, the answer is rarely yes. In the eyes of many GenX-ers and GenY-ers, the institution of the church has somehow avoided the “authentic” nomen over the years. Our task now is to make ourselves authentic.
College is generally a time in someone’s life where the church is “forgotten.” Some of the most active youth group members run off to college and don’t look back. However, this is generally not a conscious decision. It’s a mixture of needing to sleep in on Sunday mornings and a general unavailability of authentic and relevant spiritual and theological guidance on the campus.
Over the years, Episcopal Campus Ministry in San Diego has taken some hard hits from budget cuts, lack of support from the Universities, and the “graduation” plague taking away the active students. Like UCSD’s group of faculty and staff, SDSU campus ministry has a constant: the Lutheran-Episcopal Campus Center. With an unknown future as SDSU plans a remodel for the religious centers, The Lutheran Episcopal Campus Center is still standing. A small but growing number of students seek a safe haven in the campus center. Young Adult and Campus ministry must address the needs of the “X” and “Y” generations – a safe haven, an escape from the busy, crazy, and faithless world; and relevancy and authenticity. If it has to be set somewhere other than a church parish hall, so be it. If it has to include Rite I Eucharist and ancient Hymns, so be it. If this has to include free food and beer, so be it.
We are no longer “the future of the Church.” We ARE the Church.
well, don't get your hopes up too high. here's an article that appeared in the san diego episcopal diocese paper (from my word doc, not the version the editor actually published... i think all she did was add a semi colon where i PURPOSELY LEFT ONE OUT... you know, for the annie dillard effect. sigh, oh well). goodness knows what the circulation is, but i have a feeling that every poor soul that signed an episcopal church guest book at some point in their lives somehow found themselves on the mailing list.
oh yeah, i'm episcopalian.
"campus ministry" or, the inflicted title, "we are no longer the future of the church. we ARE the church"---
Just over two years ago, I graduated from college. As I drove away from campus for the last time, tossing my ratty parking permit into the back seat (i.e. trash can) in all its overpriced glory, I had a nagging feeling of regret. Regret?! I just graduated from college, with a pretty decent GPA (despite organic chemistry), and I had, as the many droning graduation speeches professed, “the future in my hands.” So where was this regret coming from?!
UCSD had a fledgling campus ministry program. I was one of 3 students, and I usually worked during the Wednesday Eucharists. Buoyed by an utterly devoted group of faculty and staff, the UCSD Episcopal Student Association survived the inconsistencies and evasiveness of college students. I regretted not fully participating and supporting the program. But at the same time, I felt a sense of community and unconditional support – the campus ministry program survived despite me.
Young adult and campus ministry can sometimes be seen as the black sheep of all religious organizations everywhere. Why should we put money and effort into a program for people who won’t appreciate it? Nobody will come, anyway. And why can’t they just go to church like other adults? In San Diego, we say, “Well, they have Vocare. What more do they need?”
Vocare in the Diocese of San Diego is one of the most successful in the nation. However, staffing the weekends and participating in monthly social and service-based reunions isn’t enough for me. I am being spiritually fed, but I am still going home hungry.
We “young adults” are now a rabid mix of Generation X and the new, younger generation, sometimes tagged “Generation Y.” Generation X includes people who are well into their 30s (I believe the bracket for this arbitrary classification is 1960-1979). Young adults are getting younger – this year’s college freshmen were born in 1985: the “Y” generation. However, with such vastly different ages of people in need of “young adult” ministry, there is one common denominator. Rodger Y. Nishoka, Associate Professor of Christian Education at Columbia Theological Seminary in Decatur, GA, spoke at this year’s Come to the Feast conference on young adult and campus ministry. Nishoka insisted that young adults need authenticity. He’s right. In politics, our relationships, our culture, our music – everything has to be genuine and relevant. We don’t let this requirement slide for our religious and spiritual lives, either. An astounding number of young adults insist that they are spiritual, but when asked if they attend church, the answer is rarely yes. In the eyes of many GenX-ers and GenY-ers, the institution of the church has somehow avoided the “authentic” nomen over the years. Our task now is to make ourselves authentic.
College is generally a time in someone’s life where the church is “forgotten.” Some of the most active youth group members run off to college and don’t look back. However, this is generally not a conscious decision. It’s a mixture of needing to sleep in on Sunday mornings and a general unavailability of authentic and relevant spiritual and theological guidance on the campus.
Over the years, Episcopal Campus Ministry in San Diego has taken some hard hits from budget cuts, lack of support from the Universities, and the “graduation” plague taking away the active students. Like UCSD’s group of faculty and staff, SDSU campus ministry has a constant: the Lutheran-Episcopal Campus Center. With an unknown future as SDSU plans a remodel for the religious centers, The Lutheran Episcopal Campus Center is still standing. A small but growing number of students seek a safe haven in the campus center. Young Adult and Campus ministry must address the needs of the “X” and “Y” generations – a safe haven, an escape from the busy, crazy, and faithless world; and relevancy and authenticity. If it has to be set somewhere other than a church parish hall, so be it. If it has to include Rite I Eucharist and ancient Hymns, so be it. If this has to include free food and beer, so be it.
We are no longer “the future of the Church.” We ARE the Church.
tape flags are my best friend
...and other miracles of the 3M company...
seriously, i've always lived for post-it notes. but recently, a new technological advance found it's way onto my desk. tape flags. for those of you unfamiliar - they're little centimeter-wide, 2 inch-long sticky things, with a dash of color at the end that sticks out. you can use them as bookmarks (although NOT ON ARCHIVELY SENSITIVE BOOKS, according to library information desk people). they rock!
really, i live in a world (self-inflicted, i should add) where internal, innate organization is really lacking. i find that i have to turn to technology for help. if i spend money on cool storage bins and little sticky slivers of plastic, I TOO CAN LIVE BETTER. better living through chemistry! if i bring more stuff into my life, i can surely live more simply. um, no. even though i'm addicted to the matte khaki-splashed pages of Real Simple magazine, i catch myself wondering if it's all a big plot. of course it is.
soooo... tape flags: even though i am beginning to resent what organizational gimicks represent in my life, i need you. i need you to make me feel like i'm doing work. i need you to let me forget about a problem for now, and just "flag" it for later. i need you to give me sheer joy at the site of once-boring stacks of white paper with black ink now speckled with red! and blue! and yellow! and sometimes green, although for some reason, i'm always out of green.
i'm going to flag this for later.
...and other miracles of the 3M company...
seriously, i've always lived for post-it notes. but recently, a new technological advance found it's way onto my desk. tape flags. for those of you unfamiliar - they're little centimeter-wide, 2 inch-long sticky things, with a dash of color at the end that sticks out. you can use them as bookmarks (although NOT ON ARCHIVELY SENSITIVE BOOKS, according to library information desk people). they rock!
really, i live in a world (self-inflicted, i should add) where internal, innate organization is really lacking. i find that i have to turn to technology for help. if i spend money on cool storage bins and little sticky slivers of plastic, I TOO CAN LIVE BETTER. better living through chemistry! if i bring more stuff into my life, i can surely live more simply. um, no. even though i'm addicted to the matte khaki-splashed pages of Real Simple magazine, i catch myself wondering if it's all a big plot. of course it is.
soooo... tape flags: even though i am beginning to resent what organizational gimicks represent in my life, i need you. i need you to make me feel like i'm doing work. i need you to let me forget about a problem for now, and just "flag" it for later. i need you to give me sheer joy at the site of once-boring stacks of white paper with black ink now speckled with red! and blue! and yellow! and sometimes green, although for some reason, i'm always out of green.
i'm going to flag this for later.
homeownership
and i'm not talking metaphorically here. although, when do we ever own anything fully enough to make it a home..? that random place in time and space and miscellaneous z-vectors that houses the heart.
erik's parents are putting a bid on a house for us. so yes, even though our hearts may be there anywhere from a few months to a year from now, we won't *technically* own it anyway. at least for a few years.
does this make me feel odd? yes. does this make me feel like less of a person? not really. does this make me take back everything bad i've said about parents spoiling their children well into their twenties? absolutely.
okay, so the house is a condo. another kink in the homeowner nomen. we'd be condoowners. alright, condo-not-quite-owners.
then it's settled. i'm not going to say the word homeownership again.
in other news, i listened to dubya's speech in cincinatti last night on All Things Considered. i've decided that even though i hate him, he's a really good chamelion. remember when he was talking about thinning ("thinnin'") the forests in oregon? he managed to sound fully uneducated and biggoted. he just fits whatever situation he needs to fit. he spoke really calmly last night, and had a damn good speechwriter (even though i read somewhere that the writer is a loyal patron of starbucks... ask me what i think of THAT). i still think he's a shmoe and i still think war is bad. krieg ist ungesund für kindern und andere leben dinge!
i'm going to get to work now. more later. i probably won't talk anymore about war or starbucks, though, so we're safe for now.
and then some.
here i am again, wondering if sending thoughts into a wire or air or wherever information and signals ratify themselves before they appear on this screen in front of me is REALLY helpful or not. or if i'm just making my life more complex.
do we label things ineffable because we want it that way, or because things are truly too large or too abstract to which to assign words. (frankly, i really should have ended that sentence in a preposition, but something is holding me back. the grammar force. as erik would say (when i make a mistake) - there's a glitch in the force....) sooooo, back to my point. i just think that i easily chuck things into the realm of the indescribable because it's easier than making any sense of anything.
this weblog is a lesson in description.
welcome to my boycott of ineffableness.
and i'm not talking metaphorically here. although, when do we ever own anything fully enough to make it a home..? that random place in time and space and miscellaneous z-vectors that houses the heart.
erik's parents are putting a bid on a house for us. so yes, even though our hearts may be there anywhere from a few months to a year from now, we won't *technically* own it anyway. at least for a few years.
does this make me feel odd? yes. does this make me feel like less of a person? not really. does this make me take back everything bad i've said about parents spoiling their children well into their twenties? absolutely.
okay, so the house is a condo. another kink in the homeowner nomen. we'd be condoowners. alright, condo-not-quite-owners.
then it's settled. i'm not going to say the word homeownership again.
in other news, i listened to dubya's speech in cincinatti last night on All Things Considered. i've decided that even though i hate him, he's a really good chamelion. remember when he was talking about thinning ("thinnin'") the forests in oregon? he managed to sound fully uneducated and biggoted. he just fits whatever situation he needs to fit. he spoke really calmly last night, and had a damn good speechwriter (even though i read somewhere that the writer is a loyal patron of starbucks... ask me what i think of THAT). i still think he's a shmoe and i still think war is bad. krieg ist ungesund für kindern und andere leben dinge!
i'm going to get to work now. more later. i probably won't talk anymore about war or starbucks, though, so we're safe for now.
and then some.
here i am again, wondering if sending thoughts into a wire or air or wherever information and signals ratify themselves before they appear on this screen in front of me is REALLY helpful or not. or if i'm just making my life more complex.
do we label things ineffable because we want it that way, or because things are truly too large or too abstract to which to assign words. (frankly, i really should have ended that sentence in a preposition, but something is holding me back. the grammar force. as erik would say (when i make a mistake) - there's a glitch in the force....) sooooo, back to my point. i just think that i easily chuck things into the realm of the indescribable because it's easier than making any sense of anything.
this weblog is a lesson in description.
welcome to my boycott of ineffableness.
10.07.2002
the anti-work
given my obsessive attraction to message boards (lately it's been me going bridal at www.theknot.com), you'd think i didn't need something else to veer me away from my work. but here i am, developing a weblog that i can easily update... while at work!!!
i don't have an innate disrespect for my employer, in fact, i love my job, i love my boss, i'm pretty much indifferent towards the actual company. i don't know what it is. idleness? attention deficit? obsession with the internet? perhaps. i like all three.
and on the days when i hustle and get actual words written (i'm talking about work here), i feel like i should "reward" myself with a quick perusal online. so what could be considered lack of motivation actually motivates me to get stuff done.
i'm wondering how public to make this blog. i can't predict whether i'll want to use this site as a place to vent about my loved ones or not. probably not. i'm sure i'll send erik here to take a look, because there's nothing i will ever think that i wouldn't want to share with him. what do i enjoy about other peoples' weblogs? well, they're windows to their brains. i love that. but, then again, these are strangers' blogs i'm reading, so they're really just windows to strange brains. it'd be different if i knew the person. it'd be like sneaking between the matresses and reading their diary.
well, i'll use discretion when i write and spread the word about jde blog.
is wisdom a consequence of discretion? some would say (usually introverts). obviously (well, not obviously... you might not know me), i'm not a pure introvert. i'm not a pure extrovert, either. i wonder if there's a term for us sometimes-introverts-and-sometimes-extroverts... but anyway, i'm leaning towards discretion really not being useful at all. i don't think holding anything back makes me any better of a person, unless i'm being discrete (discreet?) with insults... but i also don't think rambling on about this, that, and the other will make me smarter.
yeah, yeah, i know wisdom and smartness and intelligence and knowledge are all different....
okay, away from the black hole of wisdom and discretion... back to the grey.
given my obsessive attraction to message boards (lately it's been me going bridal at www.theknot.com), you'd think i didn't need something else to veer me away from my work. but here i am, developing a weblog that i can easily update... while at work!!!
i don't have an innate disrespect for my employer, in fact, i love my job, i love my boss, i'm pretty much indifferent towards the actual company. i don't know what it is. idleness? attention deficit? obsession with the internet? perhaps. i like all three.
and on the days when i hustle and get actual words written (i'm talking about work here), i feel like i should "reward" myself with a quick perusal online. so what could be considered lack of motivation actually motivates me to get stuff done.
i'm wondering how public to make this blog. i can't predict whether i'll want to use this site as a place to vent about my loved ones or not. probably not. i'm sure i'll send erik here to take a look, because there's nothing i will ever think that i wouldn't want to share with him. what do i enjoy about other peoples' weblogs? well, they're windows to their brains. i love that. but, then again, these are strangers' blogs i'm reading, so they're really just windows to strange brains. it'd be different if i knew the person. it'd be like sneaking between the matresses and reading their diary.
well, i'll use discretion when i write and spread the word about jde blog.
is wisdom a consequence of discretion? some would say (usually introverts). obviously (well, not obviously... you might not know me), i'm not a pure introvert. i'm not a pure extrovert, either. i wonder if there's a term for us sometimes-introverts-and-sometimes-extroverts... but anyway, i'm leaning towards discretion really not being useful at all. i don't think holding anything back makes me any better of a person, unless i'm being discrete (discreet?) with insults... but i also don't think rambling on about this, that, and the other will make me smarter.
yeah, yeah, i know wisdom and smartness and intelligence and knowledge are all different....
okay, away from the black hole of wisdom and discretion... back to the grey.
forget the world... welcome LKC!
in a move even bolder than opening the blog to the world, julia told a friend.
welcome to my crazy hodgepodge of musings. hopefully this will free up your email in-box, bwahahahaha.
anyway, i can always trust you to laugh at what goes on in my head, and sometimes agree, relate, or sympathize, but nothing more :-)
love!
in a move even bolder than opening the blog to the world, julia told a friend.
welcome to my crazy hodgepodge of musings. hopefully this will free up your email in-box, bwahahahaha.
anyway, i can always trust you to laugh at what goes on in my head, and sometimes agree, relate, or sympathize, but nothing more :-)
love!
the beginning
today, monday of all mondays, october 7th, 2002. i begin this blog, using my well-trained alt-tab fingers, in secrecy.
who am i? i'm julia. i'm a writer in many ways, but i'm only paid to write user manuals. i'm getting married in just under a year, and i want to blog all of my thoughts and fears and happinesses and anger right here. i'm so excited to make this huge step with erik. it's not a beginning- we're already here. it's a step, a leap, a leaf to be turned, and i couldn't be more thrilled and afraid at the same time. i love erik with every ounce of my existence, and i can't wait to spend the rest of my life with him. i can, however, wait to spend the rest of my checking account on a tulle-infested shindig.
thanks for listening.
the end of the beginning, the beginning of the rest.
today, monday of all mondays, october 7th, 2002. i begin this blog, using my well-trained alt-tab fingers, in secrecy.
who am i? i'm julia. i'm a writer in many ways, but i'm only paid to write user manuals. i'm getting married in just under a year, and i want to blog all of my thoughts and fears and happinesses and anger right here. i'm so excited to make this huge step with erik. it's not a beginning- we're already here. it's a step, a leap, a leaf to be turned, and i couldn't be more thrilled and afraid at the same time. i love erik with every ounce of my existence, and i can't wait to spend the rest of my life with him. i can, however, wait to spend the rest of my checking account on a tulle-infested shindig.
thanks for listening.
the end of the beginning, the beginning of the rest.
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