Precious & Red

I'm never quite sure which part of social media to dedicate myself to. When I have an idea I usually stick it on Twitter if it's minor and stupid and fleeting but if it's long and complicated and artsy I'll put it here. Not really sure how to present myself on Tumblr other than through reblogs, but recently I've started following a lot of fellow Mormons who are also of a leftist nature and it's been reassuring.

All of this is just to say I might indulge in some cross-posting of ideas. Not word for word, but tailored for each medium.

I read a quote recently about taking the "preciousness" out of writing if you're going to make a business out of it; like stop thinking the magic can only happen if you're writing in your favorite cafe, listening to your specific playlist, using Word as opposed to Google Docs. Turn writing into something you can do anywhere, anytime, for the sake of your deadlines and productivity. Write at night, write in the morning, write in between classes, write to noise, write to silence, write in the middle of reading, write during a film, etc, etc. I'm slowly working on it, and though the beast within me grinds against the settings so opposed to my usual, my mind is slowly evolving to the comfort of it. Being able to just write the way we're able to just eat. Wherever, whenever.

Once, while driving by myself through Utah, someone ahead of me dropped a bouquet of roses from their passenger side. We were going around 70 mph, and the result was bizarre little red explosions all over the highway, smattering in a wave from that window all the way up to my windshield. It looked so violent, like a car crash without the car, blood everywhere, bloody little petals. The image scared me, unnerving me for several minutes. I was driving back from Seve's brother's play in SLC to our hotel in Provo. I wasn't enjoying the trip very much because we had to coordinate seeing Ben's play around who-could-watch-the-kids-when, and Graham was only a month old, and Utah isn't my favorite place. The image seemed like some bad omen. Until suddenly it wasn't, it was just a beautiful thing I'd just seen, a highway baptism awash in red roses to get me to just be in a better mood already.

I try and remember that whenever I think of Utah, being frustrated, or the color red.

Hong Kong Garden

Some point-and-shoot shots from my time in Hong Kong. The last one is of me sitting at the entrance to the LDS Hong Kong temple.

A strange confession about this year's NaNoWriMo experience: it's made me cry a lot.

Well, twice, but that was quite enough for me. And I wasn't crying because the writing process was daunting or agonizing, and the tears weren't tears of frustration. I cried during the research for my novel, which was in two parts: the research of location and technicalities, and the research of my own personal experience. Rereading journals, etc.

Because my novel is set in Hong Kong, and much of it is based on my experience when I taught English over there for a semester. Remembering everything made me miss it so much, I reduced myself to tears. Just looking at pictures of egg tarts and moon pies makes me tear up, not to mention my old students.

We were warned that me might experience culture shock when we arrived, but I never did. I loved, loved, loved it there. For whatever reason, I felt so ridiculously happy and free. That's sounds silly and cliché, I know, but I really don't know how else to put it. I had just come out of a serious relationship, had just returned to college after a semester away, had just been to my sister's wedding . . . a lot of stuff had been building up at that point, and I let it all to go in China. Like, the minute I stepped off the plane. And it was perfect. (I guess you could say things have been great ever since, because I met Seve a few weeks after returning to the States).

I've never been a very good journal writer. This blog is my journal, I suppose. But for several years, stories were what I wrote down instead of personal experiences. And it's strange, I can reread my old short stories and they bring back all the memories that surround the time period of when I wrote them. So, I even cried a little while rereading the bits I already had for Easy Beauty. Because, in the midst of reading about the way my characters hold hands, I'm suddenly on the HK metro again, or when my protagonist is describing his childhood in Texas, all I can think of is how I wrote that scene after eating at that restaurant with the giant bust of Chairman Mao.

Seve was able to give me a tour of his mission in Ukraine when we were done teaching in Russia, but one day I'd like to take him and my pups to Hong Kong and relive some of my favorite experiences there. But for the time being, that's what finishing Easy Beauty is doing for me.

Twin Falls

When Seve first came to me with the those two words, Twin Falls, I didn't think much of it. We had tossed around two-word cities before; Virginia City, San Francisco, Las Vegas. I found the one word cities more exciting, like Memphis or Baltimore, because they were new, in the east or south where our palettes had never tasted before. But each word we uttered, whether single or in pairs, resulted in an empty interview and false hopes for the future. So we taught ourselves to stop hoping, and just wait. The right word would come. And we were perfectly happy and prepared to stick around in our current one word, Portland.

But two weeks ago those two words came rushing forward and swept us up in a whirlwind move that had us packed and taking off before I even realized what was happening. Now, here we suddenly are - a new apartment, all the boxes finally unpacked (or hiding in closets) and surrounded by that dry wind I only know in Idaho. Never did I think we'd end up back here, and we know it's only another pitstop in the roadtrip of teaching and grad school and more babies and all those dreams coming true we have for ourselves, but who knows? Maybe Idaho's swallowed us up after all.

Sorry I haven't posted in such a long time, or commented on your posts. Between my Aunt Valerie's funeral, a family trip to Texas, and the move to Twin Falls, my feet are only now just finding the ground, much less my fingers finding a keyboard.

In other news . . . how about that new Cat Power album? And that St. Vincent & David Byrne collaboration that came out two days ago? My ears couldn't be happier.

Sans sun

Though I'd prefer not to Instagram dump in a blog post, the fact is that I lugged my camera all the way to the beach and didn't take a single picture. Also, though ocean spray and sand were definitely present, the sun was not. But a grey, Oregon beach is a surreal, dreamy beach, isn't it? Fish & chips at the Sail Inn Cafe was great too, where two old men ranted and raved about today's technology ("It's called Skype. And here's how it works, Bill: it's just like me talking to you right now. Face to face. Face to face, Bill!")

How happy am I that Instagram is FINALLY available for Android? I'll be a lot happier when I have a phone that's up-to-date and can actually use the app. Good thing it's my birthday in 9 days.

All photos via my darling (I said it) brother-in-law Ben. Are you on Instagram? Tell me now.

All the Pretty Horses

Once on a job application I listed that I was good at telling jokes. The job was to work as an Activities Coordinator at the Jackson Lake Lodge in the Grand Teton National Park, Wyoming. Though I never imagined joke-telling would come up in the interview process, I should have known that being so cheeky on my application would come back to bite me. So when asked to tell my best joke, I suddenly reverted back to my 8 year old self.

Why did the toilet paper roll down the hill?

To get to the bottom.

Luckily, my soon-to-be new boss cracked up and hired me then and there, and I was soon advizing the good guests of Yellowstone's sister park on what were the best day hikes around Jackson Lake and the best BBQ in Jackson (Bubba's, just so you know).

Oh, and above are some photos from a personal art project I'm doing featuring the world's tiniest gang of plastic Mustangs. Here they are galloping across my entry table! I'll be documenting their journey through my home and other such places, so keep your eyes peeled for their antics and watch where you step - they're only just over an inch tall.

BOI to PDX

We finally made it to Portland after what felt like a completely hectic and harebrained moving process. Now that we're all settled and everything's in its place it's easy to look around and feel like the move itself was nothing more than a bad dream. Ace Ventura and marionberry ice cream help, too. Bloggies and The Daily Simon (to those who receive it) to resume shortly.

Shadow people go

The move to Portland approaches. It's crept into our lives in the form of boxes stacked high in our living room and our refrigerator becoming bare. We already feel like we're there since it's been raining nonstop here in Boise - but I'm more than ready to leave Idaho behind and start our new chapter. Though it feels like I'm backtracking since I lived in Portland for several years before moving to Idaho.

We're not laying down permanent stakes in Portland; the move is temporary. We're housesitting for family and building a nest egg for the Next Big Step. Seve is still applying all over the country now that he's graduated and finished his student teaching. An opportunity in North Carolina just closed, but I think we're fine with that. I personally hope we end up in one of the opportunities in Memphis, or Baltimore. I'm ready for something completely new for our little family. And it will be nice to give Simon a sense of permanence, since I moved all the time as kid, being a military brat and all. But, then again, that shaped me to enjoy a good move - from South Korea to Nevada and then some. I want him to feel comfortable in some globe-trotting shoes, too (so perhaps we'll do Harlem, heh heh).

Sans Josephine

So, everybody: I finally got a new camera! It feels so good to finally accomplish what I want in photography. Or at least come close to it. I'm having a lot of fun learning and tinkering around. And I've named her Annie, of course.

I "earned" Annie by trading in old hobbies for new ones, i.e. selling my guitars for this Nikon and lens. While it was hard to let my favorite guitar go (Josephine, as detailed in the previous post) I didn't want to develop the bad habit of hanging on to expensive hobbies by way of storing them in the closet solely for sentimental reasons, knowing full well I wouldn't return to them. I worry my longboards will reach this status someday, only the upcoming summer will tell.

Oh, and we're moving to Portland. (!!!)

A Day at the Beach

Hope y'all had a Merry Christmas. We sure did.

I don't have Instagram, I have Vignette for Android

There are so many things I've been excited to blog about: the Christmas tree farm and the beautiful tree we got, Simon's first visit to Santa, the ugly sweater party we had last night, the possible places we could be moving for Seve's new job . . . there's just so much and I'm too overwhelmed to document it all, but you know, in a good way.

Growing up, I was a total Scrooge when it came to Christmas. I hated winter and missed the fall, I hated the combo of red and green, I hated carols, I hated Jingle All The Way . . . I hated what I called "Santa Christmas" and was "that girl" when it came to complaining about the real "reason for the season." I promised myself that no kid of mine was going to grow up with Santa, at all. It was the semester I spent abroad in China that changed my mind. Aside from already missing family, the roommates I had loved all things Christmas and built a fireplace out of construction paper and hung stockings for each of us when the season rolled around. It was so . . . magical, I don't know. There was plenty of "Santa Christmas" in China (Wham's Last Christmas played in every shop we went into), so it wasn't missing its absence that changed my mind about it. I think I just finally came into my own during that time and lost some of my uptight-ness. Anyway, having a family now makes Christmas that much more magical as I can't wait to share it all with Simon. Santa and all.

Predicament

Seve and I were to be moving this weekend, but it might be postponed. It's a long story that I'd rather not bore you with, but suffice it to say that we're waiting on move-in approval for our new place that will definitely take us by next week, we were just hoping for this weekend since Seve starts teaching this week . . . so he'll be going on ahead while I wait here for a week, until he can pick me up (and our moving van with all our stuff) next weekend and we can finally, finally, finally move.

When I first received this news I was really flustered, but now I'm seeing it as a good thing. One more week with the people I'm about to miss terribly in the apartment and town I've fallen in love with and I'm sad to leave behind? Well, all right, if I must.

Behind your eyes, the holiday

Florida, oh, Florida.

We watched the first sun rise of the new year from the shores of Fort Lauderdale. We spent our anniversary in Key West, and carved our names in the Autograph Tree.

We ate alligator tail, and key lime everything. We spent Christmas and New Year's with Seve's family, we watched dolphins and sea lions perform tricks in Miami, we saw tiny blue jellyfish scattered along the shores of the east coast. We came, we saw, we shopped(!), we slept in. We were warm, we were well fed, we were happy.

But, most importantly, we were lazy.

It is so great to be lazy.


What what? A new layout? Already? Oh, Jules, you're so restless.

Down down baby down by the roller coaster

I know what you're thinking. JULES ITZ TOTES NOT SUMMER WTF WITH THE BEACH PICTURE OMG.

Ever since it was made official that Seve and I will be going to Florida for Christmas, it's all I can think about. Rexburg's snowy winter slush is nothing compared to my white sand euphoria. In anticipation for the trip, I've been enjoying surfy beachy trippy music rather than Christmas tunes. The Drums, Heavy Hawaii, and the Cults dominate my playlist. Don't worry, I won't pretentiously name drop and leave you empty handed. Dream with me now:

Sh*t my coworker says

So so busy. Work + NaNo have me writing writing writing. I shouldn't even be taking this blog break. I love this Barnaby Ward sketch as it's a good reflection of my mind right now. Just busy and cluttered. But I'm getting everything done! That's what counts. Seve's incredibly busy too. Read: TWO PLAYS AT THE SAME TIME. Plus school. Crazy.

Oh, and we're officially going to Florida for Christmas! Didn't think it would be possible, but my Mum and Bum-in-law have very generously secured the trip for us. Trying to think of how on earth I can ever repay them for their kindness.

Also, I was daydreaming about how funny it'd be to have a "fashion blog" dedicated to people in pajamas and sweatpants, but in really sexy poses and pretty photo shoot settings. They'd act like it's real fashion, and list where they got each item. Winnie the Pooh onesie - $15 - Walmart.

And OH YES Halloween was fantastic! Though Seve's "Proud to be an American" t-shirt drew a fine line between Garth and Joe Dirt. Luckily, Trent scrawled "Aerosmith" over it.

k TIME TO WRITE MORE bai.

Did I ever tell you I'm on Team Edward?

via

Just so you know: my job requires me to write everyday. Everyday I'm writing either a blog post, an article, a news release, a case study . . . you get the idea. And sometimes, my mind is just too fried to write. I write for a tech company and truth be told, I don't know tech that well. I now know it phenomenally better than I did eight months ago, but still, I'm at the amateur end of the spectrum.

That's why I love this blog. It's my release from this techy guru world I've been thrown into.

So, updates:

-I never got to tell you about my trip to Philadelphia. Well, it was hilarious. Story time: we went to Pat's for some authentic philly cheesesteak. It's the "King of Steaks" and apparently Larry King and N*Sync have eaten there. Not together, I presume. It's not even a sit-down restaurant, but a largish outdoor stand with a line that wraps around the building for all the eager cheese steak-eaters. The line moves incredibly fast, and there's a sign by the order window that says READ THE MENU KNOW WHAT YOU WANT HAVE YOUR MONEY READY OR YOU'LL BE KICKED OUT OF LINE. Something like that. Are you familiar with Soup Nazi? Good. So, the people at Pat's are Steak Nazi's. I anticipated this (thanks to said sign) and had my order and money ready to go, so I got my sandwich and was on my way. My coworker, who will go unnamed, was not ready and let the fear and intimidation of Pat's get to him and accidentally stuttered out that he wanted "cheesecake" instead of "cheesesteak" and was kicked out of line. FUNNY. Don't worry, my other coworker ordered a second sandwich for him.

-Texas! Just got back and had a great time with family . . . not much else to add because, truth be told, I'm not of a fan of Amarillo and really only visit to see my family. There's not much to do in Amarillo and there are NO longboarding hills to speak of so Seve and I are glad to be back in hilly, green, lush Idaho and all the longboarding it has to offer.

-Denver Airport. Known for its delays. Our flight got delayed which made us arrive in Salt Lake close to midnight, thus missing our shuttle back to Rexburg thus having to stay a night in Salt Lake THUS blowing money on a hotel that needed to be spent on car insurance. Denver Airport: I do not <3 you.

And, uh, that's all.