i like to move it move it
move it to boston, that is. i applied for some jobs in the city. hopefully i'll hear back soon...that way things can get rolling and i'll be *
this* *
much* closer to getting the whole grad school/life plan thing started.
damn ye, o icy grip of anxiety! get thee hence from within mine spirit!
my life be like mmmmmmmm
mmmmmmmmmm good. thank heaven for twizlers, dark chocolate and peanuts. they have sustained me these past two days.
also, feta cheese. can't go wrong with feta.
"it's a little bit funny, this feeling inside...
...i'm not one of those who can easily hide."
(ah, moulin rouge. i have such a love/hate relationship with you. You sneak up on me when i least expect it and creep in at the most unwelcome of times.)
i read about myself the other day. well, actually, it was someone else's interpretation of particular events of my life recorded in their blog. what an odd experience...still not sure how to process it.
my face got hot and prickly when i read it. it recounted bits of my most painful and personal experiences...and then drew life lessons from it; namely, lessons on the ramifications of making a decision without considering who your choices will affect. Some heavy assumptions were made: It was suggested that 1. i ended a relationship because i wished to rekindle an old flame. 2. that i impulsively did this to satisfy my own desires, and that 3. this was a big mistake and hurt people because i didn't stop to consider the impact of my choices.
granted, this friend of mine who wrote about my life had the best of intentions and i am certain that he meant no harm...he was just "thinking out loud" in a manner of speaking. nevertheless, i just felt
bad. interestingly enough, he must have simply drawn his own conclusions from scraps of incomplete facts. it contained partial truth: i
did end a relationship just shy of two years ago--but for some pretty serious reasons. I
was later in another relationship which ended for tragic reasons which could not have been foreseen. either way--this friend of mine never asked me about it. i haven't even heard from him in quite a while. a lot has changed over the past year...he must have found out a few bare-bones details. unfortunately, it was second-hand, second-rate information. and it was so unexpected, so...
surprising.
I think my feelings got hurt.
I mean, should i take the time to explain the hospital trips, frightening phone conversations and incredible emotional isolation of last summer? I am desperately grateful for the friendships i have and for the people who supported me and affirmed things about my character throughout the whole ordeal. It took me a while to spiritually and emotionally recover. anyway--it's been exactly one year this week. it was quite some time before i was over my paranoia that people thought terrible and untrue things about my life.
It probably shouldn't bother me so much. i know that the people who really know me, really know the situation. but it's pretty uncomfortable and exhausting to feel like you can never get away from certain past experiences and to know that portions of your personal life are floating about in cyberspace. i guess i hoped it was old news. well. it sucks to be misrepresented...especially in matters of the heart.
and it got me thinking about how i misrepresent god. i wonder what impressions i give. and i wonder if jesus thinks
, um. that's not how it was; that's not who i am...
i suppose second-hand information about god gets tricky if you don't verify it. there's too much margin of error--gotta go back to the source. How can i know what is true? who do i seek for answers? who do i call upon for help? who is my shield and defender?
and how can i know him more?
so about this funny feeling inside...the feeling of helplessness, of old wounds revisited...
Let me hide myself in the shadow of Your wings.
O Lord, my rock.
"I see now that what begins as a dream can end in a nightmare"
Oi! so much for communication. my friend just told me via comment on my last post that he is teaching composition. i was confused for a moment...then i realized he was talking about REAL composition. I, however, was referring to my desire to get a master's degree in MUSICal composition. which is equally real. the fault of this grave misunderstanding lies entirely with me. i spent most of the post talking about how i like to invent my own words--of
course it would seem like i wanted to study the composition of the written word. alas, it is not so.
all i can say is that i hope people like my music.
ps the title of this post is a direct quote from the early '80's movie version of the scarlet pimpernel starring jane seymour. yes. the jane from dr. quin medicine woman, that historically accurate and uncannily honest TV mini-series representation of the Western Frontier: the place where clothing was surprisingly clean, women were treated as equal, and people of all nationalities were welcomed with open arms, tolerance, and understanding. we all know that's how it really was in the old west.
I have a *plan*.
tentatively, that is. bear in mind that I'm marginally depressed and
in the midst of life-plan-formage.
here's the scoop: I want to go to grad school for composition. you may be asking yourself why it has taken me several years to "come up with" this *bright idea*. Fear of the unknown, folks...fear of the unknown. A masters in special ed just sounds so...so
practical. i say, "fie on practicality! bring on the overwhelm-th!"
I notice that I've felt rather
pluggy lately.
pluggy and
blorpish. traditional vocabulary is not striking a chord in me today, so please pardon this shameless splidmackering of the English language. A friend of mine (namely J. Zook) recently coined the word
obstretched to describe being spread thin like too little jam on the bread of life. "bread" as in
bread is to life as
jam is to
julie.
anyway, i thought the word was great. As you most likely know, shakespeare got away with inventing words all the time. it's quite liberating in a way...
i am exhausted. goodnight.
Congratulations, Ms. Jackson! (I am for real...)
My sister Bridget and Nate got engaged last week...
btw, Nate's last name is Jackson. just as a clarification for those of you confused by this blog title.
EEEeew
...been a rough day. my eyes hurt. but my belly is now full of fried clams and trader joe's chocolate. delicious. delicious, yes, but also strange. i suppose it might be a "rough night" (if you catch my meaning...) wink wink.
new artist
i just discovered a musician i like, no, love.
Elijah Wyman. check him out.
move it to boston, that is. i applied for some jobs in the city. hopefully i'll hear back soon...that way things can get rolling and i'll be *this* *much* closer to getting the whole grad school/life plan thing started.
