It’s strange that the year my life changes the most is the year I journal the least. I seriously haven’t written in my journal in months. And those passing months have held some of the most significant things that have ever happened to me.
I’ve been keeping a journal since I was 11 years old. My cousin bought me one as a gift for Christmas of 1994. Since then it’s been my primary source of reflection, processing, and memory storage. I’ve captured some of the most ridiculous things. Someday I’ll have the guts to read some old entries at Seattle’s Salon of Shame. I’m not quite ready for that yet.
I hate the fact that I’m not journaling regularly now. I feel like I’m going to skip recording everything that’s happened in the last half-year and those memories are going to be lost forever. I wonder, however, if it’s somewhat developmentally appropriate. (Pardon the “day job” language.) I spent middle school, high school, college, and grad school a little lost. Mostly in that normal, adolescent/young adult, finding yourself sort of way. I was confused. Relationships were challenging. I didn’t understand how to interact with other people. The experiences I had with the people around me were novel, confusing, and needed lots and lots of processing.
Things now are different. I’m experiencing things I’ve never had before - from living in sin to getting so close to the “dream job.” It’s happening in a way that doesn’t require the same degree of analysis, stress, and concern. What I feel now and the choices I’m making now are right. I have no doubt of this. Some of the details are a bit fuzzy and confusing. But all the big stuff just makes sense.
I don’t want my journal to be the place I only go when I’m confused or stressed. I want it to be a running record of my life and my inner thoughts. I think that means just making time and forcing myself to do it. Like everything, it’s easy to do it when I need it - when my brain is full and I can’t see the other end without getting it all on paper. But even when things are good, there’s still so much value in keeping record of my perspective and the way in guides my choices.
The past 7 months have easily been the best of my life. When it gets hard again, as life inevitably does, I want to be able to revisit this time. Even if it’s just an attempt at trying to make it come back.
[video]
Dave and I have been in Chicago for a few days now wandering around and doing as much touristy shit as humanly possible. Today we had planned to go to the Field Museum. Our morning plans took longer than expected so we detoured to Navy Pier. The pass we bought that gives us access to all the touristy stuff isn’t supposed to be good for anything after 5:30, but we stopped by the booth for an architectural river cruise and the lady said we could get tickets for the 6:15. That gave us almost two hours to kill, so we set of to wander aimlessly around Navy Pier.
We got some snacks and checked out some of the stuff for sale. When we got to the very end of the pier, it was closed of for a private event. We went through a building to get to the other side of the pier and came across a long line of preteen girls and a police barricade. Dave asked the cop what was happening and he said, “they’re waiting for the Jonas brothers to come out.” Back on the other side I had seen a truck with a picture of Nick Jonas on it and when we first came to the other side of the pier we had seen a few cars parked and some people in suits smoking.
We cut through the building back to where we had come from so we could see the cars again out of view of the police. Just as we came out there, Nick Jonas was getting into the car. The preteens could see this happening and got all kinds of excited.
His security guard (the girls were recognizing him and calling him “Big Rob”) came to the line of girls and told them to line up single file so that they could meet the Jonas. For a few minutes, we were on the sidewalk across from all the girls watching their reactions. Eventually we were shooed to the side of the street with all the chaos.
We spent 20 minutes standing there in awe as the girls slowly moved up to have their moment with Nick. We positioned ourselves to hear their reactions as they walked away. And they were freaking hilarious.
This may be unnecessarily snarky, but a friend’s “I am married!!!” post on Facebook is irritating.
Two things:
1) I find it a little sickening to celebrate an institution that is used as a means of systematic discrimination towards a significant portion of American society.
2) How is becoming married, in and of itself, an accomplishment? Finding someone you have a happy and reciprocal relationship with? Sure. Sustaining said relationship through hard times? Definitely. Filling out some paperwork and getting presents? Not so much.
One might assert that the exclamation “I am married” is used to imply a lot - the finding of a suitable partner, the building of a relationship, the decision to make a legal commitment. But I don’t think that’s true. At all. And not in the sense that it used to be true but marriage has been degraded to the point that it no longer is, I think that it’s never been true.
Throughout history, and now, “I am married” can communicate a variety of things. Examples include the following:
I’m not anti-marriage. I think that everyone should have a right to do it if they want to. I think that for some people, it’s a choice that contributes to their life in a positive way, whatever the reason for entering into the contract may be. But I hate being asked to buy into the blind assumption that marriage means one certain thing and that it is to be universally celebrated.
Also, yes I know how old and bitter I sound…
For example, today I was reminded that the way I process stuff is by talking about it. I know that. It’s always been the case. But I temporarily forgot…
I started the day all moody and up in my head. Despite my best efforts, I couldn’t shake the obnoxiously over-analytical thoughts that kept creeping into my brain. Then I went to a coffee shop and spent an hour catching up with one of my awesome Seattle friends that I haven’t seen since February.
Just the process of telling her what was up with me and what I was doing cleared up the mental storm clouds that had been hovering around all morning. I’ve spent the rest of the day still exhausted and wanting to nap, but so much less anxious and unable to focus.
It’s pretty freaking cool to have friends to talk to like that.
[video]
I had grand plans to watch 300 movies this year. That’s not gonna happen. Instead I’m helping make a few.
“I’ve always wanted for you what you’ve wanted for yourself and yet I wanted to save us high water or hell and I kept on ignoring the ambivalence you felt and in the meantime I lost myself.” — Alanis, “That Particular Time”
This was the first and least memorable film I saw during my visit to Utah for the 2011 Sundance Film Festival. Freddie Highmore was super cute, Emma Roberts was coy and complicated, but the whole thing never quite came together for me.
It was a nice enough coming-of-age story and I did enjoy the aspect of Highmore’s character being an artist. I would be hard-pressed, however, to recount any of the details of the film. I’m sure this was partially caused by the exhaustion of a night of travel to Park City. But it was primarily the result of this film being entirely too bland to give me much to hold on to.
My visceral reaction to this film was toned down on this second viewing, but I still cycled through the whole range of emotions that it incites.
What I’ve always loved most about this movie is how, as the title so aptly suggests, it’s a story of a family. It’s not just Pat Tillman, his journey, and his death. It’s also his family and their struggles and joys.
“The days go on and on… they don’t end. All my life needed was a sense of someplace to go. I don’t believe that one should devote his life to morbid self-attention, I believe that one should become a person like other people.” — TAXI DRIVER
“It is not the big events that hurt the most but rather the smallest questionable shift in tone at the end of a spoken word that can plow most deeply into the heart.” — Steve Martin, “Shopgirl”
As cliched and silly as this movie is, I kind of love it. It’s just fun. Jennifer Garner is perfect for this role that requires wide eyes and alternating awe and confusion.
I know I’m way over-thinking the concept, but it makes me wonder how my 13 year old brain would have dealt with a glimpse into what adulthood had in store.
Why did I like this movie so much the first time I saw it? It’s pretty boring. The bigger question is why the hell do I own it?
“I too now am in the framing business.”
This movie will always be the place where one of the most important friendships of my life began.