Posts
Ok folks.
84 Charing Cross Road with Anthony Hopkins as a precious, reserved young British gentleman and Ann Bancroft as a brassy British Lit lover in Brooklyn. Cute as a button. Seriously. Also with Judi Dench, who you hate that you love (not love to hate. Rather the opposite). Not the ending I particularly wanted, but because of Judi Dench, it has to end that way. Mmm mmm mmm.
And how about a little 1946 La Belle et la Bête? French classic film version of Beauty and the Beast. Ignore the violent melodramatic style and appreciate it for what it is. Do as Dr. Walsh advises and ignore the arrogance of the present. Loved it. I want to watch it again. Right now.
Giggle if you will, but I just finished Tuck Everlasting. I was 13 when it came out originally. I think I was cynical about it even then, but then as well as now, I can allow for a little wistfulness. Please let's ignore the uncanny similarities to the Twilight monstrosities that are currently plaguing our theaters. That wasn't pointed out to me until after I finished watching it. I'm delighted to say that Winnie seems to be far more level-headed than I hear that Bella chick is. She doesn't make a totally life-altering decision while going through puberty. And her love interest doesn't sparkle.
Zing!
I have The 39 Steps in a handy dandy Netflix sleeve, so I'll have to get to that soon.
Heading to San Francisco on Friday. In 38 hours I'll be boarding a plane. I may or may not have just done a little happy dance.
Wednesday, June 30, 2010
Saturday, June 26, 2010
MY WORLD IS BIGGER THAN TRAVEL MUGS!
I've been working on trinity shakespeare festival for 7 weeks now. That's about 50 days. That's far too many hours in each day spent thinking about petty things like merchandise sales and bed linens.
It has significantly decreased the size of my perceivable world.
I saw one of my dearest friends yesterday, and all I could think to say to her was something along the lines of "The world is going to end tomorrow night if we don't have skittles for concessions. ANGRY PATRONS, LINDSAY! WE CANNOT HAVE ANGRY SKITTLE-LESS PATRONS!!!"
And she thought I was bonkers I'm sure. Because I was so dead serious.
This makes me so sad for my state of being. I know the world is much bigger than that. I know there are literally billions of things that are INFINITELY more important than, say, skittles sales. Things more important being hungry children in India, my friend who is in the woods being a camp counselor for the summer, my sister who is another year older as of yesterday, a giant stupid oil spill that's destroying our gulf, and most importantly, the loving God who has even these things under His divine control. But for that one brief instant (and for far too many of those brief instances over the past 50 days) I have inconveniently forgotten the very very important fact that the world I live in does not revolve around ceramic Shakespeare quote mugs.
So I'm leaving. I'm going to San Francisco. I'm going to watch fireworks there and marvel at them like a child. I'm going to go look at redwood trees that are mind-blowingly old and wise, and I'm going to be put in my place by the great big God who created those big lovely trees (and little ole me).
I now realize why there are so many mommy-blogs out there. They're desperately needed as an outlet to get rid of all of the PTA gossip, the homework assignments, the "mommy, he stole my lego spaceship wing!" and the spilled milk in order to re-prioritize to see that those things just don't matter. Those HAVE to be gotten rid of in order to make space in mom-brains for the important things like how to know when to sing "Jesus loves me this I know, for the Bible tells me so..." at just the right time and how to console a 12-year-old girl who is being told by this mean world that she isn't allowed to be the awkward pre-teen that she may inherently be (it's a phase, I swear).
So, I salute you, mommy-blogs, and though I don't understand you (not having ever procreated, and all), I thank you for not getting sucked into the minute details of this weird world and taking all of that junk that you seem to have to hold onto too seriously.
It has significantly decreased the size of my perceivable world.
I saw one of my dearest friends yesterday, and all I could think to say to her was something along the lines of "The world is going to end tomorrow night if we don't have skittles for concessions. ANGRY PATRONS, LINDSAY! WE CANNOT HAVE ANGRY SKITTLE-LESS PATRONS!!!"
And she thought I was bonkers I'm sure. Because I was so dead serious.
This makes me so sad for my state of being. I know the world is much bigger than that. I know there are literally billions of things that are INFINITELY more important than, say, skittles sales. Things more important being hungry children in India, my friend who is in the woods being a camp counselor for the summer, my sister who is another year older as of yesterday, a giant stupid oil spill that's destroying our gulf, and most importantly, the loving God who has even these things under His divine control. But for that one brief instant (and for far too many of those brief instances over the past 50 days) I have inconveniently forgotten the very very important fact that the world I live in does not revolve around ceramic Shakespeare quote mugs.
So I'm leaving. I'm going to San Francisco. I'm going to watch fireworks there and marvel at them like a child. I'm going to go look at redwood trees that are mind-blowingly old and wise, and I'm going to be put in my place by the great big God who created those big lovely trees (and little ole me).
I now realize why there are so many mommy-blogs out there. They're desperately needed as an outlet to get rid of all of the PTA gossip, the homework assignments, the "mommy, he stole my lego spaceship wing!" and the spilled milk in order to re-prioritize to see that those things just don't matter. Those HAVE to be gotten rid of in order to make space in mom-brains for the important things like how to know when to sing "Jesus loves me this I know, for the Bible tells me so..." at just the right time and how to console a 12-year-old girl who is being told by this mean world that she isn't allowed to be the awkward pre-teen that she may inherently be (it's a phase, I swear).
So, I salute you, mommy-blogs, and though I don't understand you (not having ever procreated, and all), I thank you for not getting sucked into the minute details of this weird world and taking all of that junk that you seem to have to hold onto too seriously.
Wednesday, June 23, 2010
Early
Ok, so it's not actually early. It's early to be writing a blog post. Or late, if you consider that I should be well on my way to being ready for class, and I'm kinda procrastinating that process by writing to my poor neglected reader(s).
Regina Spektor has lulled me awake the past week. Not with her standard stuff, but with the things you'll find under "live" or "demos" on respektonline.com. Enjoy. You're welcome.
PS, I skipped class yesterday to love on my family. Legit excuse since they drove 9 hours to be loved on. I miss my sister already. So I bought a red tea kettle. Speaking of, I need to go get ready and make my morning tea. With my new red tea kettle. I may or may not have made English Breakfast Tea at midnight last night. Hey, it was naturally decaffeinated. Don't hate on me and my obsession with honey-laden warmth and happiness.
Speaking of, slam poetry makes me feel good. Very good. It makes me feel like the world caught jazz like an illness, and this handful of people poked their heartbeats with the sharp edge of a brassy horn blast and BAM out flowed this tumble of words and pain and love and vulnerability. Right there pulsing on the cool brick ground for the crowd to marvel at, saying, "That was INSIDE your HEART? What ELSE is in there??" And the poet takes that response very seriously. It makes or breaks a night, it mends or breaks that poor poked heart. It's a self-sacrificing act, to slam and be judged by more than snaps and "Mmmm"s. Those are generous and encouraging, but judges and numbers are not. That makes the outpouring of heartbeats a win or lose game with a lot on the line. The loss of the $4 entry fee aside, the loss of a poem hurts like a breakup with yourself, so you are gruesomely exposed to both sides of the pain.
I could go on, but Theatre History II calls. :)
Regina Spektor has lulled me awake the past week. Not with her standard stuff, but with the things you'll find under "live" or "demos" on respektonline.com. Enjoy. You're welcome.
PS, I skipped class yesterday to love on my family. Legit excuse since they drove 9 hours to be loved on. I miss my sister already. So I bought a red tea kettle. Speaking of, I need to go get ready and make my morning tea. With my new red tea kettle. I may or may not have made English Breakfast Tea at midnight last night. Hey, it was naturally decaffeinated. Don't hate on me and my obsession with honey-laden warmth and happiness.
Speaking of, slam poetry makes me feel good. Very good. It makes me feel like the world caught jazz like an illness, and this handful of people poked their heartbeats with the sharp edge of a brassy horn blast and BAM out flowed this tumble of words and pain and love and vulnerability. Right there pulsing on the cool brick ground for the crowd to marvel at, saying, "That was INSIDE your HEART? What ELSE is in there??" And the poet takes that response very seriously. It makes or breaks a night, it mends or breaks that poor poked heart. It's a self-sacrificing act, to slam and be judged by more than snaps and "Mmmm"s. Those are generous and encouraging, but judges and numbers are not. That makes the outpouring of heartbeats a win or lose game with a lot on the line. The loss of the $4 entry fee aside, the loss of a poem hurts like a breakup with yourself, so you are gruesomely exposed to both sides of the pain.
I could go on, but Theatre History II calls. :)
Monday, June 14, 2010
Test tomorrow
I have 2 days off of this Trinity Shakes thing. Please don't misunderstand, I'm so glad to be working on this festival this summer. I'm just wiped. In the last 5 nights, I dreamed of Trinity merchandise sales for 3 of them. There has not been a 24 hour period where I did not have some sort of Trinity obligation/problem to solve/preparation to do.
Tomorrow (Monday, so technically today) and Tuesday are those two days for me.
That's it.
The holy grail.
The glorious days where I can do whatever I like.
Where I can be--me. Not the company manager.
The one day when I can connect with people with a completely non-business mindset.
I get to be goofy and childish if I want.
I can cook and do laundry like a normal person.
Oh wait. I still have summer school.
I have a test tomorrow.
And my dear sweet significant other is going to be working during the very small number of hours that I'll be available to see him as a normal person. And all my friends are either out of town or spending massive quantities of time with their significant others, making them unavailable for loving-on as well. And cleaning doesn't actually sound like fun at all.
Screw you "days off". You exist by title only.
There. Pity party published.
Tomorrow (Monday, so technically today) and Tuesday are those two days for me.
That's it.
The holy grail.
The glorious days where I can do whatever I like.
Where I can be--me. Not the company manager.
The one day when I can connect with people with a completely non-business mindset.
I get to be goofy and childish if I want.
I can cook and do laundry like a normal person.
Oh wait. I still have summer school.
I have a test tomorrow.
And my dear sweet significant other is going to be working during the very small number of hours that I'll be available to see him as a normal person. And all my friends are either out of town or spending massive quantities of time with their significant others, making them unavailable for loving-on as well. And cleaning doesn't actually sound like fun at all.
Screw you "days off". You exist by title only.
There. Pity party published.
Thursday, June 10, 2010
Things I need:
- A clean bathroom (I'm getting there, I'm getting there)
- A claw foot tub (preferably clean. See above)
- A personal assistant (a super passive [NOT aggressive] efficient female, preferably, if you're applying)
- An evening date with my boyfriend that doesn't involve us both in complete and utter exhaustion (how is THIS summer?)
- Some new clothing items that magically fit and appear in my closet without the awful shopping process
- Lunch with my dear friend (nay, sister) Meg
- Several days with my for real sister, Jane :)
- Godly focus (these are not in order of importance. Cuz this one is #1)
- Sunday afternoon (Trinity Shakespeare Festival opens tonight and runs through the weekend. 3 receptions to be in charge of over the course of 36 hours. Eye twitch.)
- To turn 21, NOT so that I can drink, but so that I can go to the Scat Jazz Lounge downtown. Because I am on an epic jazz kick and I want to hear live jazz in a jazzy atmosphere real bad.
- A breath mint (Just ate Chipotle. With onions and peppers. Almost finished the entire burrito. Amen.)
- A claw foot tub (preferably clean. See above)
- A personal assistant (a super passive [NOT aggressive] efficient female, preferably, if you're applying)
- An evening date with my boyfriend that doesn't involve us both in complete and utter exhaustion (how is THIS summer?)
- Some new clothing items that magically fit and appear in my closet without the awful shopping process
- Lunch with my dear friend (nay, sister) Meg
- Several days with my for real sister, Jane :)
- Godly focus (these are not in order of importance. Cuz this one is #1)
- Sunday afternoon (Trinity Shakespeare Festival opens tonight and runs through the weekend. 3 receptions to be in charge of over the course of 36 hours. Eye twitch.)
- To turn 21, NOT so that I can drink, but so that I can go to the Scat Jazz Lounge downtown. Because I am on an epic jazz kick and I want to hear live jazz in a jazzy atmosphere real bad.
- A breath mint (Just ate Chipotle. With onions and peppers. Almost finished the entire burrito. Amen.)
Monday, June 7, 2010
Pamela
My dad is the baby of 4, the oldest being my Aunt Pamela. She was a flower child in the 60's--I'm talkin', TARGET AUDIENCE of the hippie wave. She didn't marry until she was about 40 (I was the superstar flower girl at her wedding), and when she did it was to a blessing of a man. Nick (who I always have and always will call Prince Nick) is a retired cardiologist and a quiet, joyful, pensive man who loves C. S. Lewis and American history. They have a quiet study in their house that is FULL of books on such subjects (it's my favorite room in that house).
When I was about ten or eleven, and in the most awkward of awkward stages, I got to visit Pamela and Prince Nick in the summertime (this is now known as Lady Lessons). Now, certainly, I got to see them at traditional family gatherings (big fun Christmas and Thanksgiving events), but these summer trips--they happened about 3 summers in a row--were divine. We would shop (possibly the only time in the history of the world that I have enjoyed shopping anywhere that isn't Anthropologie) and go to museums... We would have lunch with her fun adult lady friends who were just like her... She would play the piano and I would have peaches in my cereal (a novel idea)... I would sit in Prince Nick's study and read or just sit and enjoy the feel of that wonderful room...
In junior high Pamela gave me a book-- Bright Legacy-- which is a collection of essays about 10 outstanding Christian women written by Christian women authors. At the time I was reading retellings of fairy tales and historical fiction mystery novels. I had basically NO interest in anything nonfiction, but I didn't want to hurt her feelings so I kept it. It lived happily on my shelf next to some other books that looked impressive to have that I didn't have any interest in reading until I was looking through my bookshelf to determine which of my well-loved friends would travel with me to Texas. For some reason, I put Bright Legacy in the college box. It continued to travel with me to different dorms and apartments until I landed in my current location. As I was unpacking and organizing books, I pulled that one out and started reading.
About 55 pages later, I realized that Pamela had very deliberately given me a book full of inspiration and direction for young women telling how to focus not just one's spirituality but one's entire life on serving God. I NEEDED this! I needed this kind of guidance! I needed these examples! I didn't know who any of the women were at the time, except for Mother Teresa, but one of the essays is about Amy Carmichael and it is written by Elisabeth Elliot. Amy Carmichael, who lived her life as a missionary in India, and Elisabeth Elliot, whose husband (Jim Elliot) was killed while they were both missionaries (her whole life story is amazing--check it out).
My aunt is NOT just one of those "I'm a Christian because it's in the water and my neighbors will judge me if I don't go to church" kind of folks. No. Aunt Pamela loves Christ with every fiber of her being, and that has amazed me--whether I knew what it was or not--my whole life. I just got off the phone with her (why don't we talk more often??) and she has offered to help me find a way to get to India. A very different reaction than what I have grown used to (and grown to fear/expect).
This is a picture of Pamela her senior year of high school. She was selected as Most Beautiful by some stud muffin movie star of that day and age. They sent in pictures of 6 or 8 girls from her high school to him and he voted her the fairest of them all.
I totally agree with that--inside and out.
When I was about ten or eleven, and in the most awkward of awkward stages, I got to visit Pamela and Prince Nick in the summertime (this is now known as Lady Lessons). Now, certainly, I got to see them at traditional family gatherings (big fun Christmas and Thanksgiving events), but these summer trips--they happened about 3 summers in a row--were divine. We would shop (possibly the only time in the history of the world that I have enjoyed shopping anywhere that isn't Anthropologie) and go to museums... We would have lunch with her fun adult lady friends who were just like her... She would play the piano and I would have peaches in my cereal (a novel idea)... I would sit in Prince Nick's study and read or just sit and enjoy the feel of that wonderful room...
In junior high Pamela gave me a book-- Bright Legacy-- which is a collection of essays about 10 outstanding Christian women written by Christian women authors. At the time I was reading retellings of fairy tales and historical fiction mystery novels. I had basically NO interest in anything nonfiction, but I didn't want to hurt her feelings so I kept it. It lived happily on my shelf next to some other books that looked impressive to have that I didn't have any interest in reading until I was looking through my bookshelf to determine which of my well-loved friends would travel with me to Texas. For some reason, I put Bright Legacy in the college box. It continued to travel with me to different dorms and apartments until I landed in my current location. As I was unpacking and organizing books, I pulled that one out and started reading.
About 55 pages later, I realized that Pamela had very deliberately given me a book full of inspiration and direction for young women telling how to focus not just one's spirituality but one's entire life on serving God. I NEEDED this! I needed this kind of guidance! I needed these examples! I didn't know who any of the women were at the time, except for Mother Teresa, but one of the essays is about Amy Carmichael and it is written by Elisabeth Elliot. Amy Carmichael, who lived her life as a missionary in India, and Elisabeth Elliot, whose husband (Jim Elliot) was killed while they were both missionaries (her whole life story is amazing--check it out).
My aunt is NOT just one of those "I'm a Christian because it's in the water and my neighbors will judge me if I don't go to church" kind of folks. No. Aunt Pamela loves Christ with every fiber of her being, and that has amazed me--whether I knew what it was or not--my whole life. I just got off the phone with her (why don't we talk more often??) and she has offered to help me find a way to get to India. A very different reaction than what I have grown used to (and grown to fear/expect).
This is a picture of Pamela her senior year of high school. She was selected as Most Beautiful by some stud muffin movie star of that day and age. They sent in pictures of 6 or 8 girls from her high school to him and he voted her the fairest of them all.
I totally agree with that--inside and out.
Thursday, June 3, 2010
Parting Is Such Sweet Sorrow
First off, I'd love a comment or two if you're hopping by my site--just a hello, so that I know if you're there! I don't bite! Ok that's a lie.
This is the first time I've had a truly bittersweet (more sweet than bitter) move-away-from-a-roommate experience, and I've kinda had 2 in one week! One kinda doesn't count as a technical roommate. A dear friend couch surfed with me for about a month while my roommate was away, and it was so incredibly pleasant. I'd do that again in a heartbeat--only the couch wasn't mine, and it's moving tomorrow.
Now my roommate is moving away with her fiance to begin their life together. We are genuinely sad to not be roommies anymore! Granted, we're both stoked about the life ahead, don't get me wrong! But I will always look back fondly at our time together. Both of us have had our fair share of roommate issues before we moved in together, and while it hasn't been the most utopian ideal, this situation has been pretty incredible. She has been my mom, my sister, my best friend, my chef, my masseuse, and far more. We both hit low spots over the course of the year, and we took it out on each other in our own ways, but we made it through with smiles beaming from the joyous love in our hearts for each other. I am thrilled and honored to be in her wedding in the fall, and (first time I think I've ever really written something like this) I feel pretty darn confident that she will be in mine someday. This lovely young woman holds a big important place in my heart. I'll miss having her so nearby.
This is the first time I've had a truly bittersweet (more sweet than bitter) move-away-from-a-roommate experience, and I've kinda had 2 in one week! One kinda doesn't count as a technical roommate. A dear friend couch surfed with me for about a month while my roommate was away, and it was so incredibly pleasant. I'd do that again in a heartbeat--only the couch wasn't mine, and it's moving tomorrow.
Now my roommate is moving away with her fiance to begin their life together. We are genuinely sad to not be roommies anymore! Granted, we're both stoked about the life ahead, don't get me wrong! But I will always look back fondly at our time together. Both of us have had our fair share of roommate issues before we moved in together, and while it hasn't been the most utopian ideal, this situation has been pretty incredible. She has been my mom, my sister, my best friend, my chef, my masseuse, and far more. We both hit low spots over the course of the year, and we took it out on each other in our own ways, but we made it through with smiles beaming from the joyous love in our hearts for each other. I am thrilled and honored to be in her wedding in the fall, and (first time I think I've ever really written something like this) I feel pretty darn confident that she will be in mine someday. This lovely young woman holds a big important place in my heart. I'll miss having her so nearby.
Tuesday, June 1, 2010
Avocado Chimichurri Bruschetta
http://ellesnewenglandkitchen.squarespace.com/blog/2010/1/14/avocado-chimichurri-bruschetta.html
This stuff is divine. Just ask le boyfriend.
2 Tbs. lemon juice
2 Tbs. red wine vinegar
3/4 tsp. salt
1/2 tsp. dried oregano
1/4 tsp. ground black pepper
1/4 cup olive oil
1/4 cup chopped cilantro, minced
1//4 cup chopped fresh parsley, minced
2 avocados, peeled, pitted, and cubed
6 slices of toasted baguette, rubbed with garlic cloves
Combine the lemon juice, vinegar, salt, oregano, and black pepper in small bowl.
Whisk in the oil until thoroughly combined, then stir in the herbs.
Gently toss the avocado cubes into the sauce.
Spoon the avocado and sauce mixture onto toast slices.
Read more: http://ellesnewenglandkitchen.squarespace.com/blog/2010/1/14/avocado-chimichurri-bruschetta.html#ixzz0pa5Hj4EA
This stuff is divine. Just ask le boyfriend.
2 Tbs. lemon juice
2 Tbs. red wine vinegar
3/4 tsp. salt
1/2 tsp. dried oregano
1/4 tsp. ground black pepper
1/4 cup olive oil
1/4 cup chopped cilantro, minced
1//4 cup chopped fresh parsley, minced
2 avocados, peeled, pitted, and cubed
6 slices of toasted baguette, rubbed with garlic cloves
Combine the lemon juice, vinegar, salt, oregano, and black pepper in small bowl.
Whisk in the oil until thoroughly combined, then stir in the herbs.
Gently toss the avocado cubes into the sauce.
Spoon the avocado and sauce mixture onto toast slices.
Read more: http://ellesnewenglandkitchen.squarespace.com/blog/2010/1/14/avocado-chimichurri-bruschetta.html#ixzz0pa5Hj4EA
What's Next?
So I start round 2 of summer classes tomorrow.
I have a meeting in 7 hours.
My gentleman caller's birthday is in T minus 3 days. He doesn't want any things, but he wants something. (Let us pray)
Trinity Shakes starts in a week.
I'm knitting a lace-y scarf.
I'm moving in 2 months and I don't exactly have any furniture.
In 6 months I'll be dominating my last round of finals.
I may go to India in January or February 2011.
I don't have any decent breakfast food in my apartment.
I'm so incredibly and genuinely happy with life right now :)
I have a meeting in 7 hours.
My gentleman caller's birthday is in T minus 3 days. He doesn't want any things, but he wants something. (Let us pray)
Trinity Shakes starts in a week.
I'm knitting a lace-y scarf.
I'm moving in 2 months and I don't exactly have any furniture.
In 6 months I'll be dominating my last round of finals.
I may go to India in January or February 2011.
I don't have any decent breakfast food in my apartment.
I'm so incredibly and genuinely happy with life right now :)
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
