justjessamyn

Communications to the Outside World

2006-03-16T14:07:00.000-08:00

Is it just me or does anyone else who sits at a desk Monday - Friday for 8 hours a day get the feeling that the world is happening outside and you're just on the sidelines. Me, I do. It's lucky that the other people in my office are so cool. We do our own things to bring a bit of life to the dreary work day. For example, we are currently listening to a mix tape with alittle Michael Jackson, a little David Bowie and alittle Stevie Wonder. We go on Starbux runs and glare at people who lounge there in the middle of the day, chatting with a friend and surrounded by shopping bags. We play double solitaire when the day is particularly long. Now this is my favorite! Solitaire was never been that appealing to me b/c I like games that you play with other people. I'm a middle child, I don't care for solitude. But in Double Solitaire you play with another person (which makes one wonder, should it still be called Solitaire?) and the goal is to play the most cards on the aces, so eventually you're racing against the other person to put your cards down before them. In the throws of the game you might here words shouted out like, "Whore!" or "Son of a Bitch" and some times in moments of pure frustration I make the noise of an explosion b/c I really want the person beating me to explode. Yes, it can get quite violent. Dana pioneered Double Solitaire in the Education office. She is manager of our acting labs and after spending one too many hours with small children in Seussical costumes she occupied the last 30 minutes of her work day with harmless double solitaire to chase away thoughts self inflicted pain. Rachel , our manager of community outreach, is infact a Card Shark. I wouldn't have used capital letters if I wasn't serious about it. Card Shark. When we play each other it's like Card Sark vs. Squirrley McSquirrlerson. She hones in on those aces and I just suffer brain fart after brain fart just trying to keep up. I'm glad that our office uses these tactics to bring alittle bit of the outside world into our cramped, motley, non-profit office that has a murky skylight and burnt out ceiling lights. I wouldn't change our cozy nest of an office for anything. Double Solitaire and a nice soy latte is all one needs for a reminder that the outside world happens inside too.

Trying to Keep Up

2006-03-10T12:48:00.000-08:00

Well, I have obviously neglected my own blog to a serious degree. It is even possible that I have lost all of my thousands of readers! Good thing I like to read my own stuff, otherwise these entries would be disappear completely. I am trying. For example, I absolutely do not feel like telling any stories or trying to be clever, and I do try whether it comes across or not, yet I am alone in the office at this moment and time. If I don't type out something today, right now in this empty office then maybe I just won't again and again and again. So here I go with a few random thoughts and then I'll be done with it:
Oscars - I love the movie Crash, and I loved it the first time I saw it. I also love it when something unpredictable happens during the Oscars b/c they can be so completely predictable...HOWEVER, Brokeback was the better film and one has to wonder why it didn't win. I gave it alot of thought because I really did love Crash, so why couldn't it be the best film of the year? In the end the award should go to a movie that takes one singular story and makes it larger than life. Crash had an amazing screenplay to work with and the material spoke to people from all backgrounds, which I love. Then there's the gay cowboy movie, which never had much hope to begin with. How are you going to make audiences take this seriously? Comboys played by Hollywood pretty boys that fall in love. I mean how many Brokeback jokes have you heard since the film was released? And yet, they found a way to make it more than a joke. It's one small story that went a very long way. Despite personal biases, one can't deny that Brokeback was the movie that, against ALL odds, rose to the top and became larger than life in American cinema for 2005.
Beavers -Today when I was pulling up to work there was road kill that caught my eye. Yes, I am bringing up road kill, just have a little faith and keep reading. I was trying to figure out what it was when I saw the tail and can you guess what it was? That's right! A Beaver! Poor Beaver. I didn't even know there were any beavers living in Dallas. My co-worker suggested that the animal possiby commited suicide since the creek he must be living in is pretty famous for being icky gross, full of all kinds of bog.
WBC - If anyone is keeping up with the World Baseball Championships please join me in cheering for Venezuela or the Dominican Republic. These countries got a lot of shit to deal with and they deserve to have a world championship baseball team. Something to celebrate, you know? Actually, don't tell Venezuela this, but I really want the Dominican to win, which is unlike me b/c I generally love all things Venezuelan like Ozzie Guillen. I just think the Dominican is an amazing story. For one very small country, that no one knows anything about to have such great baseball. You gotta love the underdog!
Deadwood - I have recently gotten hooked on this series, and I just wanted to share my new addiction. I love western stuff. I used to watch Dr. Quinn on Fridays, but know that Deadwood ain't no Dr. Quinn. The word of the week seems to be "cocksucker" every week on their show. I feel comfortable sharing this with you since my grandmother was the first to tell me how much she liked it. If you can get pass the grittiness you'll find amazing complex characters that you will love and hate at the same time.
Baha'i Gardens - Yesterday we (work friends) had lunch with a visiting playwright and his partner. I was not eating b/c of the Baha'i Fast and explained such to them. I was then delighted to know that one of them grew up in Wilmete near a Baha'i Temple. I responded by saying, "My sister got married there!" to which he said, "Yes, the gardens were a perfect place for teens to make out growing up." And then I laughed for 10 minutes. I don't think my mom would approve of that, but it makes plenty of sense. The Baha'i Temple is surrounded by lovely gardens which are surrounded by neighborhoods where teenagers must live who are not Baha'i and looking for places to romance other horny teenagers. Ah...I'm still laughing about it alittle.

My Kids

2006-01-27T11:38:00.000-08:00

SO I work with a lot of middle schoolers. They come to the theater, we do workshops, play games, I take them to their seats, we talk about etiquette, scenic design, what's a Tony? Do you got bathrooms? Are there famous people in the lobby? What movie are we going to see? No, you can not bring that hot dog into the theater. That's ok if you don't like Harry Potter, this play isn't about that. Eccetera!

They are fabulous 7th & 8th graders who really don't care about Method acting or Uta Hagen or Ibsen. Instead they worry about having to sit next to some old lady and actors who spit too much when they talk. It's wonderful and they're fabulous! I mean, for a kid whose parents never make them bathe and doesn't have money to buy their own lunch, what is method acting to them? Some actor wants to find his character by starving himself and not bathing. Yeah, nice to be you where it's a choice and not your life. My kids are these beautiful, loud obnoxious children who come to the theater once a month and stick out like a sore thumbs with their bulky jackets and school identification cards and wide eyes and inappropriate giggles. We play games like: Find the Spot, Sound Ball and Rhythm Wars. This week we split into groups and they had to come up with a skit in which they were a family having breakfast together trying to figure out who ate all the cereal. When one "parent" would threaten to whip or hit whoever ate the cereal I'd say in a sunny voice, "Let's try to find positive solutions!" And I almost kissed a little boy named Laurence who started and ended his scene with dancing. If that's not a positive solution, I don't know what is! They know me as Miss and every time I see them they ask, "Member me from last time?". Usually I don't b/c we have a lot of schools coming in and out. Sometimes I do b/c they make a real impression. Like Geraldo from L.V. Stockard who is kind of shy, very polite and a little skeptical about all this acting stuff. Anyways, I think of them as My Kids every time they come, even if I don't remember their names. And when they are well behaved, over enthusiastic or even inappropriate I am proud of them. I'm proud that on this evening where they ride a bus to some theater that sells overpriced candy, where people get dressed up and almost everyone is taller than them, I get to be the smiling face that greets them. And although they don't know it, I am proud that this wild bunch of 14 year olds, who would never consider spending $25 to come see some play about a handicap kid, are (for one night a month) My Kids.

Grossmutter!

2006-01-20T15:05:00.000-08:00

Did you know that 8 medium sized strawberries have less calories than an apple and more Vitamin C than an orange? It's true. Did you know that the word Grossmotter is Grandmother in German? Also true. Those Germans are crazy. At work I've been preparing for our next play and reading a lot of German, CRACKS ME UP! Example: Guten Abend, Grossmutter! Dieses eine alte plattenspieler(for translation see bottom of page). Hee! Hee! Are you giggling? If not, it's b/c you haven't read it out loud yet. Come on, try it. HA! See, you sounded so silly....I guess it's not German that's funny, just my attempts to speak it. Just something about German sounds way more made up than other languages, you know what I mean? Like 2 very drunken, portly British men who were making up there own language and one pointed to his record player and said in a slurred and giggly voice, "What will we call that?" and his buddy thinks for 2.6 seconds and barks "PLATTENSPIELER!". Ha! I love it! My apologies to all the linguists who visit my blog, but really, you should be spending your time reading much more complelling and knowledgeable material anyways. I wonder if the next time I see my grandmother calling her Grossmutter would be worth the confusion it would undoubtedly cause. Probably not. I'll just stick to the safety of my blog for now. Alviterzahn Everyone!

Translation: Good Evening, Grandmother! This is an old record player.

A Little Help From The Wiser

2005-12-19T12:28:00.000-08:00

Yes. Hello. Jessa here. Just trying to prevent comments that leave both confused and preturbed. Any suggestions? I want friends to be able to comment without having to start their own account, BUT I don't want crazies leaving essays about their company's mission. Is there no way to have both. If anyone has helpful hints, please share.

On a lighter note, I am sitting in a very empty office listening to merengue and I'm having my own C2 yearnings...you know, "I want to break free", and dance on my desk to this awesomely Latin music I put in the CD player as soon as my co-worker left for lunch. The only thing holding me back is the fact that I am not wearing heels, but sneakers instead. Sneakers contradict the music in every way and so I remain seated. Don't get me wrong, I've danced merengue in sneakers, in flip flops, in bare feet, but where the environment and situation were in complete support of the dancing to be had. Here I am, in a well lite office, behind a big brown desk. A computer to my left, an in box to my right. The printer and file cabinet in arm's reach. In silence this place hums to me, "Type. Read. Blink. Again." I put on Chayanne, bombos and trumpet fill the room, my hips swing to the right and then the left, my shoulders roll, and then I remember that I'm wearing socks and sneakers, it's Monday, vacation starts Thursday and I have to finish a study guide before then. Thank goodness for sneakers and their staying factor, otherwise Chayanne would have taken over a long time ago, and instead of typing I'd be dancing.... And then you have to ask, "What's wrong with Chayanne? What's wrong with bare feet?" And before I have a chance to take off my shoes the CD ends. And the phone rings. And the office hums and Rachel comes back from lunch and another moment passes where I could have danced, but didn't.

In Support Of...

2005-12-13T20:56:00.000-08:00

In support of my previous post I'd like to share this writing from Baha'u'llah, which I came across this evening at a study circle:

"O My servants! Sorrow not if, in these days and on this earthly plane, things contrary to your wishes have been ordained and manifested by God, for days of blissful joy, of heavenly delight, are assuredly in store for you. Worlds, holy and spiritually glorious, will be unveiled to your eyes. You are destined by Him, in this world and hereafter, to partake of their benefits, to share in their joys, and to obtain a portion of their sustaining grace. To each and every one of them you will, no doubt, attain."

I love it when certain ideas can become a reoccuring theme.

Worlds. WORLDS will be unveiled to ME?! Little ol' Jessamyn Busch from 1220 Berkeley Street. Well, in that case, I better keep truckin'.

Have You Had Any Adventures Lately?

2005-12-12T12:04:00.000-08:00

I live a semi-scheduled life. Monday-Sunday I have both weekly and daily rituals. I go to work, talk on the phone family and Natalie & Amy, spend time with Jared, chat with my roommate, read before bed, look forward to watching West Wing, workout on the Eliptical (but not as often as I should). I brush my teeth because one should, but also because it's a foundation to my daily schedule. If for some CRAZY reason I forget to brush my teeth then you know the day cannot be too promising. Crest puts a bounce in my step, as does the act of washing my face, as does having a strong antipersperant to keep me SURE! And having my cellphone near, and having all 3 phone numbers of my big sister just in case. Such is my safe and semi-scheduled life. I say semi b/c sometimes I switch the schedule around AND sometimes I do totally new and different things. Like this weekend I went to the Opera, which I've only done once before. I went to Kwanza Fest, never done that before. So, as you can see, there's plenty of new and unscheduled events taking place within my life. One activity within my week is seeing a movie. I am a movie geek, or at least I run in that circle, and this week's movie was Chronicles of Narnia (hold your breath everyone, I'm about to come to my thesis). I remember reading about Lucy walking through the wardrobe and how the fur that brushed against her became pine needles, and feeling that were I in her shoes I would handle the situation in the same way, pleased as punch to be there and courteous to whatever fawn or beaver I might meet. And I am reminded how movies and books that take you so far away, but bring you back safely, are an antibiotic to the semi-scheduled life. One is harmlessly asked to dream without logic and thus carried to places where animals talk, and new species exist and human law is not the same, but good rules, or eventually overcomes. There is something in me that wants to always believe that existing now, in a place unseen but somehow close, is another world with another design and function. I've been in places that have felt magical and overwhelming, and there will never be a day where I feel sufficently fulfilled by the wonders of this world, BUT the idea of one great adventure growing, thriving and perhaps waiting for me is both haunting and sustaining. I say this with absolute loyalty to my semi-scheduled, earthful (you can make up words in your own blog), linear world. I love the scheduled and unscheduled events of my life because I believe in God's Great Design. It's because of this belief that the deep desire for a great and unknown adventure makes sense. More than books and movies, God has provided me with the most adventures, and one can only assume he's got a lot more in store for all of us.

p.s. I think I will dedicate this little entry to my mom, who frequently asks, "Have you had any adventures lately?".

Christmas Reason: Domonic and Celine

2005-11-26T22:15:00.000-08:00

I adore Christmas in my own chestnut roasting way. I am Baha'i and have my own wonderful Baha'i Holy Days to celebrate so I do not love Christmas for its religious significance. While many struggle to remember their "reason for the season" I submit myself to the commercialized Christmas I've known since when, and free of guilt enjoy the many exploited tenants of this sugared, sugary holiday. I love it because people sing silly songs together about animals and talking snowmen and bells. Just the other day I was listening to 103.7 which plays christmas music all day long. They played an old song about an Italian donkey named Dominic, who is Santa's favorite donkey. All my years of hearing cheesey Christmas songs and I had never heard this one before. There's an Italian Christmas donkey?! YES! Christmas rocks! When that song was over they played a moving dramatic piece called The Prayer, sung by Celine Dione and Andre Bordicelli. That rocks too. People need songs that lift them up, that make them feel closer to God. I have my own, non of which are sung by Celine, but I have my own. I hope, hope that for a lot of people out there The Prayer reflects their "reason for the season". Me? I'm all about Dominic. I'm all about the stories and legends and traditions that change from home to home. I'm all about what's found inside. I love this society showing a bit of the softer underbelly. I love people being a little nicer to one another, giving a second thought to where others are going and what they have to go home to. I love christmas time because people sing who don't usually sing. I love it because people make a little more effort. I love it because people still want to believe in magic. I love it because windows that are usually dark become bright with light. I love it because the streets are more empty and homes are humming with life. I love it because it is the one day of the year that Wal-Mart is closed, and that's sayin' something. I love it because it makes me think of a thousand memories of grandparents, long car rides, watching for snow, playing football in the yard, performing skits in the den, charades after dinner, fireplaces, coffee cake, parents in pajamas, old movies, brothers, sisters, cousins, aunts, Pappy opening his present before it's his turn!...Everyone spends more time inside. With their families, with their memories, with the things they cherish. I don't think I really need a reason to enjoy Christmas the way I do, but if I did, it seems I've got a lot of reasons to love this Santapalooza, overly commercialized, shopping crazed, chilly days, hectic travel, white elephant babble, bad egg nog, mistletoe snogs, red and white and silver and green and jolly, happy Christmas season.

Ebenezer Scrooge

2005-11-10T13:50:00.000-08:00

The theater company that I work for is currently prepping for Charles Dickens’ A Christmas Carol. I am excited to be a part of the production since Dickens is timelessly delightful and Christmas is fun. One thing I have especially enjoyed so far is our Ebenezer Scrooge. The actor portraying the famous curmudgeon is a sweet, sweet man named Robin Chadwick. At our company’s meet & greet for Christmas Carol I mistook him in his jeans and flannel shirt for a comfortably dressed designer or production person. That is until he looked up and even though he had a kind smile I thought, “Ah yes, There’s Mr. Scrooge!” This Tuesday at our weekly staff meeting Scrooge politely interrupted us as he had to walk though the meeting room. At 10 in the morning he was wearing a linen night cap, long underwear and a lovely pleated over coat with paisley print. As he walked through the room he looked at us all and in an English accent said, “You’re all up very early.” Our artistic director explained that the actor was literally becoming Ebenezer Scrooge. Yesterday I was walking out to my car when I saw a jogger coming up the hill (the theater is in the middle of a park). It wasn’t until he got closer that I realized it was Scrooge himself in tiny jogging shorts and with a red sweaty face. “Merry Christmas!” he said to me as I passed. “Merry Christmas” I answer back. Merry Christmas I say and smile inside and out at the small event that has taken place. How many people can say they were leaving work when Ebenezer Scrooge ran by with a “Merry Christmas” in early November. I suppose in the early stages of his transition he is still a kind Ebenezer, but I must say I’m excited for the moment I pass him in the green room and he grumbles or snaps at me. I promise to keep you updated. Good news! I am getting internet in my apartment so hopefully I will be a more frequent writer and not fall into the surplus group of people who started, but never finished. Merry Christmas to you all! Happy Thanksgiving! Happy Birth of Baha’u’llah! And Happy Thursday too.

Ebenezer Scrooge

2005-11-10T13:44:00.000-08:00

Muppets Are a lot More Than Puppets

2005-09-28T11:34:00.000-07:00

So last night Jared and I went to dinner with some friends from his work, Anya and her husband Tom. We are sitting at the Cheesecake Factory, thoroughly engaged in conversation, buttering our bread and waiting for our food, and some how the conversation falls on The Muppets and Jim Henson. Now this delighted me b/c Jim Henson was like my Shakespeare growing up. He was the creative genius behind the most fabulous group of friends any 3-35 year old could ever dream of having. Even being much older and with a much weaker imagination I adore The Muppets and all that they stand for: celebration, joy, team work, adventure, kindness, laughter, acceptance (Gonzo is married to a chicken for Pete's Sake!) and, of course, dreams! imagination! possibilities!!! Ah, I am feeling obligated to sing The Rainbow Connection, but will hold off since I am at work. I could write a paper about Jim Henson and his endeavor to reflect the goodness of the world through the most odd, unlikely, and yet very human, group of characters, but don't worry I won't start that paper today. My point...my point? Where did my point go? Ah, yes, Tom. Well, Tom (Anya's husband who is both very kind and very quirky) started to talk about Fraggle Rock (a Jim Henson classic). He just recently bought the 1st season on dvd and was doing a play-by-play of the episode they most recently watched. So first thing to share is that listening to someone recount a Fraggle Rock episode is one of the most delightful things you'll ever hear. There's references to Gobo and Mokey and Doozers. It's awesome! Second thing, Tom ended his story by saying, "Did you know that Fraggle Rock was Jim Henson's answer to World Peace." And I thought," Yes. Yes, I did know that Fraggle Rock was Jim Henson's answer to World Peace." I mean Jim never told me personally, but the 4 year old me must have known because 4 year olds are actually very, very smart, and I just knew, that I knew, that Fraggles were the answer to all the world's woes. So wake up people!! Don't discredit the little things in life, like a thank you, a smile or a fraggle. It's a great big world out there and we're the Fraggles in someone else's house so be kind, be grateful, and let the music play!

Urgent Declaration

2005-09-21T15:49:00.000-07:00

Have you ever felt the urgent need to declare something to all that will listen, as if it were a civil duty? I DECLARE THAT ARRESTED DEVELOPMENT IS THE BEST SHOW ON TV AND IF YOU DON'T WATCH IT THAN YOU BETTER START BECAUSE IT IS THE BEST SHOW ON TV. Aaah, I feel better now.

A Man in a Hat Waiting for the Bus

2005-09-21T08:18:00.000-07:00

Every morning around 8:15 on my way back from the gym I see a man with a hat waiting for the bus. He’s waiting at the 7Eleven on Montfort and Preston Oaks. He’s wearing nice khaki pants with a button down shirt (usually blue) tucked in neatly, allowing no creases. He has a brown brief case …but old school, more similar to a small suitcase than what we see now. It sits next to him. Then there’s his hat. It’s a fedora with a really wide brim. He looks so dignified waiting for the bus in front of 7Eleven. I want to know where he’s going, looking so sharp and ready to go. Where does he go with that briefcase? Who does he tuck his shirt in for? He stands straight and tall with a hat and a briefcase and something tells me that he does it all for himself. It his own pride that gives him the perfect posture and dignified style. I wish he didn’t ride the bus. I wish that he didn’t have to wait in front of 7Eleven every morning, looking so sharp. But if he didn’t ride the bus every morning I wouldn’t see him standing there, with his hat on his head and the briefcase sitting next to him, reminding me of the power of one. The power an individual has over his own life. The difference one person can make in their own destiny. Fate may decide he has to take the bus, but he decides how he will wait for it. And that’s enough for me. Enough to remind me to be proud of what I’ve got, to work hard for what I want and be patient, stand straight, while waiting in between.

my Big little brother

2005-09-16T14:54:00.000-07:00

Today at lunch I was telling my friends about my brother, and found that I really like talking about him. So I thought it'd be really fun to write about him too. Both of my siblings are really, really cool! They're smart AND funny AND cool. I've known my brother since he was born, but my sister I've only known since I was born so I feel like I'm more an expert on my brother in an older sibling kind of way. My brother used to look like Calvin from Calvin and Hobbs. He had blond spikey hair that would only grow up. My mom used to make up stories about his alter ego who we called Wild Boy Ben. He even had a song. My brother has always been super smart and creative and adventuresome and really, really funny. I like to think that's because he was heavily influenced by his wise and colorful sisters. My brother has always been emotionally intuitive. Always so aware of society's push and pull, always emotionally reacting to that. Hence his considerate nature and easy ability to talk with people AND his tendency to withdraw himself from others. He thinks badly of people ONLY when action requires it. My brother is so connected to human nature that he has always tried to disconnect himself from it. Make himself more independent, more invincible, more detached from the world. He moved up north recently and he's changed a bit. I think he's happier. He's more grounded, more accessible. He hugs more. I'm glad for my brother. Sometimes I think his intelligence got in the way of being able to just enjoy life, but now a days he plays more frisbee, reads more, prays more, takes care of himself, and hangs out with family. So yeah for the family! And yeah for Ben, my little brother who's a little bit wiser, a little bit stronger, and a little more accessible to the world and all its splendor.

Peace in the Inbox

2005-09-14T14:55:00.000-07:00

I’m falling a bit behind. And I feel like I can’t type much if I’m simply writing to acknowledge the fact that I’m falling a bit behind. So briefly I’ll tell you about me desk. I have a yellow camel on my desk beside my computer (I collect camels, so if you have any you’d like to get rid of….). I have a Dallas Theater Center coffee mug from the 1998-1999 Season (I was in high school that year. Go Class of ’99! Saving the Best for Last!). There’s a picture of my family, it’s actually not a very good one b/c my brother looks like a woman and my dad has no beard. My dad always has a beard. One time when I was 7 he shaved his beard and when he came out of the bathroom I started crying b/c I didn’t recognize him (by the way, 7 is an estimate, how am I suppose to remember how old I was). My mom looks a little high in the picture, which is crazy b/c the only time my mom would ever mingle with pot would be if she had an opportunity to knock him out in a boxing ring (or her, pot can be a woman). AND my little cousin is in the background and you can only see half of his face and he used to have pointy ears so he looks a little like an elf in the picture. (Note to self, bring up new picture of family). Also on my desk there is the loveable clown fish, Nemo. This particular Nemo is plastic, he used to be a snow cone holder, but I ate the snow cone and now I use him as a candy jar. I’m very resourceful, as you can see. There’s also an in box, which is empty. Not b/c I’ve done everything that there is to be done, but b/c everything that was in the inbox is now strewn about my desk. At this new job my computer screen is more available to the public eye, so I was a little worried about how I would keep my young, delicate blog growing with such exposure (for those of you wondering why I don’t write at home and do work at work I say shame on you! One must include a bit of creative time while at work, besides I prefer watching tv and lying like a vegetable when at home)…SO! I am currently typing this in a unaddressed email. When done I will cut and paste and wah-la! There will be a new posting in my blog.

Also, someone named Joe visited my blog and left a very nice comment and suggested I visit a website. Well, thanks Joe for visiting, but I do not open websites suggested by strangers. If someone else would like to check it out then I say, Godspeed Magellan! Let me know how your website exploration goes. Peace be upon you all. Peace is inevitable by the way, for those of you losing hope. Ok, back to work.

Ode to the Brazened Woman

2005-09-02T07:17:00.000-07:00

2 entries found for brazen.

bra·zen P Pronunciation Key (brzn)
adj.

Marked by flagrant and insolent audacity. See Synonyms at shameless.
Having a loud, usually harsh, resonant sound: “sudden brazen clashes of the soldiers' band” (James Joyce).
Made of brass.
Resembling brass, as in color or strength

tr.v. bra·zened, bra·zen·ing, bra·zens
To face or undergo with bold self-assurance:

For Amy,

Ode to the Brazened Woman, who lives her life knowing better.
To the woman whose mind will not let her rest, due to her wisdom she knows she knows best. Ode to the Brazened Woman whose heart is an open/close book. Day to day she lives life loudly, but quietly and inside when baited by the wrong kind of hook.
Ode to the Brazened Woman, who can't help but draw life in. Whether she go merrily or wearily, she walks as a mystery to common men.
Ode to My Brazened woman, how she inspires me day to day, raises me day to day and reminds me there are those who are to strong to simply float away.
Ode to My Dear Brazened Woman, who will hit a snare here and there, as this is the risk one takes when they choose to not walk on air, but on this good earth of flesh, where she is herself through and through, where she dares life to bring it, caring only a moment of the harm such spunk will do. She dances on earth insistently and to gravity she pays no heed, for she is a brazened woman, the color of strength indeed.

Fall, Fall!

2005-08-28T14:23:00.000-07:00

Oh how I long for weather below 80 degrees. Oh how I long for colors other than dead dry brown. Oh how I long for the days when I feel good in a pair of jeans and not suffocated. Oh Fall, why do you come so slowly?! How I long for new beginnings, fallen leaves and cool mornings. I long for friday football games, and I never! long for Friday football games. I long for my old neighborhood and how still the streets look Saturday morning, when everyone is either laying low or already at a soccer game. I long for a neighborhood with big trees, far from any highways or shopping centers. I want to be excited about Fall festivities, hay rides and carnivals and homecoming games. Not that I went to any of those things regularly, but they mean something. They are a symbol of sweet time, set snug between wicked summer and heartless winter, where we can feel good in the grass and warm in our clothes and fresh in the air and safe in the night. Fall is a happy dusk, between long day and dark night. Fall is our time of sweet safeness. Sweet safeness in all things old and happy assurance that news things will come. Oh Happy Fall, how sad I am that you are so slow.

Must Keep Going

2005-08-23T14:17:00.000-07:00

In so many ways I am too tired and too distracted to write, but if I don't today then I won't tomorrow and this will just be another abandoned project in the endless plane of neglected sites. SO, like the penguin I march on...I went to a wedding this Saturday. There was food and champagne and people dressed real pretty. They said vows with words like forever and love and cherish and such. There were tears all around and everybody was smiling. Everybody was celebrating this new marriage. We really like to spend lots of money celebrating new marriages, but I think it's wrong to forget about the old ones. Anybody can get married. It's true. Just hang out in Las Vegas for a day (no, I've never been to Las Vegas, but it happened on Friends so it must be true). People fly in, drive in, get lost with bad directions, tweeze their faces, shave their legs, wrap expensive china, all to celebrate something that just about anyone can accomplish.

That same night, at that same wedding the DJ made an announcement that the groom's Uncle Joe and Aunt Somethin'-or-Nother were celebrating their 50th wedding anniversary the very same day. We clapped and they had a whole dance all to themselves while we ate dinner. Then they were forgotten as we watched people eat cake and throw flowers and fling garders (is that words with a t or d?). The thing is that not everyone can stay married for 50 years. In fact, almost half the people in this country can't seem to manage it, and for good reason! It can't be any easy thing to do. I've never done anything for 50 years!! That's half a century. You could probably build something similar to the Great Wall of China in that time...I'm lacking in analogies, but you get the point.

So next time you get the chance to applaud someone for being married 50 years, make sure you clap real hard for them. Make sure you hold on to their achievement as a sign of hope that people, that relationships can last. And when you make it to your 50 years with your significant other, be sure to have a big fat party with song and dance and a homemade video. Invite the people who really mean a lot to you, people who have benefited from those 50 years of marriage and want to celebrate it with you. Be joyful in your accomplishment b/c it's very likely that it will be your greatest. Everest is all good and well, but 50 years of love and family is the fondation of a better world, and this world can always be alittle bit better.

Fame

2005-08-17T13:29:00.000-07:00

Uh-oh...5 comments. This could go to my head and that would be the end of free and uninhibited writing (see 1st post for explanation of bad spelling). Yes, these few posts have been me uninhibited, you got a problem with that? Some people are Courtney Love without restraints and some people are Arthur Dent. Me? I'm Arthur. I was observing Courtnney Love the other day while watching the Friar Club's Roast of Pamela Anderson (will explain THAT in a minute) and I've decided that I would like to be her neighbor. I don't want to go dancing with Courtney love, but I do think she would be fun to borrow sugar from. I don't want to talk to her about boys, but I do want to run into her at 10:30 at night when she is about to go eat dinner and I'm about to fold my last load of whites, watch Letterman and go to bed. If I were to venture out with Courtney one evening I'm certain I would constantly make comments like, "Do you need to sit down, you appear to be dizzy?" or "I think people can see your panties when you sit that way." So, my conclusion is that I would like to be Courtney's trusty dependable neighbor who listens through the wall and looks to see what is lying at Courtney's front door every morning before going to work.

Now, I would briefly like to talk about why I was watching Pamela Anderson's roast and then I must get back to work. It seems that my wonderufl boyfriend suffers from some kind of condition where after 10:00 pm he enjoys watching bad television. Case in point:The Roasting of Pamela Anderson, some people aren't even fun to make fun of. Another example: last summer when I was living in Oklahoma he watched reruns of Full House late into the early morning. Now everybody has a right to watch bad television and everybody does. Just this summer I started watching the OC every Thursday, BUT late at night you should be watching something worth watching, you should be reading to exercise the imagination OR you should be sleeping. You should definately not waste perfectly good time watching The Roast of Pamela Anderson. Mainly b/c bad television right before bed will leak into your subconscious and invade otherwise creative and adventuresome dreams. I am certain that Jared is not the only person with this condition so I type this as a warning to you all: Don't waste another minute watching Real World Inferno. Change the channel to Conan or go to bed. BUT if you can't go to sleep change the channel to VH1, they always have juicey Surreal Life or Celebrity Fit Club reruns. AH! The hypocricy of it all.

We Didn't Start the Fire

2005-08-15T15:15:00.000-07:00

Hmmm....good titles do not make good books or good movies. Case in point: Legally Blond 2. And I have no real subject today, but I wanted a good title. I feel obligated to type out something since it's Monday and my best chances of making this routine is to force to myself do it on terribly droll days like almost-rainy-but-not-quite Mondays such as today. I love this Billy Joel song(see title). Possibly the most overlooked great Billy Joel song ever. It makes a valid point about where blame belongs. We always look to blame others and ever so often we blame ourselves, but what my friend Billy is trying to say in this excellent overlooked song is that there's no one to blame 'cause it's all just part of life, part of the unquenchable flame that burns people up and ignites others. Ah, Billy. How I wish you had a piano in the corner of my bedroom where you could sing to me at night and in the morning. It might be a good move for yourself since staying sober seems to be a challenge. I have no alcohol in my apartment and I would demand a strict routine of sleep and singing to me, which would leave no time for hard liquor or depression.

I'm eating chinese food tonight, but it's not buffet. This is difficult b/c I like everything on the menu and I hate ordering the wrong thing. Sweet and Sour shrimp just doesn't taste as good when you realize what you really wanted was the moo shu pork that your friend is eating. The only thing worse than ordering the wrong thing at a chinese food resturant is trying to eat healthy at a chinese resturant. Am I the only one who has shed tears over a meal of tofu/broccili(that can't be the correct spelling) and brown rice. It's a heart breaking situation, AND the only time that a chinese buffet would be less desirable than an a la cart chinese resturant. Man, am I the only one who's hungry? Am I the only one who reads these postings? In that case I have a confession to make. I am 3.5 homosexual. It's okay. I told my boyfriend last night and we're going to work through it.

In the End

2005-08-11T14:03:00.000-07:00

In Mrs. Bradley's 3rd grade class I became best friends with 2 very different people: the prissy, persistent and passionate Natalie Strey (2 points for alliteration-which is the only term I remember from high school english) AND the quirky, independent, and outrageous Amy Banks. 17 years later we e-mail, call and road trip to keep our friendship staying strong. I will be seeing them both this weekend and I am awed at our ability to sincerely enjoy one another still. Even after the years of geographical distance and life changes we still have an iron steel trust, a forever loyalty and a grand admiration of one another. (I like to write in threes as you can see. I am the middle child of 3 so maybe 3 equals balance for me, who knows). If I could create a recipe that would result in rich friendships it would be posted on the internet for all to see, but there is no recipe to be made. Even if I listed the tradiational ingredients of admiting when you're wrong, forgiving almost immediately and working to stay close (yes, 3 again) so much of it is timing or who you are. My sister and brother have always been my heros, and when I look at the friendships they've had I know they have been fulfilled in their own ways. Not everyone needs a Natalie and Amy and not everyone meets them in 3rd grade and even if you do meet them and have them with you for many important years, some life changes are too great and you can only let go, but hold onto the memories. In the end I can only be glad that we each have worked so hard to be loyal and supportive. I can only be glad that God has watched over us. I can only be glad that their love helps prepare me for what is to come. In the end I can only be glad.

My Passion, Your Boredom

2005-08-09T13:37:00.000-07:00

So my good friend Dean has a blog and he likes to write about sports. I find sports boring, not Dean, and the fact that I've actually completely read each posting (even the one about football) is a credit to his writing. I want to illistrate this point by writing about something I am very passionate about, and that is William Shakespeare. Many people are intrigued by this man and his mysterious existence so I will delve a little deeper into a topic that I love, but will most certainly bore my dear friend Dean. And so I'd like to talk about my favorite of his histories, The Life and Death of Richard the Second. Many prefer Richard III, but I find the conspiracies of the royal court far more griping, the role of the king far more ambiguous (one doesn't know if you should feel pity for him or anger....or which team he bats for) and I adore the stubborn and determined character of the Duchess of York. How nice to find a woman with real stamina in one of his histories. A rarity indeed! I love Shakes ability to confuse the audience. In the beginning you are certain of where your loyalties are and root for strong Bolingbroke, but in the end you are offended by his violence and miss the childlike monarch whose negligence meant despair for a country, but whose death became a martyr in the pursuit of good government and just ends.

NOW! I could go on to talk about the evil Aumerle, but fear someone will fall asleep on their keyboard. I could go on and on and love my little brainstorm, but I won't. At least not anymore today because I need to get back to work. So Dean, you type about Jerry Johnson and I'll type about the Duchess of York and we'll complain about the lack of good Harry Potter dialogue and so on. Goodbye for now. Parting is such sweet sorrow.

me and my moped

2005-07-29T13:47:00.000-07:00

So I am going on a 5 day cruise that departs this Monday. We will be stopping in Jamaica and Grand Cayman. In some ways I don't believe in cruises as a form of vacation, simply b/c one can visit many countries but hardly see them. It's like skimming the surface and I believe in diving into adventure, BUT it seems that I judged too quickly. It turns out that a cruise is a perfect vacation for someone wanting to get away, but lacks the engergy to plan, pack and sleep in transit. Someone lacking in real vacation time, but thirsting to feel exotic and out of reach from the real world. So I wait in anticipation for this remedy to my too-much-to-think-about life and I pack, but without a book, without a conscience. I imagine myself in the ragged, but beautiful island of Jamaica. I am speeding down the not-so-smooth roads, passing tossled neighborhoods and open beaches with fisherman at work. Is this the place I will be seeing or is it something completely different? Life has taught me that it's almost always something completely different, which makes the wait all the more exciting.

when and where

2005-07-28T14:56:00.000-07:00

I have no inspired thoughts, but feel as though it is a new obligation in my life, keeping up with my blog. I have a couple new obligations and this has been the latest. I read the cover of Washington Post in the mornings, to be more in tune with this government that semi effects my life. Today I learned all about the KAFTA bill...opening trade in central america, I think I"m on the fence about this one, but it's only 4:59pm so things might change. I have a great love for the latin american world, especially Honduras where I first drank soda out of a sandwich bag and learned to greet people with a kiss on the cheek (it's very romantic in a casual kind of way). I, naturally, have a strong dislike for sweat shops, but if people are starving to we deny them stale bread b/c it is not good quality. Stale bread is better than no food, right? People need to work, not just for money, but for a sense of usefulness, a sense of neededness. The fathers of those countries drown themselves in alcohol to quiet their lose of pride. BUT this is no way to build up a country, on corruption and exploitation. What drives this bill? Cheap labor, the desire to be popular and falsely worshipped OR the inability to turn our back unprosperess nations...yes, yes I made up that word. Wouldn't it be something, what a difference it would make if companies could inhibit these new lands and pay these new workers the same they would pay every American citizen. Health benefits too. And vacation time. AND sick leave. Wouldn't that be something.

What was I suppose to be typing about today? Ah yes, I was going to say that I had nothing to say, today, but look! look! It turns out I did. I did have something to say today. Something quite special to say just today!...my writing has been compared to Dr. Seuss, but only when I really try.

Blog Discovery

2005-07-27T16:22:00.000-07:00

I have only recently discovered the word blog and what it means. I was watching the Daily Show and John Stewart was talking about Barbra Steisand's blog, and naturally I thought, "what?". Then my friend Dean started a blog, which I visited, he was mainly talking about sports and naturally, I got bored, but I was intrigued. This morning I was checking out the Washington Post and came across an article about Sen. Clinton. She intrigues me in a "I-hope-she's-as-cool-as-she-seems" kinda way so I read the article and found the word BLOG several times. Basically, I found life pointing it's index finger at this peculiar 4 letter word and now I'm here. 55 more minutes of work and I'm typing up my first entry in my very own blog. This could easily be my last entry since I am doubtful that I'll be able to find this spot tomorrow and I have trouble remembering passwords, but am too lazy to write them down, SO the prospect of this being my last entry just makes it all that more exciting. Just a few more words and then I'll be done. I like to pretend that someone might read this at some point(someone rich w/ connections who calls me up and asks me to join the writing team for West Wing) and if that does occur I'm sure they're getting nervous that this is an entry that is actually longer than it looks and not worth all the energy that the eyeball must exude....I know that's not the right use of the word, but I impress myself by using it.
Ok, second and final paragraph. Many years ago I decided that computers were my enemey (see, how I can't spell the word enemy...that's b/c of computers). For someone who is only just now 24 this is a bold decision, I feel. I like it when enemeys surprise you with a softer underbelly and so I would like to say, while computers are still my enemy (I am vacilating between enemey and enemy) I am pleased that they have introduced words like blog and google into the common vocabulary. I am really quite pleased about this. In a world with too many smooth surfaces, sharp corners and cold metal I am glad to see that words, which sound like made up alien talk, are internet lingo used all over the world. It gives me hope that childlike creativity and a good sense of humor may still have an important place in the world. Yes, yes, I am very pleased indeed.