1. a season of life is not a means to an end.
2. let's all be dreamers again.
maybe i'll explain later. this is all i have right now.
Wednesday, March 31, 2010
the best day of the semester.
when i woke up yesterday, all i wanted was to go back to sleep. i almost skipped class. five hours of sleep is not enough. but two cups of coffee later, i got there. i'm so glad i went because there was a guest speaker talking mostly about lame stuff, but then at the end he talked about what he looks for in prospective employees and how close to twenty-five MILLION jobs are going to open up in the next five years and also about how the recession is over and his business is back to where it was in june of 2008. i almost stood up and gave an enthusiastic "HALLELUJAH!" in the middle of class.
in the afternoon i went to a lean operations workshop/simulation thing. i was the truck driver. seriously. but that only consisted of moving fake clocks from one table to the other. and it got me out of my 5-6:15 for the rest of the week.
after that, i walked back to the apartment and got so hot that all i wanted was to jump in the lake. so i did. i went to the shiloh road house and jumped off their dock. oh. my. cold. then morg and i layed out in the sun while being serenaded by the sound of their neighbors building a tree house in the backyard.
then we grilled a bunch of food and ate and drank blue moons on the porch and talked and laughed and schemed and it was just perfect.
el lago en marzo still reigns!
(the scheming was about how we are going to disconnect their floating dock and paddle it out into the middle of the lake and partyyyyyy!)
in the afternoon i went to a lean operations workshop/simulation thing. i was the truck driver. seriously. but that only consisted of moving fake clocks from one table to the other. and it got me out of my 5-6:15 for the rest of the week.
after that, i walked back to the apartment and got so hot that all i wanted was to jump in the lake. so i did. i went to the shiloh road house and jumped off their dock. oh. my. cold. then morg and i layed out in the sun while being serenaded by the sound of their neighbors building a tree house in the backyard.
then we grilled a bunch of food and ate and drank blue moons on the porch and talked and laughed and schemed and it was just perfect.
el lago en marzo still reigns!
(the scheming was about how we are going to disconnect their floating dock and paddle it out into the middle of the lake and partyyyyyy!)
Monday, March 29, 2010
is it possible to be both?
it seems to me that we have two choices. we can be "all things to all people", or we can be "in the world but not of it." these are the two classic verses that christians tend to use to rationalize their behavior. in the first camp are the megachurchy, designer-jean-wearing churchgoers that ask, "if we don't fit in with the (enter favorite stereotypical subculture here), how will we reach them?" in the opposite corner are the irresistible revolutionaries who only shop at thrift stores and look like they just rolled out of bed.
this is my question: can i be both?
yes. Paul did say that he was trying to be all things to all people so that all people could be saved. but i still can't rationalize spending $200 on a pair of pants when there are starving kids in my own backyard. (not to mention all over the globe.)
again, yes, Jesus did say in the gospel of John that we were not to be of the world. that the world should hate us for His name's sake. we are not to prescribe to the world's ideas of cool. but in order to do what i believe God has called me to, I'm gonna need some money. which means i need a job. which means i have to look a certain way, or they're gonna "next" me as soon as i walk in the door.
so i ask again. can i be both?
this is my question: can i be both?
yes. Paul did say that he was trying to be all things to all people so that all people could be saved. but i still can't rationalize spending $200 on a pair of pants when there are starving kids in my own backyard. (not to mention all over the globe.)
again, yes, Jesus did say in the gospel of John that we were not to be of the world. that the world should hate us for His name's sake. we are not to prescribe to the world's ideas of cool. but in order to do what i believe God has called me to, I'm gonna need some money. which means i need a job. which means i have to look a certain way, or they're gonna "next" me as soon as i walk in the door.
so i ask again. can i be both?
Saturday, March 27, 2010
i want this to be my life:
I am humbled in this city
There seems to be an endless sea of people like us
Wakeful dreamers, I pass them on the sunlit streets
In our rooms filled with laughter
We make hope from every small disaster
(from "painting by chagall" by the weepies)
There seems to be an endless sea of people like us
Wakeful dreamers, I pass them on the sunlit streets
In our rooms filled with laughter
We make hope from every small disaster
(from "painting by chagall" by the weepies)
progression of a four hour drive
i am kim walker.
i am sara watkins.
now i'm sean watkins. but only because jon foreman sings too low for me.
i am zooey. (if only.)
i am ezra koenig. and i'm not exactly sure what i'm saying.
i am thomas mars. i'm still not exactly sure what i'm saying.
i am daryll hall. and i'm unsuccessfully struggling to restrain myself from dancing while driving.
now i'm deb talan. but i'm always deb talan.
i am sara watkins.
now i'm sean watkins. but only because jon foreman sings too low for me.
i am zooey. (if only.)
i am ezra koenig. and i'm not exactly sure what i'm saying.
i am thomas mars. i'm still not exactly sure what i'm saying.
i am daryll hall. and i'm unsuccessfully struggling to restrain myself from dancing while driving.
now i'm deb talan. but i'm always deb talan.
Thursday, March 25, 2010
this is really beautiful. but also really sad. read on.
"invisible" by judy clement wall
You don’t know me. I live in the upstairs apartment. I’m the one who never turns the music on too loud. You like that, but it’s one of those things you don’t notice. Like your heart. You don’t notice your heart until it malfunctions, until it seizes up trying to find the next beat, shoots pain through your body like an electric current. Or until it breaks. You notice your heart when it breaks.
You don’t know me because I am invisible. I look like everyone else who is invisible. Not like the homeless woman who sleeps under the tarp out back of Benny’s music shop. She’s not invisible. She’s homeless. You see her and look away. She makes you uncomfortable. She makes you wonder how it feels to sleep on a sidewalk under a tarp in February rain. Or else she makes you frantic, eager to fill your mind with other thoughts – your to-do list, your meeting tomorrow, your kid’s soccer game in the morning.
Either way, looking at her, or looking away, you see her, the homeless woman. She’s not invisible.
But I’m not out there on the street. Invisible people live in houses and apartment buildings. We have beds and refrigerators and windows with blinds on them. We have mailboxes close enough to yours that every now and then you get our mail by mistake. Flipping through your stack, you come to an electric bill for me and what registers for you is not my name, but only how the letters don’t arrange themselves into yours.
You don’t know me. You don’t know that my car’s in the shop so I’ve been taking the bus. You pass me, there at the bus stop, every morning on your way to Starbucks. Yesterday I went to Starbucks too. I stood behind you in line.
I wanted to tell you about my car. Because we’re neighbors, and because it turns out I don’t really mind taking the bus so I’m thinking I’ll do it even after my car gets fixed. I think you’d like that. You seem like someone who cares about the planet.
You’d say, “Wow, that’s great,” and you’d mean it. Maybe we’d hug. People hug a lot now. I like it when that happens, spontaneous public affection. But when you’re invisible, certain things are hard, like saying, “Hey, I’m you neighbor,” to the person in front of you at Starbucks.
Yesterday, you ordered a non-fat vanilla latte with an extra shot of espresso. I ordered coffee. I left before you. There’s no wait for plain coffee. I walked back to the bus stop and rode the bus to work. I’m not invisible at work, but it’s not the kind of place where people talk about the planet. Or hug.
You don’t know me. I live in the upstairs apartment. I’m quiet. I walk quietly, read, eat, listen to NPR quietly. Every now and then, I feel an urge to break the quiet wide open. Turn up the music impossibly loud, dance, stomp, cry, scream. I imagine you downstairs. Surprised. Suddenly aware of your upstairs neighbor.
“What the fuck?” you’d say, and maybe you’d bang on the ceiling, but I wouldn’t hear it because I’m doing so much banging of my own, splashing through my apartment that’s filling up with my tears and the words I never say, and me. Me.
And when the water started to leak through your ceiling, you’d come upstairs, knock, and then pound on my door to be heard. I’d open the door and you’d start to speak, “What the?“ but the words would get stuck in your throat because there’d I’d be, breathless, hoarse, wet, reborn.
You’d recognize me. You’d see me. You’d know me then.
http://makingmemagazine.com/index.php/2010/02/invisible/
You don’t know me. I live in the upstairs apartment. I’m the one who never turns the music on too loud. You like that, but it’s one of those things you don’t notice. Like your heart. You don’t notice your heart until it malfunctions, until it seizes up trying to find the next beat, shoots pain through your body like an electric current. Or until it breaks. You notice your heart when it breaks.
You don’t know me because I am invisible. I look like everyone else who is invisible. Not like the homeless woman who sleeps under the tarp out back of Benny’s music shop. She’s not invisible. She’s homeless. You see her and look away. She makes you uncomfortable. She makes you wonder how it feels to sleep on a sidewalk under a tarp in February rain. Or else she makes you frantic, eager to fill your mind with other thoughts – your to-do list, your meeting tomorrow, your kid’s soccer game in the morning.
Either way, looking at her, or looking away, you see her, the homeless woman. She’s not invisible.
But I’m not out there on the street. Invisible people live in houses and apartment buildings. We have beds and refrigerators and windows with blinds on them. We have mailboxes close enough to yours that every now and then you get our mail by mistake. Flipping through your stack, you come to an electric bill for me and what registers for you is not my name, but only how the letters don’t arrange themselves into yours.
You don’t know me. You don’t know that my car’s in the shop so I’ve been taking the bus. You pass me, there at the bus stop, every morning on your way to Starbucks. Yesterday I went to Starbucks too. I stood behind you in line.
I wanted to tell you about my car. Because we’re neighbors, and because it turns out I don’t really mind taking the bus so I’m thinking I’ll do it even after my car gets fixed. I think you’d like that. You seem like someone who cares about the planet.
You’d say, “Wow, that’s great,” and you’d mean it. Maybe we’d hug. People hug a lot now. I like it when that happens, spontaneous public affection. But when you’re invisible, certain things are hard, like saying, “Hey, I’m you neighbor,” to the person in front of you at Starbucks.
Yesterday, you ordered a non-fat vanilla latte with an extra shot of espresso. I ordered coffee. I left before you. There’s no wait for plain coffee. I walked back to the bus stop and rode the bus to work. I’m not invisible at work, but it’s not the kind of place where people talk about the planet. Or hug.
You don’t know me. I live in the upstairs apartment. I’m quiet. I walk quietly, read, eat, listen to NPR quietly. Every now and then, I feel an urge to break the quiet wide open. Turn up the music impossibly loud, dance, stomp, cry, scream. I imagine you downstairs. Surprised. Suddenly aware of your upstairs neighbor.
“What the fuck?” you’d say, and maybe you’d bang on the ceiling, but I wouldn’t hear it because I’m doing so much banging of my own, splashing through my apartment that’s filling up with my tears and the words I never say, and me. Me.
And when the water started to leak through your ceiling, you’d come upstairs, knock, and then pound on my door to be heard. I’d open the door and you’d start to speak, “What the?“ but the words would get stuck in your throat because there’d I’d be, breathless, hoarse, wet, reborn.
You’d recognize me. You’d see me. You’d know me then.
http://makingmemagazine.com/index.php/2010/02/invisible/
Wednesday, March 24, 2010
a series of unfortunate events
whelp
i got done with my study guide at 1 pm
emailed it to myself as a .docx document
got my things together
walked to sirrine
realized i didn't have a scantron
so i waited in line to talk to my professor for 15 minutes
to ask him if i could borrow a scantron
he gave it to me
i realized i didn't have a pencil
THEN i walked down to the computer lab
the attachment wouldn't open
by then it was 1:45
ran back to the apartment
got there at 1:57
(test was at 2:30)
grabbed all my junk and re-sent the attachment and had to ride my bike to class
went back to the lab to print, had to wait in line
and got to class just in time for my test
without studying one minute
i got done with my study guide at 1 pm
emailed it to myself as a .docx document
got my things together
walked to sirrine
realized i didn't have a scantron
so i waited in line to talk to my professor for 15 minutes
to ask him if i could borrow a scantron
he gave it to me
i realized i didn't have a pencil
THEN i walked down to the computer lab
the attachment wouldn't open
by then it was 1:45
ran back to the apartment
got there at 1:57
(test was at 2:30)
grabbed all my junk and re-sent the attachment and had to ride my bike to class
went back to the lab to print, had to wait in line
and got to class just in time for my test
without studying one minute
you know it's been a long time since you've been to the grocery when....
....lunch consists of a chewy bar from last summer, a handful mixed nuts, and a stale birthday cupcake.
ahhhhh
it's a sad day when most americans would choose garbage pickup over public libraries. (http://www.timepolls.com/hppolls/archive/poll_results_622.html) i'm incensed that the values of our country have shifted so drastically that we care more about convenience than intellect. if the government starts closing libraries, i'm moving to canada. and jenny's coming with me. anyone else want in?
Monday, March 22, 2010
Saturday, March 20, 2010
philly was a blur
we got to philly, snuck in on a tour of independence hall, rushed through the liberty bell, walked to the love statue in jfk plaza, then walked to the phila museum of art to run up the steps like rocky. except i didn't because of my dumb ankle. then we got a cab to geno's for cheese steaks. soooo good. (apparently i've turned back into a carnivore on this trip.) then we walked through the COOLEST neighborhood that was almost sketchy but really lovely. i'd totally live there. then chan and kristan and i went on an adventure to find the sports complex. we sweet talked our way into the parking lot, had a spontaneous dance party, and drove back to the hotel via boathouse row. it's SO cool at night. each house is lit up and looks really cool. then we went to a bar down the street from the hotel...we didn't want to be toooo lame. then we went to sleep and woke up at 4:30 am and drove a million hours home.
Wednesday, March 17, 2010
st. pat's in boston
ridiculous. seas of green. green beer. green people from too much green beer. not really my scene but still fun.
today we went to fenway for a tour. it was actually pretty interesting, despite my lack of any interest in baseball. after that we went back to quincy market for something...i can't remember at this point...exhaustion has reared its ugly head.
then we went to find lobster rolls for lunch...disappointing to say the least, but now we can all say we've had them. i'm sure they were great...supposed to be the best in boston...just not what i was expecting.
after lunch, we headed out to harvard on the T (that's what they call the subway in boston) and wandered around there. liz and i wanted to sneak into a class just to say we had...but then we chickened out and ended up using the restrooms in the science building...man, we're rebels.
after that, we went back downtown to the arlington area and walked around a bit and found the perfect spot in boston commons (their smaller but less sketchy version of central park) to people watch. then we found a starbucks so chan could charge her phone.
then we split up and liz and i went to dinner in the north end (where all the irish pubs are) and chan and kristan went to the celtics/knicks game. let me tell you. downtown boston on st. patrick's is absolutely crazy. great people watching. and the green bud light wasn't bad either.
today we went to fenway for a tour. it was actually pretty interesting, despite my lack of any interest in baseball. after that we went back to quincy market for something...i can't remember at this point...exhaustion has reared its ugly head.
then we went to find lobster rolls for lunch...disappointing to say the least, but now we can all say we've had them. i'm sure they were great...supposed to be the best in boston...just not what i was expecting.
after lunch, we headed out to harvard on the T (that's what they call the subway in boston) and wandered around there. liz and i wanted to sneak into a class just to say we had...but then we chickened out and ended up using the restrooms in the science building...man, we're rebels.
after that, we went back downtown to the arlington area and walked around a bit and found the perfect spot in boston commons (their smaller but less sketchy version of central park) to people watch. then we found a starbucks so chan could charge her phone.
then we split up and liz and i went to dinner in the north end (where all the irish pubs are) and chan and kristan went to the celtics/knicks game. let me tell you. downtown boston on st. patrick's is absolutely crazy. great people watching. and the green bud light wasn't bad either.
i'm a bad blogger
and i'm exhausted out of my mind.
monday, we woke up at 4:30 to go to the today show. we shook hands with matt and al and then got matt to sign larkin's happy birthday poster. we were on tv for about ten seconds! i can't wait to go look at the tivo and video it. dad said i was waving so hard i looked like i was going to decapitate someone.
after that, we went back to the hotel and packed up and drove to boston. we went straight into town and went shopping (the only inside activity we had planned because of the torrential rain and hurricane force winds) for a few hours. we went to dinner at a pub near boston commons. then we went to sleep. because at this point, we had been awake for 15 hours already. and it was only nine pm.
yesterday, we walked the freedom trail, which covers most of the important historical sites in boston. (we also went into the cooooolest old bookstore. heaven. but they didn't have any old editions of madeleine.) after freedom trail, we went to mike's pastry in little italy. i've never had cannoli before this, but i could tell it was good. i'd probably have liked it more if i liked sweet stuff more.
we went to cheers on beacon hill for lunch, and then headed out to the sam adams brewery for a tour. it was super interesting, and came with free beer! i liked the third kind the best...it's something that's only available in boston. after that, we went back to the harbor to relax for a few minutes.
then we went back to little italy for dinner. we ate at a place called giacomo's. mmmm. eggplant, red pepper, and black olive ravioli with plum tomato, onion, and prosciutto sauce. with goat cheese on top. yum. after dinner, we came home and i CRASHED. eight pm, i was out.
happy st. patrick's day!
monday, we woke up at 4:30 to go to the today show. we shook hands with matt and al and then got matt to sign larkin's happy birthday poster. we were on tv for about ten seconds! i can't wait to go look at the tivo and video it. dad said i was waving so hard i looked like i was going to decapitate someone.
after that, we went back to the hotel and packed up and drove to boston. we went straight into town and went shopping (the only inside activity we had planned because of the torrential rain and hurricane force winds) for a few hours. we went to dinner at a pub near boston commons. then we went to sleep. because at this point, we had been awake for 15 hours already. and it was only nine pm.
yesterday, we walked the freedom trail, which covers most of the important historical sites in boston. (we also went into the cooooolest old bookstore. heaven. but they didn't have any old editions of madeleine.) after freedom trail, we went to mike's pastry in little italy. i've never had cannoli before this, but i could tell it was good. i'd probably have liked it more if i liked sweet stuff more.
we went to cheers on beacon hill for lunch, and then headed out to the sam adams brewery for a tour. it was super interesting, and came with free beer! i liked the third kind the best...it's something that's only available in boston. after that, we went back to the harbor to relax for a few minutes.
then we went back to little italy for dinner. we ate at a place called giacomo's. mmmm. eggplant, red pepper, and black olive ravioli with plum tomato, onion, and prosciutto sauce. with goat cheese on top. yum. after dinner, we came home and i CRASHED. eight pm, i was out.
happy st. patrick's day!
Sunday, March 14, 2010
"coach, louis vuitton, messenger bags, stolen sh*t!"
that's what we heard in times square from a guy selling hocked purses today. we all laughed for almost a block.
this morning, we woke up and walked to a bagel shop near our hotel. best bagel i've ever had. the thing was bigger than my face. then chan and i walked to the 23rd street station to catch a train to the met while liz and kristan walked to the 24th street station to go to times square.
the met. the metropolitan museum of art. dali. picasso. pisarro. monet. cezanne. chagall. van gogh. degas. miro. it was stunning. i saw everything i wanted to see and more. even the building was a work of art. the french rooms were stunning.
after that, we grabbed a real new york hot dog and scoped out central park. it was really beautiful and great to have seen. we walked to the strawberry fields memorial to john lennon, and then walked past the hotel where he was killed. then we went to a starbucks to wait for kristan and elizabeth. after we met back up, we headed to 5th avenue to window shop. i was too intimidated and uninterested to go into the stores...except the nike store where i fell in love with a pair of shoes...but i didn't get them.
we decided tonight would be a good night for a cheap meal, so we went to mcdonald's in times square for dinner. we were all totally exhausted after that, so we came back to the hotel. currently i'm looking out the window into the loft next door and wishing i had their apartment/life in general. and thinking about how much i don't want to wake up at four a.m. to get on the today show. but how i kind of want to.
boston tomorrow. check out random pics from today.
this morning, we woke up and walked to a bagel shop near our hotel. best bagel i've ever had. the thing was bigger than my face. then chan and i walked to the 23rd street station to catch a train to the met while liz and kristan walked to the 24th street station to go to times square.
the met. the metropolitan museum of art. dali. picasso. pisarro. monet. cezanne. chagall. van gogh. degas. miro. it was stunning. i saw everything i wanted to see and more. even the building was a work of art. the french rooms were stunning.
after that, we grabbed a real new york hot dog and scoped out central park. it was really beautiful and great to have seen. we walked to the strawberry fields memorial to john lennon, and then walked past the hotel where he was killed. then we went to a starbucks to wait for kristan and elizabeth. after we met back up, we headed to 5th avenue to window shop. i was too intimidated and uninterested to go into the stores...except the nike store where i fell in love with a pair of shoes...but i didn't get them.
we decided tonight would be a good night for a cheap meal, so we went to mcdonald's in times square for dinner. we were all totally exhausted after that, so we came back to the hotel. currently i'm looking out the window into the loft next door and wishing i had their apartment/life in general. and thinking about how much i don't want to wake up at four a.m. to get on the today show. but how i kind of want to.
boston tomorrow. check out random pics from today.
Saturday, March 13, 2010
three thirteen
we started off around 7:30 going to the world trade center (or lack thereof...no joke) and wall street. we saw the fed which made me super excited...but i was bummed we wouldn't see good ole ben because it was a saturday. we got our pictures with the bull in front of the nyse and then headed to battery park, where we got (very far away, very cloudy) pictures of the statue of liberty.
from there, we headed toward soho to hit up american apparel and rice to riches. after that, we went our separate ways...me to morningside heights to go to the cathedral and the others to yankee stadium for a tour. i had a fair amount of time on the subway by myself and i just got to think a lot about how i'd like to know these peoples' stories. one beautiful young african-american woman reading "their eyes were watching god." the old (or maybe just aged?) man muttering to himself under his breath. the latino girl all dressed up with nowhere to go. where did they come from? where are they going? i wish i knew. (madeleine herself summed it up best here.)
when i got to the cathedral grounds, i hadn't eaten yet, but was far too excited, so i went right in. i went to the visitors' desk and asked for barbara, and, expecting an older woman, was surprised to see a girl not much older than myself say "i'm barbara. are you jordan?" so we went immediately to the library. it. was. amazing. words just won't work to describe how it felt to be in the room where she sat for so long. it was much smaller than i expected, but had much better books, including first editions of many of madeleine's books. one whole shelf was dedicated to her things. "that was her desk," said barbara, motioning to the far corner at the smallest desk in the room, "look at the view from there." i sheepishly apologized for my nerdiness before snapping a few photos. and then, i walked around to her desk and touched it. with my hand. my hand to where madeleine l'engle's hand inevitably sat. i touched her space. i touched genius today. barbara apologized for the terrible weather and showed me the peacocks' cages before we went back to the cathedral.
then i went back in for the cathedral highlights tour and the vertical tour. both very interesting. i'm really glad i went. then i headed back to the subway station. on the way, i stopped for a few pictures across the street when a gust of wind blew my umbrella inside out and one of the metal arms broke. so before getting on the train, i went to a duane reed (the pharmacy up here...i swear there's one on every block) to grab a new umbrella. then i came back to the hotel to crash.
we went to dinner in the upper east side at this great french steakhouse. best steak and pomme frite in the city apparently. i definitely enjoyed it. we went to dessert at serendipity, where the characters in the movie "serendipity" went on their first pseudo-date. apparently...i vaguely remember that part. anyway, a frozen hot chocolate later and i'm too tired to go to sleep.
here are a few memorable points in the day/things i learned:
-i got asked for directions. THREE times. my khaki trench, black umbrella, and unflinching stare must be giving off the right signal. people actually think i'm from this town!
-all you have to do is ask. you can usually get what you want. my dreams came true today just because i asked for something that someone wasn't offering offhand.
-i could probably live in new york city. as long as i could live in the morningside heights area and not chelsea or soho or any of the more congested areas.
-i really like the rain. it's true.
-this girl at the table next to us at dinner didn't know it, but she told us her whole love life situation...there's rob and bill and john and jason and zach (he's the bipolar one) and tim, but he cheated on her, and..... geeeeeez girl. stop.
-the cathedral of st john the divine is a house of prayer for all people. which means that, while they are part of the episcopal church, they welcome people of all faiths to worship with them. i really like this.
-i'm so good at navigating in big cities. it's my jam. almost as much as public transit is my jam. which is almost as much as "empire state of mind" is my jam.
from there, we headed toward soho to hit up american apparel and rice to riches. after that, we went our separate ways...me to morningside heights to go to the cathedral and the others to yankee stadium for a tour. i had a fair amount of time on the subway by myself and i just got to think a lot about how i'd like to know these peoples' stories. one beautiful young african-american woman reading "their eyes were watching god." the old (or maybe just aged?) man muttering to himself under his breath. the latino girl all dressed up with nowhere to go. where did they come from? where are they going? i wish i knew. (madeleine herself summed it up best here.)
when i got to the cathedral grounds, i hadn't eaten yet, but was far too excited, so i went right in. i went to the visitors' desk and asked for barbara, and, expecting an older woman, was surprised to see a girl not much older than myself say "i'm barbara. are you jordan?" so we went immediately to the library. it. was. amazing. words just won't work to describe how it felt to be in the room where she sat for so long. it was much smaller than i expected, but had much better books, including first editions of many of madeleine's books. one whole shelf was dedicated to her things. "that was her desk," said barbara, motioning to the far corner at the smallest desk in the room, "look at the view from there." i sheepishly apologized for my nerdiness before snapping a few photos. and then, i walked around to her desk and touched it. with my hand. my hand to where madeleine l'engle's hand inevitably sat. i touched her space. i touched genius today. barbara apologized for the terrible weather and showed me the peacocks' cages before we went back to the cathedral.
then i went back in for the cathedral highlights tour and the vertical tour. both very interesting. i'm really glad i went. then i headed back to the subway station. on the way, i stopped for a few pictures across the street when a gust of wind blew my umbrella inside out and one of the metal arms broke. so before getting on the train, i went to a duane reed (the pharmacy up here...i swear there's one on every block) to grab a new umbrella. then i came back to the hotel to crash.
we went to dinner in the upper east side at this great french steakhouse. best steak and pomme frite in the city apparently. i definitely enjoyed it. we went to dessert at serendipity, where the characters in the movie "serendipity" went on their first pseudo-date. apparently...i vaguely remember that part. anyway, a frozen hot chocolate later and i'm too tired to go to sleep.
here are a few memorable points in the day/things i learned:
-i got asked for directions. THREE times. my khaki trench, black umbrella, and unflinching stare must be giving off the right signal. people actually think i'm from this town!
-all you have to do is ask. you can usually get what you want. my dreams came true today just because i asked for something that someone wasn't offering offhand.
-i could probably live in new york city. as long as i could live in the morningside heights area and not chelsea or soho or any of the more congested areas.
-i really like the rain. it's true.
-this girl at the table next to us at dinner didn't know it, but she told us her whole love life situation...there's rob and bill and john and jason and zach (he's the bipolar one) and tim, but he cheated on her, and..... geeeeeez girl. stop.
-the cathedral of st john the divine is a house of prayer for all people. which means that, while they are part of the episcopal church, they welcome people of all faiths to worship with them. i really like this.
-i'm so good at navigating in big cities. it's my jam. almost as much as public transit is my jam. which is almost as much as "empire state of mind" is my jam.
the true story of chinatown
after much confusion involving an "investigation" on the subway, we grabbed a cab to chinatown. when we got there, we headed to the nearest corner and waited to see what was offered us. the first seller was a man offering us gucci and chanel. we asked him if he had coach, but he didn't. so it was on to the next street corner.
the next salesperson we found was a woman. when asked if she had coach, she forcefully assured us that she did, saying that her sister had stolen some just the day before. this was our woman. she talked for about forty seconds on her phone in chinese before giving us a nod over her shoulder, meaning "follow me." we followed her for about a block before she stopped and stood far enough away from us not to be noticeable while she talked to her partner in chinese for a few more seconds. she led us around the corner and said, under her breath, "follow that woman," gesturing toward another chinese woman on the next corner.
we followed this woman about a half block before she stopped, put her finger to her mouth, and told us to "shhh." she turned to her left and opened a door with a key. (at least the door was made of glass...right?) she opened another glass door into a long badly-lit hallway. at the end of this was yet another glass door into a courtyard of sorts. she told us to wait for her while she locked the door behind her. from the courtyard, we went down a metal staircase where she unlocked yet another door and led us into a room full of cardboard boxes and chinese newspapers stacked up waist-high. we followed her into a room off this one, which is when each of our jaws dropped to the floor. HUNDREDS of designer handbags.
usually this isn't my scene, but i found the absolute most perfect bag in the world. with a shoulder strap. after making our purchases, we were told never to speak of this again. oops.
this was, by far, the sketchiest thing i've ever done.
the next salesperson we found was a woman. when asked if she had coach, she forcefully assured us that she did, saying that her sister had stolen some just the day before. this was our woman. she talked for about forty seconds on her phone in chinese before giving us a nod over her shoulder, meaning "follow me." we followed her for about a block before she stopped and stood far enough away from us not to be noticeable while she talked to her partner in chinese for a few more seconds. she led us around the corner and said, under her breath, "follow that woman," gesturing toward another chinese woman on the next corner.
we followed this woman about a half block before she stopped, put her finger to her mouth, and told us to "shhh." she turned to her left and opened a door with a key. (at least the door was made of glass...right?) she opened another glass door into a long badly-lit hallway. at the end of this was yet another glass door into a courtyard of sorts. she told us to wait for her while she locked the door behind her. from the courtyard, we went down a metal staircase where she unlocked yet another door and led us into a room full of cardboard boxes and chinese newspapers stacked up waist-high. we followed her into a room off this one, which is when each of our jaws dropped to the floor. HUNDREDS of designer handbags.
usually this isn't my scene, but i found the absolute most perfect bag in the world. with a shoulder strap. after making our purchases, we were told never to speak of this again. oops.
this was, by far, the sketchiest thing i've ever done.
Friday, March 12, 2010
richmond to new york
we drove for a looooong time this morning. and got stuck in traffic in dc for a looooooong time. but we got to see some really cool stuff on the way. we saw the high school that jerai grant went to, passed right through the maryland campus, and drove through some really cool towns. we got to our hotel around three thirty this afternoon after a really stressful time of driving through new york city.
we started off in chinatown, on account of we wanted to be there in the light. good choice, girls. we were off in search of illicit stolen/counterfeit goods. whelp. we found them. a few asian women, two sketch alleys, two basement hideaways, and seven purses later, we got out of there. sheesh. (mom and dad, we were reallllly cautious and safe.) absolutely the most sketchy operation i have ever been a part of.
then we got a cab to times square. we checked out all the important things and then used chan's new phone's app called urban spoon to find us a LEGIT sushi spot only two blocks off the square. maybe the best dragon roll i've ever had.
after dinner, we set off toward the empire state building. a few stops (H&M...be still my beating heart) later, we got there and it was really breathtaking. got some great photos. (actually, i don't know if they're great yet because they're FILM. i can't wait to take them to walmart.) the whole time up there i was reminded of the scene from "extremely loud & incredibly close" when they're talking to the woman at the top of the building. love that book.
then we went to starbucks and then walked back to the hotel. and now we're going to sleep. tomorrow i'm going to the cathedral and i'm freaking excited.
(the only pictures i'll be posting throughout the week are on twitpic... http://twitpic.com/photos/jtread )
we started off in chinatown, on account of we wanted to be there in the light. good choice, girls. we were off in search of illicit stolen/counterfeit goods. whelp. we found them. a few asian women, two sketch alleys, two basement hideaways, and seven purses later, we got out of there. sheesh. (mom and dad, we were reallllly cautious and safe.) absolutely the most sketchy operation i have ever been a part of.
then we got a cab to times square. we checked out all the important things and then used chan's new phone's app called urban spoon to find us a LEGIT sushi spot only two blocks off the square. maybe the best dragon roll i've ever had.
after dinner, we set off toward the empire state building. a few stops (H&M...be still my beating heart) later, we got there and it was really breathtaking. got some great photos. (actually, i don't know if they're great yet because they're FILM. i can't wait to take them to walmart.) the whole time up there i was reminded of the scene from "extremely loud & incredibly close" when they're talking to the woman at the top of the building. love that book.
then we went to starbucks and then walked back to the hotel. and now we're going to sleep. tomorrow i'm going to the cathedral and i'm freaking excited.
(the only pictures i'll be posting throughout the week are on twitpic... http://twitpic.com/photos/jtread )
Thursday, March 11, 2010
i just have a few things to say:
1. i am a kid on christmas. i woke up at six for no reason other than that i was excited to gooooooo.
2. jenn agee is the best friend EVER. seriously. everyone should befriend this girl. she has the best taste in music and she loves to share!
3. i have the best roommates in the world. who dye my hair at ten pm. blue. (don't worry mom and dad...you can't really tell...)
4. I AM GOING TO BE IN THE PLACE MADELEINE L'ENGLE DID MOST OF HER LATER WRITING. if i come out of that library uninspired, i'm going to be pissed. but i don't think that's going to happen. some of her genius has to rub off on me.
5. four cameras. FOUR.
6. eight rolls of film.
7. my ankle hurts like a g. if someone wants to pray for healing and strength in the ligaments that would just be amazing.
8. TWO HOURS. richmond tonight, new york until monday, boston until thursday, philly until friday.
2. jenn agee is the best friend EVER. seriously. everyone should befriend this girl. she has the best taste in music and she loves to share!
3. i have the best roommates in the world. who dye my hair at ten pm. blue. (don't worry mom and dad...you can't really tell...)
4. I AM GOING TO BE IN THE PLACE MADELEINE L'ENGLE DID MOST OF HER LATER WRITING. if i come out of that library uninspired, i'm going to be pissed. but i don't think that's going to happen. some of her genius has to rub off on me.
5. four cameras. FOUR.
6. eight rolls of film.
7. my ankle hurts like a g. if someone wants to pray for healing and strength in the ligaments that would just be amazing.
8. TWO HOURS. richmond tonight, new york until monday, boston until thursday, philly until friday.
Wednesday, March 10, 2010
birthday schmirthday
i think this is the first birthday that i've been kind of tentative about. twenty two years is a long time. i'm really old. i don't think i like it.
Tuesday, March 9, 2010
our slam (smash) poetry reading last night in honor of fran
(read it like you might read rap lyrics if you were really white)
claire: happy birthday to the fran
ben: hah ha ha ha, yeah, uh-huh
jenny: fran is a picky eater
ming: she's a great trick-or-treater
anne: kathleen is a babe and she eats a lot of doughnuts
josh: when she holds my hand, it makes me go conuts
michael: when she walks around town, everyone goes crazy
wesley: my eyes are gettin' hazy
kathleen: thanks for all the smash poetry lines
marie: kathleen is full of good times
jordan: brandon is our hero of the night
larkin: what am i supposed to do with this, eat it? yeah, right.
claire: happy birthday to the fran
ben: hah ha ha ha, yeah, uh-huh
jenny: fran is a picky eater
ming: she's a great trick-or-treater
anne: kathleen is a babe and she eats a lot of doughnuts
josh: when she holds my hand, it makes me go conuts
michael: when she walks around town, everyone goes crazy
wesley: my eyes are gettin' hazy
kathleen: thanks for all the smash poetry lines
marie: kathleen is full of good times
jordan: brandon is our hero of the night
larkin: what am i supposed to do with this, eat it? yeah, right.
i just googled myself. funniest thing i've done in a long time. apparently i was quite a well-connected kid, because there are like a million quotes of me talking about jesus in a cheesy and unrealistic way from the island packet. and the article where i was an academic all-american. holla. and the time jenn, laura, jess, and i swept three awards at the film fest in high school.
Sunday, March 7, 2010
i have a huge crush...
...on a car. every time i look in the parking lot, i only want to drive it. i even tried befriending its owner just to get a ride. i'm pretty sure he thinks i have a crush on him though. oops.
art and depression
there exists a belief that creativity and depression are linked. many studies have been done and it has been decided by psychologists that depression fuels creativity. just look at van gogh, david foster wallace, amy tan, monet, truman capote, audrey hepburn, and countless others. the facts seem to build up. right?
i'll be the first to admit that there's a link. but i think the link is opposite of what has been suggested. i'd suggest that artistic talent fuels depression. madeleine l'engle has a lot of good things to say about art and artists, especially in "walking on water," but a piece of dialog from one of her novels moved me the most deeply. i can't find where i wrote it in my journal, and since ray hobbs has been borrowing this book since the end of summer, i can't look it up...but it said something to the effect of "you feel things too deeply not to have to get them out in some form of art." and of course, it was more graceful and eloquent than that, because she's madeleine, and i'm jordan.
but i agree with her. i think that not creating, or not being able to recreate what you see in your head, or any other type of "block" is what leads to the mental disability that is so frequently associated with artists.
just something that's been plaguing me lately.
sidenote: i get to see paintings by van gogh, monet, pisarro, picasso, gaugan, cezanne, and degas IN PERSON one week from today. these guys are my heroes. this is better than anything else in the world.
i'll be the first to admit that there's a link. but i think the link is opposite of what has been suggested. i'd suggest that artistic talent fuels depression. madeleine l'engle has a lot of good things to say about art and artists, especially in "walking on water," but a piece of dialog from one of her novels moved me the most deeply. i can't find where i wrote it in my journal, and since ray hobbs has been borrowing this book since the end of summer, i can't look it up...but it said something to the effect of "you feel things too deeply not to have to get them out in some form of art." and of course, it was more graceful and eloquent than that, because she's madeleine, and i'm jordan.
but i agree with her. i think that not creating, or not being able to recreate what you see in your head, or any other type of "block" is what leads to the mental disability that is so frequently associated with artists.
just something that's been plaguing me lately.
sidenote: i get to see paintings by van gogh, monet, pisarro, picasso, gaugan, cezanne, and degas IN PERSON one week from today. these guys are my heroes. this is better than anything else in the world.
Saturday, March 6, 2010
i only wish i could forget
standing in the sun smoking quiet cigarettes, just before i let you down.
punctuation saves lives...and reputations
think about the following scenario:
i get a call from a friend. i am unable to answer. the following takes place over text message:
me: hey, did you need something?
friend: you in your apartment
i think what he meant was "are you in your apartment?" i laughed for about twenty minutes over this one.
i get a call from a friend. i am unable to answer. the following takes place over text message:
me: hey, did you need something?
friend: you in your apartment
i think what he meant was "are you in your apartment?" i laughed for about twenty minutes over this one.
Thursday, March 4, 2010
yes, yes, i know.
i know, i realize that this is the third time i've blogged tonight. but it's bothering me. so i'm sending it into cyberspace... (side note: why do i blog? i'm not exactly sure. who even reads this? jenn? are you there? the occasional laura? anyone else? i'm just not sure.)
anyways...this is what's bothering me: fca. why do people go? to socialize? i know that's not right. to worship? that would be a good reason, but me parece que ningun really does that, in a legit way.
i'm just so sick of fake. i'm so sick of not feeling like praying, listening, singing, and doing it anyway. i'm sick of other people doing the same. this is not what i signed up for. this is death.
i said yes to life. freedom. happiness. (the real happiness, like joy, not the fake, worldly happiness.) light.
fake = dark. fake = unreal. i'm all about real, especially when the real is better than the fake. and even when it's not.
does any of this make sense? can You hear me? is it time to be real yet?
anyways...this is what's bothering me: fca. why do people go? to socialize? i know that's not right. to worship? that would be a good reason, but me parece que ningun really does that, in a legit way.
i'm just so sick of fake. i'm so sick of not feeling like praying, listening, singing, and doing it anyway. i'm sick of other people doing the same. this is not what i signed up for. this is death.
i said yes to life. freedom. happiness. (the real happiness, like joy, not the fake, worldly happiness.) light.
fake = dark. fake = unreal. i'm all about real, especially when the real is better than the fake. and even when it's not.
does any of this make sense? can You hear me? is it time to be real yet?
dear world:
dear world:
if it ever happens that you have a hard week, allergies, and a big exam and it's thursday afternoon, please DON'T do the following:
take benadryl (hey, it'll clear my allergies up before my test!...right?)
drink 2 servings (1 can) of full throttle (awww man that benadryl put me to sleep, gotta get through this test!)
then proceed to drink a glass of wine with dinner, despite your roommate's warnings against it (it's been a rough week...and i'm okay!)
yikes. and now i have to go to fca. wasted. well...sort of. but it's not my fault! could get interesting.
love,
jordan
if it ever happens that you have a hard week, allergies, and a big exam and it's thursday afternoon, please DON'T do the following:
take benadryl (hey, it'll clear my allergies up before my test!...right?)
drink 2 servings (1 can) of full throttle (awww man that benadryl put me to sleep, gotta get through this test!)
then proceed to drink a glass of wine with dinner, despite your roommate's warnings against it (it's been a rough week...and i'm okay!)
yikes. and now i have to go to fca. wasted. well...sort of. but it's not my fault! could get interesting.
love,
jordan
this has absolutely nothing to do with anything...
...other than that i just remembered it yesterday and thought i'd share.
sophomore year in high school....hilton head high, spanish three honors. i could list every person in that class, but no one except jenn and laura would know them, and it suffices to say that it was the most diverse group of people you've ever met, from the class clown to the football star, to the mexican gang member, to the valedictorian, to the....you get the picture.
it was the best class i ever had in high school. not only did i learn a ton and gain a superlove for the spanish language, i laughed my head off ninety-nine percent of the time. (i'm trying this new thing where i write numbers out in letter form...let me know what you think.)
anyways, yesterday as i was studying for my project management exam, a boy who happened to have been in that spanish three honors class and who is now in said project management class sat down and started to study with me in the lounge on the first floor of sirrine.
it reminded me of the class. which reminded me that at one point, for some reason, mattie stokes, laura westby, and i made a papier mache octopus. it had a name, i'm sure of it, although i can't remember what it was at this point. it also reminded me of the time we had to play pictionary using only spanish words and our drawing skills, during which time da-veeed (in classic spanish pronunciation) was trying to say butcher and ended up repeating "CARNE ROJO, CARNE ROJO!" over and over and over again until everyone was cracking up. it reminded me most, however, of the time (times, semester-long time) that i convinced the girl named ashley that i was a member of the religion of "youthanism" which necessitated marriage before age 16, and that we were getting married on july 4 because it was symbolic of freedom from the reign of our parents. she asked me where i was registered and asked what i wanted as a present.
again, this has absolutely nothing to do with anything, except each of these stories put me into absolute stitches.
sophomore year in high school....hilton head high, spanish three honors. i could list every person in that class, but no one except jenn and laura would know them, and it suffices to say that it was the most diverse group of people you've ever met, from the class clown to the football star, to the mexican gang member, to the valedictorian, to the....you get the picture.
it was the best class i ever had in high school. not only did i learn a ton and gain a superlove for the spanish language, i laughed my head off ninety-nine percent of the time. (i'm trying this new thing where i write numbers out in letter form...let me know what you think.)
anyways, yesterday as i was studying for my project management exam, a boy who happened to have been in that spanish three honors class and who is now in said project management class sat down and started to study with me in the lounge on the first floor of sirrine.
it reminded me of the class. which reminded me that at one point, for some reason, mattie stokes, laura westby, and i made a papier mache octopus. it had a name, i'm sure of it, although i can't remember what it was at this point. it also reminded me of the time we had to play pictionary using only spanish words and our drawing skills, during which time da-veeed (in classic spanish pronunciation) was trying to say butcher and ended up repeating "CARNE ROJO, CARNE ROJO!" over and over and over again until everyone was cracking up. it reminded me most, however, of the time (times, semester-long time) that i convinced the girl named ashley that i was a member of the religion of "youthanism" which necessitated marriage before age 16, and that we were getting married on july 4 because it was symbolic of freedom from the reign of our parents. she asked me where i was registered and asked what i wanted as a present.
again, this has absolutely nothing to do with anything, except each of these stories put me into absolute stitches.
Wednesday, March 3, 2010
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