tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-58050802011-07-08T08:07:32.812-04:00Lost and FoundNail clippers, scissors, black pens and driver's licenses.JMnoreply@blogger.comBlogger4661100tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5805080.post-55684374007300781902010-06-28T23:27:00.002-04:002010-06-28T23:33:25.495-04:00Surprise.The biggest surprise about getting older is that no matter what I've learned, no matter what experiences I've been though, no matter what my influences are, I still have the ability to make poor decisions, to hurt people. The difference, though, is that with age comes realization. I now recognize when I've disappointed, when I've caused others pain. No logic or reason can undo what's JMnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5805080.post-10036144077025490332009-08-17T12:26:00.002-04:002009-08-17T12:36:38.334-04:00Stuck.I went to a therapist for six months about a year ago to learn how to read myself. It's an incredible skill and I think that everyone should do it.I'm going to whisper something to the one reader who still visits this site: I think I may have outgrown my job. Perhaps this is a fleeting thing. I don't know. After you learn to read yourself, according to my therapist (or, perhaps, me... maybeJMnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5805080.post-68051924877380117112009-02-24T12:03:00.004-05:002010-07-30T15:10:06.446-04:00Research.I'm currently writing a piece on the new blog about going to Maine with Maya. I went into the archives of this blog to see some details. While conversing with Maya about the old times via gchat, she brought up a point. "I love how some hurricane down south ended up being Katrina."Interesting that my first experience with what will go down in history as one of the worst disasters to hit JMnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5805080.post-90386698779453553812009-01-28T01:29:00.004-05:002009-01-28T01:47:35.438-05:00The Light.The Subway near Nate's apartment in DC had a sign on the door. It would be open 24 hours during the Inauguration. This was our first stop on the morning of the 20th. Prior to last week, I'd never experienced breakfast at Subway before. I can't say that it was amazing, but I will say that it was a necessity.It took three hours to travel the mile from the apartment to the Mall. At first, JMnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5805080.post-32505503531097503972008-12-23T13:25:00.002-05:002008-12-23T13:52:52.180-05:00City Council.My man-friend thinks that I should run for City Council. I do not think that this is such a good idea, but I've been stewing on it for the past half an hour or so. According to Facebook, I have a lot of friends. Maybe these people will vote for me. Voting for me might fall somewhere in between writing a "Happy Birthday" comment on my wall and showing up to a social event.I've been JMnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5805080.post-38420966575022882672008-12-18T00:52:00.002-05:002008-12-18T01:12:30.233-05:00The Middle.I just got back from a road trip across the United States. There were things that were planned: meals, cities, visits with friends and family. And then there were the things in the middle, the parts that could not be scheduled in advance. I saw, in a sense, a firsthand encyclopedia entry on the United States of America.I saw industries: pistachios, cotton fields, oil rigs, wind power, JMnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5805080.post-17899281525652471762008-11-05T22:01:00.004-05:002008-11-05T22:38:47.207-05:00Patriotic.The New York Times website has a feature that artistically displays, in a single word, the feelings of both John McCain and Barack Obama supporters. The word that I put down yesterday afternoon, during some downtime in our get out the vote operation, was Patriotic. A first, perhaps. True, I'm proud of our country, and have been for quite some time. My first visits to third world JMnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5805080.post-88538122701022390362008-10-30T10:21:00.002-04:002008-10-30T10:37:36.453-04:00Trail Tales.I'm canvassing for the Obama campaign in the inner city this week. Here is an interaction from yesterday.As I approach the door, I hear the familiar interaction of barking dogs, and a yelling owner, "Shut up!" My papers tell me that I'll be speaking with a 20 year-old girl who already has her absentee ballot.She shyly opens the door and comes onto the front porch. I do my regular JMnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5805080.post-45836846806114236282008-10-22T14:19:00.002-04:002008-10-22T14:33:22.997-04:00Oh My God.I just returned from a Women's Club meeting, the social engagement where nine times a year, I step outside of my comfort zone to eat a three course meal with women who love talking about home renovations, their grandchildren and what it was like to wear white gloves while being courted. Today was a meaningful day for two reasons. For the first time in my two-year (three-year?) women's JMnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5805080.post-14614651906525630812008-09-23T14:44:00.002-04:002008-09-23T15:01:08.733-04:00Being Prepared.I've never been one to watch the financial markets, or to go out of my way to understand what happens on Wall Street, but I guess the fallacy that this whole financial collapse was based on is the idea that home values can only go up. As I think back on my home-purchasing process, I vaguely recall my financial adviser (yes, I had a financial adviser) say something along the lines JMnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5805080.post-16096751686852040082008-09-19T15:45:00.002-04:002008-09-19T15:57:59.297-04:00Power.I was preparing for an Obama House Party on Sunday night when the power went out, due to Hurricane Ike. It's strange to think that a hurricane could hit Ohio, and even stranger to be without power for five days (and counting) while the weather is absolutely beautiful. These are the inconveniences of rainstorms, blizzards.While this situation has caused me to meet many of my neighbors, it's JMnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5805080.post-65105495124428145082008-09-08T18:47:00.002-04:002008-09-08T19:08:21.791-04:00Moving Forward.I want to start writing in the blog again, but I don't know where to start, how to catch up on the months and weeks of silence. I could write a soliloquy about the virtues of Autumn in Ohio (cicadas, burning leaves, political rallies) but I've been there, done that. So I'll do a list. Catch y'all up. And then move forward.1. I'm getting my windows capped with aluminum. To keep out JMnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5805080.post-31271030199222980002008-08-19T10:56:00.002-04:002008-08-19T11:26:39.719-04:00A Question.WCBE kept me hostage in my car this morning after I got to work with a Joan Baez cover of "Day After Tomorrow," a politically-charged song by Tom Waits and Kathleen Brennan. First and foremost, when I am in charge of things, Joan Baez will not be allowed to cover any Tom Waits songs. Despite the horridness of the song, I could not leave the Civic until it was over.The song places the JMnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5805080.post-73754434339619412182008-08-11T15:28:00.002-04:002008-08-11T16:08:41.124-04:00Gun Show.I went to a gun show yesterday morning, as a part of my cultural growth. My goal was to learn three things about people and three things about guns. My friend's goal was to buy a shotgun. We were both successful in the Sunday morning venture.Many friends and family were stunned by my decision to go, as well as by gun shows in general. I think that for me, the most shocking part was just JMnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5805080.post-48639725805395520332008-07-29T10:44:00.003-04:002008-07-29T10:51:09.654-04:00Alley.One of my new favorite things to do is to put stuff in or around the trash cans in the back alley and watch people slow down to inspect. Today I watched a man in a van take away a broken fan and a busted trash can. (This is beginning to sound like Dr. Seuss.) I have no idea who he is or what he does with the stuff. Scrap metal? Resale? Does he fix it up and give it to the underprivileged? IJMnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5805080.post-23531156437745174322008-07-08T11:59:00.004-04:002008-07-08T16:55:58.610-04:00Food And Life.[But] either-or is a construction more deeply woven into our culture than into nature, where even antagonists depend on one another and the liveliest places are the edges, the in-betweens or both-ands.Michael Pollan, in his book, The Omnivore's Dilemma, writes this in reference to the complexity of natural farming. Simply put, everything within and surrounding a farm has the abilityJMnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5805080.post-77161905712794824922008-06-25T17:55:00.002-04:002008-06-25T18:13:55.302-04:00Craigslist Groups from June 2008 in Which I Would Not Fit.Black Professionals Coffee Break Anti-Age Skin Care Meetup Group: Spa Event!Strongman/woman training for fitness, fat loss, and sports performance (I don't have the arm muscles to start my lawn mower.)Baby Sign LanguageMommies Time OutSpirit Xtreme Dance and Cheer AcademyNew Moms Group Vegan Grub for Earth: AR Activists and Veg*nsBiggest JMnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5805080.post-72917471434590728772008-06-25T00:52:00.002-04:002008-06-25T00:58:43.318-04:00An Evolution.Biology. It was probably my least favorite subject in high school, and my Visual Communication degree in college helped me steer clear of all sciences in general. There are so many things that I failed to learn, things that I don’t understand, that it’s been much easier to ignore the genre altogether than to grapple with even the basic knowledge that more learned people – or more JMnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5805080.post-63203264097151031492008-06-12T18:09:00.002-04:002008-06-12T18:19:09.105-04:00Thursday Evening.A summer thunderstorm, cutting through the day's humidity, flowing cool air through the house. Sans air conditioner, sans effort.Hickory smoked bacon, cut, crispy. Soon to top a mound of pasta with generous portions of red onion. The first dish I ever ventured to make - in a kitchen on Pentonville Road in London - contained these fine ingredients.A book, a beer, an JMnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5805080.post-50022415706672188802008-06-10T15:06:00.002-04:002008-06-10T15:10:13.904-04:00Blog Update.I'm going to see Tom Waits in 18 days. Also, I have a sunburn from gardening.JMnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5805080.post-13090001150621738602008-05-22T00:31:00.005-04:002008-05-22T01:04:41.862-04:00Grandma.The smell of scotch reminds me of Grandma; she'd have a glass every evening before bed. Scotch and macaroni noodles in butter and empty cottage cheese containers and the smell of mildew bring her back to life in my mind. When I lived in Chicago, I used to call her, tell her of my job woes. The company I freelanced for would not hire me.Give me his number, I'll give him a piece of my mind,JMnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5805080.post-52089058259428304702008-05-20T15:35:00.002-04:002008-05-20T15:47:42.614-04:00Land.One of the reasons that I love driving (okay, riding) to Sunbury to hang with the high school kids is that I love seeing the (as for now) undeveloped land. I get to see horizons as they were originally designed, land whose value is not for what is on top of the soil, but land whose value lies within its soil. Fields. Ponds. Streams. Farms. I love it. Love it. It must be a side effect from JMnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5805080.post-73428980861294631622008-05-16T21:24:00.003-04:002008-05-16T21:42:45.479-04:00Shades of Grey.The Malibu has been out of commission for a month and a half. A month and a half is as long as I can survive in Columbus without my own means of transportation without shaking violently from lack of freedom. Its current resting place is Byer's Circle, a land of on-the-cheap repair shops and strip clubs. The fate of the silver machine has yet to be decided: sold as scrap metal, JMnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5805080.post-73303199412633065762008-04-28T14:50:00.002-04:002008-04-28T15:02:55.670-04:00Crap."The thing with the Democrats," said the seventeen year old girl from semi-suburban Columbus sitting at my table eating soft tacos from Taco Bell on Saturday morning, "is that they want to give all the money to the poor. When they do that, we're left with nothing. We don't have crap. We should give it to the rich and middle class so that we can hire the poor."Luckily, the soft taco was mushyJMnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5805080.post-13065142837611380182008-04-23T13:48:00.003-04:002008-04-23T14:22:15.684-04:00Birthday Girls.The first one, she's not afraid of what anyone thinks of her. Bright colors, loud talking, questionable public snuggling and a strong personality. She encourages freedom, which can't help but make me think of Jesus. This is the way God is: not about to fuck around; he makes a statement and goes with it. There's no turning back. The first girl, she taught me that loving God is not JMnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5805080.post-34023600909143447162008-04-16T14:24:00.003-04:002008-04-16T14:47:18.869-04:00Things That I've Done Between The Last Post and Now:1. I chased down a kid off of Cleveland Avenue because I was pretty sure he had my laptop in his backpack. I'm 90 percent sure that he did. I used 10 percent of my brain when I decided to fling my skinny white self in his direction while bringing a minor with me. When I caught up to him, it dawned on me that I had no plan beyond reaching him. JMnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5805080.post-40074131679863404742008-03-10T13:17:00.003-04:002008-03-10T13:32:00.648-04:00Stories.It took 40 minutes (and the help from a stranger with a mustache) to remove my car from my parking space this morning. Unfortunately, my camera was at work this weekend, so I couldn't properly record our snowfall in Columbus. Nonetheless, it was noteworthy. I enjoyed being stuck in my neighborhood for several days. Snow storms are a good occasion for meeting neighbors. Mustached and not. JMnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5805080.post-31178110075124500802008-03-03T10:43:00.003-05:002008-03-03T10:57:22.739-05:00Obama '08Ohio's in the spotlight again; tomorrow we'll get to help decide if Hopes and Dreams or Pantsuits will be running against John McCain in the general election. Word on the street (according to the media) is that Hillary will prevail in the Buckeye State. Thing is, I know exactly two people who are voting for her. I'm not one of them.JMnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5805080.post-69718035863800340632008-02-29T14:13:00.002-05:002008-02-29T14:22:50.203-05:00Adult GPAI feel like I took too many classes and now I'm getting B's and C's in everything. And, perhaps, a D+ in health. I spent another week in bed. Three weeks ago, it was most likely the flu. This time, it's sinusitus and bronchitus. As a result, I'm missing all sorts of meetings and shirking on countless responsibilities. Friendship 301: B- (For not even bothering to return phone calls or JMnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5805080.post-22794933043457287182008-01-29T12:26:00.000-05:002008-01-29T12:38:48.692-05:00Food. In Three Parts.I.I'm staring at the cover of February's Gourmet magazine, waiting for my lunch date to call. Everything in me covets the grilled cheese with onion jam, taleggio and escarole featured on the magazine. What I'm going to get, however, is something from Subway. I don't think that taleggio is one of their cheese options. II.Can I talk a little bit more about Sunday's coffee date JMnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5805080.post-85043682171164402942008-01-28T11:42:00.000-05:002008-01-28T12:08:11.980-05:00Coffee.I abuse coffee. More often than not, I drink coffee for the side effects: warmth, caffeine, that caramel color it leaves my teeth. Late yesterday morning, I pulled myself from bed to meet T. for coffee. We'd been texting for days about the coffee date. She picked me up and we decided to try La Chatelaine, the Worthington location. I've been to this French bistro for dinner a few times, as JMnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5805080.post-33444048194931934132008-01-08T11:52:00.000-05:002008-01-08T14:09:42.970-05:00New Happy.Hillary owns land on Zanzibar Island, off the coast of Tanzania. The Africans I spoke to love her. And they love Barack, as well. They hope that aid, trade, an interest in their corrupt government will increase with the election of one of these Democrats.I learned about the overall interest in American politics while on a motor boat in the Indian ocean, headed out to Changuu, otherwise JMnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5805080.post-52899151180037883552008-01-07T13:11:00.000-05:002008-01-07T13:13:27.759-05:001980's.Songs from the Flashdance soundtrack are on the Muzak in the store. Also, leg warmers, footless tights and leggings are in style. I feel uncomfortable.JMnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5805080.post-38288054580580092092008-01-03T12:02:00.000-05:002008-01-03T12:20:07.556-05:00Wonderings.I can't eat food until 3 p.m. today. All I want, of course, is food. How typical. I'm getting bloodwork done this afternoon, to see if I have some crazy Tanzanian microbe living in me. Me and my microbe. I've been daydreaming about Tanzania, about its people, its food. Part of me still wants to be there. Refugees from Kenya are starting to flow into Northern Tanzania, now. I can JMnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5805080.post-78758879966080312522007-12-29T01:47:00.000-05:002007-12-29T01:49:23.895-05:00Special Friday Night Post.I just remembered Athens. Breathing is easier there. More dreams, more distractions. And the air is sharper, more cutting. I probably spend too much time indoors.JMnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5805080.post-61583593030213133622007-12-27T16:55:00.001-05:002007-12-27T16:55:32.321-05:00Bittersweet Farewell.The year is coming to a close. A sigh of relief. 2007, I’m done with you. One of my favorite things about the Bible is that it emphasizes the fact that struggles, pain and the unexpected do not go unrewarded. My septuagenarian friends in the Women’s Club could pass along this wisdom as well. Each trial in life comes with strength in character. Living is not easy, and it neverJMnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5805080.post-85764257130670200732007-12-11T16:54:00.000-05:002007-12-11T17:04:27.191-05:00A Look Inside the Minds of Men.My male coworkers have been the source of much amusement as of late. Today, one of them purchased flowers - a nicely arranged assortment of wildflowers - for his lady friend."Clint!" I screamed across the front of the grocery store, "You're buying flowers! Flowers! For a girl! We should make a big deal about this." "No," Clint sighed, "We shouldn't."I looked at the JMnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5805080.post-11393175468248829042007-12-05T08:57:00.000-05:002007-12-05T09:08:47.472-05:00Girl/Adult.Ryan woke me up this morning to tell me about the snow. I didn't mind; a fresh clean blanket of snow is worth losing a little sleep. My mind whirled through thoughts as I processed the fact that the Malibu is half covered and winter is finally here.It went something like this:1. This snow will look good with my new finnish mittens from the thrift store! (Seriously; these mittens were aJMnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5805080.post-89033130621554236382007-12-04T00:00:00.000-05:002007-12-04T00:15:23.418-05:00Existential Moment at the Gas Station."This is the first time I've seen you smile."I looked up at the gas station guy. I had no idea who he was, no idea that he'd been monitoring my facial expressions from afar. My face must have contorted to confusion because he explained himself. "I used to work at the coffee shop," he said, "And you would come in and never smile."I didn't know what to say, howJMnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5805080.post-54216656843878513512007-12-01T12:48:00.000-05:002007-12-01T12:53:16.799-05:00Things I Learned About Last Night While Talking to Complete Strangers at a Cowboy and Indian Themed Birthday Party. The history of the pipe organ.The progression of the Mennonite church.Jam Bands are a musical marriage of rock and roll and jazz.My college choir teacher was apparently "a douche".JMnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5805080.post-58260457813077666052007-11-12T11:58:00.000-05:002007-11-12T12:31:42.321-05:00Good Question.An interesting question came up this morning in Book Club. Me and my septagenarian feminine gang just finished reading "Suite Francaise," a novel written by a Russian-born Jewish writer living in France in the time of the German occupation during the second world war. This novel was recently discovered and published; the author died at Auschwitz before the book could be printed. A JMnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5805080.post-72053500510598846762007-11-05T10:10:00.000-05:002007-11-05T11:32:21.598-05:00Reviews.#1: The Darjeeling Limited.It's been eons since my film minor days at Ohio University. For four years, I camped out in the dark rooms of Lindley Hall, analyzing Coppola, Hitchcock and Godard films for future papers. These days, I don't go to a lot of movies. Mainly, I suppose, because I don't know what's out there. The underwriting department at my local NPR station recently snagged Fox JMnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5805080.post-61926155230355718872007-11-02T14:21:00.000-04:002007-11-05T10:09:58.947-05:00Deux.Yesterday was a bad day. Job stuff. House stuff. People stuff. Money stuff. I spent a good half of the day on the verge of weeping. Except I was too confused as to what to start weeping for. The job stuff? The house stuff? The people stuff? So many issues, so little time!So I broke down, bought a pack of cigarettes and chain-smoked a few for a good half an hour. Shockingly, I didn't feel JMnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5805080.post-18559519353425950892007-10-31T13:49:00.000-04:002007-10-31T14:12:51.848-04:00Second Hand.I've somehow returned to my weight and size from the days of ole. We're talking size two here. It's something that I don't entirely understand, and feel a little weird talking about, as most women my age are concerned about their weight in a different way. At any rate, I'm smaller, and a little self conscious about it, truth be told. I sleep on my side at night, and recently, my kneesJMnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5805080.post-758154474778319022007-10-30T10:26:00.001-04:002007-10-30T10:33:11.995-04:00Truth = Freedom.Ani DiFranco graced my NPR airwaves this morning and I felt a gush of freedom fill the Malibu.I don't like Ani DiFranco, I thought, and I never have.I started to create a list of bands or musicians that, throughout the years, I've pretended to like, in order to fit in with a crowd, gain affirmation or be someone I'm not. Here is the list, in order of appearance in my life.Harry JMnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5805080.post-29813269688710424022007-10-29T16:00:00.000-04:002007-10-29T16:15:41.213-04:00No Mayo, Please.Yesterday, I went to the Wendy's in Sunbury dressed as a Christmas Elf. I thought that it would be amusing to show up to the high school Bible study in a costume, even though no one else would be disguised for the autumnal holiday. Head to toe in red and green, fresh from a shopping trip at Big Lots, I looked ridiculous. From green eyeshadow to fuzzy socks with stuffed animals JMnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5805080.post-76869630361976722922007-10-15T10:48:00.000-04:002007-10-15T11:16:54.163-04:00Dirty French Music.My life has been permanently changed. For two reasons. For one, I went to my first OSU football game this past Saturday; I watched a bunch of men run around, throw a ball, and keep Kent State from having integrity for roughly three and a half hours. I also ate a four dollar hot dog and drank a four dollar Diet Coke. Neat.So. I think that I'm probably a changed woman. I can't JMnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5805080.post-61099515398788494652007-10-03T11:26:00.000-04:002007-10-03T11:28:10.594-04:00TV.Did anyone see "The Biggest Loser" last night? Wow. I was on the edge of my couch seat the entire time. I totally thought the trainers were going to eat those cupcakes.I'm glad that they didn't though. I mean, they have to practice what they preach, right? Those guys have some strong character.JMnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5805080.post-3823383358032308032007-10-01T12:38:00.000-04:002007-10-01T13:16:33.204-04:00Learnin'I took a non-fiction creative writing course this summer online through Columbus State Community College. (As clearly evidenced by the increased flow of incredible essays, quips and prose presented on this blog.) This class reminded me what joy it is to create, to learn, to practice a skill that reminds me who I am in times when distractions and stresses seem to thwart that truth.The JMnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5805080.post-47380406133977787892007-09-27T13:46:00.000-04:002007-09-27T14:15:57.386-04:00Wedding-ish Pictures.I didn't get a lot of pictures at Sarah's wedding, though my camera was around for a few shots. Take a look.Pre-wedding portraits. Sarah and I got ready too quickly and ended up watching HGTV in the hotel room for an hour.The two of us. She looks better than I do, but that's her job. She's the bride.Before we got our hair done, we stopped at Mojo Lounge for some water and JMnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5805080.post-55757960690551083122007-09-13T12:19:00.000-04:002007-09-13T13:24:14.358-04:00Food and Weather.In high school, all of my poetry was about trees and God. Ten years later, all I want to write about is the weather and food. It's not that there aren't writeworthy things going on in my life. It's the contrary, really. In the last month, I've been in Tanzania with Beth. I've been in North Carolina on a beach-centered church retreat. Wedding season is here, as well. One wedding JMnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5805080.post-86836812536884178942007-08-28T15:30:00.000-04:002007-08-28T15:46:39.054-04:00Beautiful Africa.Maybe the pictures can say more than I can right now. Jet lag. At the Shalom Center for Street Children.A new shirt.Take my picture.Trifecta. The middle one is named Loveness. From the foothills of Mount Kilimanjaro in Moshi.Zanzibar looks like a pirate haven.Sailing in the Indian Ocean.Beth and I.This one was my favorite. Are you allowed to have favorites? Runny nose. All the JMnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5805080.post-32281975599318031212007-08-09T15:25:00.000-04:002007-08-09T16:03:27.998-04:00Ohio Summer.It's been an Ohio summer. When I was in Cambodia last summer, riding along the dirt roads and looking at the rice paddies bounce by, I found myself missing rural Ohio, her landscape, her miles and miles of corn and soybeans, her people, her tiny towns and gas stations. It's been nearly a year, and I'm happy to say that I've done a few things that have helped bring me back to the Ohio JMnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5805080.post-82448137940623622822007-07-30T14:30:00.001-04:002007-07-30T14:52:17.848-04:00Ready.I miss Autumn. I do. I know that these are supposed to be the best days of the year, but I'm not nine years old anymore. Or fourteen. While I would love to be exploring the riverbed just half a mile north of where I'm currently (pretending to be) working, I have responsibilities. Yuck.So. I dream of crisp cool mornings where I rush out the door with a cup of coffee in my hand. I will most JMnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5805080.post-3740469699531398892007-07-27T18:01:00.001-04:002007-07-27T18:12:46.111-04:00Africa Trip.When I went to Cambodia, a little less than a year ago, I wasn't excited until I boarded the plane. The preparation - the fundraising, the shots, the packing, the goodbye's - preoccupied me until those final few minutes in the airport. And then, hours later, I was in Singapore, wild with the possibility of meeting the Cambodian people, a group that had occupied much of my prayer life JMnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5805080.post-21005707756871728952007-07-17T11:57:00.000-04:002007-07-17T11:59:04.279-04:00One Line.I am going to go to Africa in a month.JMnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5805080.post-1044114440059343472007-07-11T16:36:00.000-04:002007-07-11T16:44:15.652-04:00Punch This.So I'm throwing a Bridal Shower for my lovely friend Sarah, and (don't read this, Sarah) I was looking up punch recipes on Martha Stewart's website. I know that making punch for this party is silly, because mimosas trump punch in all social situations. But every Bridal Shower has punch and I don't want to fuck up the beginning of their marriage by taking away tradition. So, Sarah (JMnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5805080.post-18750480482964151512007-07-10T16:05:00.000-04:002007-07-10T17:07:18.855-04:00Halfway.I started a prayer journal a little over a year ago. It's a simple book, a black moleskin number with the elastic band. I keep a pen inside the journal, to mark my place and assure that I won't be forced to write out my prayers with a mediocre writing utensil. I schedule prayer. I have to. Otherwise I'll forget. And trying to live a spiritual life without prayer is like trying to sail a JMnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5805080.post-51513032137668872902007-07-06T14:34:00.000-04:002007-07-06T14:48:13.917-04:00More.I'm kind of afraid that somehow one of the women will come across this and I'll get fired from my unpaid role on the Board of Directors. But this stuff is too good not to pass along. I find it amusing, at least.I receive a phone call today.Me: Jill speaking.Woman: Hi Jill, this is So-and-so from the Women's Club. I heard you were having a difficult time coming up with a theme for the summer JMnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5805080.post-10059838949601453882007-07-02T13:57:00.000-04:002007-07-02T14:12:04.158-04:00Summer Social.An e-mail from someone in Women's Club, regarding the party that is scheduled to happen in less than three weeks:There are a few things I wanted to talk to you about. The executive board met the other day, and decided that we do not want a "Luau" because they do not want to do any work. The theme we came up with was, "Lazy Days of Summer". Can you revise the invite? Also, she wants JMnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5805080.post-81939539417992446862007-06-29T15:15:00.000-04:002007-06-29T15:36:20.413-04:00Hungry.I forgot, for a little bit, what it was like to read great fiction on a rainy summer evening. Day after day of humidity and heat build up, until finally, the skies relax, the cool breeze comes and I become a sigh. Pressure disappears and the important things become less dire. Tomorrow can wait until tomorrow, because I have a book to read. And, finally, it's raining. For the past few days,JMnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5805080.post-69855153726299028232007-06-25T15:27:00.000-04:002007-06-25T16:05:55.511-04:00Auto Update.So, it's been a week since the accident and I hate to admit it, but my back hurts. This is quite unfortunate, as the man who hit me, the one that I made a grand effort to be kind and friendly to, had no auto insurance.I learned a few days later, as I was on the phone with State Farm, as they told me that "the vehicle was not insured at that date and time."I was speechless, trying not JMnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5805080.post-39449677386644577202007-06-21T12:07:00.000-04:002007-06-21T12:12:26.745-04:00Plans.I've somehow found myself on the Board of Directors for the Women's Club. I'm the Social Director, and my first role is to plan the summer social for the ladies.I ran into the President of the club outside the bakery the other day. She's been sending e-mails, suggesting that I don't need to do all the work myself, that I need a planning committee.Me: Hi there. President: Hi Jill. Did you JMnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5805080.post-43577076559124124082007-06-19T13:16:00.000-04:002007-06-19T13:32:07.396-04:00Back Pain.I got rear-ended yesterday on my way home from work. For the record, when an SUV and a Chevy Malibu get into a fight, the SUV wins. As I got out of my car on the off-ramp to 315 to check out the damage, the guy who hit me was in a self-depreciating state of rage, swearing at himself and shaking his head. I almost wanted to apologize to him, but it wouldn't make sense. I'm sorry my car JMnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5805080.post-33504713218081824642007-06-18T13:23:00.000-04:002007-06-18T13:56:51.841-04:00Mini Me.So there's this girl in the high school Bible study who reminds me so much of myself as a teenager, that it's kind of painful.Although she's charming, adorable and artistic in nature, she's incredibly insecure. She begs for attention but won't talk to anyone. Every week, she shows up in some sort of ensemble, hot off the runway of the early nineties. My favorite outfit was a combination JMnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5805080.post-68470945744966549042007-06-13T15:38:00.000-04:002007-06-13T15:55:13.500-04:00Language Shift.When I first started doing the high school youth group thing over a year ago, I was appalled by the language of the masses of thirteen year-old boys. Never having had a brother, I wasn't prepared for a lot of things that came with the boys. Like the desire to kill each other (in a loving, Godly way, of course) and the ability to control one's own flatulence. I had different JMnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5805080.post-4928400140170370492007-06-12T13:19:00.001-04:002007-06-12T13:52:20.340-04:00Food."I guess God doesn't want me to eat." I remember complaining to friends the summer after my senior year of high school. We were on a tour, spreading mediocre musical theatre to the midwest in the name of the Lord, and I was having digestion problems. It seemed that every time I ate, I felt sick. This problem, incidentally, did not disappear with the changing of the seasons, as my nutrition JMnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5805080.post-47638956131300608592007-06-08T00:28:00.000-04:002007-06-08T00:46:57.977-04:00Birthday Party.I went to a birthday party tonight for a friend who has known me longer than most anyone that I know. He's seen me through the insecurities and heartbreak that come with being fifteen years old; he's heckled and encouraged me through years of finding who I am, who I was designed to be. And most recently, he's given me the opportunity to be a real friend to him. I am thankful for JMnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5805080.post-81302975977002125642007-06-04T14:19:00.000-04:002007-06-04T15:07:42.300-04:00Lost Letters.The media are reporting today on an amazing collection of letters found in a Swiss laundry room. These letters, written by Napoleon, Churchill, Mahatma Gandhi and others are part of a collection that will soon be auctioned in London.I'm just as guilty as the next person for the decline of one of the most truly intimate art forms of human history: the hand-written personal letter.Why JMnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5805080.post-50561466832930360222007-05-29T14:16:00.000-04:002007-05-29T22:22:51.764-04:00Dance Moves.This weekend, thanks to the sacred vows taken by my cousin and her new husband, Ryan, I had the opportunity to watch my dad dance. It was a strange yet familiar sight, watching him flail about. Although there were some differences - he doesn't do the fake Irish step dancing or sloppy swing dance moves - he looked remarkably like me. Awkward and dorky, grinning with self-consciousness.JMnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5805080.post-73626651761579566182007-05-24T17:26:00.000-04:002007-05-24T17:30:21.123-04:00Breathing Techniques.Several months ago, I had a panic attack that lead to me hyperventilating in the parking lot of an office complex, en route to a library function. Unable to breathe, and therefore, drive, I somehow managed to guide myself to pull over, park the car, and make phone calls for help. The horror of not being able to breathe did nothing more than feed more panic into my system, JMnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5805080.post-11131024517328514262007-05-22T15:34:00.000-04:002007-05-22T16:05:30.492-04:00Censor Bar.I do a lot of editing in my mind before I write a post for this here blog. I try to censor out the emotional stuff, the private stuff, the too-much-information stuff, the make-people-uncomfortable stuff and the no-one-really-cares stuff. Basically, I try to combine all seventeen of my readers' minds into one prototype and try to write stuff that I think that he or she would want to JMnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5805080.post-9565977849536537552007-05-21T15:48:00.000-04:002007-05-21T15:59:20.617-04:00Great Deal.I planted a Japanese cherry blossom stick over the weekend. Several weeks ago, I found a website that sells all sorts of trees. I waited a few days, not wanting to make an impulse buy (because a tree is a serious purchase), and then revisited the site with credit card in tow, ready to commit to my tree for a mere $15 including shipping. And then I waited. And waited. And waited for my JMnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5805080.post-7390406883877468402007-05-15T15:55:00.000-04:002007-05-15T16:19:10.666-04:00Some music can be dangerous for the heart. I'm doing well. I am. But then a song comes up on the iTunes. A song, perhaps, that I'd avoided for the past several months, for fear of the emotions that it might bring me.I picked up Plans at a music shop somewhere in Maine with Maya. We were in a tiny coastal town somewhere south of Bar Harbor. I remember finding a ridiculous cd there - Milli Vanilli JMnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5805080.post-78788802259918835552007-05-15T12:08:00.000-04:002007-05-15T12:09:42.897-04:00Gross.I had a dream last night that I had a sideways hitler mustache (about a quarter inch wide) growing between my eyebrows. It was absolutely horrible. I think that I'm going to go get my eyebrows waxed, just in case.JMnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5805080.post-71405421825800063302007-05-07T11:25:00.000-04:002007-05-07T15:02:18.103-04:00Girlfriends.Throughout this weekend, I found myself in clusters of women. There's something about when women get together. It all comes out. Whether "it all" is emotion, silliness, or crassness. (Crassness? Crassicity?) Walls come down. I love it. It started on Friday night, when Susie and I decide to baptize my front stoop with free Killian's. (Not necessarily my favorite beer. Someone once toldJMnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5805080.post-21499780482215971562007-05-03T09:53:00.000-04:002007-05-03T11:24:10.925-04:00The Dream."We wait in hope for the LORD; he is our help and our shield.In him our hearts rejoice, for we trust in his holy name.May your unfailing love rest upon us, O LORD, even as we put our hope in you." Psalm 33:20 ffI was feeling hopeless last night. All day, actually. I had a dream Tuesday night that left me in a day-long state of panic. In my nighttime drama, friends JMnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5805080.post-85503848802758368302007-05-01T11:58:00.000-04:002007-05-01T12:43:37.065-04:00Grown Up.I feel like Richard Marx has been waiting for me since the mid 1990's. He's definitely one dude with endurance. But I'm just not his type.I went on some errands yesterday, and saw a glimpse of my reflection on a car in the parking lot of Hobby Lobby. I stopped and looked longer, because I, like the rest of humanity, am perfectly happy looking at myself. What I saw in the side of the JMnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5805080.post-49324410202599946142007-04-24T21:30:00.000-04:002007-04-24T21:33:24.229-04:00Two Pictures.JMnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5805080.post-85472286371182344642007-04-24T12:20:00.000-04:002007-04-24T12:43:29.704-04:00Please Come Back.The laptop is broken. She's getting a new hard drive, but it's taken almost a week to recover old files, and will take several more days until that process is complete. So that means that e-mailing, blogging, watching Grey's Anatomy, looking at my calendar appointments, doing actual work at work and listening to my music have all been a little difficult to do as of late. My JMnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5805080.post-64581006699662457572007-04-17T11:29:00.000-04:002007-04-17T11:58:52.789-04:00Back In Gear.It took me a little while to recover from my pre-birthday coastal trips, but it seems as if I'm back into my normal, steady life. I've come to realize in the past few weeks that I adore structure. I'm a girl who likes a plan. This probably isn't news to those of you who know me, but to me, it's like a mind-shattering epiphany.I shook up my schedule this morning as I ventured out to aJMnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5805080.post-47030365913725900392007-04-05T14:55:00.000-04:002007-04-05T14:58:20.492-04:00The Bell Curve.“Um. Romance?”Of course romance was my choice, but choosing to learn my romantic future… was that what every woman would pick? I didn’t want to be like every girl who wandered into the shop, with its crystals and massage books and yoga mats, looking to the tarot card reader with cares of a superficial kind. But my job was secure, and nothing else seemed to be changing at that time,JMnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5805080.post-65370997521431912372007-03-31T12:23:00.000-04:002007-03-31T12:48:39.057-04:00Animals and Things.The first words I heard this morning were from Bones to his wife, "I'm going to google to get orange juice." Google provides free orange juice - and just about everything else - to its employees. I'll write an extensive post about this later. But right now, I'm just waiting for Bones to return with the orange juice.So. I survived (and loved) horseback riding on the beach. My JMnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5805080.post-63409446478516678132007-03-30T11:38:00.000-04:002007-03-30T11:53:56.867-04:00San Francisco.The beautiful skyline.Liz and I "lunching" on Fillmore Street. I had a (disappointing) antipasto salad and Liz had a slice of cheese pizza. For those who are keeping track of what I'm eating. (Maya.)There's always something to see when you look up in this city.Obama. Don't really know what's behind this, but, well, it's interesting.So. I'm going horseback riding this morning. On a JMnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5805080.post-62025770216554068952007-03-27T11:18:00.000-04:002007-03-27T11:50:26.746-04:00Blame Cleveland.I think that I understand now why, during campaigns, politicians would rather kiss babies and visit ice cream stands than take direct stands on things. There were some interesting comments and questions from the last post. I have readers with strong opinions, deep character. I do thank God that we're not all the same. How boring would life be. Nonetheless, like a true politician, JMnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5805080.post-39854141831007517622007-03-22T10:44:00.000-04:002007-03-22T11:06:50.080-04:00Mish Mash.I fell alseep last night, writing new blog posts in my head. Well. I kind of fell asleep. The Paxil withdrawal interrupts good sleep. This may make me groggy for weeks, but it's something I'm willing to go through, to feel like myself again.Think long and hard, my friends, before a doctor who has only known you six minutes hands you a prescription for mool-altering drugs.So. I do want JMnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5805080.post-90517424618931030722007-03-20T15:24:00.000-04:002007-03-20T15:54:18.982-04:00Another God Post.I can imagine your thoughts, your inward groans: What happened to your crazy entries of days past? When did our beloved, decadent Jill become a teetotaler, stammering on about things divine? So dismal, so melancholy, so dull, you've become. Don't bore us with your diatribes of morality, Heaven and Hell. That's what our grandmothers and the President are for.My response to our JMnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5805080.post-49169717648614619382007-03-19T12:59:00.000-04:002007-03-19T13:43:19.282-04:00Single, Again.So. It's been a month. If you're a close friend, and I didn't tell you, I'm sorry. I probably didn't want to burst into tears again.(My new Bible-joke - because I always have a Bible-joke - is that my new spiritual gift is weeping in public. Yesterday I was in a car with a friend, when our mutual friend, Sara, called him."Tell her that I stopped crying," I asked him.Her response? "JMnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5805080.post-45465895585038288252007-03-14T11:39:00.000-04:002007-03-14T11:52:47.188-04:00Spring DetoxI'm getting off the Paxil. I think it was a mistake. Screwing with my head. The only way I'm going to attain balance in my life, in my mind, in my body is through discipline in my thought life. Bot through sending my brain through a roller coaster. I started taking it because I had heart palpitations. I had heart palpitations because I was overworked (with two stressful jobs) and had JMnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5805080.post-5845514528513424172007-03-06T10:40:00.000-05:002007-03-06T11:15:46.697-05:00Giftings.Everyone has a natural strength that can be used to love other people. My friend Joanne is able to comfort. I would come to her on a consistent basis, weeping through the difficulties of one of the most trying romantic relationships of my life. And each time, her soothing voice would envelop me; she'd hug me, even over the phone, giving me comfort and perspective.Other people are great JMnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5805080.post-634948592972899152007-03-05T11:33:00.000-05:002007-03-05T11:50:17.574-05:00Dust.I don't want Spring to come. It's a new phenomenon, and everyone around me will despise me if we get another snow. But I want it to stay winter, the season for yarn and coffee and curling up in bed with a book. I've been praying for God to stop time. To keep it Winter. Forever.It's an impossible prayer, I know. But He's been known to do impossible things.Someone referred to me as a "strong JMnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5805080.post-41852257538211596542007-02-28T14:35:00.000-05:002007-02-28T14:51:46.067-05:00Self Portrait.I should have taken this in the bathroom at a mirror or something. Today I had to attend a luncheon for Women's Club. That meant a few things. No jeans. Good posture. Wear makeup. And keep my mouth shut. That's what I do at professional functions. I have to. Most things that flow from my mouth are inappropriate or just plain weird. It's easier just to sit, chew on bread and listen JMnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5805080.post-6893775519098956352007-02-26T19:13:00.000-05:002007-02-26T19:14:21.761-05:00Matter of Perception.I had a mandatory sculpture class during my freshman year of college. This class stuck out to me for multiple reasons. For one, we were allowed to bring music into the art studio. A curly-haired boy who smelled like turpentine brought in a Tom Waits album, and it was during that class, where I clumsily glued together balsa wood, that my virgin ears first heard, “The Piano HasJMnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5805080.post-55260171208058890332007-02-22T11:22:00.000-05:002007-02-22T11:37:22.987-05:00Puppy.My desire to have a puppy increased four-fold last night, when Melanie and Wes brought over this visitor, temporarily named, "Bacon." She's a pure bred bull dog that they're temporarily watching until the new owner arrives from the East Coast to pick her up. Apparently pure bred bull dog puppies go for $2500 these days. But we got to play with Bacon for free, which was nice.My new friend JMnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5805080.post-1170449125443814612007-02-02T15:31:00.000-05:002007-02-02T15:45:25.460-05:00Random.I have to admit something. I find it completely disturbing, and I don't quite know how it happened, but an entire Fergie album has made its way into my iTunes. Before you get your panties in a bunch, please know that I did not purchase said album. But I have listened to it a considerable (more than five) number of times. While her lyrics are sophomoric, her tunes are, well, catchy. I, for JMnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5805080.post-1170284038736470382007-01-31T17:44:00.000-05:002007-01-31T17:53:58.750-05:00True.I'm aggressive. Not in the "cut you off in traffic, then steal your boyfriend" sense, but in a sort of "see a problem and fix it - ask no questions, do it now, apologize later" sense. It's gotten me in trouble throughout the years, but it's also gotten me respect in my job and the ability to brag about getting things done. I'm definitely not lazy. Even my leisure time is busy, whether I'm JMnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5805080.post-1169666067746540202007-01-24T14:06:00.000-05:002007-01-24T14:14:27.760-05:00Pieces and Parts.I did a photo scavenger hunt with the high school kids last weekend. The hardest image to find? A photograph with one of the participants and a little person eating a lollipop. (I didn't make up the list.) This is as close as anyone got, with the help of my dad's big screen television and a digitally remastered copy of The Wizard of Oz.So. I don't know who won, because I had to JMnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5805080.post-1169066979704995342007-01-17T15:39:00.000-05:002007-01-17T15:49:39.716-05:00Midnight Texts."Come visit. I need you to teach me how to purl." This was the text that I got from Miss Mollie in San Francisco last night. There are hundreds of reasons to visit California, but I have to agree with Mollie that teaching knitting skills is probably on the higher end of the travel agenda. A trip will most definitely happen soon, and although I'm dying to go back to Maine, or OregonJMnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5805080.post-1168376346806036992007-01-09T15:50:00.000-05:002007-01-09T15:59:06.820-05:00Losers.So Columbus, Ohio is walking around in a daze today. As if someone died. Because we lost a football game. A plague of depression caused by sweaty guys and a pigskin. I just wanted to see the band.I've had several - two - dreams about alligators in the last week. In the first one, while I was walking around in Oregon, a gator and a wolverine both jumped out of a ditch and tried to eat me. IJMnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5805080.post-1168228573049022412007-01-07T22:41:00.000-05:002007-01-07T22:56:13.063-05:00Week One.So, one year into 2007, and I thought that I'd let you know how the resolutions are going. While I haven't attained salt and pepper shakers, I did think about buying a pair of wooden shakers from the thrift store. I decided against it because I didn't want to complete my resolution the first week of the year and then find myself bored the rest of the time. As far as cooking beef goes, I JMnoreply@blogger.com