break the mirror

tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30148802011-12-17T04:45:35.234-08:00break the mirrorwhen i celebrate sleep, my dreams are beautiful. but i take them for real. i found i can't kill things. i'm destined to be a poor poet but i'm welcomed back to maine to build things. i think what i want's under my feet and i won't look yet in case i wreck it. i wreck lots of things, usually for the best. jesss_m@hotmail.comJulianoreply@blogger.comBlogger3771100tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3014880.post-13630812077015862542008-06-07T07:51:00.000-07:002008-12-11T09:38:49.374-08:00

Max is here!!actually, he got here a week ago. :) giving birth was a pretty cool experience. and more important, we now have a GREAT BABY! all the proper fingers and toes, strong sucking reflex, etc. and look at his lips!! he looks more like a baby human now and less like some kind of gnome-thing.yesterday i awoke to find max had a goopy eye and the cat was limping.this morning i awoke to find

Julianoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3014880.post-70040749271688402912008-05-23T23:14:00.000-07:002008-12-11T09:38:49.489-08:00

Yeah, um, this was taken 3 months ago. At this point my belly is one absurd massive thing. We bought a watermelon tonight and it looked like I was smuggling another under my shirt. It's really freaky. In the image at left, the red mark is a burn mark from a skillet handle, as I'm spatially impaired with this belly and kept burning it for a while. I've mastered the art of keeping it away from

Julianoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3014880.post-25996691848380852632008-01-02T17:53:00.001-08:002008-12-11T09:38:49.751-08:00

Still pregnant! 19 weeks, or just over 4 full calendar months, or nearly halfway, or what have you. I still have some growing to do if that thing's gonna be basketball-sized by May. We went backcountry skiing this weekend, very fun. Very clumsy (no, not b/c of "my condition"--because I'm a klutz-ass on skis and haven't done it in 2 years, and the hard ice crust didn't help with turning and

Julianoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3014880.post-29612417340862642082007-11-25T05:39:00.000-08:002007-11-25T05:54:32.190-08:00

Good golly, what a year. Now I'm pregnant. It's pretty good. I finally have boobs. Real boobs. Cleavage, too. My husband is pretty psyched about it; he has finally confessed he prefers the squishier, curvier me to the hard-bodied, flat-chested triathlete me. Which is damn handy, as I won't be so buff nor competing again anytime soon. I'm still struggling with soon having to give up the

Julianoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3014880.post-26681541536683193342007-02-17T19:46:00.000-08:002007-02-17T19:54:49.988-08:00

I had sort of a weird week last week. We drove to Maine to visit an inn, a possible site for our wedding (I'm getting MARRIED, of all things). The inn, when we arrived, was ON FIRE. Literally. (We came back an hour later but still no luck, firetrucks everywhere, water flowing everywhere, the fire marshall marching about. ) For some reason everyone told us this was a Sign. Of what? Poor

Julianoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3014880.post-1155325433668526972006-08-11T12:41:00.000-07:002006-08-11T12:43:53.680-07:00

Great, I finally decide to stock up on Lucozade and hair gel and fly to Europe, and look what happens.

Julianoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3014880.post-1143226569939682642006-03-24T10:55:00.000-08:002006-03-24T10:56:09.956-08:00

Two literary thoughts:When o when will Tim O’Brien lose the baseball cap? If Edgar Allen Poe and Emily Dickenson had a child, its writing would be one big gasping string of em-dashes.

Julianoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3014880.post-1139612740704841262006-02-10T14:59:00.000-08:002006-02-10T15:05:40.716-08:00

You think MLK's kids ever wish they could take that January long weekend to just go skiing?Yesterday, in a typical scenario, I spilled my coffee in my car, and somehow, magically, it splashed up and shorted out my stereo. I have no fucking clue how I got this way.I had this crazy dream in which I was in a house in Iraq, full of Iraqi men who were humiliating us--making us carry crosses and

Julianoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3014880.post-1129502791454253542005-10-16T15:29:00.000-07:002005-10-16T15:46:31.463-07:00

I have this bad new problem of hitting people. Well, their cars. With my car. Hitting other cars from behind, to be precise.In June I rear-ended this crochety woman who said she felt fine but might have neck pain and wanted to talk to her lawyer. I'm not kidding. The cop and EMTs were pretty skeptical. Also there was a small dent in the bumper of her SUV.Then last week we were in

Julianoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3014880.post-1113021318514127472005-04-08T21:22:00.000-07:002005-05-07T21:23:26.816-07:00

On More DocumentariesThe "7 UP" series in intriguing: a bunch of British little men and little women explaining themselves. Does that little guy really subscribe to the Financial Times? Does that little girl really have 2 boyfriends? Does the little man w/ the big ears really think he has one girlfriend in Africa and 2 from a hotel in Switzerland?More importantly, is the director manipulating

Julianoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3014880.post-1110517006932277572005-03-10T20:34:00.000-08:002005-03-10T20:56:46.936-08:00

Playing OutsideMy snowshoe racing career didn't pan out quite as I'd hoped, mostly b/c I'm never around on weekends and all the races are at least 3 hrs from here, anyway. My assembled team was an enthusiastic group, however, who thankfully espoused the Lars Hedley training protocols, such as consuming a beer within 4 hours of a workout or race to replace lost glycogen stores, or following every

Julianoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3014880.post-1106627077323590352005-01-24T19:56:00.000-08:002005-01-25T04:59:09.916-08:00

On Addiction I'm exploring the wide world of wacky winter sports, like snowshoe racing. Believe it or not, there is a large and dedicated mass of people who are utterly dedicated to "personal bests" in such an event, which involves strapping snowshoes (usually racing snowshoes, or at least small, lightweight ones) onto your running shoes and then running through the snowy woods and over small

Julianoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3014880.post-1101608152502884822004-11-27T17:59:00.000-08:002004-11-27T18:15:52.503-08:00

"There's just a lot of allegations of vote fraud that place their elections, the validity of their elections, in doubt," Bush said. "The international community is watching very carefully. People are paying very close attention to this, and hopefully it'll be resolved in a way that brings credit and confidence to the Ukrainian government." THIS from a man of whom the validity of BOTH of his

Julianoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3014880.post-1100662555093174732004-11-16T19:15:00.000-08:002004-11-16T19:35:55.093-08:00

Outdoor Fitness Can Kill You So I was supposed to go on an intermediate backpacking trip this weekend. No big deal, except the outdoor club I go with usually rejects me for "lack of experience." I've backpacked on my own, but they always get nervous about it b/c their trip leaders don't know me. Whatever. The leaders for this trip were fine with my experience, especially b/c I've snowshoed.

Julianoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3014880.post-1099019458653400812004-10-28T19:41:00.000-07:002004-10-28T20:10:58.653-07:00

How and Why I MISSED the Red Sox World Series Sweep, by Jesss M. The Sox won the World Series last night, and I missed it. For starters: I don't know why it's called the World Series if the U.S. is the only country that plays in it, but whatever. Last year I watched the playoffs, every game, and was as sad as everyone else. The whole city fell silent that night. This year, of course, we

Julianoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3014880.post-1098787322705277982004-10-26T03:14:00.000-07:002004-10-26T03:42:02.706-07:00

Wow, I have a home computer again. Just in time for pre-election week. Check out the somewhat informative and terrifying red http://electoral-vote.com/ for some information about this shaky and outdated system. I volunteered with a group the other night to find out where voters stood in terms of gay marriage. I was given a list of voters in a primarily Baptist part of town. I called, gave

Julianoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3014880.post-1091414427748309582004-08-01T19:31:00.000-07:002004-08-01T19:40:27.746-07:00

I had a great date with a gay man tonight. Well, OK, I'm only pretty sure. He's an inline speed skater, and the 3 friends I mentioned him to each asked, "Oh, is he gay?" What is it about speed skaters? Are inline speed skaters usually gay? I had never heard of this. So anyway after dinner (which I invited HIM to) and a few hours of conversation, um, I think if I'd met him at a party and

Julianoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3014880.post-1089804977156377822004-07-14T04:33:00.000-07:002004-07-14T04:36:17.156-07:00

Note to self: When on first date with a Park Ranger, do NOT tell about the time I went bird hunting w/o a license. Probably hunting stories in general could wait until the second or third date. Oops!

Julianoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3014880.post-1087647903490112902004-06-19T05:04:00.000-07:002004-06-19T05:25:03.490-07:00

I've taken up whitewater kayaking. Now THAT'S a sport. It's really, really fun in a semi-dangerous sort of way. You have to really focus and concentrate, so it's like meditation or yoga, but then you drink beer as soon as you get out of the river, so it's like fun. Plus, it's known as the "lazy man's sport" because you get to sit all day. It doesn't hurt that kayak instructors (and kayakers

Julianoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3014880.post-1081090504042533792004-04-04T07:48:00.000-07:002004-04-04T07:58:40.763-07:00

When your mom asks you why it's so hard to get you on the phone, "Because I have caller ID" is the WRONG answer. I am sluggish and cranky this week, in a "steady diet of pasta and sour cream" sort of way. Which isn't far from the truth, in fact. No wonder I feel gross. Well, it's April now, and it seems to be "Date Your Ex" month here in sunny Boston. Don't knock it 'til you've tried it.

Julianoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3014880.post-1078713755563686032004-03-07T18:34:00.000-08:002004-03-07T18:47:22.340-08:00

Today I woke up at 5 a.m. in Pennsylvania, where I've been packing up my childhood home for the past few days. Judging from my childhood schoolwork and stories and notes, I was an insipid and dorky child. Then we finished loading the truck and drove through 5 states, dropping off piles of stuff at various family homes along the way. So I am wiped out, and that was only the tip of the iceburg

Julianoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3014880.post-1072670177642079572003-12-28T19:42:00.000-08:002003-12-29T04:36:55.966-08:00

I spent Christmas with my father. We hiked nearly 1200, rough-hewn rock steps of varying heights up this mountain; miners used to have to trek up them to get to work ("Don't forget your lunch pail!"). Then today my mom came to town and we went ice-skating. I haven't done it in 2 years; it's been at least 20 for her. My legs are TIRED. They ache, they need a rest. I thought I was fit! I

Julianoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3014880.post-1071018045920297962003-12-09T16:57:00.000-08:002003-12-09T17:01:49.420-08:00

Today I turned in my thesis and mailed off my 11.5-inch braid (I was growing it to donate it, see, but wouldn't let myself cut/donate it until thesis was done--some kind of superstitious thing, I guess). Now I am wishing very much for some Columbian student helper right now, b/c I'm very tired and I have to finish writing my last paper. My rule was no drugs until thesis was done; now it's not

Julianoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3014880.post-1070948787952596012003-12-08T21:36:00.000-08:002003-12-08T21:49:33.950-08:00

I finally saw "Mystic River." Sure, it's a little contrived and manipulative, but it's pretty well done. I also saw "Stevie." All I want to do these days is watch movies and knit, this final week of grad school, but I have a goddamned lit paper to finish. Soon...soon. My thesis committee was great about my thesis, signed off; I turn it in tomorrow, I think. And I cut off a blessed 12 inches

Julianoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3014880.post-1070603730963251022003-12-04T21:44:00.000-08:002003-12-04T21:56:27.436-08:00

Tonight I met the Talented Mr. Ripley for a drink. I figured his stalking had really fallen off, plus maybe he was starting to seem normal and OK. The man is really not well. He's a total polymath, very intelligent, but still very evasive and has apparently had some spectacular failures. I tried to point out that something he'd told me didn't add up, time-wise, and he snarled at me. He told

Julianoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3014880.post-1070133766621203962003-11-29T11:17:00.000-08:002003-11-29T11:23:36.403-08:00

So I've got someone coming to see the apartment tomorrow and suddenly the place looks like a fucking crack house. See, I was sitting on the couch in my charming, plant- and book-filled living room, minding my own business and trying to write a goddamn lit paper, when suddenly water and bits of ceiling start falling on my head. It seems that the radiator in the upstairs apartment is leaking and

Julianoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3014880.post-1069573547470179872003-11-22T23:42:00.000-08:002003-11-22T23:46:27.513-08:00

I'm practically stopping people on the street asking them if they want to move in. Tonight an unemployed blue-eyeshadowed woman w/ a master's in philosophy came to see the place. She might only need it for a month, depends on the job search. And is it ok if she has friends over a lot, and can we get DSL? Fine, fine, fine. At this point I'd let a deranged incontinent elderly nun move in, if

Julianoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3014880.post-1069217199163890772003-11-18T20:38:00.000-08:002003-11-18T20:47:13.780-08:00

I went to the Boston Public Library today. It's cool, because it had all the books I needed. Only problem: YOU CAN'T CHECK THEM OUT. No, you have to fill out this little anal-retentive request form, then someone fetches the book for you, and you can only read it there. What a pain in the ass!! It's not just grown-up books on modern literary theory and criticism; no, it's all kinds of books,

Julianoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3014880.post-1068792629615751002003-11-13T22:26:00.000-08:002003-11-13T22:50:58.373-08:00

Jesus christ, it seems I've become so Wholesome that my next roommate might be a 17-yr-old whose mom digs me. I'm glad she came to see the place w/ her mom in tow, b/c I was worried about the whole "guardian to a minor" bit, but her mom is very normal and homey and wants a good place for her teenager, and the girl herself seems surprisingly sound and mature and all that. Is this what it's

Julianoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3014880.post-1068676202183361242003-11-12T14:30:00.000-08:002003-11-12T14:30:28.670-08:00

My roommate search isn't going well. The talented Mr. Ripley sends me long crazy emails and is getting unstable and a little sinister. Another guy showed up coked-up (and didn't offer me any--the bastard!!). He'd actually wanted to go out for a beer instead of seeing the apartment, "to see if we're compatible." Not sure exactly how compatible he wanted to be. The pushy Iranian seems to be

Julianoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3014880.post-1068183034502493382003-11-06T21:17:00.000-08:002003-11-06T21:30:53.560-08:00

The other day I was standing in front of my building waiting for a friend to pick me up when some guy came by asking about the management company. I showed him where the info was written on the inside door. He said he saw an apartment here long ago and was looking for a place. He took down the info, went back to his minicooper, came back. I took another look and finally mentioned that I need

Julianoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3014880.post-1067458370237973322003-10-29T12:04:00.000-08:002003-10-29T12:12:58.546-08:00

I have barely been able to walk since last week's run, thanks to the fucking ankle. This backs up my theory that maybe I should generally cut straight to the beer and cigarettes w/o bothering to get sweaty first. An I.P.A. and a pool game never fucked up my ankle like this "outdoor activity" stuff did. My thesis is currently going nowhere b/c I have to read all this stupid literary theory

Julianoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3014880.post-1067138105038666192003-10-25T20:00:00.000-07:002003-10-25T20:15:08.436-07:00

I went w/ my brother and his fiance to our childhood summer cabin. We arrived about 9 PM last night, lit the woodstove and drank wine and huddled about the fire. The place is entirely uninsulated, w/ the woodstove as the only heat. I piled on the blankets and slept for nearly 9 long hours. It was beautiful. We were supposed to stay tonight, too, but were out of firewood. I thought about

Julianoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3014880.post-1066969030129048262003-10-23T21:05:00.000-07:002003-10-23T21:17:10.120-07:00

I ran a surprisingly easy 4 miles tonight, which sure beats my 25-minute recent running struggles. However, about 5 minutes after, instead of the endorphin high, I burst into tears and could not stop. I wrote it off as kind of like the infrequent tears after a really good orgasm, like maybe the endorphins hit the brain at a weird angle or something. I got laid off yesterday. Then my thesis

Julianoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3014880.post-1064977406361845792003-09-30T20:02:00.000-07:002003-09-30T20:03:26.533-07:00

It seems St. Petersburg, Florida, has just passed a law banning public suicides. Ponder that.

Julianoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3014880.post-1064871789763383532003-09-29T14:39:00.001-07:002003-09-29T14:43:09.353-07:00

A real posting on Craigslist (Boston), under the "free" listings. Why, I wonder, is the compost so rich in nutrients? And what happened to the poor children? ------------------------------------------------------- We have free fill to whomever wants to pick it up. You can take what you want.... It is approximately 90% dirt and 10% rock. It is good quality. We also have compost, more than

Julianoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3014880.post-1064375165427530672003-09-23T20:37:00.001-07:002003-09-23T20:46:04.933-07:00

The sleep deprivation's getting to be a real fucking pip, let me tell you. It's bad enough I can take a 2-and-a-half-hour nap midmorning on a Monday. At night I can never fall asleep, no matter how tired, and when I try, the little 8-pound cat settles on my hip or butt or back or chest. Thank god it's not the 14-pounder, but still, it's more cat-weight than I might want on me as I drift off.

Julianoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3014880.post-1064375139323933542003-09-23T20:37:00.000-07:002003-09-23T20:45:38.823-07:00

The sleep deprivation's getting to be a real fucking pip, let me tell you. It's bad enough I can take a 2-and-a-half-hour nap midmorning on a Monday. I can never fall asleep, no matter how tired, and when I try, the little 8-pound cat settles on my hip or butt or back or chest. Thank god it's not the 14-pounder, but still, it's more cat-weight than I might want on me as I drift off. Then if I

Julianoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3014880.post-1064291393620182312003-09-22T21:15:00.000-07:002003-09-22T21:29:53.470-07:00

The thesis thing was coming along right nicely and then ground to kind of a halt. Ack. I am sure I will resume my rigorous schedule any day now. This morning the &*$#%@*& cats were kind enough to wait until 5:30 a.m. to wake me up, instead of the usual 4 or 4:30. I watched the sky lighten for a bit and then decided to go for a run. It went surprisingly well. it turns out that old 10,000

Julianoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3014880.post-1063255405733215352003-09-10T21:33:00.000-07:002003-09-10T21:43:25.736-07:00

Blogger is on crack. I tried to run today. I can't believe I was running 8-minute miles just months ago. It turns out that if you spend an entire summer on crutches/sitting on your ass/smoking and drinking, you lose some fitness. Who knew? I tried to run last week, too, which led to days of sore legs. The Boston Ascroft protest (of his "Civil Liberties Elimination Tour 2003") was great,

Julianoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3014880.post-1062822263089998132003-09-05T21:24:00.000-07:002003-09-05T21:24:23.073-07:00

I think I am making progress; I have got it all figured out, at least, and have a direction in which to write, as well as some sort of writing schedule. I have also queried former construction bosses for their input/technical expertise. However, now that I've got the thesis plotted out, all kinds of other things are hitting me that I want to write about. Like Saul Bellow's Herzog as the

Julianoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3014880.post-1062649151593571622003-09-03T21:19:00.000-07:002003-09-03T21:19:11.586-07:00

Day 1 of my new job Writing My Thesis. I am not sure I can write my thesis w/ the nervous cat on my lap. I suspect she wants to spend the entire semester there. I am also not sure I won’t look at my new schedule as an opportunity to drink a lot of beer. I still have to show up for work daily, granted. My printer died this morning, my first day of sorting out what I’ve got and what I’m

Julianoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3014880.post-1062217363446456002003-08-29T21:22:00.000-07:002003-08-29T21:22:43.440-07:00

Ah, flights. I went to Logan. I got through security w/ 2 lighters, 7 books of matches, and a pen that looks like a ricin bomb. a friend got through security at both Logan and La Guardia w/ a can of pepper spray. That stuff is not even LEGAL in Massachusetts. Our plane was delayed. The PLANE arrived. But the flight crew was stuck in Philly on a crowded runway. The flight crew was stuck

Julianoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3014880.post-1062217144985452362003-08-29T21:19:00.000-07:002003-08-29T21:19:04.986-07:00

ah, flights. i went to logan. our plane was delayed. the plane arrived. but the flight crew was stuck in Philly on a crowded runway. the flight crew was stuck in Philly. the flight crew was going to be airborne w/in 2-3 minutes. the plane the flight crew was on had to return to the gate to refuel. no news. no news. our departure time was pushed from the originally-scheduled 7:30 PM to a

Julianoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3014880.post-1061952196589561142003-08-26T19:43:00.000-07:002003-08-26T19:43:16.490-07:00

Well, my pinkie healed and most of our houseguests have cleared out after I threatened self-defenestration if we kept running a youth hostel. What's to say? Sweet physicist shipped his stuff to Israel Friday and spent the weekend at my house. It was really nice, despite my apprehensive grumpiness of the past week. He is very much like an 8-yr-old, though. He deals w/ supremely directed

Julianoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3014880.post-1059894607446735762003-08-03T00:10:00.000-07:002003-08-03T00:10:07.443-07:00

Today someone rang our bell offering batteries--the batteries she'd taken from our remote controls last night, during the party, to power her video recorder. We wouldn't have noticed the missing batteries. Our TV hasn't worked in years and we never use the remote for the VCR. After our last party, a friend confessed he'd stolen a pair of contact lenses. In the bathroom, he saw them and

Julianoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3014880.post-1059894555178452082003-08-03T00:09:00.000-07:002003-08-03T00:09:15.186-07:00

Today someone rang our bell offering batteries--the batteries she'd taken from our remote controls last night, during the party, to power her video recorder. We wouldn't have noticed the missing batteries. After our last party, a friend confessed he'd stolen a pair of contact lenses. In the bathroom, he saw them and thought it would be cool to put them in. They were my roommate's. He didn't

Julianoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3014880.post-1058755506855722842003-07-20T19:45:00.000-07:002003-07-20T19:45:06.706-07:00

Tonight I cut a chunk of flesh out of my pinkie washing dishes; one of Grandmother's cracked plates gave way under hard scrubbing. The bloody bandage keeps hitting the CAPS key unexpectedly. I hope it stops bleeding before tomorrow. I've already spilled yogurt into my keyboard at work, but I fear blood will be stickier. That David Kelly "suicide" looks a little suspicious, don't you think?

Julianoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3014880.post-1058755445484100962003-07-20T19:44:00.000-07:002003-07-20T19:44:05.340-07:00

Julianoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3014880.post-1058755407287910632003-07-20T19:43:00.000-07:002003-07-20T19:43:27.143-07:00

Julianoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3014880.post-1058589423066955402003-07-18T21:37:00.000-07:002003-07-18T21:37:03.033-07:00

Raul is dead. I got a voicemail one Thursday (in Portuguese) from a blocked ID, mentioning (as far as I could tell) questions, complications, please call me, FBI. A friend translated: something about: the hotel operation, give the FBI guys money, i don't want complications, etc. Exactly one week and 2 minutes later, the next Thursday, another voicemail, in Portuguese, same voice: this time

Julianoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3014880.post-1058412374681602212003-07-16T20:26:00.000-07:002003-07-16T20:26:14.616-07:00

A friend of mine is getting "naturalized" tomorrow. As in, she becomes a dual Australia-US citizen. I gave her an American flag pinwheel, which I felt like an ass carrying down the street. She grew up here; her application got frozen for 2 years b/c the guy who gave her her history quiz 1) made disparaging comments about those seeking citizenship when she asked him (on the street) directions

Julianoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3014880.post-1058412336669054962003-07-16T20:25:00.000-07:002003-07-16T20:25:36.610-07:00

Julianoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3014880.post-1057992517231397822003-07-11T23:48:00.000-07:002003-07-11T23:48:37.093-07:00

Guns. Guns. I read Pete's blog (http://acidlogic.com/weblogs/petemoss.htm) and, in fact, I own a gun. When I lived in Maine, my philosophical navel-gazing bearded boyfriend had a lot of guns. I hated pulling trigger for the clays (boring), but I loved shooting at targets, and I go up to Maine every October for partridge season. I have a hunting license. A Waters .357 has a fearsome recoil.

Julianoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3014880.post-1057990748926061892003-07-11T23:19:00.000-07:002003-07-13T19:35:09.183-07:00

Why do chicks dig Jesus? *stretch out arms and hang head to imitate crucifixion* Because he's hung like THIS! Ok, sorry. So tonight I hung out with that friend, let's call him Bob. The guy I hang out w/ a lot who seems to have no idea I like him. I'm not even sure he likes women, at this point, but yet we don't speak much of his or my dating desires. I have none right now, except to kiss

Julianoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3014880.post-1057712554461317282003-07-08T18:02:00.000-07:002003-07-08T18:02:34.326-07:00

I hate the new blogger layout. And it's far too fucking hot to be online. My friend's friend still doesn't realize I like him, though we hang out all the time, and the physicist is just getting bizarre in the heat. We had warm fuzzies followed by a viper bite (from him) re: a book I liked, he hated. Then I made some comment about orgasms and it seemed to clear everything up. Fucking weirdo.

Julianoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3014880.post-958498952003-06-19T20:35:00.000-07:002003-06-19T20:35:21.290-07:00

Last week I started writing an essay on the 20-yr trend cycle, about hearing Bon Jovi on the radio and why the fuck is Great White even touring, let alone killing lots of people in fires in Rhode Island, but now I can't find it on my hard drive!! So tonight I wrote a poem about how even though my mom is this new happy person, soon to be tattooed, and my dad's happy, I'm sad that my childhood

Julianoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3014880.post-957373142003-06-16T18:58:00.000-07:002003-06-16T18:58:19.303-07:00

I had an absolutely marvelous weekend of quality time with friends. It's funny how things come around, how you get to a point where you realize none of the drama matters. The most unlikely connections hold, all over the place. The sweet physicist sent me a downright mean-spirited email today. I knew he was kind of unfeeling, but mean? I have no room for that. So now I'm listening to Give,

Julianoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3014880.post-955749082003-06-11T20:16:00.000-07:002003-06-11T20:20:30.000-07:00

(*^(*&^#^*#^$# ankle. This whole crutches thing is wearing thin. It's 2-4 more weeks, the orthopedist says. Thank god for my car, but I'm seriously at the point where I wait for the first elevator rather than moving 10 feet to the one whose doors are open. My "good" leg, the one taking all my weight, the one with the bad knee...the knee blew out today, when I thought that hopping across the

Julianoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3014880.post-953990702003-06-06T22:41:00.000-07:002003-06-06T22:41:34.190-07:00

My roommate's sister, who's moved from our dining room into our big hall closet, is on a jello-making kick. The fridge is full of bowls full of red stuff w/ chunks (pineapple??) in it. I like jello well enough. And I'm glad she's moved into the closet. The past few days I've been COMMUTING. I was tending a friend who just had surgery; at rush hour she lives an hour away, other times 40

Julianoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3014880.post-951072382003-05-30T20:27:00.000-07:002003-05-30T20:27:45.783-07:00

My days in the sunny canyon seem a dream. I'm on crutches, my roommate has started some kind of home-based catering gig (i.e., our kitchen is a permanent wreck of our biggest pots), her sister is living in our dining room for the summer. My sister-in-law gave birth yesterday, our father turns 70 tomorrow, and my boss gave me a huge project to do my first day back. I guess I am mostly intact,

Julianoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3014880.post-950224692003-05-28T21:42:00.000-07:002003-05-28T21:42:09.826-07:00

Yeah, so, back to wind and rain and sirens and weirdos. Hello Boston, I'm home. My roommate's sister has moved into our dining room for the summer and one of the cats trashed my room while I was gone, but otherwise all is good. The camping trip was great. I have various layers of sunburn and a twisted ankle, but my butt muscles have finally recovered from the hiking. And I met Pete. He was

Julianoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3014880.post-947191942003-05-21T20:42:00.000-07:002003-05-21T20:42:56.720-07:00

hey, all you fans inundating me w/ email, if you could hold off for a week til I get back on-grid, that would be great. thanks for all your support. though i may not return to the east coast, but fuck it, i can check email at the library as i couch-surf. why return to this?

Julianoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3014880.post-947190242003-05-21T20:39:00.000-07:002003-05-21T20:39:05.953-07:00

Things have all gone to shit w/ my sweet physicist; he can't be in this whole-heartedly, b/c he's going away. That sucks. More contemplative stuff on that at a later date. Meanwhile, I spontaneously met an ex-boyfriend last night for drinks, the guy I may have referred to as my gay Orthodox Jewish ex-boyfriend, though he's neither gay nor Orthodox, though he was raised that way. Sometime

Julianoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3014880.post-944848392003-05-16T21:19:00.000-07:002003-05-16T21:19:00.016-07:00

Pete is kinda giving me the willies; we are supposed to meet when I'm out in California next week, but I'm thinking he might not be compatible w/ my friends' 15-or-so extended family members. Would YOU meet Pete in a remote place? Tonight I went to a sex toys party, where a woman from a local sex-toys shop demonstrated products. Think of a Tupperware party, but way different: gloves, cock

Julianoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3014880.post-943072582003-05-13T20:50:00.000-07:002003-05-14T06:50:56.000-07:00

You know, I no longer have the time, energy, or schedule for it, but fuck...if someone were to offer me a fat line of something sweetly Colombian one of these days (when I didn't have a baby shower, Mother's Day, new niece/nephew, someone's b'day the next day) I just might well accept. This whole asleep-by-midnight up-at-7 thing is really cool and all, and I can probably still run 8-minute miles

Julianoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3014880.post-943042702003-05-13T19:54:00.000-07:002003-05-14T06:48:38.000-07:00

The man at work who kept flirting with me finally got fired. Actually, his job got eliminated. I was grateful. But he came back for the next few days, kind of like The Man Who Came To Dinner, kind of like our project which was supposed to end last week but which is still killing us. I wish it would end already. We expect to leave at 6 and have to stay until midnight. We are prepared to stay

Julianoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3014880.post-929219832003-04-19T23:14:00.000-07:002003-04-19T23:14:35.733-07:00

I am listening to a total cock-rock station--makes fun of tampons, Monica Lewinski (in lewd terms), the "guys" playing in their River Rave (hey, dicks, you've lined up a number of women-fronted or all-women bands--did you forget?)....I finished one paper, the big one I couldn't let go of; I have one to go, and some small work...I don't know how to be done. If I finish this next big one, it means

Julianoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3014880.post-927759502003-04-17T06:30:00.000-07:002003-04-17T06:30:46.793-07:00

Phrase of the day (heard on BBC World News): "comprehensively looted" As in, much of Baghdad has been comprehensively looted. (What the fuck, even the BBC guy seemed to say, are are Iraq's poorest citizens going to do with stolen tires and lamps?) Or--better yet--if the Bush Administration has its way, the entire Middle East will be comprehensively looted, their regimes toppled and replaced

Julianoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3014880.post-925587662003-04-13T20:08:00.000-07:002003-04-13T20:08:57.513-07:00

"What does lack of dignity look like? THIS is what lack of dignity looks like!" Yeah. Today I had to suck it up. There are 2 tiny washers and 2 tiny dryers in the basement of my building, but if you don't do laundry for a month, they are useless on a Sunday. That's right, people, that was me at the laundromat, sockless in pajamas at 5 PM casually reading Umberto Eco--who is scathingly

Julianoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3014880.post-920505592003-04-05T10:47:00.000-08:002003-04-05T10:47:05.280-08:00

In my dream last night, I had to make a birthday cake for Mitt Romney, the governor of Massachusetts. You know, the creepy-looking Mormon guy with the thick hair? For some reason also my family and I were refugees, so I had nothing with which to make a cake. I managed to whip up something, baking the batter in whatever I could find: a cardboard box, an old bundt pan. I knew I couldn't

Julianoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3014880.post-917721642003-04-01T05:48:00.000-08:002003-04-01T05:48:50.513-08:00

OK, so I was listening to the radio when that song came on, Johnny Cash covering Nine Inch Nails--you know, "I hurt myself today to see if I could feel"; "You can have it all, my sweetest friend"--that song. I can't tell who exactly the remake makes the most fun of--Johny Cash, Trent Reznor, or an entire generation of hipsters?? Let me be clear: I like Johnny Cash, I like Nine Inch Nails,

Julianoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3014880.post-917719752003-04-01T05:43:00.000-08:002003-04-01T05:43:58.610-08:00

fucking blogger

Julianoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3014880.post-916327882003-03-29T19:55:00.000-08:002003-03-29T19:55:10.496-08:00

My beloved just flew off to Europe for 2 weeks. My brother last week gave me this big lecture on how I have a "schedule,", a "clock", and I don't want to be having my first kids at 40. True that last part. He encouraged me to ditch the physicist, who's leaving in maybe a year, and try to find someone to marry and settle down with. He STARTED the conversation by telling my about some guy he'd

Julianoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3014880.post-913579142003-03-25T10:07:00.000-08:002003-03-29T19:46:40.000-08:00

Wow, this war is like a big fucking video game. You can go to CNN.com and click on all kinds of links: strategy, maps, weapons, casualties---it's got interactive links for the whole family. I won't even go into TV coverage, which I'm not watching. Fucking sick. And embedded journalists--whose stories have to get cleared by the Pentagon? What a sick fucking thing this is. How many points did

Julianoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3014880.post-908856902003-03-17T15:58:00.000-08:002003-03-17T16:00:09.000-08:00

OK, I'll admit to another reason I feel pukey. I think I'm headlong into another depression. All I want to do is lie in bed. I don't want to leave my apartment at all. When I do, I feel disoriented and weird and like I should get back home. II certainly don't want to talk to ANYone on any social level. 've been like this for days. Also, I think physicist doesn't really give a shit about me

Julianoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3014880.post-908852592003-03-17T15:51:00.000-08:002003-03-17T15:51:14.543-08:00

The headlines today have left me pukey. My stomach is all clenched and nauseated. I did run yesterday, in the hot fucking sun, in the morning, pacing w/ 2 marathoners. I kept up but today my legs really hurt. Let's face it, the whole run hurt. And there were HILLS. That's fucked up. Well, OK people, since WW3 is about to start, it's been great knowing you. The physicist says Bush won't

Julianoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3014880.post-903900022003-03-08T22:37:00.000-08:002003-03-09T11:10:24.000-08:00

(nothing here)

Julianoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3014880.post-903892092003-03-08T22:16:00.000-08:002003-03-09T11:09:55.000-08:00

I am relaxed, after handing in crappy paper. My boss finally consented to my being part-time. I have no classes next week (spring break and NO, I am not going anywhere). I ran 4 miles tonight, or nearly; also nearly puked. My race is in a week. I got my first fucking race-#-bib. I can run the distance. But at 10 in the morning? I can run after eating crab rolls; I can run after a glass of

Julianoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3014880.post-900776112003-03-03T15:52:00.000-08:002003-03-03T15:52:47.920-08:00

Ah, Naked War Protests: the new trend, in Australia, California, Chile. Here in Boston it's -5 (with wind chill), so I'm not even undressing to shower. Fuck it, let's face it, I haven't showered or changed clothes in 3 days or something and it's not b/c of the weather. Fucking huge-ass paper due, Kant and the GLAMericans as neoDadaists, absurdity as political response...I have no idea what the

Julianoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3014880.post-895715202003-02-22T15:44:00.000-08:002003-02-22T15:44:52.136-08:00

I hate this fucking schedule. I had barely enough time to run last night before meeting my sweet departing physicist for dinner. I was supposed to be doing homework, but I'm also supposed to be training for an upcoming 5K run on St. Patrick's day. I think I'm only doing the run so I'll feel justified drinking Guinness midday. Ah, fitness. Ah, beer. Ah, fitness and beer. Then I ended up

Julianoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3014880.post-893210892003-02-18T11:08:00.000-08:002003-02-18T11:08:33.916-08:00

Blizzard. I wandered out this morning to examine the drifts, the ski tracks on the sidewalks, the buried cars. I got home to find 2 guys in T-shirts on the steps of our building, dangling pieces of laundry from a laundry basket and then tossing them into the snow. This was unusual behavior, even for my neighborhood. As I got closer I saw a white rat running up the walkway and climb into the

Julianoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3014880.post-891701752003-02-15T19:38:00.000-08:002003-02-15T19:38:43.466-08:00

Well, this has been a fuck of a week. Monday, tore my last contact, cats had terrible fight, I was late to work and couldn't see. Tuesday, got absolutely torn apart in a writing workshop. Wednesday, came down with throat infection. Thursday...I probably blocked it out. Friday, my sweet beloved physicist tells me he's accepted a job overseas. That's still a little too raw right now. Today,

Julianoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3014880.post-888220812003-02-09T16:58:00.000-08:002003-02-09T16:58:02.420-08:00

The other day I was kind of out of food except I found some tofu pups. So I was cutting them lengthwise to make a sandwich and I dropped one on the cat. So I apologized to the cat, rinsed off the tofu pup and dried it on a dishtowel I found by the sink. The sandwich was pretty good. I haven't seen the freaky cat in 2 days; I think she's in the broom closet. This is no way to live. So far

Julianoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3014880.post-880927872003-01-27T04:25:00.000-08:002003-01-27T04:28:28.000-08:00

Finally stepping forward despite the crippling shyness that obviously plagues the rest of my readers--if I have any--Mike Daisey sent me fan mail. Thank you, Mike. I hope the rest of you follow suit promptly. I have a fucking car now!! and yes, I couldn't find parking my very first night! Speaking of "this parking space is taken," things still seem to be going fairly well with my sweet

Julianoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3014880.post-872509762003-01-10T20:42:00.000-08:002003-01-10T20:42:15.270-08:00

still hanging w/ post-office guy...pretty sweet. still hanging some w/ kick- my-ass-at-pool guy, funny dude, just as friends. am getting car soon, which i have to use to drive to maine to pick up cat i used to own, then will use car to buy kitty litter in bulk. if i sort of have a boyfriend then i can't well be a cat lady, can i...p.o.-guy and i take salsa lessons. the cat and i don't dance

Julianoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3014880.post-866122212002-12-27T20:14:00.000-08:002002-12-27T20:14:55.656-08:00

Post-office guy and I are heading into the woods tomorrow to build a snowman. He's amazing. We hung out for hours on Monday and ...wow. We've had to email since then (let's hear it for my brother, by the way, who made Christmas w/ the parents very bearable!!). Post-office guy...I haven't felt this way in a very long time. For him, yes, I'm ready to give up my cat-lady ways. And sweet

Julianoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3014880.post-863833952002-12-21T20:19:00.000-08:002002-12-22T06:37:32.000-08:00

Ah, Christmas...my neighbors are having a party, which you can hear really well if you stand in my bathroom...but I haven't cleaned the litter box lately, so I don't really want to hang out in my bathroom... Online dating. Had a great date Wednesday with someone really smart and interesting who kept kicking my ass at pool. Today, met someone else who was kind of boring and stiff (the Lewis

Julianoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3014880.post-863831962002-12-21T20:13:00.000-08:002002-12-21T20:13:26.903-08:00

I TRIED to post this last week, but fucking blogger..... So I've finally entered the wonderful world of online dating. No photo. I guess my last dating experience was so intellectually vapid that somehow in my profile I managed to convey a need for some kind of smart guy. Now I am getting emails from guys falling all over themselves to explain why Lewis Lapham is their hero (in full,

Julianoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3014880.post-855907182002-12-06T05:50:00.000-08:002002-12-06T05:51:27.000-08:00

This whole non-drinking thing is pretty cool. It's been 7 days now. That's a fucking record for me. Last night was REALLY hard, though. I was tired, cranky, tense. It seemed to easy to just have a beer or several. Or a shot (or several). Instead I hung out at a cafe with my friend Misha, then took a long walk in the snow, talking on the phone to a friend I haven't spoken with in a really

Julianoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3014880.post-853721812002-12-02T03:45:00.000-08:002002-12-02T03:48:40.000-08:00

The #&^@%#)% fuckin' cat is risking her life. She's got this wonderful new habit of coming into my room at 5:12 a.m. or so and either yowling or else climbing all over me, purring, until she's "built" the perfect nest of my arm/shoulder and then keeps purring and KNEADS my arm with those tiny little razor claws. That's ok, sometimes it's kind of nice to be up way before dawn on a day when I

Julianoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3014880.post-853328192002-12-01T07:39:00.000-08:002002-12-01T07:42:48.000-08:00

I finally watched "Sherman's March," about that guy who sets off to retrace Sherman's march through the south except the filmmaker, Ross McElwee, is kind of a lonely heart and the film is more about the various women he falls in love with along the way. Intriguing documentary. McElwee comes off as kind of a lonely weirdo, growing sadder and more desparate throughout. Women keep leaving him,

Julianoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3014880.post-853035462002-11-30T12:28:00.000-08:002002-11-30T12:28:10.720-08:00

Now I'm drinking liquid crack in the form of Hansen's Energy Drink (taurine, gingko, ginseng, caffeine, sugar) in hopes of inspiration. What I'd rather do is crawl under a blanket on the couch and sleep until Tuesday. However, I have a presentation due Monday (bloody hell, one on Tuesday, too!). Tonight's glorious activitiy: I might hit a--*gasp*--AA meeting because I could be doing a lot

Julianoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3014880.post-852791902002-11-29T19:28:00.000-08:002002-11-29T19:28:50.490-08:00

This whole not-doing-drugs-business is pretty fun. I managed to work almost 12 hours today with only some coffee in me. Funny thing, though, my Colombian coffee that I've been buying lately has the same kind of gasoline smell of badly-cut coke. So at least some things are still the same, I guess, 2 pokey months later. On the not-so-bright side, I barely talk anymore, let alone at a mile a

Julianoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3014880.post-851078252002-11-26T05:59:00.000-08:002002-11-29T19:29:13.000-08:00

Jesss' Photo Reviews: News Photos You Can Frame Reuters, Friday 11/22 Reuter's photo of Bush, Powell, Rice, and Rumsfeld at the NATO summit was like some avante-garde performance piece. On the left, Bush--at 3/4 profile--looked like he was thinking about a whole bunch of life's regrets, or else stoned and tired; on the right, Rumsfeld's head, facing forward but facing slightly downward, was

Julianoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3014880.post-846050732002-11-15T19:08:00.000-08:002002-11-15T19:08:40.576-08:00

How exactly does the FBI define "spectacular"??? Today was our last glorious day of work, and our colleagues packed us off w/ several beers plus gifts: a scented candle in a box, the candle tightly packed around with all kinds of office supplies: rubber bands (in honor of our rubber-band wars over the tops of the cubicles), staples, white-out, sticky notes. Better, the candles were something

Julianoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3014880.post-845079412002-11-13T20:15:00.000-08:002002-11-13T20:15:07.390-08:00

Boyfriend and I have ended it for good, my decision I guess but I feel like shit about it. We used to laugh at the craziest things. Laughing's not enough if you just don't meet when you talk. I feel bad, and I miss him, and maybe I just threw away something really good. But I no longer want to waste time on things that don't work easily. I don't want to bother with people that take so much

Julianoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3014880.post-838556962002-10-31T19:05:00.000-08:002002-10-31T19:06:15.000-08:00

Well, it's certainly a week of cleaning out my room, if you will. Boyfriend and I, after horrible fight last week and the other night, meet last night, both with a list of grievances ( we find out later from each other). We have a very mature, caring, listening conversation where we are careful and sincere and still madly in love with each other. We end in lots of hugs and kisses and

Julianoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3014880.post-835697732002-10-26T15:44:00.000-07:002002-10-26T15:44:33.076-07:00

The black dye in my hair keeps coming off on my hands, shoulders, face. I'm afraid that with the rain, my fake mustache and press-on nails will also come off before I get to the party. My father says my costume sounds like J. Edgar Hoover but these are different times, Dad. I'm simply going to be a gender bender: a woman dressed as a man dressed as a woman. Plus, I finally have an excuse to

Julianoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3014880.post-832951012002-10-21T06:19:00.000-07:002002-10-21T06:19:20.750-07:00

I left my bike parked in a busy part of town, lots of bars and clubs, for a couple of days. My bike is 15 years old, with a rusty chain, a badly worn (and irreplaceable) freewheel, tires wearing through and about to burst. But it gets me around. I finally went to retrieve the poor bike last night. Someone had removed the rear wheel. However, they left it leaning against the bike!!

Julianoreply@blogger.com