tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-51939092011-04-21T17:09:44.289-04:00Jillianhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14262690296962981254noreply@blogger.comBlogger621100tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5193909.post-1086912275348293682004-06-10T19:52:00.000-04:002004-06-10T20:04:35.346-04:00

Hot Juicy Breathless Bla Bla actually has more than bla bla! (in my humble opinion) Beautiful Stuff revolves around things literary and he's going to open a bookstore. One of my 10-year-old notions was to run a bookstore, but I really just want to be in a room full of books. I wouldn't really want to do all that other stuff you have to do to own a store. So I will vicariously read through

Jillianhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14262690296962981254noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5193909.post-1086650390536434632004-06-07T18:23:00.000-04:002004-06-07T19:21:56.193-04:00

While there was theater of the grotesque, so was indeed there dance of the grotesque. Of course, since I'm currently researching German Expressionism from the modern dance perspective, I feel I must share at least an ounce of the cerebral weight my head is trying to consume. And since I just saw Supersize Me last week, the image of the guy spewing out his car window twenty minutes after eating

Jillianhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14262690296962981254noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5193909.post-1086303651420135402004-06-03T18:55:00.003-04:002004-06-03T19:08:09.276-04:00

Sylvatica remains busy as ever, and I'm trying to fill my days as best as I can. Today involved an excursion to the Montague Book Mill where I drank natural rootbeer on a patio next to a stunning, noisy waterfall, nearly bought a copy of Angels & Insects by Byatt and attempted to read some sections on Jung's theories on Alchemy (no, don't try!). I fast walked 2 miles and burned 321 calories on

Jillianhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14262690296962981254noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5193909.post-1086205397448875172004-06-02T15:23:00.000-04:002004-06-02T15:43:17.450-04:00

Working at a Pil.ates studio in town, I enjoy eavesdropping on private lessons. First of all, if you've seen these teachers do the swan exercise on the equipment, you'd know why. It's stunning to watch how they've trained their bodies to lift off the ground with such effortlessness and efficiency. It may be a bit hedonistic of me to enjoy the sheer aesthetic, but all the same, I do. Another

Jillianhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14262690296962981254noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5193909.post-1086113788591702222004-06-01T13:53:00.000-04:002004-06-01T14:16:28.590-04:00

Hey! Yeah! New site. Thank ya to J. Wonderguy. Anyway, needed a design that said, hey, this blogger nearly shatters into millions of little pieces all the time. But it's not quite that dramatic -she likes to think she holds it together like that chic on the masthead -- gracefully -- not like Michael Jac.kson. If Jenny Cra.ig can, she can. No holding on by the pinky here. (Practicing art of

Jillianhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14262690296962981254noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5193909.post-1086112048566898442004-06-01T13:23:00.000-04:002004-06-01T13:52:06.673-04:00

Have a lot of time on my hands, so I've been watching shows like Entertainment Tonight. Like sneaking peaks at People in the grocery store line, I get sucked into Hollywood gossip (what's wrong with me?) This story on Jenny Craig freaked me out. Here's her one regret. "I would not have gone to sleep on that couch," she says recalling the regretful accident. "I fell asleep and my head fell

Jillianhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14262690296962981254noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5193909.post-1084373159764934842004-05-12T10:16:00.000-04:002004-05-31T21:03:35.636-04:00

Traveled to Iowa (unexpectedly pretty), brother got married, I got sloshed (threw up) and mom's book made its debut. We go into book stores and turn hers out -- if we could, we'd remove all the Grisham's latest paperbacks and refill the displays with mom's. However, we're not quite brave or hoodlum enough. I'm not sure which it is. On the wedding side of things -- well, it was beautiful.

Jillianhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14262690296962981254noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5193909.post-1082335484990922202004-04-18T20:44:00.000-04:002004-05-31T20:49:37.670-04:00

I keep breaking down after I teach. It's a new and lovely phase of life -- like dabbing in the water only to find there is an ocean -- so much to learn. I may have cried buckets learning different lessons from children. They see right through you; they need you to hold it together, to let go, to have fun AND provide structure. Yahhhhhhh!! When learning to teach, this synthesis is completely

Jillianhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14262690296962981254noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5193909.post-1082083866616642342004-04-15T22:51:00.000-04:002004-04-18T20:39:34.200-04:00

Editorial #2: Pop Jessica Alba gets her groove on in a horrible movie -- Honey. I like to temper "art" with my pop culture. Our jazz class watched this today and we are suppose to write about our "visceral response" to the hip hop dancing. Uhhhhhhhh. One critic's response to this movie puts it quite well in his lead: "I'd like to begin with a moment of silence in honor of the part of my

Jillianhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14262690296962981254noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5193909.post-1082082864923439602004-04-15T22:34:00.000-04:002004-04-15T22:55:31.750-04:00

Editorial #1: High Art A group of us grad students and J went to NYC to see Compagnie Maguy Marin. I was ready to see the latest European dance theater in all its greatness. Yes! This is the pinnacle!! I want to make work that reaches the level of thoughtful critical acclaim that this company has gotten. Hell, even their statement of "desire" on their website sounds way cool and hip. Words

Jillianhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14262690296962981254noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5193909.post-1079823501297359162004-03-20T17:58:00.000-05:002004-03-20T18:07:00.903-05:00

Churches J and I have plans to photograph and frame them. We simply like them and they change from city to city. On a road trip this summer through eastern U.S., we kept paying more and more attention to them. In Texas, they usually weren't anything to turn our heads. Maybe this has something to do with not really looking at the place where you've lived for so long. An understanding of

Jillianhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14262690296962981254noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5193909.post-1079551918580096622004-03-17T14:31:00.000-05:002004-03-17T14:57:34.810-05:00

Elusive People We know who they are. They're usually pretty, intelligent, witty and they say things that make you melt into a puddle. Drip, drip, drip, drip. Down we go into mush. However, this does not mean we can always get to know these kinds of people. Perhaps we can, but only if it is meant to be -- mysteriously so. In my quest to connect (as E.M. Forester so efficiently and

Jillianhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14262690296962981254noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5193909.post-1079550240592855342004-03-17T14:04:00.000-05:002004-03-17T14:07:14.466-05:00

Six Feet Under I just discovered it, in all its glory. J and I rented the 1st season (v 1) last night. My favorite part so far: Dad is already dead. Mom freaks out -- pot roast flung across kitchen already. Daughter can't eat the next morning when mom brings food to her room. She says so. Mom replies, "We're not dead. We have to eat." Then she puts a plate of food on a bedside table, closes

Jillianhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14262690296962981254noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5193909.post-1079293955837735032004-03-14T14:52:00.000-05:002004-03-14T14:56:44.263-05:00

Therapy Session for Us Sad People Mom once told me -- in the entryway between the kitchen and the dining room -- that happiness is not a state of being. If I remember correctly, she was defending her sadness when I tried to cheer her up. She sagged heavily in the shoulders, her sternum so soft and her ribs wide enough for only shallow breathing. Breath mom, and tomorrow, it can't possibly be

Jillianhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14262690296962981254noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5193909.post-1079195768517752682004-03-13T11:36:00.000-05:002004-03-13T11:45:54.733-05:00

When shitty things happen, they always happen in plural. For instance, you might have not one event, but a string of events tied to, oh, let's say money. And so it goes . . . The bank erroneously debits a large chunk of change from your savings for child support. You don't have children. Your credit card company mysteriously drops your automatic withdrawls. What? The bank cashes your check

Jillianhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14262690296962981254noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5193909.post-1079062752635466462004-03-11T22:39:00.000-05:002004-03-11T22:46:19.746-05:00

Privacy Myth Intrigued with this idea that we hold privacy too dearly, at least in terms of finding and unburdening through expressive means. I read about it in Ruth Zaporah's Action Theater. In her opinion, we uphold the privacy myth in our belief that we have "limited material" (aka secrets) and that we'll be empty if we let go of it. In essence, if we let go of the secret, than what makes

Jillianhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14262690296962981254noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5193909.post-1078873115689084242004-03-09T17:58:00.000-05:002004-03-09T18:01:38.483-05:00

Gore/Pain/Vastus I've been having gory dreams lately. The other night I kept running a scene over and over again. A man's body was pinned under a truck. And then I had this dream that I was traveling underneath some sort of fleshy, peach skin. It rippled like cooked bologna. Anyone know what cooked bolgna looks like? It gets all warped and sweaty with oil or fat or something. (Why do I

Jillianhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14262690296962981254noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5193909.post-1078872348304967952004-03-09T17:45:00.000-05:002004-03-09T17:49:26.013-05:00

It Snowed Yesterday . . . AND Today No.

Jillianhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14262690296962981254noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5193909.post-1078677724000629272004-03-07T11:42:00.000-05:002004-03-09T17:49:04.513-05:00

I took a walk to the news stand this morning. The ground is finally there. Even some of the grass is green. I took to stomping on ice that refuses to melt. The first winter here in New England was better than any I ever had in Texas. What I like most about it is the end and the beginning, when change is more apparent. The pond on campus freezes; the pond on campus melts. In another month,

Jillianhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14262690296962981254noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5193909.post-1077478151484280402004-02-22T14:29:00.000-05:002004-03-07T11:47:01.810-05:00

Main Entry: nog·gin Pronunciation: 'nä-g&n Function: noun Etymology: origin unknown 1 : a small mug or cup 2 : a small quantity (as a gill) of drink 3 : a person's head (From Merriam-Webster Online) I guess we also refer to peoples' faces as mugs . . . when did a cup become a head? Maybe people banged small cups on heads and realized hey, he's got a small head like my noggin. You've gotta

Jillianhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14262690296962981254noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5193909.post-1077231030860029422004-02-19T17:50:00.000-05:002004-02-19T17:55:39.110-05:00

Well, Yeah, Hello Again It's been forever and no one is reading and this is the best time to start writing again -- when no one is watching. I'm less self conscious. I'm free. I'm more likely to be real. We'll see how long this lasts. I'm about to step into rehearsal, and had a pocket of time to write. Reading J and Em's blogs made me get the urge again. To be honest, I got a little bit

Jillianhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14262690296962981254noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5193909.post-1061658103761895102003-08-23T13:01:00.000-04:002003-08-23T13:02:58.526-04:00

“Pain is weakness leaving your body.” This was the screensaver on my old boss's computer. I discovered this in a staff meeting while he led a powerpoint presentation. The first time the computer idled, I saw it projected on the wall and wasn't sure I read it correctly. The second time, I knew it and started giggling. This was the only time I ever got even a fluster out of my boss. We all

Jillianhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14262690296962981254noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5193909.post-1061657719985109432003-08-23T12:55:00.000-04:002003-08-23T12:55:19.803-04:00

My Whiner Story I played first base once. Such a position was too much for a six year-old to handle, especially for the cryer type. I got the well-ups after nearly every mistake. I remember one incident that made my parents reconsider my playing little league softball. Inevitably a grounder slipped past me. Honestly, I nearly had it – could even feel the ball hit the end of my glove. I

Jillianhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14262690296962981254noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5193909.post-1061160025422310692003-08-17T18:40:00.000-04:002003-08-17T18:40:25.326-04:00

Getting some direction Given that I've had nearly 2 months away from my old job and the blog, I thought it might now be time to focus a little here. (And I feel proud to write that I no longer earn a living as an arts administrator. Though it's an admirable field, it ain't for me. So long). So, I am now full-time student – getting my Masters of Fine Arts (MFA). I am thus poor and rich at the

Jillianhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14262690296962981254noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5193909.post-1061159230004769862003-08-17T18:27:00.000-04:002003-08-17T18:37:04.420-04:00

Rising, falling and changing décor I was about 12 when I realized the out-of-body experience is possible. It wasn’t an experience that came out of a discipline and I didn't see it as prophetic. I also never went out of my body again. (except in dreams) I just sat alone in my room where it was quiet and looked at one leg crossed over the other. I wondered if my soul could have ever been in a

Jillianhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14262690296962981254noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5193909.post-1061158910550223502003-08-17T18:21:00.000-04:002003-08-17T18:25:28.553-04:00

Uh, went to Chicago. Now I’m in Massachusetts I said I’d report on Chicago. Obviously, that was a month ago. Let’s see, I do remember we didn’t make it to a Cubs game. Stand-by tickets were way too expensive. So we went vintage shopping. I know, there is no correlation, but it was fun all the same and it took us from Wrigleyville to Lincoln Park. We got in a sizeable walk and got to see a

Jillianhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14262690296962981254noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5193909.post-959951452003-06-24T18:09:00.000-04:002003-08-17T18:23:32.973-04:00

Ninja On the Road J and I hit the road in The People's Altima (which is short of three hub caps. Does anyone know of any old Altima NOT missing a hub cap?). I woke up yesterday morning worried that I'd be late to work. Then I remembered. Oh, yeah, I'm unemployed now and NYC bound. We're now in Springfield, MO with good friends Billie, Em and their twin white kitties December and Beltane. Of

Jillianhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14262690296962981254noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5193909.post-956924232003-06-15T16:06:00.000-04:002003-06-15T16:18:19.000-04:00

Returning to undergraduate days and a Jane Austen Seminar I had a really cool professor whose name now alludes me, but he taught my thesis course on Jane Austen. And while I didn't like every novel she wrote, Austen really got me all psyched up about being a female who noticed the world she'd been given and didn't get all bent out of shape about it. She just wrote about and noted some

Jillianhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14262690296962981254noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5193909.post-956911922003-06-15T15:05:00.000-04:002003-06-15T16:15:43.000-04:00

Soapy Fado Songs from a Full Moon Friday First performance now done, I took half the day off. I decided to clean the house and do the laundry. Chores never cease, but a clean house (at least I keep thinking this) is a great place to sit down, drink tea, read, write or sit on my ass without having to think about what little chores need doing. The catch is, I have to clean it first, which is

Jillianhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14262690296962981254noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5193909.post-955550642003-06-11T12:46:00.000-04:002003-06-11T12:52:47.000-04:00

Angry Options After unnerving tech rehearsal . . . listening for instruction from director in black land of audience while blaring lights blind you in mid extension; accommodating blamer-dancer-girl telling you which direction to spin out; keeping correct spacing among dancers between four poles that reduce the company's dancing space to a 10’ X 10’ box; dealing with the passive-aggressive nature

Jillianhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14262690296962981254noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5193909.post-953437792003-06-05T17:27:00.000-04:002003-06-05T17:32:27.000-04:00

Some Women in the News Martha now has her own site to claim her innocence and reclaim her "good name." You can write her -- maybe give her some moral support? (sure) Serena Williams cried and made accusations toward Heggin after losing at the French Open. Female suicide bomber killed 18 in North Ossetia region of Russia. While I must admit that women are making progress these days, I find it

Jillianhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14262690296962981254noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5193909.post-949457622003-05-27T12:21:00.000-04:002003-05-27T12:23:35.000-04:00

Addendum to True-Crime-Story Addiction Coming back after a long weekend to the cyber journal, I'm a little surprised by my last post. Who's the chic getting high on intellectualizing over murder and psychopaths? Ah, well, maybe we're all schizophrenic in mild ways. Voices fighting to get out, that's all. Last week I lost sleep over words from a psychopath. This week I'm thinking of Elizabeth

Jillianhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14262690296962981254noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5193909.post-947883472003-05-23T11:04:00.000-04:002003-05-23T11:14:34.000-04:00

Confession: I’m true crime addict; I even like the really gory parts I’ve read Severed:The True Story of the Black Dhalia by John Gilmore two times now, and last night was riveted a third time by reading the transcript of the supposed perp’s retelling of the killing of Elizabeth Short. In my little repertoire of reading, there’s little that equals the grizzly voice of criminal Arnold Smith aka

Jillianhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14262690296962981254noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5193909.post-943931352003-05-15T11:07:00.000-04:002003-05-15T11:20:55.000-04:00

Wedding Make-over In one of my recent dreams, I re-imagined my wedding. Crystal, gold, chandeliers, high Roman ceilings, a cacophony of voices reverberating off marble walls. An orchestra behind the podium. Really rich and decadent (almost to the point of being trashy, it was so royal doily-like). John (the husband of our pastor, and who is himself a pastor as well) officiated. Strangely

Jillianhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14262690296962981254noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5193909.post-942261972003-05-12T17:28:00.000-04:002003-05-12T17:46:01.000-04:00

Captain Kirk and wife’s relationship went really wrong somewhere along the way. Shatner's ex-wife sues over horse semen. (found the link on The Talent Show.) KICK ASS. You make some healthy cash horse breeding – good thing. Then there comes a time when you and hubby don’t get along anymore. Divorce. Oops. But this is NOT going to get Mrs. Shatner down, no way. With the judicial system

Jillianhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14262690296962981254noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5193909.post-938214532003-05-05T16:50:00.000-04:002003-05-05T16:51:42.000-04:00

Worshipping perfection (this Swan Song is necessary) I drove down to Houston to see a good friend in Swan Lake, produced by a local and pretty accomplished ballet academy. This performance was the chance for students to share their talent with friends, fam and maybe some community at large (though not likely). I strained in watching them. Don’t get me wrong, what they’re doing onstage is so

Jillianhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14262690296962981254noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5193909.post-936554262003-05-02T11:32:00.000-04:002003-05-12T17:29:34.000-04:00

Paying Homage to the USA Film Festival in Dallas Of Boobs and Blood (from Dallas Observer ) relates the plight of filmaker Lloyd Kaufman. The B-Moviemaker fights corporate entertainment monguls -- you know them so read it with me, AOL Time Warner, Viacom and Disney. He also promotes CHEAP movie-making and bought the Roan Group film library, a collection of old thin-budget movies with the likes

Jillianhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14262690296962981254noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5193909.post-936288432003-05-01T22:06:00.000-04:002003-05-01T22:16:19.000-04:00

Hung around lots of rich people today Or really, I just ran some errands for them. Here's some observations. “Don’t let the car fool you. My treasure is in heaven.” Bumper sticker on back of Lexus SUV sited in Carrollton (burb of Dallas) Porcelain doll the size of a real child in store window. Doll having tea by herself with genuine, imported mini English Tea Set. She’s sitting on a “dainty

Jillianhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14262690296962981254noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5193909.post-935945502003-05-01T10:04:00.000-04:002003-05-01T10:04:00.690-04:00

At Work Fluorescence. White noise. Tick of keypads. Air conditioning too cold. Starbucks. Pop of air from coke can. “You have 2 new messages.” Press 2 & 4 together, then 3, door will open. Post-it reads “reconcile 3380-50-Capital.” 8:58 a.m. Good Morning.

Jillianhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14262690296962981254noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5193909.post-935593802003-04-30T18:57:00.000-04:002003-04-30T19:14:25.000-04:00

Oh-How-I- Love-Googling Searched “Jean Houston” (b/c this chic wrote The Possible Human) found this interview with The Watchman - they don’t like Houston, which is okay- but that led me to question the values of Fellowship of the Watchman (see post below) went back to google found this article from the mag What Is Enlightenment, where Houston reveals that she believes she has the same “psychic

Jillianhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14262690296962981254noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5193909.post-934166562003-04-28T15:32:00.000-04:002003-04-30T18:45:29.000-04:00

Your Personality Assessment Cheat Sheet Alright, we've all probably taken one of these at one time or another. I'm here to bring them back and then wonder why the hell I feel compelled by what surveys have to offer. Are you an idealist, a rational, an artisan or guardian? The Keirsey Sorter will let you know. Are you ISTJ? An ENFP? (there are 14 other combinations) Take the

Jillianhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14262690296962981254noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5193909.post-934126592003-04-28T14:15:00.000-04:002003-04-30T19:04:09.000-04:00

Some poetry A lament or a celebration. However you see it. FAMOUS The river is famous to the fish. The loud voice is famous to silence, which knew it would inherit the earth before anybody said so. The cat sleeping on the fence is famous to the birds watching him from the birdhouse. The tear is famous, briefly, to the cheek. The idea you carry close your bosom is famous to your bosom.

Jillianhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14262690296962981254noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5193909.post-934036292003-04-28T11:27:00.000-04:002003-04-28T14:19:28.000-04:00

Here’s the problem: dance performance (90% of the time) bores the hell out of me. The other problem remains: I’ve decided that’s what I want to take on. I suppose that’s why many people decide to pursue what they pursue. They’re bored to tears and figure something needs to be done about that. This weekend included a dance festival, wherein our dance company suffered through watching one

Jillianhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14262690296962981254noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5193909.post-931927032003-04-24T14:53:00.000-04:002003-04-24T15:33:28.000-04:00

The Watchman Fellowship: Apologetics Ministry This organization plays an interesting game. They claim to be a non-coercive organization but here are their foundational truths: 1) The Bible, inerrant as originally given, is God's verbally inspired, complete revelation to mankind. 2) There is one God, who is infinitely holy and perfect, existing eternally in the Persons of the Father, the Son,

Jillianhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14262690296962981254noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5193909.post-931924042003-04-24T14:47:00.000-04:002003-04-24T14:58:04.000-04:00

Evidently I'm in a pissy mood today This is a ridiculous article. Does an elite college education pay? Will we ever get an education because we’re hungry to learn? If we choose the Ivy League because we think we’re going to get higher earnings with the status, that’s fine and dandy. But REALLY. Do we need to read about what kind of degrees have higher earning stats and how student aptitude

Jillianhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14262690296962981254noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5193909.post-927791002003-04-17T10:32:00.000-04:002003-04-17T10:53:10.000-04:00

Ron is no cockroach Ron of Ron’s Towing saved my prissy ass yesterday. The gas gauge, I will say on my behalf, does not work. I count the miles in order to know when to fill up again. I was not at the regular 300 miles yet, but my Saturn choked and spit to a stop. With the heat of Spring, my mileage had lost it’s former greatness. Thank God the car gave out at a stop sign. I put my hazards

Jillianhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14262690296962981254noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5193909.post-926780752003-04-15T18:43:00.000-04:002003-04-24T14:37:20.000-04:00

Little children do such nice things for gross creatures Fisherman's 4-Year-Old Son Liberates Bait INTERNATIONAL FALLS, MN—During a fishing trip Monday, Jason Jorgensen, the 4-year-old son of International Falls fisherman Bill Jorgensen, liberated an entire styrofoam container of nightcrawlers, throwing the bait into Rainy Lake. "Run, wormies, run!" said Jorgensen as he gave the former bait its

Jillianhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14262690296962981254noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5193909.post-926658322003-04-15T14:51:00.000-04:002003-04-15T14:51:47.796-04:00

Deja vous – forget my spelling it correctly I had a deja vous moment. I was leaving the office, and I always pass Rachel’s office, so it’s a wonder that I haven't had deja vous more often. It's all about that daily grind: same routine day in/day out. Walking past Rachel, I thought “wow, she’s the nicest person I’ve ever met. I wonder if she gets tired of nice.” Then I looked down at my

Jillianhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14262690296962981254noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5193909.post-926081452003-04-14T17:45:00.000-04:002003-04-14T17:59:43.000-04:00

Sacred text used for political action Alright, so I'm gung-ho on my feminine earth talk. I figure, why stop? I write down all of these ideas not to slight the masculine or to feel a pseudo-superior as WO-man. Men are great. As Renee Zelweger put it so eloquently in Jerry Maguire at the the women's divorce group, "They may be the enemy, but I love the enemy." Bleh. Love the movie, hate that

Jillianhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14262690296962981254noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5193909.post-924410042003-04-11T13:58:00.000-04:002003-04-11T14:10:41.000-04:00

Body and Earth/Bhudda Talk I continue to expand the reading list and am adding to it the wisdom of Andrea Olsen and her book Body and Earth. Apparently, this book came out of the inter-disciplinary teachings of Olsen at Middlebury College in Vermont. She's a professor of dance and on faculty in the Environmental Studies program there. Body and Earth is a course in the ecology of the earth

Jillianhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14262690296962981254noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5193909.post-924390392003-04-11T13:20:00.000-04:002003-04-11T14:04:45.000-04:00

Tulia Case Jeffrey directed me to WorkingForChange and Arianna Huffington. With regard to the Tulia convictions in Texas, Huffington had this to say. Maybe the White House should focus on a genuinely pernicious form of affirmative action: the special treatment blacks get when it comes to jail admissions. Given the obssession lately over African American candidates at Univ. of Michigan, it's

Jillianhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14262690296962981254noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5193909.post-919281472003-04-03T13:29:00.000-05:002003-04-15T18:37:03.000-04:00

All Things William web site includes women too Here, I found the great quotes from the great Wills. Faulkner, Shakespeare, Dubois, William "Johnny" Carson, yadayadayada. I love these guys, but am always feeling that my gender is being left out as having done some great stuff. Why, why, why. I've always wondered how long it will take for more women to be recognized among the great philosophers

Jillianhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14262690296962981254noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5193909.post-918741412003-04-02T18:18:00.000-05:002003-04-03T13:47:59.000-05:00

Older Girl and 2 Male Primates It has been said that way back when, men considered certain animals their brothers. They equated themselves with and worshipped the ram, the bull and the rhino as violent “takers” of females. Libido incarnate, libido unabashed. Rape was as akin to men as to their fellow animals. Today, after centuries of sophisticating our collective consciousness, rape is now

Jillianhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14262690296962981254noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5193909.post-918737172003-04-02T18:10:00.000-05:002003-04-02T18:10:47.466-05:00

Little Girl and 2 Male Props There were 2 men and a toddler crossing the street. I stopped to let them go by. The little girl looked perfectly happy in dirty warm-ups, her hair gone wild, her brown skin noticeably smudged and her well-being dependent on the men, who each had one of her hands. Her arms were too short. She was nearly suspended in air and a little uncomfortable. Some day she’s

Jillianhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14262690296962981254noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5193909.post-918735712003-04-02T18:07:00.000-05:002003-04-02T18:07:57.343-05:00

Kitty =Tibetan Monk or Barking Frog Simone always lets out the mew from hell (and from a great deep, which is not at all kittyish) just when I get into bed. It’s as if she’s forgotten where I am for a time, and she’s crying like a neglected kitty (which she is most definitely not) or as if she planned on my staying out in the living room with her, and now the plans have been changed against her

Jillianhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14262690296962981254noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5193909.post-918053592003-04-01T19:25:00.000-05:002003-04-03T13:50:46.000-05:00

Jung, Imagination and Sex I’m reading Jung’s Man and His Symbols. When you read something like this, it’s so clear as you’re reading it, but then to try to explain it. It melts – somehow becomes intangible – as if you’re trying to de-code a language you’re in the primary stages of learning. All I can say is this. I realized something reading Jung’s codified psychological mumbo jumbo (which is

Jillianhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14262690296962981254noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5193909.post-917075012003-03-31T09:01:00.000-05:002003-04-03T13:31:54.000-05:00

Some dangers in paraphrasing By chance, I picked up a copy of free zine called Organica this weekend. I noticed that Naomi Shihab Nye is a regular columnist, and she is a favorite poet of mine. She quotes the infamous Nobody knows the trouble I’ve seen Nobody knows my sorrow Nobody knows the trouble I’ve seen Glory, hallelujah!And then paraphrases it as My sorrow is special, maybe my sorrow

Jillianhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14262690296962981254noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5193909.post-914806452003-03-27T09:28:00.000-05:002003-03-27T09:31:06.000-05:00

Biscuits, FBI Agents and Marley Floors If you read the directions on the Bisquick box for biscuits, don't trust that it’s right. When you mix 2/3 cup of milk with the flour, you get goop. You CANNOT knead goop 10 times. If my use of bisquick says anything about me, it’s that I’m no gourmet cook. But I do know goop from biscuit. It's harder to scrub off your hands, and it’s irritating. I

Jillianhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14262690296962981254noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5193909.post-914266222003-03-26T13:54:00.000-05:002003-03-26T14:02:28.000-05:00

Panphobia (which means "fear of everything") has a wealth of information. Afraid of Germans? You're teutonphobic. The French? Gallophobic. Maybe you fear going to bed. You're clinophobic. I think I'm afraid of ridicule, so I must be katagelophobic, but I'm also hematophobic as evidence in my last post. This site also offers murder, disaster and disease news. I was beginning to think I

Jillianhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14262690296962981254noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5193909.post-914115162003-03-26T09:13:00.000-05:002003-03-26T09:13:27.043-05:00

Faint of heart, pshaw! Bob and I passed the blood bank bus on the SMU campus yesterday. She started talking about her dad and the guys at Miller brewing. They go in droves to donate blood and now thinking about it, she feels really guilty about the fact that she doesn’t like to give blood, but then again giving blood is better than getting shots because getting a shot kind of hurts. (It went

Jillianhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14262690296962981254noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5193909.post-913459632003-03-25T09:24:00.000-05:002003-03-25T09:33:42.000-05:00

On the importance of boredom, war and Massachusetts At the thought of filling up space on a blog, my mind has suddenly frozen. I'm not sure what the trouble is, except that I feel slightly uncomfortable about populating my own space in a public domain. (not my style) And this seems to be a very slow time in my life. Everything's moving at the slowest pace possible and I'm using a lot of

Jillianhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14262690296962981254noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5193909.post-911940872003-03-22T16:11:00.000-05:002003-03-22T16:17:41.000-05:00

First Day Hi.

Jillianhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14262690296962981254noreply@blogger.com0