part of my future social reform platform
there really needs to be a better way to book a bikini wax appointment from work.
5.30.2003
the great bridge reconstruction project of 2003
so, remember how in this post, "this bridge will self-destruct in five seconds," someone commented on how disappointing the serbian lover was for trading in the cool old boat car for a shiny new jetta??
well, he didn't.
i saw steven at the pete yorn concert the other night. and yes, i didn't avoid him this time.
we talked for a while, and then when it came time to introduce erik, i couldn't bring myself to say, "this is my fiance, erik," like a lameass excited engaged person who likes the sound of the word "fiance." i didn't think it was appropriate.
instead: "steven, this is erik. we're getting married."
i also brought up the fact that i had seen him at the gas station in his jetta.
"what?"
"i saw you! i swear! at the mira mesa chevron! in a blue jetta! a few weeks ago!"
"oh!!!!!!!!!!!!!! yeah, that was me. i had rented the jetta so i could drive to the bay area. i'd never get rid of my boat."
so, all is well in the world again. bridges are rebuilt. jettas are rented. pete yorn rocked.
so, remember how in this post, "this bridge will self-destruct in five seconds," someone commented on how disappointing the serbian lover was for trading in the cool old boat car for a shiny new jetta??
well, he didn't.
i saw steven at the pete yorn concert the other night. and yes, i didn't avoid him this time.
we talked for a while, and then when it came time to introduce erik, i couldn't bring myself to say, "this is my fiance, erik," like a lameass excited engaged person who likes the sound of the word "fiance." i didn't think it was appropriate.
instead: "steven, this is erik. we're getting married."
i also brought up the fact that i had seen him at the gas station in his jetta.
"what?"
"i saw you! i swear! at the mira mesa chevron! in a blue jetta! a few weeks ago!"
"oh!!!!!!!!!!!!!! yeah, that was me. i had rented the jetta so i could drive to the bay area. i'd never get rid of my boat."
so, all is well in the world again. bridges are rebuilt. jettas are rented. pete yorn rocked.
5.29.2003
home
with me, you are home.
warm
encompassing
enveloping
enrapturing
fluid
home
there's something about the scent of a man -- a scent so subtle compared to the sweat and the woman, open, ready -- that is often overlooked but never forgotten. i smell you in grocery stores, pottery, tortillas, clay, mud.
i feel you when i shift my body differently in the chair, leaning forward and arching my back to stretch. i feel where you were, where you should be.
come home.
with me, you are home.
warm
encompassing
enveloping
enrapturing
fluid
home
there's something about the scent of a man -- a scent so subtle compared to the sweat and the woman, open, ready -- that is often overlooked but never forgotten. i smell you in grocery stores, pottery, tortillas, clay, mud.
i feel you when i shift my body differently in the chair, leaning forward and arching my back to stretch. i feel where you were, where you should be.
come home.
5.28.2003
late(ish) night miscellany
i really like being called jules.
i think this blog needs a little dark red. brick red, if you will. perhaps even E51717, at the suggestion of austin, my web angel.
jason bentley really needs to hand over some of those cool jobs he's hoarding. really, i'd be happy with just one.
i miss jeff buckley.
5.27.2003
the first love, part IV of the continuing "prose manifestations of past loves" series
(read part I, part II, and/or part III.)
today we're going to learn all about nick, my second real boyfriend ever and my first "real," mature love.
haha, yeah, i'm not sold on the mature part, either.
we met at the always news-worthy "thong check high." we were in band and track together. ah, the blossoming romance of band geeks. i liked to think of it as a track star romance, but no. we were bandos first, track stars second. and then again, he was the only track star... i could only squeeze out a six minute mile and a 14 minute two mile.
as friends, nick was pretty much an asshole to me, but in an endearing way. he was really smart and great with kids. however, he wasn't so great with adults, and i was usually embarassed to be with him.
he was bow-legged. it was unbelievably sexy. and even though i constantly denied it, he looked like kevin bacon. so much so that our friends would make him say kevin bacon movie quotes all the time.
i'd cite two landmark events in the development of our relationship: the band hawaii trip april of our junior year (nick put that hideous green aloe gel on my vicious sunburn and stuck up for my adorable toes when someone made fun of them), and prom night of our junior year (yeah, we didn't go. he didn't ask. but instead, he and i went bowling and ate taco bell takeout in his big white pontiac).
eventually, pretty much right around finals that year, we started officially dating. holding hands around school. doing each other's homework. avoiding our parents. making out in the back of our cars in a retired-people's neighborhood. you know, the usual.
we did everything together - it was unbelievable. we didn't share faith, though. to explain to me his (lack of) faith, he said: "i don't know, some people need god. i just don't need god in my life right now." oh, and rather than saying "julia is away this weekend on a church retreat," he'd say "julia's off fucking other christians."
intrinsically, senior year of high school is a pretty intense time to be in a relationship.
when i was rejected to UCLA (bastards!) and he was accepted, something clicked. our band director said he could easily get me into their music program for winter quarter, i just needed to give him the go ahead. i thought to myself, a) i can't be a music major! too much pressure! what if i suck! i'll never make money! and b) there's some reason i wasn't accepted to UCLA. some reason that i might not understand or appreciate. so i sucked it up and went to UCSD.
nick and i stayed together our freshman year of college. it was actually a pretty cool gig. i perfected my tortured romantic letter-writing skills. we'd fall asleep talking to each other on the phone. i became fast best friends with my future roommate, julia, who's boyfriend also had abandoned her for the UCLA music program. (yeah yeah, the coincidences were pretty eerie). i put some serious san diego-los angeles miles on my champagne beige 1987 ford escort station wagon.
eventually, i just fell out of love with him.
throughout the school year, i'd see him every two weeks or so, for a weekend. by the end of those weekends, i was ready to get away. i didn't really notice this until the summer, when he moved back to san diego. i'd get sick of him. aye, there's the rub of long-distance relationships, i'd say.
in july of 1997, i broke up with him. i had just travelled to philladelphia for a church convention (yes, off fucking christians again), and realized that at this point in my life, it was important, no critical that: a) i was in love with the person i was sleeping with, and b) i was either in a relationship with someone who would support my faith, or not in a relationship at all.
this was all simple and understandable to me, however, try explaining that to a 19 year old boyfriend of two years. good times.
despite the sad way it all ended, nick and i had a great time together. i didn't really understand love until he came into my life. i didn't know that i could give so much of myself to another person but not feel empty.
(read part I, part II, and/or part III.)
today we're going to learn all about nick, my second real boyfriend ever and my first "real," mature love.
haha, yeah, i'm not sold on the mature part, either.
we met at the always news-worthy "thong check high." we were in band and track together. ah, the blossoming romance of band geeks. i liked to think of it as a track star romance, but no. we were bandos first, track stars second. and then again, he was the only track star... i could only squeeze out a six minute mile and a 14 minute two mile.
as friends, nick was pretty much an asshole to me, but in an endearing way. he was really smart and great with kids. however, he wasn't so great with adults, and i was usually embarassed to be with him.
he was bow-legged. it was unbelievably sexy. and even though i constantly denied it, he looked like kevin bacon. so much so that our friends would make him say kevin bacon movie quotes all the time.
i'd cite two landmark events in the development of our relationship: the band hawaii trip april of our junior year (nick put that hideous green aloe gel on my vicious sunburn and stuck up for my adorable toes when someone made fun of them), and prom night of our junior year (yeah, we didn't go. he didn't ask. but instead, he and i went bowling and ate taco bell takeout in his big white pontiac).
eventually, pretty much right around finals that year, we started officially dating. holding hands around school. doing each other's homework. avoiding our parents. making out in the back of our cars in a retired-people's neighborhood. you know, the usual.
we did everything together - it was unbelievable. we didn't share faith, though. to explain to me his (lack of) faith, he said: "i don't know, some people need god. i just don't need god in my life right now." oh, and rather than saying "julia is away this weekend on a church retreat," he'd say "julia's off fucking other christians."
intrinsically, senior year of high school is a pretty intense time to be in a relationship.
when i was rejected to UCLA (bastards!) and he was accepted, something clicked. our band director said he could easily get me into their music program for winter quarter, i just needed to give him the go ahead. i thought to myself, a) i can't be a music major! too much pressure! what if i suck! i'll never make money! and b) there's some reason i wasn't accepted to UCLA. some reason that i might not understand or appreciate. so i sucked it up and went to UCSD.
nick and i stayed together our freshman year of college. it was actually a pretty cool gig. i perfected my tortured romantic letter-writing skills. we'd fall asleep talking to each other on the phone. i became fast best friends with my future roommate, julia, who's boyfriend also had abandoned her for the UCLA music program. (yeah yeah, the coincidences were pretty eerie). i put some serious san diego-los angeles miles on my champagne beige 1987 ford escort station wagon.
eventually, i just fell out of love with him.
throughout the school year, i'd see him every two weeks or so, for a weekend. by the end of those weekends, i was ready to get away. i didn't really notice this until the summer, when he moved back to san diego. i'd get sick of him. aye, there's the rub of long-distance relationships, i'd say.
in july of 1997, i broke up with him. i had just travelled to philladelphia for a church convention (yes, off fucking christians again), and realized that at this point in my life, it was important, no critical that: a) i was in love with the person i was sleeping with, and b) i was either in a relationship with someone who would support my faith, or not in a relationship at all.
this was all simple and understandable to me, however, try explaining that to a 19 year old boyfriend of two years. good times.
despite the sad way it all ended, nick and i had a great time together. i didn't really understand love until he came into my life. i didn't know that i could give so much of myself to another person but not feel empty.
5.24.2003
daddy's girl
today i talked for a ridiculously long time about my relationship with my father.
i'm left feeling sad for the childhood i didn't have and the familial relationships i didn't have.
i'm left feeling poignant for how much my dad cared about me, and how all he ever really wanted was for me to make it. all he ever wanted was a good life for me.
i'm left feeling angry for letting that memory of the steak-throwing-incident and the memories of the hidings resurface.
i'm left feeling nostalgic for thinking about the way he told me a few days after said steak-throwing-incident that i was his favorite.
i'm left feeling pathetic for remembering how i just stared at the silverware i was drying, not responding, not saying "i love you, dad" or "thanks" or anything. something.
today i talked for a ridiculously long time about my relationship with my father.
i'm left feeling sad for the childhood i didn't have and the familial relationships i didn't have.
i'm left feeling poignant for how much my dad cared about me, and how all he ever really wanted was for me to make it. all he ever wanted was a good life for me.
i'm left feeling angry for letting that memory of the steak-throwing-incident and the memories of the hidings resurface.
i'm left feeling nostalgic for thinking about the way he told me a few days after said steak-throwing-incident that i was his favorite.
i'm left feeling pathetic for remembering how i just stared at the silverware i was drying, not responding, not saying "i love you, dad" or "thanks" or anything. something.
5.23.2003
5.22.2003
farewell, sweet yellow cottage
yesterday, erik and i cleaned up all the dirt and spiderwebs from my slightly overpriced storage and mail sorting cottage. actually, we basically just transferred said dirt and spiderwebs onto ourselves.
i'll miss golden hill and south park. i'll miss being close to hillcrest and northpark and east village and downtown.
i'll miss the hip urban culture and indie espresso bars.
i'll miss the view of the downtown skyline from b street.
i'll miss the way the 5 hooks around towards the pershing/b street exit, with the beautiful golden hill slope on one side of you, and the coronado bridge on the other.
i'll miss living alone, and organizing my books and cds however the hell i want.
and believe it or not, i'll miss the 5 seconds of rattling noise as i look up to see the underbelly of a plane, upwards of a few hundred feet above me. did i mention that this happens every 10 minutes or so between the hours of 6:30am and midnight?
i will NOT miss creepy alley phone sex guy, though.
yesterday, erik and i cleaned up all the dirt and spiderwebs from my slightly overpriced storage and mail sorting cottage. actually, we basically just transferred said dirt and spiderwebs onto ourselves.
i'll miss golden hill and south park. i'll miss being close to hillcrest and northpark and east village and downtown.
i'll miss the hip urban culture and indie espresso bars.
i'll miss the view of the downtown skyline from b street.
i'll miss the way the 5 hooks around towards the pershing/b street exit, with the beautiful golden hill slope on one side of you, and the coronado bridge on the other.
i'll miss living alone, and organizing my books and cds however the hell i want.
and believe it or not, i'll miss the 5 seconds of rattling noise as i look up to see the underbelly of a plane, upwards of a few hundred feet above me. did i mention that this happens every 10 minutes or so between the hours of 6:30am and midnight?
i will NOT miss creepy alley phone sex guy, though.
5.21.2003
woman as salvation, riiiiight.
i've just sort of been commissioned to write a song for a man to sing.
someone tell me what's so goddamn great about women, because i'm not feeling all that representative of the fairer sex right about now.
although maybe the kind of person i am right now would make for a much more interesting song than some perfect, fair, beautiful, and intoxicating doll-like woman would.
i've just sort of been commissioned to write a song for a man to sing.
someone tell me what's so goddamn great about women, because i'm not feeling all that representative of the fairer sex right about now.
although maybe the kind of person i am right now would make for a much more interesting song than some perfect, fair, beautiful, and intoxicating doll-like woman would.
5.20.2003
balm
last night felt like late summer.
shoulders and arms bare
moonlight
windows down
holding the steering wheel, i shrug my shoulders up and feel the cool, firm, smooth skin of the tops of my arms against my face and my lips.
i close the windows - a sudden and inexplicable need for privacy.
warmth fills the car.
the strands of hair that didn't quite stay tied back stick against the nape of my neck.
part of me wants to be on a road trip in the heat of summer with a fabulous friend and fabulous music and no AC (again).
the other part of me just wants to focus on the amazing phone call cradled between by ear and shoulder in it's tiny metal and plastic packaging. forget the moon. forget the balmy late-summer-esque mid-may night.
nothing can measure up to a quiet conversation between good friends.
last night felt like late summer.
shoulders and arms bare
moonlight
windows down
holding the steering wheel, i shrug my shoulders up and feel the cool, firm, smooth skin of the tops of my arms against my face and my lips.
i close the windows - a sudden and inexplicable need for privacy.
warmth fills the car.
the strands of hair that didn't quite stay tied back stick against the nape of my neck.
part of me wants to be on a road trip in the heat of summer with a fabulous friend and fabulous music and no AC (again).
the other part of me just wants to focus on the amazing phone call cradled between by ear and shoulder in it's tiny metal and plastic packaging. forget the moon. forget the balmy late-summer-esque mid-may night.
nothing can measure up to a quiet conversation between good friends.
5.19.2003
morning miscellany
last night, as i was about to leave the pharmacy, someone pulled up to my car and started to confess that he had cheated on his wife with a man, and was confused, frustrated, suicidal, and needed to talk to someone. he also said he's a catholic palm reader, which i thought was pretty cool. weird and "of course you're gay," but hey, still not the kind of person you meet in parking lots late at night all the time. i hope he wasn't just pretending when he dialed numbers on his cell phone to call the operator or the center or something like i asked. part of me also thinks the situation was so unreal that i will probably show up on a future episode of jackass or the jamie kennedy experiment or whatever the kids are watching these days.
a brief note about The Sex Scene in the matrix:reloaded (yes, i was right. yes, they had sex. yes, they had kick...ass...sex. (elipses added to avoid gratuitous google hits). but no, there were no kung fu moves involved. it wouldn't have fit with the beautiful candlelit scene)... anyway, i was overcome. fully. here's a glimpse into my mind during that scene: 1. dude, i need to be trinity right now. 2. wait, i'd be totally fine with being neo, too. 3. what the hell, i just need to have that. (and then there was the less pertinent thought #4: hmmm, even though i understand and respect what it signifies, their naked backs are totally ugly.)
when you've planned a church event that involves dinner, beer, and No Talk About Jesus Whatsoever, and you find out that 4 or so of your dearest friends all got together at another restaurant for dinner instead, it's totally understandable to feel a little disappointed and worthless.
figuring out a way to tell people that you're planning on meeting up with some strange blogger man in an airport on the east coast isn't as easy as it should be. i can just see it now: "what? he has the word "kill" in his url?"
rather than taking a gaggle of pictures with my purloined work digicam, the Mavica, i spent more time fielding jokes about how old and huge it is. (yes, i'm talking on my cell phone. yes, i'm all about the technology).
this song is currently rocking my world (in an alt-country-rockin' sort of way): rhett miller, "four eyed girl."
my eyes are open nobody's napping
she says you don't wanna miss a minute of me...
la la la, i'm in love with a four eyed girl
she knows how to move me, she knows how...
5.16.2003
die freitag fünf
1. Welches Trinkwasser magst Du am liebsten - Leitungswasser, Mineralwasser aus der Flasche, gereinigtes etc.?
hmmm. how do i drink my water? i'm definitely a bottled water girl. i live 30 minutes from the mexican border. i'm also fine with filtered water if the need arises. and i'll drink tap water if it's all there is, but i'll be sure to complain about it. ja voll, ich liebe wasser!
2. Was ist bei Chips Deine Lieblings-Geschmacksrichtung?
favorite chips? hmm. first, let's just say a little bit about the german language. i love the presence of the word "lieblings" everywhere. you use it to indicate favorite. you could also endearingly call someone you loved "meine lieblings." i think. i would.
anyway, i don't necessarily like this kind of food, but if you have to eat chips, they have to be salt n' vinegar. mmm.
3. Von allen Sachen, die Du kochen kannst, welches Gericht isst du am liebsten?
of all the things i can cook, what is my favorite? well, i'm a big fan of my special recipe green tea tofu. i also like the vegetable sautées i put together. anything with zucchini and snap peas makes julia a happy girl.
4. Wie magst du Deine Eier?
how do i make eggs? very rarely. i don't eat eggs too much, and when i do, they're usually baked into cakes.
5. Wer war der letzte, dem du etwas zu essen gekocht hast? Wie war's?
the last time someone else cooked for me, and how was it... well, last night. the ever fabulous heidi. special recipe mac-n-cheese. she had tossed in saltines, sweetened milk, and about 50,000 calories worth of cheese. hell yes.
every thursday night, anywhere from 5-20 of us gather together at a friend's house to watch tv, eat together, and have a grand time. we take turns cooking. thursdays are really my favorite day of the week because of this.
thanks for bearing with the deutsch. es macht späß, ja?
1. Welches Trinkwasser magst Du am liebsten - Leitungswasser, Mineralwasser aus der Flasche, gereinigtes etc.?
hmmm. how do i drink my water? i'm definitely a bottled water girl. i live 30 minutes from the mexican border. i'm also fine with filtered water if the need arises. and i'll drink tap water if it's all there is, but i'll be sure to complain about it. ja voll, ich liebe wasser!
2. Was ist bei Chips Deine Lieblings-Geschmacksrichtung?
favorite chips? hmm. first, let's just say a little bit about the german language. i love the presence of the word "lieblings" everywhere. you use it to indicate favorite. you could also endearingly call someone you loved "meine lieblings." i think. i would.
anyway, i don't necessarily like this kind of food, but if you have to eat chips, they have to be salt n' vinegar. mmm.
3. Von allen Sachen, die Du kochen kannst, welches Gericht isst du am liebsten?
of all the things i can cook, what is my favorite? well, i'm a big fan of my special recipe green tea tofu. i also like the vegetable sautées i put together. anything with zucchini and snap peas makes julia a happy girl.
4. Wie magst du Deine Eier?
how do i make eggs? very rarely. i don't eat eggs too much, and when i do, they're usually baked into cakes.
5. Wer war der letzte, dem du etwas zu essen gekocht hast? Wie war's?
the last time someone else cooked for me, and how was it... well, last night. the ever fabulous heidi. special recipe mac-n-cheese. she had tossed in saltines, sweetened milk, and about 50,000 calories worth of cheese. hell yes.
every thursday night, anywhere from 5-20 of us gather together at a friend's house to watch tv, eat together, and have a grand time. we take turns cooking. thursdays are really my favorite day of the week because of this.
thanks for bearing with the deutsch. es macht späß, ja?
5.15.2003
thank you thank you thank you
to the person who called my cubicle neat. thank you, you poor misguided soul.
to the person who called my cubicle neat. thank you, you poor misguided soul.
sex and scottish accents sell.
i have two very minimal expectations of the matrix:reloaded:
that's not much to ask, is it?
i have two very minimal expectations of the matrix:reloaded:
1. trinity and neo have sex. great sex, in fact, because they kick ass. perhaps there'll even be some kung fu moves involved.
2. elrond/hugo weaving secures the golden spot in my mind as Best Accent Ever, replacing sean connery and that one guy who does readings at my church.
that's not much to ask, is it?
5.14.2003
serenity, now!
i am not wasting my life away in a horrible sandy-beige carpeted box.
i am not going to sacrifice any financial stability i may think i have on a little shin-dig in september.
the little brown sun hat i bought this weekend was totally worth it. skin cancer would be much more expensive.
neither my ovaries nor my cervyx are going to twist themselves in knots, rip themselves out, or eat up any other intestines.
i am not going to get sick just because i'm replacing sleep with espresso.
there is nothing wrong with writing this sentence in an email to a friend going to a renaissance fair: "enjoy all the geek girl cleavage that's bound to be, well, abound. and bound, technically."
i am not useless, and nor am i a failure. even though i can't convince the leaders of my church that they're mere steps away from being corporate whores.
see? i'm fine.
see? i'm fine.
5.13.2003
5.12.2003
this bridge will self-destruct in five seconds
so today at the gas station, i swear on all that is holy that i saw steven, you know, this guy from my dirty past.
i was just pulling out of the station as he pulled in. of course, i really should have stopped and talked to him. but did i? no. i drove quickly away. i'm not really sure why. but i really feel like my gut reaction to seeing anyone from my past - friends, lovers, anyone - is that i should avoid them - that i've probably burned a bridge with them anyway.
but i really didn't burn any bridges with steven. we parted really sensibly, if i might say so myself. i probably just did burn the bridge, though, by driving away from him instead of stopping and catching up with him. he was always so nice and friendly to everyone.
so even though he's traded in his awesome ancient boat car for a shiny new jetta, he still has his long red hair.
so today at the gas station, i swear on all that is holy that i saw steven, you know, this guy from my dirty past.
i was just pulling out of the station as he pulled in. of course, i really should have stopped and talked to him. but did i? no. i drove quickly away. i'm not really sure why. but i really feel like my gut reaction to seeing anyone from my past - friends, lovers, anyone - is that i should avoid them - that i've probably burned a bridge with them anyway.
but i really didn't burn any bridges with steven. we parted really sensibly, if i might say so myself. i probably just did burn the bridge, though, by driving away from him instead of stopping and catching up with him. he was always so nice and friendly to everyone.
so even though he's traded in his awesome ancient boat car for a shiny new jetta, he still has his long red hair.
5.11.2003
blogtheory
eric j's fantastic article at webraw: weblogs will save the world.
it's a must-read. nice work, eric. did everyone know he was my first real reader here?
eric j's fantastic article at webraw: weblogs will save the world.
it's a must-read. nice work, eric. did everyone know he was my first real reader here?
5.09.2003
so this is what i do when erik is out of town:
after working for oh, about a six hour day, i step out into the sunshine at 4:30pm.
just in time to get home, breathe, and meet cool-music-friend-and-neighbor janine. i've never done anything with janine that didn't involve music or alcohol. or paint (long story). after seeing her at every single concert for a while, i finally introduced myself at the something corporate/young dubliners show a year or two ago. turns out she has an unhealthy obsession with pete yorn and we're neighbors. hell yes.
anyway, our intent was to walk to the excruciatingly close karl strauss brewery garden. apparantly there's a rain gutter, a hill, a fence, and a huge amount of hedge and fucking pseudo iceplant in our way, but for some reason, i'm convinced we can scout out a short cut. half an hour later, after several wrong turns and dead ends, we finally arrive at uncle karl's. janine slyly takes off her cardigan and works her clear-some-space-at-the-bar magic, and before i know it, i've drank an entire russian imperial stout. oh, by the way, i'm generally toast after an inch of the dark beer variety sipped slowly with dinner.
we both had plans for later in the evening, so we decide to get up (oh gees) and attempt to find a short cut again and go home. of course, it was right in front of us. success! drunken success! i can't believe i made it over the fence without breaking something of mine or the fence's!
here's my final in-depth cost/benefit analysis on the new short cut:
oh what the hell. these things make us stronger.
after working for oh, about a six hour day, i step out into the sunshine at 4:30pm.
just in time to get home, breathe, and meet cool-music-friend-and-neighbor janine. i've never done anything with janine that didn't involve music or alcohol. or paint (long story). after seeing her at every single concert for a while, i finally introduced myself at the something corporate/young dubliners show a year or two ago. turns out she has an unhealthy obsession with pete yorn and we're neighbors. hell yes.
anyway, our intent was to walk to the excruciatingly close karl strauss brewery garden. apparantly there's a rain gutter, a hill, a fence, and a huge amount of hedge and fucking pseudo iceplant in our way, but for some reason, i'm convinced we can scout out a short cut. half an hour later, after several wrong turns and dead ends, we finally arrive at uncle karl's. janine slyly takes off her cardigan and works her clear-some-space-at-the-bar magic, and before i know it, i've drank an entire russian imperial stout. oh, by the way, i'm generally toast after an inch of the dark beer variety sipped slowly with dinner.
we both had plans for later in the evening, so we decide to get up (oh gees) and attempt to find a short cut again and go home. of course, it was right in front of us. success! drunken success! i can't believe i made it over the fence without breaking something of mine or the fence's!
here's my final in-depth cost/benefit analysis on the new short cut:
pro: you can quickly stumble home, emission-free, while slightly immobilzed by stout.
con: you may not want to stumble home while slightly immobilized by stout if it involves hopping over a 10 foot fence/wall thingy. and getting pieces of pseudo iceplant in your sandals.
oh what the hell. these things make us stronger.
friday five
1. Would you consider yourself an organized person? Why or why not?
yes. marginally. selectively. whatever. i will be unbelievably organized about certain things, but embarassingly and pathetically disorganized about others. my car is a mess. i have suitcases and boxes that have stuff in them that i haven't looked or thought about in years. i have "piles" of things to shred. but my work inbox is carefully partitioned into projects and their components. it rocks. my shower routine is impeccable. then there's the Giant Wedding Planning Notebook i made. if you're envious, you should be. it's gorgeous. but then there's the calendar thing... see the next question.
2. Do you keep some type of planner, organizer, calendar, etc. with you, and do you use it regularly?
well, i have several. i have my outlook calendar at work. there's a calendar in the Giant Wedding Planning Notebook. then i have a calendar hanging on my wall at work. i also circle dates in the stupid tiny calendar on the back of the checkbook register. there are lots of things circled, and i think the circles mean that i'll either be getting my period, my organic farm share delivery, or my paycheck that day. i should probably color code them or something so as not to be surprised.
3. Would you say that your desk is organized right now?
perhaps. it's messy, but i know where everything is. i have a towering file system of projects and manuals. most of the important stuff, however, isn't in the towering file system. in fact, here is my cubicle. dreary, eh?
i have things pinned to the walls and post-its stuck to my desk that i have officially blocked out. who knows what they're for. they're just part of the landscape now.
my desk at home is another story. it has an unhappy ending.
4. Do you alphabetize CDs, books, and DVDs, or does it not matter?
i do not alphabetize, but hell yes, organization matters. however, my chosen life mate has a different CD organizational style. it's going to be our Big Issue as married people, i think.
i organize CDs and books strangely. there really is no catalogable system. it's definitely more along the lines of rob gordon's "autobiographical" arrangement. whether or not the cd or book is a current favorite determines part of where the item will be filed. the genre of the cd or book determines part of where the item will be filed. the point in my life in which i enjoyed the cd or book the most determines part of where the item will be filed. it basically all comes down to two simple rules:
a) you can't organize my stuff alphabetically!!!
and
b) nobody else can organize them except me. and YES, the pile of loose cds without cases is actually organized. don't touch it, you hoser! i fucking know what i'm doing!
sorry.
5. What's the hardest thing you've ever had to organize?
not sure... it's all hard to organize if you:
a) are starting from scratch
b) are a perfectionist
c) give up easily
now, i have a sudden urge to tidy up my desk.
1. Would you consider yourself an organized person? Why or why not?
yes. marginally. selectively. whatever. i will be unbelievably organized about certain things, but embarassingly and pathetically disorganized about others. my car is a mess. i have suitcases and boxes that have stuff in them that i haven't looked or thought about in years. i have "piles" of things to shred. but my work inbox is carefully partitioned into projects and their components. it rocks. my shower routine is impeccable. then there's the Giant Wedding Planning Notebook i made. if you're envious, you should be. it's gorgeous. but then there's the calendar thing... see the next question.
2. Do you keep some type of planner, organizer, calendar, etc. with you, and do you use it regularly?
well, i have several. i have my outlook calendar at work. there's a calendar in the Giant Wedding Planning Notebook. then i have a calendar hanging on my wall at work. i also circle dates in the stupid tiny calendar on the back of the checkbook register. there are lots of things circled, and i think the circles mean that i'll either be getting my period, my organic farm share delivery, or my paycheck that day. i should probably color code them or something so as not to be surprised.
3. Would you say that your desk is organized right now?
perhaps. it's messy, but i know where everything is. i have a towering file system of projects and manuals. most of the important stuff, however, isn't in the towering file system. in fact, here is my cubicle. dreary, eh?
i have things pinned to the walls and post-its stuck to my desk that i have officially blocked out. who knows what they're for. they're just part of the landscape now.
my desk at home is another story. it has an unhappy ending.
4. Do you alphabetize CDs, books, and DVDs, or does it not matter?
i do not alphabetize, but hell yes, organization matters. however, my chosen life mate has a different CD organizational style. it's going to be our Big Issue as married people, i think.
i organize CDs and books strangely. there really is no catalogable system. it's definitely more along the lines of rob gordon's "autobiographical" arrangement. whether or not the cd or book is a current favorite determines part of where the item will be filed. the genre of the cd or book determines part of where the item will be filed. the point in my life in which i enjoyed the cd or book the most determines part of where the item will be filed. it basically all comes down to two simple rules:
a) you can't organize my stuff alphabetically!!!
and
b) nobody else can organize them except me. and YES, the pile of loose cds without cases is actually organized. don't touch it, you hoser! i fucking know what i'm doing!
sorry.
5. What's the hardest thing you've ever had to organize?
not sure... it's all hard to organize if you:
a) are starting from scratch
b) are a perfectionist
c) give up easily
now, i have a sudden urge to tidy up my desk.
5.08.2003
shine in my heart...
for a limited time...
this is me playing my re-written version of "i want to walk as a child of the light."
please, ignore the annoying stage banter. it won't happen again. and ignore the poor quality. i'm working on getting it as an mp3 file, not this silly whatever-it-is-format.
update: i took the link down for a while. hold, please!
for a limited time...
this is me playing my re-written version of "i want to walk as a child of the light."
please, ignore the annoying stage banter. it won't happen again. and ignore the poor quality. i'm working on getting it as an mp3 file, not this silly whatever-it-is-format.
update: i took the link down for a while. hold, please!
5.07.2003
it's bad, it's bad...
i pretty much don't have anything to talk about right now, mostly because i have spilled my guts completely on three separate occaisions today. i don't know how to spell occaision. instead, you'd think i would pick a new word, but hey man, i need to embrace my weaknesses.
anyway - thus, i'm tired and sucked dry. i'm feeling an unbelievable and overwhelming mixture of sappiness and hopefulness and fear and disgruntledness.
so instead of being deep and introspective, i'll tell you about the Best. Dream. Ever. it happened this morning at 3am. no wait, it was actually the Worst. Dream. Ever... but who's counting...
i'm wondering if i should be more concerned by the presence of michael jackson in my dream, or by the presence of blue painter's masking tape. TWO INCH THICK blue tape, at that.
and i promise you, i'm not taking any mind-altering drugs before i go to bed.
i pretty much don't have anything to talk about right now, mostly because i have spilled my guts completely on three separate occaisions today. i don't know how to spell occaision. instead, you'd think i would pick a new word, but hey man, i need to embrace my weaknesses.
anyway - thus, i'm tired and sucked dry. i'm feeling an unbelievable and overwhelming mixture of sappiness and hopefulness and fear and disgruntledness.
so instead of being deep and introspective, i'll tell you about the Best. Dream. Ever. it happened this morning at 3am. no wait, it was actually the Worst. Dream. Ever... but who's counting...
first off, let me tell you that the main characters in the dream were Michael Jackson, LL Cool J, and blue painter's masking tape. an important side note is that i am utterly disgusted by michael jackson. utterly. i can't stomach the thought of the man/thing. ll cool j, however... i don't know much about him, but i had been discussing him with my good friend austin recently.
anyway, apparantly, michael jackson was pissed off. he was raging. ll cool j shows up, and jacko starts to tell him off. jacko has a high pitched voice, as if he were some comedian impersonating jacko. ll cool j rightly sees this whole situation as funny. and oh man, when jacko is raging, you must know NOT TO LAUGH AT HIM. so (and you have to picture this), michael jackson takes his little pasty hand and pushes ll cool j. saying something like, "don't mess with me bro."
ll cool j laughs more, partly in disbelief, partly in appreciation for the comedic scene at hand.
anyway, jacko pulls out a gun and points it, shakingly, at ll cool j. so ll cool j walks away, shaking his head.
scene change: ll cool j's house or studio or office or something. michael jackson has broken in, and is vandalizing the place. his weapon of choice? the blue painter's masking tape. oh hell yes. you know he means business because he's splurged for the 2" thick roll. anyway, he's taping everything up. wrapping the blue tape around recording equipment, TVs, the desk, his furniture, you name it.
eventually, ll cool j comes home, with a friend and a kid. they're all understandably laughing and recounting the earlier wacko jacko incident. michael jackson hears them coming so, to hide (hopefully), he dives into the giant pile of stuffed animals that ll cool j has in the corner of the room. because that's something ll cool j would TOTALLY have in the corner of the room.
anyway, then i woke up.
i'm wondering if i should be more concerned by the presence of michael jackson in my dream, or by the presence of blue painter's masking tape. TWO INCH THICK blue tape, at that.
and i promise you, i'm not taking any mind-altering drugs before i go to bed.
5.06.2003
poor, confused google
to the person who found my blog by searching for "promiscuity amongst college students," i really hope you found what you were looking for. here at jde.blogspot.com, we aim to please.
to the person who found my blog by searching for "promiscuity amongst college students," i really hope you found what you were looking for. here at jde.blogspot.com, we aim to please.
rem
so i've been dreaming lately that i'm pregnant. in the last week, i've had THREE different pregnancy dreams.
the best part? in each dream i had been impregnated by a different person. i don't remember who one of them was, incidentally. hehe.
one of them was very realistic - erik and i had to count the months to see how much i'd be showing for the wedding, and i was concerned that people would only think we were getting married because he'd knocked me up. i remember thinking that i'd rather wear a big baggy wedding dress than change the date and admit defeat. because wearing a big baggy wedding dress would be nowhere near admitting defeat, of course...
somebody needs to take a shot at figuring out what this means.
my dream persona had a really cute little pot belly, though.
so i've been dreaming lately that i'm pregnant. in the last week, i've had THREE different pregnancy dreams.
the best part? in each dream i had been impregnated by a different person. i don't remember who one of them was, incidentally. hehe.
one of them was very realistic - erik and i had to count the months to see how much i'd be showing for the wedding, and i was concerned that people would only think we were getting married because he'd knocked me up. i remember thinking that i'd rather wear a big baggy wedding dress than change the date and admit defeat. because wearing a big baggy wedding dress would be nowhere near admitting defeat, of course...
somebody needs to take a shot at figuring out what this means.
my dream persona had a really cute little pot belly, though.
5.05.2003
and that's why we lutherans use grape kool-aid for the blood of christ
i kid you not:
not only did i spend yesterday evening with a bunch of bonafide lutherans from minnesota (complete with accents), but they were also serving coffee and bars. i had to strain to stop myself from quoting amber atkins all night.
uh, gladis, we need more bars!
i kid you not:
not only did i spend yesterday evening with a bunch of bonafide lutherans from minnesota (complete with accents), but they were also serving coffee and bars. i had to strain to stop myself from quoting amber atkins all night.
uh, gladis, we need more bars!
5.02.2003
blow this
maybe it's just because i've never used one before, but i think that our suburban love affair with leaf blowers epitomizes our inherent nature to a) spread our problems thin until they're no longer noticeable, b) tuck our problems away as if under a rug, or c) blow them far enough away until they're somebody else's problems.
oh, and it helps if the above are acheived by burning fossil fuels.
maybe it's just because i've never used one before, but i think that our suburban love affair with leaf blowers epitomizes our inherent nature to a) spread our problems thin until they're no longer noticeable, b) tuck our problems away as if under a rug, or c) blow them far enough away until they're somebody else's problems.
oh, and it helps if the above are acheived by burning fossil fuels.
5.01.2003
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