Scene: Saturday morning. Mom's bedroom. Its overcast outside. Everyone in the house is up and starting their days. Mom and Dad have made plans to run errands and wanted to leave by 9. Its 10 AM and mom is still in still curled up in bed.
Dad: (softly and cautiously) Honey... wakey wakey...
Mom: (in full voice without a hint of grogginess) WHY??!! I want to listen to the rain.
It wasn't raining.
It still isnt.
I love my mother.
Showing posts with label Family. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Family. Show all posts
Saturday, December 13, 2008
Thursday, December 11, 2008
The Real Ms. Stacy
There are a lot of things I need to remember more. One being that despite being of the Land of Bonkers, that my mother is magical and two, that I am very lucky to have her.
We have this adorable family that comes and takes care of our yard. The father and mother and kids all show up every week and roar their horrid leaf blowers to life and prune and pluck and all that jazz. One of the members of this family is this sweet 13 year old girl. None of them really speak English too well but you can tell from just meeting them that they’re good honest souls. They even bring their little dog to help work. It’s serious ohana on Saturdays at our place.
Mom has a little garden that she loves a lot. It’s this random hodge-podge of potted this and thats put around the outside of the house in about the same order that they would go in her brain, which is in circular order from the door on out of which one is prettiest and makes her the happiest. That day. A garden in a distinctly sectioned off patch of earth with rows of things??! Please – that is for the common folk… And we all know that that is not my mother.
So, though mom loves piddling in her garden getting to it and getting everything watered regularly is a bit of a challenge, she’s befriended this little girl (they’re about the same age I think) and she helps her with her garden. Well amongst a Saturday chat it came out that this girl likes to read (she goes to school and speaks good English, it’s just the parents that don’t) and mom started chirping about Twilight and the girl said that she’d love to read it but her family has no extra money for books and she has no time to get to the library because she works when she’s not in school.
So mom went directly into the house and got the book, handed it to this adorable 13 year old girl and she almost started crying and gave my mom a tearful and silent hug. Mom said she could bring it back whenever she was finished and the girl was so excited she didn’t let it go the rest of the time she was there. The whole family sleeps in the same room so she had to stay up at night reading in the bathroom so the light wouldn’t wake everybody else and she finished it in days with nothing but smiles. She brought it back and mom gave her New Moon but couldn’t find her copy of Eclipse so she snuck into my room and gave her my copy.
So when I came home from AZ on Sunday night mom had that busted kid look on her face and I knew exactly what it meant. She only gets that way about stuff that she’s messed with that I truly care about which is usually my books. She has a bad habit of not asking about stuff and an even worse habit of being super hard on books. So I said “Which book did you borrow mom?” and she explained the story to me and swore on Odin’s eye patch that if anything happened to it she’d replace it and throw in some chocolate as well but the last thing on my mind was the safety and structural integrity of my book. I was floored and humbled.
Humbled that I don’t have to stay up late sitting on a cold bathroom floor to be able to read, humbled that I have a mother who is so capable of touching and giving the magic of books to the exact person who needs it the most, humbled that that magic lady down the street that dresses funny but changes your world is my mother. Like this little girl will never forget my mom because of her kindness and because of her ability to see people as people, that she was an honest friend, that she was concerned about this little girl’s mind and heart insomuch that she gave her a book to read, a book that she’ll love.
I complain more than I should about my insane mother, but she is some of the best kind of people that does the best kind of things and I consider myself truly blessed to have her and for the mental and emotional freedoms she’s given me by reading to me and handing me a book. By seeing my mind and my heart and knowing how to affect both. Mom truly understands Christmas. She truly understands a lot of things.
I need to get a set of Twilight for that sweet girl for Christmas. And a reading light, or a pillow. Or both. Who’s with me?
We have this adorable family that comes and takes care of our yard. The father and mother and kids all show up every week and roar their horrid leaf blowers to life and prune and pluck and all that jazz. One of the members of this family is this sweet 13 year old girl. None of them really speak English too well but you can tell from just meeting them that they’re good honest souls. They even bring their little dog to help work. It’s serious ohana on Saturdays at our place.
Mom has a little garden that she loves a lot. It’s this random hodge-podge of potted this and thats put around the outside of the house in about the same order that they would go in her brain, which is in circular order from the door on out of which one is prettiest and makes her the happiest. That day. A garden in a distinctly sectioned off patch of earth with rows of things??! Please – that is for the common folk… And we all know that that is not my mother.
So, though mom loves piddling in her garden getting to it and getting everything watered regularly is a bit of a challenge, she’s befriended this little girl (they’re about the same age I think) and she helps her with her garden. Well amongst a Saturday chat it came out that this girl likes to read (she goes to school and speaks good English, it’s just the parents that don’t) and mom started chirping about Twilight and the girl said that she’d love to read it but her family has no extra money for books and she has no time to get to the library because she works when she’s not in school.
So mom went directly into the house and got the book, handed it to this adorable 13 year old girl and she almost started crying and gave my mom a tearful and silent hug. Mom said she could bring it back whenever she was finished and the girl was so excited she didn’t let it go the rest of the time she was there. The whole family sleeps in the same room so she had to stay up at night reading in the bathroom so the light wouldn’t wake everybody else and she finished it in days with nothing but smiles. She brought it back and mom gave her New Moon but couldn’t find her copy of Eclipse so she snuck into my room and gave her my copy.
So when I came home from AZ on Sunday night mom had that busted kid look on her face and I knew exactly what it meant. She only gets that way about stuff that she’s messed with that I truly care about which is usually my books. She has a bad habit of not asking about stuff and an even worse habit of being super hard on books. So I said “Which book did you borrow mom?” and she explained the story to me and swore on Odin’s eye patch that if anything happened to it she’d replace it and throw in some chocolate as well but the last thing on my mind was the safety and structural integrity of my book. I was floored and humbled.
Humbled that I don’t have to stay up late sitting on a cold bathroom floor to be able to read, humbled that I have a mother who is so capable of touching and giving the magic of books to the exact person who needs it the most, humbled that that magic lady down the street that dresses funny but changes your world is my mother. Like this little girl will never forget my mom because of her kindness and because of her ability to see people as people, that she was an honest friend, that she was concerned about this little girl’s mind and heart insomuch that she gave her a book to read, a book that she’ll love.
I complain more than I should about my insane mother, but she is some of the best kind of people that does the best kind of things and I consider myself truly blessed to have her and for the mental and emotional freedoms she’s given me by reading to me and handing me a book. By seeing my mind and my heart and knowing how to affect both. Mom truly understands Christmas. She truly understands a lot of things.
I need to get a set of Twilight for that sweet girl for Christmas. And a reading light, or a pillow. Or both. Who’s with me?
Thursday, October 9, 2008
It Is TIme
There comes a time in the life of every red blooded American girl where she just needs to stand up and say something.
Fortunately, I do so quite often and not always necessarily about particularly weighty things.
However, right now, I am going to attempt to be serious.
I want to believe that I can change the world. I want to believe that I can help somebody and stand for something and make a difference. I want to think that I matter, that what I think matters; that I might be able to share and defend the things in my life that have brought me happiness. That I can stand in good company with my parents and ancestors who got to fight for what they wanted and what they believed. I don’t want to die without any scars.
As the American girl, daughter of a hippy and a lawyer that I am, I feel that flexing my influence as voter and conscientious citizen lets me do that, to a degree at least.
We’re in a pivotal election year. If you don’t know that you’ve been meditating under a rock somewhere in Katmandu for the last 18 months and should probably go back. It’s nothing but a stress joint over here and its lovely there.
There are A LOT of things to weigh, study, consider, and carefully make decisions about in this upcoming election.
There is a whole novel I could write and tell about the Presidential side of things but what I want to speak to now is something on California’s State ballot that I feel strongly about.
Prop 8 is getting a lot of attention and for good reason. It’s addressing a pivotal issue by asking us to define a social head space about Marriage and Family.
Its 14 words long;
“Only marriage between a man and a woman is valid or recognized in California.”
I think that there are two legs to this issue that are imperative.
One is the legal precedence that is at stake.
In 2000 this exact set of wording was ratified and put into the constitution with a 61% majority.
Earlier this year 4 of the 7 California Supreme Court judges decided that they didn’t agree and that the 61% of California voters who said yes didn’t know what they were talking about and overturned it.
The last time I cracked an econ book, the courts’ responsibility was to interpret the law, not write it. Writing law lies with voters and their elected representatives in the State Senate. I don’t think that it’s OK for non-elected officials to think that they can speak on an issue voters have already spoken on, especially as recently as this one. It sets a gross precedent and one I’m not comfortable with. That’s too much unchecked power. There are only two states in the US right now who allow same sex marriages and that is CA and MA and both of those laws have come about because of the courts, not the voters.
Food for thought….
Secondly is the moral issue that’s in question.
Making the legal definition of marriage to be only between a man and a woman the charged and intense issue of Gay Marriage comes out of this almost instantly. It gets even hairier because what’s really going on is its asking people to reflect and make a call on how they feel about homosexuality in general. We are blessed with a significant homosexual population here in California and even now, despite our familiarity with it, there is still a lot of fear and hatred on the matter. There are still a lot of thinly disguised bigots out there that have jumped on this, some even in my own ranks, and scream their support for Prop 8 off of that box.
I don’t support that. It pains me to think that this issue is being so misunderstood and people are just using it to air out and justify their own prejudices. I can’t even begin to apologize for such ridiculous displays. That’s not how the election process is supposed to work.
I have close friends that are gay and I love them very much, so much so that I want them to be happy. It's all but an emotional mine field believing so strongly one way and loving so many people that choose to live their lives differently, but I will try to explain myself as respectfully as I can.
Like I said before, homosexuality is something we all live with. It isn’t the monster that a lot of the Christian world has cast it to be.
I am a member of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. I am a passionate Christian. I’ve served an 18 month full time mission for my faith, regularly attend my meetings, do daily study from our written scriptures and teachings, attend the temple and honor the covenants I have made with God in those places. My ballot is sculpted by that belief system because I try to live my life according to what I know to be right and wrong not popular and unpopular.
I know that God loves his all children and I do my best to too. For me, this is all about love and always has been. That has never changed.
I know that God wants his children to be happy, and I know that He has designed a plan for us to be so and the centerpiece of that plan is Families.
Marriage and families are sacred to me. I rank it up there with prayer, revelation, scripture, and love. I don’t like it being treated like a political football but that is exactly what I see happening.
There isn’t a single civil right that same sex partnerships would win or lose with this proposition. What is in question and what is important to me is how we are collectively declaring our DEFINITION of Marriage.
Marriage is between a man and a woman. It always has been, and it always will be. It’s a divine design and no court or ballot will change that. So in an effort to live what I know to be true, I would want my civil constitution to reflect those truths as closely as possible.
It may seem like a trivial thing, but what we all decide in a few weeks will lay a groundwork for serious swings in public opinion, public education, parents rights, and start a nasty ball rolling towards any institution that only sustains marriage between a man a woman.
If it doesn’t pass and California’s anti-discrimination laws are abused, there could be a tyrannical proverbial kicking in the door of these places in the name of Tolerance. Tolerance seems to have taken on the horrible tendency to only go one way. “Tolerant” people seem to excuse themselves of being tolerant of supposed “Intolerant” people. It’s a nasty culture of hypocrisy, and again, I don’t think happiness lies anywhere where there is any kind of bigotry; whether it’s going right to left or left to right.
We’re all in this together and I think it’s imperative to examine WHAT is right not WHO is right. We will all be raising our families here eventually. We have to figure out how to live together and to do it well and with love. We drive on the same roads, shop at the same stores, laugh at the same movies, appreciate the same sunsets and pray that our kids will love California as much as we do.
I support Prop 8 because I choose Families with Mothers and Fathers that are married because they’re doing their best to live as closely to God and his plan as they can and I think it’s important for that definition of Marriage and Family to endure. Popular or unpopular as it may seem right now, it doesn’t change the fact that it’s true and will continue to be.
I love you and wouldn’t speak so plainly if I didn’t.
Examine your conscience, register to vote and I’ll see you on Nov 4th.
Fortunately, I do so quite often and not always necessarily about particularly weighty things.
However, right now, I am going to attempt to be serious.
I want to believe that I can change the world. I want to believe that I can help somebody and stand for something and make a difference. I want to think that I matter, that what I think matters; that I might be able to share and defend the things in my life that have brought me happiness. That I can stand in good company with my parents and ancestors who got to fight for what they wanted and what they believed. I don’t want to die without any scars.
As the American girl, daughter of a hippy and a lawyer that I am, I feel that flexing my influence as voter and conscientious citizen lets me do that, to a degree at least.
We’re in a pivotal election year. If you don’t know that you’ve been meditating under a rock somewhere in Katmandu for the last 18 months and should probably go back. It’s nothing but a stress joint over here and its lovely there.
There are A LOT of things to weigh, study, consider, and carefully make decisions about in this upcoming election.
There is a whole novel I could write and tell about the Presidential side of things but what I want to speak to now is something on California’s State ballot that I feel strongly about.
Prop 8 is getting a lot of attention and for good reason. It’s addressing a pivotal issue by asking us to define a social head space about Marriage and Family.
Its 14 words long;
“Only marriage between a man and a woman is valid or recognized in California.”
I think that there are two legs to this issue that are imperative.
One is the legal precedence that is at stake.
In 2000 this exact set of wording was ratified and put into the constitution with a 61% majority.
Earlier this year 4 of the 7 California Supreme Court judges decided that they didn’t agree and that the 61% of California voters who said yes didn’t know what they were talking about and overturned it.
The last time I cracked an econ book, the courts’ responsibility was to interpret the law, not write it. Writing law lies with voters and their elected representatives in the State Senate. I don’t think that it’s OK for non-elected officials to think that they can speak on an issue voters have already spoken on, especially as recently as this one. It sets a gross precedent and one I’m not comfortable with. That’s too much unchecked power. There are only two states in the US right now who allow same sex marriages and that is CA and MA and both of those laws have come about because of the courts, not the voters.
Food for thought….
Secondly is the moral issue that’s in question.
Making the legal definition of marriage to be only between a man and a woman the charged and intense issue of Gay Marriage comes out of this almost instantly. It gets even hairier because what’s really going on is its asking people to reflect and make a call on how they feel about homosexuality in general. We are blessed with a significant homosexual population here in California and even now, despite our familiarity with it, there is still a lot of fear and hatred on the matter. There are still a lot of thinly disguised bigots out there that have jumped on this, some even in my own ranks, and scream their support for Prop 8 off of that box.
I don’t support that. It pains me to think that this issue is being so misunderstood and people are just using it to air out and justify their own prejudices. I can’t even begin to apologize for such ridiculous displays. That’s not how the election process is supposed to work.
I have close friends that are gay and I love them very much, so much so that I want them to be happy. It's all but an emotional mine field believing so strongly one way and loving so many people that choose to live their lives differently, but I will try to explain myself as respectfully as I can.
Like I said before, homosexuality is something we all live with. It isn’t the monster that a lot of the Christian world has cast it to be.
I am a member of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. I am a passionate Christian. I’ve served an 18 month full time mission for my faith, regularly attend my meetings, do daily study from our written scriptures and teachings, attend the temple and honor the covenants I have made with God in those places. My ballot is sculpted by that belief system because I try to live my life according to what I know to be right and wrong not popular and unpopular.
I know that God loves his all children and I do my best to too. For me, this is all about love and always has been. That has never changed.
I know that God wants his children to be happy, and I know that He has designed a plan for us to be so and the centerpiece of that plan is Families.
Marriage and families are sacred to me. I rank it up there with prayer, revelation, scripture, and love. I don’t like it being treated like a political football but that is exactly what I see happening.
There isn’t a single civil right that same sex partnerships would win or lose with this proposition. What is in question and what is important to me is how we are collectively declaring our DEFINITION of Marriage.
Marriage is between a man and a woman. It always has been, and it always will be. It’s a divine design and no court or ballot will change that. So in an effort to live what I know to be true, I would want my civil constitution to reflect those truths as closely as possible.
It may seem like a trivial thing, but what we all decide in a few weeks will lay a groundwork for serious swings in public opinion, public education, parents rights, and start a nasty ball rolling towards any institution that only sustains marriage between a man a woman.
If it doesn’t pass and California’s anti-discrimination laws are abused, there could be a tyrannical proverbial kicking in the door of these places in the name of Tolerance. Tolerance seems to have taken on the horrible tendency to only go one way. “Tolerant” people seem to excuse themselves of being tolerant of supposed “Intolerant” people. It’s a nasty culture of hypocrisy, and again, I don’t think happiness lies anywhere where there is any kind of bigotry; whether it’s going right to left or left to right.
We’re all in this together and I think it’s imperative to examine WHAT is right not WHO is right. We will all be raising our families here eventually. We have to figure out how to live together and to do it well and with love. We drive on the same roads, shop at the same stores, laugh at the same movies, appreciate the same sunsets and pray that our kids will love California as much as we do.
I support Prop 8 because I choose Families with Mothers and Fathers that are married because they’re doing their best to live as closely to God and his plan as they can and I think it’s important for that definition of Marriage and Family to endure. Popular or unpopular as it may seem right now, it doesn’t change the fact that it’s true and will continue to be.
I love you and wouldn’t speak so plainly if I didn’t.
Examine your conscience, register to vote and I’ll see you on Nov 4th.
Monday, September 22, 2008
Breathing Pretty
So I just got back from a glorious weekend in Palm Springs.These are my peeps. Aren't they gorgeous?
Well - Indian Wells to be be precise. Its a little bit past Palm Springs but just as cool.
Another dahhhh-ling friend of mine, Lauren (in the navy), had a birthday this week and when we were contemplating birthday celebrationess a few things were mentioned. She lives in Phoenix and has this international job type thing so she was in Hong Kong for my birthday but since we'd both be in the same hemisphere for hers, we decided to make a whoop-de-doo about it.
I suggested me coming out to Phoenix where she lives. My amazing cousin Rich (the shorter red head) and his equally amazing and lovable wife Janelle (bright blue shirt) are out there, I wouldn't mind going a'tall. But I got a vehement NO at that idea because, and I quote Lauren "I HATE Phoenix". She went to school in DC, I'd hate Phoenix too if I was coming from that.
So we decided to meet half way in Palm Springs, find a pool and a smoothie and a magazine and lounge as extravagantly as possible.
We were excited and the only thing that could perfect the idea would be the addition of Rich and Janelle and, of course, Patrick, if he wasn't jet setting himself.
We were determined to have a grand time, and let me tell ya - we did.
Laur scored us this amazing room at this Italian inspired resort called MiraMonte . It was just amazing with all theses sprawling gardens and fountains everywhere and I thought it was quite fitting because Lauren and I have a pact. If neither one of us isn't at least dating someone we think we can marry by the time she turns 30 (that's in 2 years) we're going to move to Italy and chase Italian men till it gets boring. Mom said we wouldn't have to do much chasing, and she's right. We're pretty dang gorgeous.
I was going to drive out Friday night after work and so I went home and finished packing, drove into Hollywood to get the Patrick-miester, we grabbed some veggie burgers at Astro Burger (which I HIGHLY recommend btw. Corner of Melrose and Gower) and headed out into the great brown open.
Patrick intended on working on the way out but Patrick is one of those few people in my life that I can just pour out whatever I'm thinking in my brain and not only does he get it, keep up, understand my ridiculous connections, but he appreciates it all so when I actually get time with him I just start ohmygoodnesssoIjustlistenedtothefinancialreport andthey'resayingitstheendofthefreemarketand theladyatChevronthoughtmynewglasseslookedlikeSarahPalin's andIinstantlylikedherlessandandandandandand-ing
So he didn't get much work done at all but we had fun.
We got through traffic and to Indian Wells by 10. That's kind of late but it didn't matter because the whole goal was to get there before Lauren, Rich and Janelle did and we DID! HA! But only by like a minute and 20 seconds. It was fantastic. We were both in the car circle at the same time and had this big reunion through car windows with Rich's foot still on the break and about 3 other carloads of people just watching and waiting. We were ecstatic to see each other. Lauren is basically getting adopted into our family. Shes bff with all of us and she loves us as much so it works out really well.
For those who read this blog but haven't heard me describe Rich or Janelle to you, lemme give you a snap shot -
Rich is what would happen if a Jedi Knight a Ninja Turtle, Robin Williams and the best kind of Missionary all ran at each other really fast. Essentially he's one of the funniest people on the planet but made completely out of love. I seriously don't know why he isn't fantastically famous. He's just a brilliant and physically expressive guy. A purple belt in ninjitzu and a lot of energy usually leads there. He's awesome. Most of my memories growing up with him are wrestling matches or playing Cloverball. Clover was the name of their very stupid dog. It's a very regular thing to be in an intense spiritual conversation with him and he'll just take a step back, never breaking eye contact or missing a syllable, do some crazy karate combination and just come back like nothing happened. That's Rich in a paragraph.
His wife Janelle is just as much made of love but the quiet kind. She's what would happen if April from the Ninja Turtles, R2D2, Jean Grey, and Marjory Hinkley all ran at each other really fast. I love her. Lovelovelovelove her. I'm SOOO glad Rich brought her into the circle. I met her for the first time in front of the temple on their wedding day and had absolutely no qualms about it or her. This is how buff she is; on her way down to the temple in Mesa from Tucson the night before she got into a horrific car accident, Like, she flipped her car. A couple of times. Broke every window. Everything flew. Wedding dress, shoes, temple recommend. She got whisked off to the ER but was fine, everything got recovered and she was at the temple, on time and ready for pictures the next day.
That's my family *puff* :D
So the first thing that happened once we got to the room was Rich dove in, found some of the bathrobes and took in the luggage like so.
Rich brought Rockband and we played till about 3am.
The next morning we were properly introduced to the resort and I realized that it wasn't just plesant and comfortable, it was gorgeous. We all drove in at night so we didn't see the amazing scenery. When Lauren and I were at the pool I just couldn't stop starring.
We went and had lunch at this fantastic place called Pierro's Acqua Pazza at this grouping of shops and restaurants called The River. It was huge and essentially surrounded by this gorgeous moat. That's where the first picture was from. A river. Well, "river". In the middle of the desert. With fantastic curry chicken. And your favorite people. Can life get better?After that we went outlet shopping and had dinner at this euphoric wood fired pizza/tapas place at El Paseo called Sammy's Woodfired Pizza. I highly recommend that too.
When we were getting ready to go Rich was showing us his version of this new Xbox 360 game Castle Crashers.
Yup. That is a 30 second representation of the entire weekend.
I can't tell you how refreshed and relaxed I am and how much of a love of pool side dining I've developed and how riveting The Economist is and how grateful I am for my family and the fact that they're my best friends too.
It's just what I needed and I'll definitely be back.
Wednesday, June 18, 2008
Arcs
So random questions and text and messages from the brother or cousin types aren't a rarity at all.
"What Looney Toons episode was Bugs Bunny a chick? And was it Wayne or Garth that thought he was hot?"
"jumping trashcans should be an Olympic sport"
"Who would win in a fist fight, Nietzsche or Wittgenstein?"
(My money is totally on Nietzsche btw)
So when I got a "Whats your address?" from Patrick it seemed far too much of a normal question. He was either going to drop by that night or I was going to get a puppy in the mail or something.
"Why....." I replied. He laughed at me and then told me he had just finished his CD and wanted to send me a copy.
his CD?.... Erm - I wasn't aware that Pat had a recording contract and if he did I'd be amazed because though the man can move mountains and is worthy of almost every praise possible, he can't carry a tune in a bucket. Perhaps he was exploring beat poetry so I asked -
"What?!"
Apparently he and a few other music connoisseur friend types were engaged in a bit of a competition. It started as a music exchange but then Patrick wanted to "make it interesting" so he made up a theme and they were supposed to make a CD according to that theme. They all send them to each other (the other two are out of state). Patrick had a whole point structure outlined and they all rated each other's stuff and Patrick crowned a winner. I'm not sure what the prize was, bragging rights I suppose, but I thought
What a delightfully constructive creative thing.
And though I laughed at the competitive aspect of it all, I found it fascinating. Mixes with a story, an arc. How delicious. So even though I wasn't part of the contest I still found myself constructing a story in my head with my days worth of iTunes.
The theme Patrick nominated was a "Love to Meltdown" breakup-type mix and heaven knows a silly girl like me has plenty of love songs and break up songs. Its all of my favorite artist's specialty as a matter of fact.
I thought about it for a week or two and got to work, just for fun, and agonized over where a certain song fit in the story arc or what song best tells that part of the story. It was loads of fun. No wonder Patrick was so lit about it.
I decided to do some field research and some of my readers (read: friends) may have gotten a random text asking for their favorite love song and break up song. It was for this. Silly, I know. But like I said before, we Long/Dees types specialize in Charming Random. It's how we roll. :D And I want you to know that I listened to every song that was suggested to me as creative input even if it didn't fit on the arc I'd thought up.
So for those who contributed I figured I owed you a playlist. I found all but one song on iMeem and it's #1 in the line up. So if you're feeling saucy and want the whole experience there it is. I think its one of the strongest songs in the first half of the (meaning my) CD. I was really bummed it wasn't there. Don't people know this is one of the best songs on that album? Gosh!
So if you were wondering:
I'm also incredibly curious to see if I actually told a story. Like, can you see a relationship in between the treble clefs and why they broke up and why it wasn't just a break up but a meltdown?
"What Looney Toons episode was Bugs Bunny a chick? And was it Wayne or Garth that thought he was hot?"
"jumping trashcans should be an Olympic sport"
"Who would win in a fist fight, Nietzsche or Wittgenstein?"
(My money is totally on Nietzsche btw)
So when I got a "Whats your address?" from Patrick it seemed far too much of a normal question. He was either going to drop by that night or I was going to get a puppy in the mail or something.
"Why....." I replied. He laughed at me and then told me he had just finished his CD and wanted to send me a copy.
his CD?.... Erm - I wasn't aware that Pat had a recording contract and if he did I'd be amazed because though the man can move mountains and is worthy of almost every praise possible, he can't carry a tune in a bucket. Perhaps he was exploring beat poetry so I asked -
"What?!"
Apparently he and a few other music connoisseur friend types were engaged in a bit of a competition. It started as a music exchange but then Patrick wanted to "make it interesting" so he made up a theme and they were supposed to make a CD according to that theme. They all send them to each other (the other two are out of state). Patrick had a whole point structure outlined and they all rated each other's stuff and Patrick crowned a winner. I'm not sure what the prize was, bragging rights I suppose, but I thought
What a delightfully constructive creative thing.
And though I laughed at the competitive aspect of it all, I found it fascinating. Mixes with a story, an arc. How delicious. So even though I wasn't part of the contest I still found myself constructing a story in my head with my days worth of iTunes.
The theme Patrick nominated was a "Love to Meltdown" breakup-type mix and heaven knows a silly girl like me has plenty of love songs and break up songs. Its all of my favorite artist's specialty as a matter of fact.
I thought about it for a week or two and got to work, just for fun, and agonized over where a certain song fit in the story arc or what song best tells that part of the story. It was loads of fun. No wonder Patrick was so lit about it.
I decided to do some field research and some of my readers (read: friends) may have gotten a random text asking for their favorite love song and break up song. It was for this. Silly, I know. But like I said before, we Long/Dees types specialize in Charming Random. It's how we roll. :D And I want you to know that I listened to every song that was suggested to me as creative input even if it didn't fit on the arc I'd thought up.
So for those who contributed I figured I owed you a playlist. I found all but one song on iMeem and it's #1 in the line up. So if you're feeling saucy and want the whole experience there it is. I think its one of the strongest songs in the first half of the (meaning my) CD. I was really bummed it wasn't there. Don't people know this is one of the best songs on that album? Gosh!
So if you were wondering:
I'm also incredibly curious to see if I actually told a story. Like, can you see a relationship in between the treble clefs and why they broke up and why it wasn't just a break up but a meltdown?
Monday, April 28, 2008
Faces and Places
Episode II
So I know I’m drastically behind. So much aside of DC has happened that is more than blog worthy but I have to finish my DC romp memoirs.
Saturday got started a bit late. The girl’s house that I was staying at was nestled in this lovely neighborhood with perfectly trimmed hedges and lawns and was peppered with breathtaking cherry trees in full bloom. Driving around their's and my cousin’s neighborhoods literally took my breath away. I had forgotten how beautiful that part of the world is. It’s just green green green with trees and trees and trees that are hundreds of years old. The earth is just different there. Everything just feels older and more dignified. Like California would be the cool 16 year old teenage sibling of a family and Virginia is the recent Yale graduate Prada wearing older sister. It was beautiful to the point of distraction. When we were in the car I would trail off mid sentence.
“So I was thinking that it would be fun to … is that a…. wow……………………”
What was more amazing to me than the trees was the fact that I didn’t remember them. I didn't have any shining memories of the trees or them being that beautiful. I was simultaneously amazed at the sight of them but chagrined because I’d forgotten such beauty. I harped about it for a stint and I started thinking “If I can’t even remember these trees what else did I forget?” I thought about it for quite a spell and then I realized something. Chris lives in a very suburby, Anglo, upper middle class part of Arlington. I spent 99% of my time in the densely populated downtown areas of Arlington and our drives to get to them were just as urban. There simply weren’t many trees to remember so it was like getting to know a place you’ve always known all over again.
But back to the Lady-hut… the ladies that I was staying with had an over abundance of foliage in their front yard and had organized home teacher types to come over early and do the yard work thing so all hopes of sleeping in were pretty much non-existent and in the long run I think that was a good thing. Who wants to waste time sleeping when there is so much fun to be had and trees to see and fall in love with?
So I went to this fantastic pancake house place with Christian for breakfast. It’s called the Original Pancake House and for good reason. They were scrumptious pancakes that tasted like they were made by genius Puritan women. My whole time there I was continually amazed that I lived in Arlington for 6 months and it was my business to know the city and where people were and why but little things like trees and breakfast places had totally escaped me. Chris and I talked about lenses and how differently they let us see a place. Here we were, two people, in the same car, going to the same place, from the same DNA pool even, that were simultaneously in two totally different places because of the lens that we were looking through.
After a nap and some lunch, in preparation for the "Olney Decade Dance Party" the boys had slated for that night, all the roommates, Chris, the HLP and I invaded the local Goodwill looking for costume ideas. And let me tell ya, shopping with one guy is fun, thrift store shopping with him is even more fun. Now, multiply that x5 and life is downright hilarious.
All the guys got their stuff and Chris and I ventured into this one Vietnamese strip mall called the Eden Center. It was an old haunt of mine and Chris came with me through the curry scented, jade studded narrow halls of the place with the chatter of karaoke coming from the next hall over. I wanted to see if my pen store was still around but alas it wasn’t. I was very sad, but kind of relieved to see that things had changed, even a little. That progress had taken place. I dunno - its hard to explain.
It was really interesting to watch Christian take in the place. He said that he didn't know that it was there even though its 3 square blocks big and announced with 12' high Chinese dogs and a big red gate almost straight out of Mulan. It goes back to that lens thing. I’m not sure he’d seen anything like it before. Asian shopping centers can be strange to western types. You expect a shop next to a shop and what you see on the outside is what you have on the inside. Discovering the catacombs that the Eden Center is with all their cells of shops dotting the tendrilesque hallways can be another world. Worlds inside worlds as a matter of fact.
We left without encountering anyone from the Korean mafia (that we know of) and landed back at home not soon before we were due at a Gratitude Dinner the Bella Vista Ward was putting on for the Langley Singles. Bella Vista is the Spanish Ward in the McLean Stake and I served there for 6 months. They’re still bit lean on leadership so a lot of the singles help out in the primary etc and they were putting on this dinner as a Thank You. It was a perfect time to go see my old members. I was afraid that there wouldn’t be a soul there that was there when I was. DC has a tendency to be a fairly transient area but there were a few families still there from when I was there. Enough that it took me a good 45 minutes to finish my plate for constantly jumping up and saying “do you remember me?” It’s been 7 years since they would have seen me. One sister spotted me immediately and she was one of my favorites in that branch and it was all hugs and squeals for about 5 minutes. I was pretty much in heaven. The current bishop was in the Stake Presidency when I was there and he was amazing. I’ve never worked with more involved and fantastic leadership. They were constantly around but didn’t stifle or hover. I just felt completely and totally supported and cheered on. Every member of the Stake Presidency knew my name, the name of my investigators, the names of my retention and where each one was. I think that’s one of my favorite parts of serving in DC. The area has a tendency to attract superlatives of whatever given field they happen to be in and that excellence is totally translated into callings. It was wonderful to see him again, he remembered me and went around introducing me as his daughter. Oh how I love that sweet man! It really was like coming home in so many ways.
That night after the dinner was The Party. Christian and his roommates throw a Spring event every year and they decided to correlate my visit and the shindig and I will be eternally grateful. I’ve never been to a Mormon house party like this one. Like ever. They turned their entire basement into a dance hall complete with black lights, disco balls and glow sticks. The glowy things were everywhere actually. You know those glowing spaghetti things you buy at Disneyland at night that are cold and you can loop them around your wrists or put them together for necklaces or what not? Yeah – literally everywhere and it was awesome. The Mountain Dew flowed, the base boomed, the volleyball ensued and all was pure awesome in Arlington that night. The boys were hilarious. One dressed up like J.J. from Good Times, one
was an 80’s Michael Jackson, Chris was a homage to Kurt Cobain complete with flannel and ripped jeans, the HLP was Rick Astley, and the last one was someone from Balls of Fury or something like that. I couldn’t place him how much I tried.
I downed a few Dews and took a shot or two of the Redline Chris was good enough to get me in hopes I could get my energy up to party level but I was just tapped. That and I was almost completely lost in my head with all the mission revisits and people.
I can’t even begin to tell you how much I desperately love the people I served in DC. I did everything I could to be the best version of myself for them and for the Lord and coming back to it all and seeing them and still being the amazingly flawed person I am was difficult for me. The thought of facing them back at LAX almost landed me in tears more than once. I think that’s why I’ve put off a mission trip for so long. I wanted to be perfectly educated and perfectly married and perfectly healthy so I could come back all shiney and they could be proud of me. I feel the same way about my family, I know they love me and don’t expect perfection from me (or anyone for that matter) and if anyone is aware of how imperfect I am, it would be them. But because I think so highly of them and they all seem to be a lot closer to the mark than I am I find myself seeing those imperfections with much more clarity when I'm around them. So the more aware of how off I am the less inclined I tend to be about coming out. But I refuse to be held hostage by my fears and insecurities and often idealism is just a fancy name tag for insecurities so I decided to just go and be the best version of myself that I could muster, despite how fearful I am of being judged and in spite of the internal din of my own self-judgment. It was a lot to balance in the midst of this extravagant party with all the amazing and fun people that Christian knows. I hope I didn’t look like a distracted dope. That and jet laggy exhaustion didn’t help. Word to the wise: Do not ever take red eyes cross country and not give yourself a day to recuperate because it practically killed me.
I crashed, once again, far too late than I should have and was up earlier than I should have been, packed my bags, headed to church, dodged what part of the deluge that was the weather that day, and found myself back on a plane coming home to a place that felt a little bit less like home. I sat next to a very nice girl from PA who was going out to Hollywood to make a go of an acting career and a guy who was an engineer for MySpace. It was a fantastic ride home. All five and a half hours of it. They even played a Gerard Butler movie. I invited my new friend to church with me. Time was so tight that I went directly from church to a dinner to the airport still in my church clothes and there wasn’t time to change so I boarded the flight heals, skirt, pearls and all so she asked me where I was coming from and I said “church” and that spawned a whole conversation. It was awesome and very fitting coming home from my mission, again. It was all very sobering. I'm glad I had Gerry along for the ride.
I couldn’t help but imagine the floor of the plane being a running picture of all of the land and space that I was putting between me and the Potomac. I saw the Ozarks and the Mississippi, fields and fields of grain, The Rockies, the Grand Canyon all pass underneath me, putting me farther and farther from things I love but also getting me close to other things I love. I have a feeling that that flight is always going to be rough. Going from some place that feels like home to the place you call home will always be strange. It’s like you’re never going to stop saying goodbye to something you desperately love. Ever.
But thats what you sign up for when you do decide love something right? The reality that it can and probably will go away or you will have to go away but the hope that you or it can always come back .
And if there is one thing that cherry blossoms in the spring can whisper it's hope.
So I know I’m drastically behind. So much aside of DC has happened that is more than blog worthy but I have to finish my DC romp memoirs.
Saturday got started a bit late. The girl’s house that I was staying at was nestled in this lovely neighborhood with perfectly trimmed hedges and lawns and was peppered with breathtaking cherry trees in full bloom. Driving around their's and my cousin’s neighborhoods literally took my breath away. I had forgotten how beautiful that part of the world is. It’s just green green green with trees and trees and trees that are hundreds of years old. The earth is just different there. Everything just feels older and more dignified. Like California would be the cool 16 year old teenage sibling of a family and Virginia is the recent Yale graduate Prada wearing older sister. It was beautiful to the point of distraction. When we were in the car I would trail off mid sentence.
“So I was thinking that it would be fun to … is that a…. wow……………………”
What was more amazing to me than the trees was the fact that I didn’t remember them. I didn't have any shining memories of the trees or them being that beautiful. I was simultaneously amazed at the sight of them but chagrined because I’d forgotten such beauty. I harped about it for a stint and I started thinking “If I can’t even remember these trees what else did I forget?” I thought about it for quite a spell and then I realized something. Chris lives in a very suburby, Anglo, upper middle class part of Arlington. I spent 99% of my time in the densely populated downtown areas of Arlington and our drives to get to them were just as urban. There simply weren’t many trees to remember so it was like getting to know a place you’ve always known all over again.
But back to the Lady-hut… the ladies that I was staying with had an over abundance of foliage in their front yard and had organized home teacher types to come over early and do the yard work thing so all hopes of sleeping in were pretty much non-existent and in the long run I think that was a good thing. Who wants to waste time sleeping when there is so much fun to be had and trees to see and fall in love with?
So I went to this fantastic pancake house place with Christian for breakfast. It’s called the Original Pancake House and for good reason. They were scrumptious pancakes that tasted like they were made by genius Puritan women. My whole time there I was continually amazed that I lived in Arlington for 6 months and it was my business to know the city and where people were and why but little things like trees and breakfast places had totally escaped me. Chris and I talked about lenses and how differently they let us see a place. Here we were, two people, in the same car, going to the same place, from the same DNA pool even, that were simultaneously in two totally different places because of the lens that we were looking through.
After a nap and some lunch, in preparation for the "Olney Decade Dance Party" the boys had slated for that night, all the roommates, Chris, the HLP and I invaded the local Goodwill looking for costume ideas. And let me tell ya, shopping with one guy is fun, thrift store shopping with him is even more fun. Now, multiply that x5 and life is downright hilarious.
All the guys got their stuff and Chris and I ventured into this one Vietnamese strip mall called the Eden Center. It was an old haunt of mine and Chris came with me through the curry scented, jade studded narrow halls of the place with the chatter of karaoke coming from the next hall over. I wanted to see if my pen store was still around but alas it wasn’t. I was very sad, but kind of relieved to see that things had changed, even a little. That progress had taken place. I dunno - its hard to explain.
It was really interesting to watch Christian take in the place. He said that he didn't know that it was there even though its 3 square blocks big and announced with 12' high Chinese dogs and a big red gate almost straight out of Mulan. It goes back to that lens thing. I’m not sure he’d seen anything like it before. Asian shopping centers can be strange to western types. You expect a shop next to a shop and what you see on the outside is what you have on the inside. Discovering the catacombs that the Eden Center is with all their cells of shops dotting the tendrilesque hallways can be another world. Worlds inside worlds as a matter of fact.
We left without encountering anyone from the Korean mafia (that we know of) and landed back at home not soon before we were due at a Gratitude Dinner the Bella Vista Ward was putting on for the Langley Singles. Bella Vista is the Spanish Ward in the McLean Stake and I served there for 6 months. They’re still bit lean on leadership so a lot of the singles help out in the primary etc and they were putting on this dinner as a Thank You. It was a perfect time to go see my old members. I was afraid that there wouldn’t be a soul there that was there when I was. DC has a tendency to be a fairly transient area but there were a few families still there from when I was there. Enough that it took me a good 45 minutes to finish my plate for constantly jumping up and saying “do you remember me?” It’s been 7 years since they would have seen me. One sister spotted me immediately and she was one of my favorites in that branch and it was all hugs and squeals for about 5 minutes. I was pretty much in heaven. The current bishop was in the Stake Presidency when I was there and he was amazing. I’ve never worked with more involved and fantastic leadership. They were constantly around but didn’t stifle or hover. I just felt completely and totally supported and cheered on. Every member of the Stake Presidency knew my name, the name of my investigators, the names of my retention and where each one was. I think that’s one of my favorite parts of serving in DC. The area has a tendency to attract superlatives of whatever given field they happen to be in and that excellence is totally translated into callings. It was wonderful to see him again, he remembered me and went around introducing me as his daughter. Oh how I love that sweet man! It really was like coming home in so many ways.
That night after the dinner was The Party. Christian and his roommates throw a Spring event every year and they decided to correlate my visit and the shindig and I will be eternally grateful. I’ve never been to a Mormon house party like this one. Like ever. They turned their entire basement into a dance hall complete with black lights, disco balls and glow sticks. The glowy things were everywhere actually. You know those glowing spaghetti things you buy at Disneyland at night that are cold and you can loop them around your wrists or put them together for necklaces or what not? Yeah – literally everywhere and it was awesome. The Mountain Dew flowed, the base boomed, the volleyball ensued and all was pure awesome in Arlington that night. The boys were hilarious. One dressed up like J.J. from Good Times, one
was an 80’s Michael Jackson, Chris was a homage to Kurt Cobain complete with flannel and ripped jeans, the HLP was Rick Astley, and the last one was someone from Balls of Fury or something like that. I couldn’t place him how much I tried.I downed a few Dews and took a shot or two of the Redline Chris was good enough to get me in hopes I could get my energy up to party level but I was just tapped. That and I was almost completely lost in my head with all the mission revisits and people.
I can’t even begin to tell you how much I desperately love the people I served in DC. I did everything I could to be the best version of myself for them and for the Lord and coming back to it all and seeing them and still being the amazingly flawed person I am was difficult for me. The thought of facing them back at LAX almost landed me in tears more than once. I think that’s why I’ve put off a mission trip for so long. I wanted to be perfectly educated and perfectly married and perfectly healthy so I could come back all shiney and they could be proud of me. I feel the same way about my family, I know they love me and don’t expect perfection from me (or anyone for that matter) and if anyone is aware of how imperfect I am, it would be them. But because I think so highly of them and they all seem to be a lot closer to the mark than I am I find myself seeing those imperfections with much more clarity when I'm around them. So the more aware of how off I am the less inclined I tend to be about coming out. But I refuse to be held hostage by my fears and insecurities and often idealism is just a fancy name tag for insecurities so I decided to just go and be the best version of myself that I could muster, despite how fearful I am of being judged and in spite of the internal din of my own self-judgment. It was a lot to balance in the midst of this extravagant party with all the amazing and fun people that Christian knows. I hope I didn’t look like a distracted dope. That and jet laggy exhaustion didn’t help. Word to the wise: Do not ever take red eyes cross country and not give yourself a day to recuperate because it practically killed me.
I crashed, once again, far too late than I should have and was up earlier than I should have been, packed my bags, headed to church, dodged what part of the deluge that was the weather that day, and found myself back on a plane coming home to a place that felt a little bit less like home. I sat next to a very nice girl from PA who was going out to Hollywood to make a go of an acting career and a guy who was an engineer for MySpace. It was a fantastic ride home. All five and a half hours of it. They even played a Gerard Butler movie. I invited my new friend to church with me. Time was so tight that I went directly from church to a dinner to the airport still in my church clothes and there wasn’t time to change so I boarded the flight heals, skirt, pearls and all so she asked me where I was coming from and I said “church” and that spawned a whole conversation. It was awesome and very fitting coming home from my mission, again. It was all very sobering. I'm glad I had Gerry along for the ride.
I couldn’t help but imagine the floor of the plane being a running picture of all of the land and space that I was putting between me and the Potomac. I saw the Ozarks and the Mississippi, fields and fields of grain, The Rockies, the Grand Canyon all pass underneath me, putting me farther and farther from things I love but also getting me close to other things I love. I have a feeling that that flight is always going to be rough. Going from some place that feels like home to the place you call home will always be strange. It’s like you’re never going to stop saying goodbye to something you desperately love. Ever.
But thats what you sign up for when you do decide love something right? The reality that it can and probably will go away or you will have to go away but the hope that you or it can always come back .
And if there is one thing that cherry blossoms in the spring can whisper it's hope.
Thursday, April 24, 2008
Faces and Places
Episode I
"If you can wake up in a different time and in a different place can you also wake up a different person?"
Thats how Tyler Durden came to be but I'm afraid I don't have the gumption to pull off that wardrobe. Or the cheekbones for that matter.
I got back from Washington DC on Sunday night. It was the first time I've been back to my mission since I went home and the first time I've seen my cousin's set up out there. All I've been doing since is processing the strange and marvelous experience it is and was. I've tried to figure out a way to put all of into some kind of charming travelogue but all I find is myself recuperating from traveling 6000 miles within 72 hours and the consequential mental fog.
So I'll just dump down what I've got and probably go back and edit about 4 times, like I do with all of my blogs but be forewarned - this might be lengthy....
The week leading up to the trip was, to put it mildly, insane. I was asked to teach at this Stake Inservice meeting and to teach teachers how to teach. I was a bit deer-in-the-headlightsish about the matter because I'm essentially a kid still and have limited experience in many many matters, principally that I'm not a mother (the most basic kind of teacher). So I felt ill-qualified. Taking an instructive position with one older, more experienced person is a bit off-setting so the thought of instructing a room full of leaders left me all but petrified. So I did what any self respecting girl would do in the situation.
I put on my pearls and Oscar de la Renta shoes, slaved over a graphic filled powerpoint and prayed really hard. Wednesday night was when it went down and I was flying out Thursday night.
I didn't have a single chance to get away and buy the boots I've been needing, or the dress I've had my eye on, or to get my toes and/or nails done. Not a bloody thing. I was lucky to get laundry done and make the plane.
I was taking the red eye Thursday night, touching down in Charlotte, NC and then catching a connector to DC. The LAX to NC flight was oversold and I didn't have a definite seat assignment so I was a bit irked and afraid even if I DID make it on the plane that I would get some crappy center seat and not be able to sleep a wink and be a miserable bunch of yuck the whole next day. I didn't want to start my trip off in a twit so I said a few silent fervent prayers in those crusty black leather trademarked LAX seats and when they called my name and gave me my ticket it was window seat at the front of the plane. Miracle #1 (there are a good many on this trip so stay tuned) I got to sleep most of the flight but I kept having disturbing dreams of being trapped at airports, needing to pee and dealing with planes full of the creepy goblins from the Spiderwick Chronicles (NOT a children's move btw) that were trying to take over the airport. Just weird crap. But the funniest part of the flight was before we were even on our way to the runway the woman behind me started snoring like it was an Olympic sport. I mean, everyone on the plane was ready for bed and planning to sleep. Half of us were asleep just sitting around waiting to board but this lady was GOING FOR IT. After about 3 huge ZZZZZZRRRRKKkkskkskssrrssss I couldn't hold it in anymore, broke the stunned silence, and just giggled till I got it out. What was refreshing that the rest of the forward cabin that was subject to the arresting din of that woman's nasal cavity followed suit had a good chortle too. It was like explosive chortle therapy.
AHhhh - plane rides... where would we be without the stories you provide?
So - I landed in NC. It was clean and gorgeous and I was sad and charmed. Sad that I was in the same state as my little bro and couldn't say hi but charmed by the huge atrium that is their central plaza complete with full grown trees and white rocking chairs beneath them. Var var nice. Very very Southern. They were giving out chicken biscuits too. That was lovely. I'll be back NC, just you wait.
So I finally land in DC at Dulles and am totally amazed that the gate I was at was the same gate I got off as a missionary 9 years ago (miracle #2). There wasn't the welcoming committee of my mission president, his wife and the three assistants like there was before, but it was the same gate with the same shops with the same strange and exciting smells. Then I got hugs, they all carried my luggage, and met me at the gate but this time around I had to find my own way and carry my own luggage. Miraculously (#3) my luggage was the first one off of the carousel. That never happens to me.
This trip was funny in a number of ways. One was that I was staying with a group of girls that, honestly, I had never met. Christian (my cousin I was visiting) has this marvelous ability to introduce me to awesome and amazing people. I've noticed that the cousin types and I sometimes share friends like we would clothes. We're all pretty similar personalities with similar senses of humor so we often find ourselves one big group of happy most of the time.
There were two particular girls that had been on the same email list as myself or something sometime a year and a half back and we somehow started chatting. I honestly can't remember how the introduction process went exactly, just that we got wind of each other, started IMing and all was well. Now they're both regulars and people I consider real friends. What was funny that we had never actually shook hands. It's pretty weird how IMing and Facebook photo albums have the ability to make you feel totally familiar with someone but it does.
One of them Jennie (hi Jennie!) picked me up (because everyone else was working) and we went home and gallivanted the DC landscape. We drove in to Alexandria from Arlington and she was patient with all of my missionary ramblings
"we used to tract in there all the time! And we contacted people in that CVS all the time! We weren't allowed to be here after night fall by ourselves, the elders yelled at us once about it........ And that's where I met Roberto. I met him at the metro and 3 weeks later he was passing the sacrament. And we broke down there once and that's where we accidentally went outside the mission"
Would. not. shut. up. And she, in her sleep deprived, medical student with a looming 15 page paper due super sweet way, heard me and we had a lovely proper time.
We grabbed lunch at this Italian place in Old Town Alexandria complete with a quiet back room (that I'm sure was where secret documents were exchanged at some given point) and stogie smoking man in front.
We attempted to hang out at Mt. Vernon but it was this plantation and the actual house was like a mile hike in and it cost $15 and we only had about an hour to do it all, so we just gave ole Georgie a salute. He knows we care, and we headed off to GLADYS KNIGHT
Now - I should tell you...
Two weeks ago Patrick and I went to one of the coolest concerts on the planet. It was called the Hotel Cafe Tour. The Hotel Cafe is this music joint on Cahuenga that is a singer/songwriter zone only. Some of the best acts in town are regulars. Like, imagine the Garden State soundtrack artists having a get together every night - Yeah. Hotel Cafe.
So... anyways. A few of these guys decided to get a single band together and a bus and shack up for 6 weeks and go on tour - hence Hotel Cafe Tour. I was looking for tickets for William Fitzsimmons sometime in January and I came across this gig and started looking at the bill and my jaw kept dropping lower and lower and lower with the names. Cary Brothers, Sara Barilles, Priscilla Ahn, Joshua Raiden, Greg Laswell, Meiko, Ingrid Michaelson, Dan Wilson all of these people along with William Fitzsimmons I had been joyfully listening to were all going to be in one place at one time. Needless to say I WAS EXCITED and the show was one of the single best shows I've ever been to. It's a post all its own, but one of the people who just shone through all of these acts was Ingrid (and that's saying something). Dude - she did a version of "Creep" on a ukulele and it was hauntingly beautiful.
I found out Ingrid was playing George Washington University the weekend I was going to be in DC so I hit up Christian and essentially said
"WehavetogoWehavetogoWehavetogoWehavetogo. Its only $15 and WehavetogoWehavetogoWehavetogoWehavetogo "
and he said
"Well..... I already have these Gladys Knight tickets.... and they're free."
So I said OK, a bit disappointed that I was going to be giving up Ingrid for the Motown Choir and stuff but still super excited to spend time with Christian and to visit the Alexandria Stake Center (one of my old areas).
But I properly repented after this show. It. Was. AWESOME. That little Gladys is one powerhouse of a woman. I can't remember feeling the spirit more strongly when someone was singing "I am a Child of God" and listening to hers and her husband's conversion stories and testimonies was amazing and uplifting, not to mention funny and refreshing. If you ever have a chance to catch her and her choir - DO. I really owe Christian for taking me.
Jennie didn't stay for the show, she went home to cuddle up to her paper so I was trusted to Christian's care and we went back to his place and I met his crew including his HLP. This is the Heterosexual Life Partner. They're rather affectionate best friends that ... happen to have... public... tickle fights...... and tell each other.... how hot they are.... and stuff. I dunno. It gets a bit creepy if I think about it too much so I'm not going to. I'll just say - I've heard about him from more than one person and how he had the nickname "Greek god" on his mission (given to him by the members) and his 6' 8" Ivy League basketball playing self. He is an individual that is hard to miss and did fall going up Christian's basement steps because his size 22 feet didn't fit on the stairs. I wasn't used to someone being so quiet that was a good friend of my cousins though. That was a bit out of character. We're all pretty vocal in our circles so I'm still not sure what to make of him but - yes I've met the HLP.
A few weeks before, with the help of the HLP, Christian's church basketball team won the Stake championship and someone recorded it and Chris wanted to watch it that night. So yes - I sat in my cousin's basement and watched a recording of a church basketball game. That's how much I love my cousin. And honestly, it wouldn't be a family type trip without some kind of sporting event. At one point (in the game) Christian got heated and did the guerrilla arm thing at the ref and I said "There he is! There's my Chris!" because that's how I remember most of his high school games. At least that's the point where things got interesting at those games. We watched Hot Rod after that. This has become canon in family circles and I had yet to see it and for the parts that I was awake enough and energetic enough for I laughed and laughed. It's a strange feeling to find something totally hilarious, not have the energy to laugh, but desperately want to. It's a funny funny funny flick.
That night I crashed in the love sack at the ladies house, very grateful for a soft place and good people to lean on but mostly totally amazed and comforted at how everything still felt like home.
....tbc
"If you can wake up in a different time and in a different place can you also wake up a different person?"
Thats how Tyler Durden came to be but I'm afraid I don't have the gumption to pull off that wardrobe. Or the cheekbones for that matter.
I got back from Washington DC on Sunday night. It was the first time I've been back to my mission since I went home and the first time I've seen my cousin's set up out there. All I've been doing since is processing the strange and marvelous experience it is and was. I've tried to figure out a way to put all of into some kind of charming travelogue but all I find is myself recuperating from traveling 6000 miles within 72 hours and the consequential mental fog.
So I'll just dump down what I've got and probably go back and edit about 4 times, like I do with all of my blogs but be forewarned - this might be lengthy....
The week leading up to the trip was, to put it mildly, insane. I was asked to teach at this Stake Inservice meeting and to teach teachers how to teach. I was a bit deer-in-the-headlightsish about the matter because I'm essentially a kid still and have limited experience in many many matters, principally that I'm not a mother (the most basic kind of teacher). So I felt ill-qualified. Taking an instructive position with one older, more experienced person is a bit off-setting so the thought of instructing a room full of leaders left me all but petrified. So I did what any self respecting girl would do in the situation.
I put on my pearls and Oscar de la Renta shoes, slaved over a graphic filled powerpoint and prayed really hard. Wednesday night was when it went down and I was flying out Thursday night.
I didn't have a single chance to get away and buy the boots I've been needing, or the dress I've had my eye on, or to get my toes and/or nails done. Not a bloody thing. I was lucky to get laundry done and make the plane.
I was taking the red eye Thursday night, touching down in Charlotte, NC and then catching a connector to DC. The LAX to NC flight was oversold and I didn't have a definite seat assignment so I was a bit irked and afraid even if I DID make it on the plane that I would get some crappy center seat and not be able to sleep a wink and be a miserable bunch of yuck the whole next day. I didn't want to start my trip off in a twit so I said a few silent fervent prayers in those crusty black leather trademarked LAX seats and when they called my name and gave me my ticket it was window seat at the front of the plane. Miracle #1 (there are a good many on this trip so stay tuned) I got to sleep most of the flight but I kept having disturbing dreams of being trapped at airports, needing to pee and dealing with planes full of the creepy goblins from the Spiderwick Chronicles (NOT a children's move btw) that were trying to take over the airport. Just weird crap. But the funniest part of the flight was before we were even on our way to the runway the woman behind me started snoring like it was an Olympic sport. I mean, everyone on the plane was ready for bed and planning to sleep. Half of us were asleep just sitting around waiting to board but this lady was GOING FOR IT. After about 3 huge ZZZZZZRRRRKKkkskkskssrrssss I couldn't hold it in anymore, broke the stunned silence, and just giggled till I got it out. What was refreshing that the rest of the forward cabin that was subject to the arresting din of that woman's nasal cavity followed suit had a good chortle too. It was like explosive chortle therapy.
AHhhh - plane rides... where would we be without the stories you provide?
So - I landed in NC. It was clean and gorgeous and I was sad and charmed. Sad that I was in the same state as my little bro and couldn't say hi but charmed by the huge atrium that is their central plaza complete with full grown trees and white rocking chairs beneath them. Var var nice. Very very Southern. They were giving out chicken biscuits too. That was lovely. I'll be back NC, just you wait.
So I finally land in DC at Dulles and am totally amazed that the gate I was at was the same gate I got off as a missionary 9 years ago (miracle #2). There wasn't the welcoming committee of my mission president, his wife and the three assistants like there was before, but it was the same gate with the same shops with the same strange and exciting smells. Then I got hugs, they all carried my luggage, and met me at the gate but this time around I had to find my own way and carry my own luggage. Miraculously (#3) my luggage was the first one off of the carousel. That never happens to me.
This trip was funny in a number of ways. One was that I was staying with a group of girls that, honestly, I had never met. Christian (my cousin I was visiting) has this marvelous ability to introduce me to awesome and amazing people. I've noticed that the cousin types and I sometimes share friends like we would clothes. We're all pretty similar personalities with similar senses of humor so we often find ourselves one big group of happy most of the time.
There were two particular girls that had been on the same email list as myself or something sometime a year and a half back and we somehow started chatting. I honestly can't remember how the introduction process went exactly, just that we got wind of each other, started IMing and all was well. Now they're both regulars and people I consider real friends. What was funny that we had never actually shook hands. It's pretty weird how IMing and Facebook photo albums have the ability to make you feel totally familiar with someone but it does.
One of them Jennie (hi Jennie!) picked me up (because everyone else was working) and we went home and gallivanted the DC landscape. We drove in to Alexandria from Arlington and she was patient with all of my missionary ramblings
"we used to tract in there all the time! And we contacted people in that CVS all the time! We weren't allowed to be here after night fall by ourselves, the elders yelled at us once about it........ And that's where I met Roberto. I met him at the metro and 3 weeks later he was passing the sacrament. And we broke down there once and that's where we accidentally went outside the mission"
Would. not. shut. up. And she, in her sleep deprived, medical student with a looming 15 page paper due super sweet way, heard me and we had a lovely proper time.
We grabbed lunch at this Italian place in Old Town Alexandria complete with a quiet back room (that I'm sure was where secret documents were exchanged at some given point) and stogie smoking man in front.
We attempted to hang out at Mt. Vernon but it was this plantation and the actual house was like a mile hike in and it cost $15 and we only had about an hour to do it all, so we just gave ole Georgie a salute. He knows we care, and we headed off to GLADYS KNIGHT
Now - I should tell you...
Two weeks ago Patrick and I went to one of the coolest concerts on the planet. It was called the Hotel Cafe Tour. The Hotel Cafe is this music joint on Cahuenga that is a singer/songwriter zone only. Some of the best acts in town are regulars. Like, imagine the Garden State soundtrack artists having a get together every night - Yeah. Hotel Cafe.
So... anyways. A few of these guys decided to get a single band together and a bus and shack up for 6 weeks and go on tour - hence Hotel Cafe Tour. I was looking for tickets for William Fitzsimmons sometime in January and I came across this gig and started looking at the bill and my jaw kept dropping lower and lower and lower with the names. Cary Brothers, Sara Barilles, Priscilla Ahn, Joshua Raiden, Greg Laswell, Meiko, Ingrid Michaelson, Dan Wilson all of these people along with William Fitzsimmons I had been joyfully listening to were all going to be in one place at one time. Needless to say I WAS EXCITED and the show was one of the single best shows I've ever been to. It's a post all its own, but one of the people who just shone through all of these acts was Ingrid (and that's saying something). Dude - she did a version of "Creep" on a ukulele and it was hauntingly beautiful.
I found out Ingrid was playing George Washington University the weekend I was going to be in DC so I hit up Christian and essentially said
"WehavetogoWehavetogoWehavetogoWehavetogo. Its only $15 and WehavetogoWehavetogoWehavetogoWehavetogo "
and he said
"Well..... I already have these Gladys Knight tickets.... and they're free."
So I said OK, a bit disappointed that I was going to be giving up Ingrid for the Motown Choir and stuff but still super excited to spend time with Christian and to visit the Alexandria Stake Center (one of my old areas).
But I properly repented after this show. It. Was. AWESOME. That little Gladys is one powerhouse of a woman. I can't remember feeling the spirit more strongly when someone was singing "I am a Child of God" and listening to hers and her husband's conversion stories and testimonies was amazing and uplifting, not to mention funny and refreshing. If you ever have a chance to catch her and her choir - DO. I really owe Christian for taking me.
Jennie didn't stay for the show, she went home to cuddle up to her paper so I was trusted to Christian's care and we went back to his place and I met his crew including his HLP. This is the Heterosexual Life Partner. They're rather affectionate best friends that ... happen to have... public... tickle fights...... and tell each other.... how hot they are.... and stuff. I dunno. It gets a bit creepy if I think about it too much so I'm not going to. I'll just say - I've heard about him from more than one person and how he had the nickname "Greek god" on his mission (given to him by the members) and his 6' 8" Ivy League basketball playing self. He is an individual that is hard to miss and did fall going up Christian's basement steps because his size 22 feet didn't fit on the stairs. I wasn't used to someone being so quiet that was a good friend of my cousins though. That was a bit out of character. We're all pretty vocal in our circles so I'm still not sure what to make of him but - yes I've met the HLP.
A few weeks before, with the help of the HLP, Christian's church basketball team won the Stake championship and someone recorded it and Chris wanted to watch it that night. So yes - I sat in my cousin's basement and watched a recording of a church basketball game. That's how much I love my cousin. And honestly, it wouldn't be a family type trip without some kind of sporting event. At one point (in the game) Christian got heated and did the guerrilla arm thing at the ref and I said "There he is! There's my Chris!" because that's how I remember most of his high school games. At least that's the point where things got interesting at those games. We watched Hot Rod after that. This has become canon in family circles and I had yet to see it and for the parts that I was awake enough and energetic enough for I laughed and laughed. It's a strange feeling to find something totally hilarious, not have the energy to laugh, but desperately want to. It's a funny funny funny flick.
That night I crashed in the love sack at the ladies house, very grateful for a soft place and good people to lean on but mostly totally amazed and comforted at how everything still felt like home.
....tbc
Monday, March 10, 2008
Reason, Voice of
Dear choice and gorgeous people I call Friends and Family,
So I'm feeling much much better about Grad School (or lack thereof at the moment). I had a good cry yesterday and let myself feel what I needed to feel and it was gloriously cathartic.
I have many stars to issue on the matter. I truly have some of the choicest group of friends on the planet. I've got a blazing bright future and I know that and I promise I won't forget.
I also have an amazing family.
I talk about them frequently.
Ad nausium probably. Most of you know this.
They're amazing for many different reasons and one of them is that they ignore me when I say "I don't want to talk about it", are strong enough to get me to talk about it, and manage to say exactly what I need to hear in a way that I'll understand.
One of the most visible people with this capacity is my cousin Patrick.
Patrick and I had an exchange yesterday that I think is totally representational of what I was truly crying about and what I needed to hear to stop and if I was to dive into a conversation about the last few days it would probably be a cognate of this exchange.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
LIZ: Thanks for the call last night and your message. I'm a mess right now but I'll be OK. I just need to finish crying about it. I hope that's soon - I've had to redo my make up three times today. I can't believe how much of myself I've tied up in this. And I have to tell everyone that I respect that I'm not good enough. I don't know what faction of the Carma Bureau I pissed off but this feels like Catholic Penitence.
PATRICK: I'm sorry I missed your call back. I was pretty beat and I just crashed after I didn't get you.
You've been on my mind a ton. I even dreamt I went with the two guys who owned my gym in Tuscon, and stormed the campus and forced them to let you in. And one of the decision makers was an alien. But that is neither here nor there. And I totally get dropping a lot of one's identity into something. I do it like nobody else.
But to say you're not good enough is pretty obtuse for a girl as smart as you. I bet it feels as such, but the net of their decision is that you weren't a good fit. Not that you personally or even academically weren't good enough.
Believe it or not - I think this might be a blessing. That decision has you free to architect your future in a myriad of powerful ways.
Just a thought. I love you so much. And let's keep talking.
LIZ: I love you too and all your points make sense. Absolute brilliant sense.
You're right and I do feel a bit of relief knowing I can proceed any direction I want at the moment but it feels foggy and so uncertain and I don't feel qualified to recommend myself to much. I don't mean to be obtuse and I don't think I'm a window-licker by any means, but I'm not someone that apparently is qualified to do much besides be a coffee mug wisdom maven.
On paper I am very ordinary sadly. Grades and test scores are the only language these people speak or value sadly. And you have to play the game to change it and I feel like I can't even get a ticket to watch.
Its enough to just make you want to disappear.
PATRICK: I could speak to this at length at some point over coffee and Mexican Cokes. And I understand it lands as simple and trite - but if you believe it, then it becomes accurate. I think you are infinitely qualified. And in an infinite number of way that one can't be taught. And as such one can't put a price tag on you
And you are now potentially free from the linear path that academia provides. I think you and I will come up with a way to market you once you know what direction you wanna take.
Its not time to disappear. Its time to shine. And I'm with you.
LIZ: Then I can't loose can I? Maybe I should just focus on finding a brilliant and wealthy husband and content myself to being a kept woman with charming children.
PATRICK: Always a solid strategy. And you're certainly qualified to snag one of them.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
I need to stand back more often and realize how well I'm looked after and how well I'm known and loved. And honestly, that knowledge is worth more to me than a PhD, despite the earning power attached.
I'm out of the emo pit and I have a good amount of work ahead of me but I wanted to blog about this because I don't want to forget what it was like there, who went there with me, what I learned there, and who brought me home.
all the love I have to give and more,
~Lizzie (Jane)
So I'm feeling much much better about Grad School (or lack thereof at the moment). I had a good cry yesterday and let myself feel what I needed to feel and it was gloriously cathartic.
I have many stars to issue on the matter. I truly have some of the choicest group of friends on the planet. I've got a blazing bright future and I know that and I promise I won't forget.
I also have an amazing family.
I talk about them frequently.
Ad nausium probably. Most of you know this.
They're amazing for many different reasons and one of them is that they ignore me when I say "I don't want to talk about it", are strong enough to get me to talk about it, and manage to say exactly what I need to hear in a way that I'll understand.
One of the most visible people with this capacity is my cousin Patrick.
Patrick and I had an exchange yesterday that I think is totally representational of what I was truly crying about and what I needed to hear to stop and if I was to dive into a conversation about the last few days it would probably be a cognate of this exchange.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
LIZ: Thanks for the call last night and your message. I'm a mess right now but I'll be OK. I just need to finish crying about it. I hope that's soon - I've had to redo my make up three times today. I can't believe how much of myself I've tied up in this. And I have to tell everyone that I respect that I'm not good enough. I don't know what faction of the Carma Bureau I pissed off but this feels like Catholic Penitence.
PATRICK: I'm sorry I missed your call back. I was pretty beat and I just crashed after I didn't get you.
You've been on my mind a ton. I even dreamt I went with the two guys who owned my gym in Tuscon, and stormed the campus and forced them to let you in. And one of the decision makers was an alien. But that is neither here nor there. And I totally get dropping a lot of one's identity into something. I do it like nobody else.
But to say you're not good enough is pretty obtuse for a girl as smart as you. I bet it feels as such, but the net of their decision is that you weren't a good fit. Not that you personally or even academically weren't good enough.
Believe it or not - I think this might be a blessing. That decision has you free to architect your future in a myriad of powerful ways.
Just a thought. I love you so much. And let's keep talking.
LIZ: I love you too and all your points make sense. Absolute brilliant sense.
You're right and I do feel a bit of relief knowing I can proceed any direction I want at the moment but it feels foggy and so uncertain and I don't feel qualified to recommend myself to much. I don't mean to be obtuse and I don't think I'm a window-licker by any means, but I'm not someone that apparently is qualified to do much besides be a coffee mug wisdom maven.
On paper I am very ordinary sadly. Grades and test scores are the only language these people speak or value sadly. And you have to play the game to change it and I feel like I can't even get a ticket to watch.
Its enough to just make you want to disappear.
PATRICK: I could speak to this at length at some point over coffee and Mexican Cokes. And I understand it lands as simple and trite - but if you believe it, then it becomes accurate. I think you are infinitely qualified. And in an infinite number of way that one can't be taught. And as such one can't put a price tag on you
And you are now potentially free from the linear path that academia provides. I think you and I will come up with a way to market you once you know what direction you wanna take.
Its not time to disappear. Its time to shine. And I'm with you.
LIZ: Then I can't loose can I? Maybe I should just focus on finding a brilliant and wealthy husband and content myself to being a kept woman with charming children.
PATRICK: Always a solid strategy. And you're certainly qualified to snag one of them.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
I need to stand back more often and realize how well I'm looked after and how well I'm known and loved. And honestly, that knowledge is worth more to me than a PhD, despite the earning power attached.
I'm out of the emo pit and I have a good amount of work ahead of me but I wanted to blog about this because I don't want to forget what it was like there, who went there with me, what I learned there, and who brought me home.
all the love I have to give and more,
~Lizzie (Jane)
Wednesday, February 20, 2008
Wednesday Giggles
So this is what made me laugh the hardest this week.
This is my very amped cousin after playing Rock Band into the wee hours of the night.
This is my very amped cousin after playing Rock Band into the wee hours of the night.
Wednesday, January 30, 2008
Wednesday Giggles
So I have two offerings of hilarity today -
One being this pic of my usually collected and suave cousin who lets out his inner Michaelangelo periodically.
And the other being a video from one one of our favorite comedians -
One being this pic of my usually collected and suave cousin who lets out his inner Michaelangelo periodically.
And the other being a video from one one of our favorite comedians -
Friday, October 5, 2007
Roots
I'm totally not pioneer stock at all.I love their songs. I love their stories. I admire their resolve. I marvel at their tenacity and I thoroughly enjoy any graceful use of a bonnet.
But I'm not one of them. My ancestors were Irish, Welsh and Scottish singers who heard a missionary district meeting's opening hymn, were taught, accepted the truth and came over on the railroad. It was fans and tea service for us thank you. Especially coming to Zion.
The docks that they came through and the places that they gathered as a family before making the Utah jump were in Virgina, North Carolina, and Louisiana.
I find it beautifully symmetrical that the places our family has been called to serve our full time missions have been to (me to Virginia and Washington DC and Jonathan to Charolette North Carolina) were the places my family first came to America. It gives me goosebumps when I think about it. The docks that I went and taught tourists at were the same ones my converted family first tasted Zion. I love it. So with this in mind I was sure as sure a sure person that when Nick opened his call it would be for New Orleans, LA but he got it today -
And hes going to - NORTH CAROLINA. Raleigh, North Carolina.
There is still work to do in the big NC so its going to take a few Elder Long's go make it happen. I'm totally sure my kids are going to Louisiana now though. Almost positive.
I can't even begin to tell you what I feel and how much of it I'm feeling. Nick receiving his call has been a fantastic journey for everybody. I think we're all way more invested in it than in the previous two calls in the family. Everyone rallied around him. We all changed our diets to help him make weight. We would work out 3-5 times a week. It's every one's call really. He's the best gym buddy that a girl could hope for. Its a bit terrifying to know how real the call is and that as of Dec 19 he will be a plaque wearing member of The Work. I'm so happy for him!!! And I stand continually amazed at the beauty and cyclical nature of The Plan.So yeah - he's leaving. My baby brother is off to the world. Well - to North Carolina anyway. May the Confederate flag fly and the red velvet abound! We're going home.
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