Author Archives: Julia

take that haters

Posted in Facebook, internet by

Uh oh, I just realized that I might be an internet hater. I feel safe sitting here at my desk blogging about people and things that drive me absolutely crazy because there is a certain anonymity to anything written on the internet. A friend of mine (who quite possibly does not know I read her blog so this could be creepy) wrote a post about the internet and it’s effect on my generation and those following. She writes about Facebook, something which I obviously use but think is semi ridiculous. She also touches on the general quality of writing that appears on the internet these days. (most of which is subpar. Mine is awesome though. Durr.)

Something to think about because I know I rely in the internet way to much. I joke with my friends about how we are expert stalkers and can find out literally almost anything about someone via Facebook, MySpace or Google. I will admit that it’s a skill, one if I could word it correctly I might include on my resume. Professional sleuth…skilled searcher…but I do wonder how much more free time I would have without the internet and how much less fried my brain would be. On the flip side, I would know a helluva lot less about my friends. Life could very well be much more simple and mundane.
So let’s all get rid of our electricity, light a few candles and read our books by the fire. Because things would most likely be much better if they had never changed at all.

She loves him She loves him not FYI

Posted in Facebook, relationships by
First things first – I GOT AIR CONDITIONING!!! I do not care that I broke down, Mira and I are happily cool now. Aaaaaah. That’s me breathing in the refreshingly cold air in my apartment. Or imagining it since I am at work.

Facebook gives me a lot of grief. People publicize so much of their lives on that thing. The amount of personal information in my profile sometimes makes me uncomfortable and I think I’m a pretty middle of the road Facebooker. I had a friend in college on the equestrian team. She was a lovely girl, very sweet and fun. We’ve lost touch, as I have with many of the girls on the team (some more purposefully than others) but through her profile I discovered that she has a boyfriend these days.

OK, I am going to insert a disclaimer here. I realize that if you only read my blog you may think I am obsessed with my boyfriend. He’s just managed to sneak into most posts lately. I am completely crazy about him but I do not excessively Facebook about him. Maybe because I am convinced that only a few people read this blog and therefore I can say whatever I damn well please. Anyway.
My friend has posted plenty of pictures of her and the BF. Fine except that she’s gone to the extent of posting kissing pictures (seriously, who takes pictures of themselves kissing? This is a very bizarre phenomenon which I am convinced started, or was at least encouraged by the advent of Facebook). One of said kissing pictures is even her profile pic! Egads! Her statuses have also started to revolve around the boy. “B is loving him…”, “B is in bed with her manly man…” and so on. Her wall has been taken over by overly sweet posts from him. I don’t quite understand the need to flaunt a relationship on the internet. I have nothing to prove to anyone, not even really myself. As long as we are happy then why should I care if people I don’t give a rat’s ass about on Facebook know that I love my boyfriend and that we make out in front of the camera? (we obviously don’t do this. Narcissistic much?) Let’s keep it classy folks.
What follows is a few pictures that I would like to share taken on Friday night when Sam and I wandered up and down Mass Ave looking for art galleries to poke our heads into. Of course the weather, which has apparently lost its mind, got bad and we ended up running into a bar as huge forks of lightning tore across the sky.

Please enjoy the music while your party is reached

Posted in apartments, friends, Green Cove by

Last night I called Bette via Skype for the first time since she’s been in Ireland. We’ve talked online but nothing is quite the same as a phone conversation with her. We talked about absolutely nothing for an hour and a half and the only reason we hung up was because I had to call Adam back. We spent a good half hour browsing pictures on Green Cove’s website from Early June camp. Some of the first year counselors there were campers when we were on staff. That, friends, is odd. The girls at that session are so little and adorable. They wear huge hiking boots and big tshirts and riding helmets to meals.

I think we then spent another half hour discussing how much it would cost me to drive down to camp. Between gas and wear and tear cost on the car, it’s quite a bit. Figuring out how much I would spend on gas took us a pathetic 15 minutes I’m sure. We basically had to set up a word problem. If gas costs $4 a gallon right now, my trip is 494 miles and my car gets 27 mpg, how much will gas cost for my whole trip? We are poor mathematicians. I like that I have a friend who I can call up for no reason other than just chatting and end up talking to for hours. Actually, most of my good friends are like that. I’ve had countless long and random conversations with Marnie and Sam too. That is true friendship.

I am having an inner conflict regarding my living situation. My apartment does not have air. My kitchen is tiny. I have no backyard for Mira to run around in. It takes me forever to get places because of downtown traffic and weirdo streets and stoplights. I live in a small pocket of decency in what might be described as a somewhat ghetto area of town. On the flip side, I do live very close to lots of downtown happenings and events. I can ride my bike to most said events. Walking on the canal is lovely. I do have a lot of the necessities (grocery, post office, cleaners, etc) within five minutes of my apartment.
Either way, I’ve started browsing apartment and house listings even though my lease doesn’t end until November. I have a little dream that involves a house with a big kitchen, a dishwasher and garbage disposal, air conditioning and a fenced in backyard. Bette claims that I’m nesting. I say it’s my goddamn biological clock trying to tell me it’s time to settle down, start a family, blah blah. My clear and rational mind knows how ridiculous that all sounds. As if I am anywhere close to being ready for anything that resembles a family beyond the dog and boyfriend “family” I have right now. I hate being a female.

a dream upon waking

Posted in Green Cove, mini trips, relationships by

First things first – it is insanely stuffy and hot in my apartment. not so hot outside at the moment but in here, yes. Possibly a result of the oven being on while I made peanut butter chocolate chip cookies. Regardless, I have my fan pointed directly at me and on high.

Second things second. Last weekend Adam, Mira and I went to Lake Monroe for a few days to hang out and fish a little on his parents boat. Being outside and away from the city (I know “city”, right? As if Indianapolis is a huge bustling metropolis) did wonders for me. That weekend everyone arrived at camp for orientation so the potential for me to sit and wallow in I-miss-camp-pity was very, very high. But the most amazing thing happened. I didn’t want to be at camp once, not for one minute. Even when Mary texted me that she was at the Black Rose, a bar we frequented in Hendersonville. As Adam and I sat on the boat and looked at the stars I realized that I’m incredibly happy right here. This, referring back to a previous post where I wondered if, even though I’m generally happy with my life now, I would always want to be somewhere else too. I don’t want to be anywhere else but here. I’m home and even though I miss everywhere I’ve been and called home in the past and all my friends in those places, here and now is so good. This might be the best feeling ever. Not to say that I don’t have shitty days where I want to crawl under the covers and never come out, but I do come out. A few quick pics from our lake trip.

Me and Mirabelle on the boat
sunset
Adam making our bbq chicken dinner

Third things third. Last night Sam and I attended the most bizarre party we’ve been to in awhile. It was something like a dream. My friend Elizabeth is an intern at the magazines and lives downstairs in my building. The party was a housewarming party she threw. The crowd was, generally speaking, all under 21, including a 15 year old. Now, I am not being condescending here. Oh my God I am so much older than these kids. They just seemed so young. In attendance was a girl who I’ll call MK. She was everything that, two years ago, I would have longed to be. She was effortlessly cool, wearing a black tshirt, a brown fringed jacket and tight dark jeans and discussing how she doesn’t pay for spices at the store, eats donuts and doesn’t pay for them, and carries her lighter between her breasts and down her shirt. I literally would have watched her all night and been intensely jealous and completely judgmental of her in my insecurity and lack of self confidence. Last night I watched her and smiled because her coolness is not effortless, but quite the opposite. Part of me wanted to judge her, just out of habit. At one point everyone gathered around a piece of meat, called star meat, and performed a ritual. Star meat seemed to be meatloaf in the somewhat shape of a star with sprinkles and candles stuck on it. They all stood around the lit up meat and chanted “star meat star meat!” until MK, who was in charge, shushed them all, at which point they blew out the candles and ate the meat. Weird. Like I said, a somewhat dreamlike night that reminded me of what I used to wish I had and was and of how happy I am that I somehow found my self confidence between then and now. Anyway I’m glad that Sam was there with me because the whole night was something of a flashback to Bloomington and our neighbors senior year.

End of story.

Julia is…well rested, tan, and thinks it might be the weekend

Posted in Facebook, vacation by

Well I vacationed in Florida. I am actually tan and only burned slightly, which is an accomplishment for me. Really had a very nice time. The boys played golf twice, us girls laid out at the very fantastic pool and got massages, Adam and I had beers at Tin City, walked on the beach together and played in the ocean. We saw a bird mauling a dead fish on the Naples peer and stood inches from a leopard with just a glass window separating us. I convinced Adam, Brent and Adam’s dad that jockeys are bred for their small size. Ashley and I made fun of a very silly and PDA-y couple at the airport. I enjoy family vacations, even if the family isn’t mine.

Today I realized why I love Facebook so much (and when I say love, I really mean hate). See, sometimes I get confused as to what day of the week it is, what is going on in the world and my city in general. Lots of times what I really need is a useless update on how you were affected by the weather, a magical quote or lyric describing your mood, or to see a message that is clearly directed at one or a few specific people but you feel the need to share with all of Facebook. So, thank you, friends for updating your statuses these past few days, with proclamations that this weekend is indeed a long one (I wasn’t aware you see, that I don’t have to work on Monday since it’s an official national holiday), that there is a large and internationally known car race going on in Indianapolis this weekend (wait, what’s the Indy 500 anyway?? Cars? Racetrack? Beer? These go together on this day?), and that these next few days are in fact and in actuality, the weekend. I HAD NO IDEA!!!! What a relief that I have Facebook to keep me straight and on track. Right now I am very tempted to leave the stupid online networking site. Maybe I will.

monday monday ba da ba da da da

Posted in relationships, vacation by

Uh oh, illegal two days in a row blog postage. I just want to document the fact that this is going to be the longest week on record. I’m leaving at 12:30 on Friday and am going to desperately try to make up those missed hours during the rest of the week. That means no lunch hour Monday, Tuesday or Wednesday, staying late Monday and Wednesday and coming in early on Friday. Florida had better kick some serious ass.

in other news, a moment from my past resurfaced on instant messenger last night (after I’d gone to bed at the early hour of 10:30 of course). I was surprised, not sure if pleasantly or otherwise though.
I feel stuck right now and I need something to happen. I have ideas on what that something could be but I kinda doubt that those ideas will be taken into consideration.
How do you talk to someone about something that you just can’t put your finger on? You can’t just sit down and say “we need to talk. About this…this feeling I have that’s been making me uncomfortable.” Instead, I am going to get over myself and do what I do best, ignore any serious emotions, shove them aside and deal with them later.

i’d fly in his ship any day

Posted in Mira, quotes by

I love Harrison Ford. He’s a scoundrel of the best and sexiest kind. USA is showing all three Indiana Jones movies today and I’m TiVoing the first and third ones. The Temple of Doom scares the shit out of me. The whole taking hearts out of people’s chests? But back to Harrison Ford. Anyone who flies a piece of crap ship and makes it look awesome, who has a giant angry worm creature searching the galaxy for him, and who can rope in the Princess Leia is awesome in my book. Plus,
Indy’s dad – there are people trying to kill us!
Indy – I know Dad!
Indy’s dad – this is a new experience for me.
Indy – It happens to me all the time.
Badass.
There is no denying that, despite the fact that he’s, what, 65, he’ll be sexy in the new Indiana Jones movie.

I also just want to document a few precious moments from last night.
Precious Moment #1. Kelly tells us that the guy she’s seeing might have a girlfriend. She says “I’m 50% sure he has a girlfriend and 100% sure I don’t care.” Classy, Kel, very classy:)
Precious Moment #2. At an art show later that night we are looking at a piece that is small samples of perfume called urine. It is, in fact, actual urine we decide. We tell Kelly to look at the back of the card which lists the ingredients. Kelly promptly picks up the card/piece of art. Adam Calloway says, “Kelly that’s art, don’t pick that up!” Please, it’s urine, not art.
Precious Moment #3. My Adam calls at 2AM from a bachelor party in Chicago. He is incredibly drunk and outside a strip club. First we discuss the sweet cars parked outside. I tell him he should steal one. He says he does not know the code to steal these. Oh wait, yes he does, for this Range Rover! Second, we begin a lengthy discussion on a stripper’s breasts. Adam says, “I don’t like their boobs, they’re too fake. I like yours better.” Oh my Lord. Should I be flattered?

My dog knocked over the container of treats that sits on top of her crate while I was at work. She ate every single last treat in that damn container. She’s been very sweet and apologetic since then. Also a bit sick to her stomach. Haha, that’s what the bitch gets I say.

Back Home to Those Indiana Nights

Posted in Green Cove by

Well, I’m feeling brave tonight. Plus I don’t think very many people read this blog. I’m going to post something I’ve written. I’ve passed it (and a few other things) around to a few of my friends for opinions because I’m thinking of sending some stuff to magazines and/or literary journals. So, I figure if I really want to be a writer, people will have to read what I write. I mean that is the point. So here’s a sample. I will say that what I write about most frequently is camp because of the impact it has had on me over the years. I can honestly say that I would not be half the woman I am today without Green Cove. Anyway, please comment, I love constructive criticism. The title is in the title of this post:)

Tom Petty sang, “I feel summer creeping in and I’m tired of this town again.” If summer creeps in as it does, evenings slowly heating up, days becoming thicker, then so does autumn. It slips into summer like two people holding hands, fingers entwining. Cool nights mix with still hot days. Leaves start to fall and make the air smell damp and crunchy. The breeze no longer carries the smell of fresh cut grass and cookouts. Certain things signal the ending of summer creeping up. The sun sets sooner which leaves less time after dinner to play barefooted outside. Fireflies flicker less frequently. Just as certain are the signs of an oncoming autumn. Aisles overflow with notebooks, pencils and folders at Target and Wal-Mart. Kids proudly sport back-to-school shoes, clothes and haircuts.

I’ve always had one sure sign of summer’s end and the beginning of autumn. Camp ends. Every August I drive, or flew as occasion had it, out of the mountains and away from my summer. I leave behind me a million memories, new friends, a t-shirt and a few socks, and a piece of me that, no matter how hard I try, never sees the cornfields of Indiana. My southern mountain girl stays at The Cove and waits until I return the next summer to the place when the fireflies flicker over the lake and the stars fill the endlessly huge mountain sky. I’ve spend countless hours trying to get that part of me to return home. I manage to bring mold back in my trunk, photos on my camera, and plane letters in my bag but something of who I am, the young woman who confidently directed her counselors, encouraged her campers, scheduled and taught endless lessons never sees the real world. Neither did the girl who didn’t glance in the mirror before she left the cabin, who sang too loudly and off key, who hugged her best friends often and didn’t hold back. People always tell me that I’ve changed at the end of the summer when I return to real life. I know it too. I just wish that my parents, my friends, everyone out here who might doubt me, could see who I am when I am truly in my element.

without you

Posted in Green Cove by

Sometimes I feel like I’ve broken up with someone when I think about camp. We spent all these wonderful years together, I grew and learned with camp and became me because of camp. I spent my best years with camp. Then, one day I realized that it was time to move on. I unwillingly saw that we needed our distance. We’ll still always be friends and someday I know we’ll be together again. It was just time, no matter how hard that is for me to admit.

In a little over a month a group of young men and women will gather in the mountains on the shores of Lake Summit and begin orientation. They will prepare for the summer of a lifetime. some will be returning to their home. Others will be venturing into a new and strange land, filled with traditions they can’t understand yet and a language all of its own. I very much long to be part of those young men and women. I want to drive down the entrance road with my windows open, the small of the summertime mountains wafting into my car. When I get out I want to see my best friends, sing camp songs and hear the bell. This is a very difficult break up. I constantly want to get back together despite the fact that I know better.
I’ve been having a lot of trouble imagining summer without camp. Two years ago I was at camp for only the month of June and, not counting that month, that was the worst summer on record. I’m honestly a little scared. That sounds kind of extreme, but hey it’s true. Good thing I have a white board full of summer fun in Indianapolis activities to keep me busy. I have plans to learn how to fish on a boat at a lake (which I will jump into fully clothed just for good measure) and then take my new fishing skills to the woods to go camping. I might even learn how to play golf. I’ll walk on the canal, listen to live jazz, have picnics, and ride segways. I know that everything will be ok because I have this support system here at home that will make it easy for me to enjoy my summer.
A tiny part of me still wishes that I was slowly gathering up my camping stuff, my oldest tennis shoes, my rattiest t-shirts and packing it into my old and worn trunk and driving down to the mountains where the rhododendron grow.

your right to bear arms

Posted in politics by

I have been struggling lately with my feelings on gun control. About a month ago Adam called me excitedly saying he was going to be up in Indianapolis picking up his new handgun before he came to my apartment. I knew that he hunted and had sat next to his rifle in his car (the closest I have ever been to a gun, I might add) but this somehow was a whole other level. When he arrived at my apartment that night, he took out the gun, put it together and showed me how he would load and cock it, and then pointed it. I about flipped my shit. The whole time he had that thing out I had an uneasy feeling in my stomach. I did actually hold it, I refuse to be called narrow minded, but it was a serious step out of my comfort zone, and I would not point the damn thing, no matter how much he asked. Adam knows about my hesitation to his owning a handgun, he knows I do not agree with the fact that he, a regular citizen, can just have his loaded gun in his house. He says I feel this way because I’m just generally uncomfortable around guns as I’ve never really been around them. Not true.

I have no problem with the responsible gun owner. The kind who, like Adam showed me he would always do, keeps his gun in its locked box, unloaded, bullets elsewhere, with the gun itself locked in the uncocked (or whatever it’s called) position. The gun only comes out to be used recreationally at shooting ranges, etc. Here’s my problem: most people are not responsible gun owners. Most people keep their guns loaded and under their beds. Any dumbass could walk in, find the gun and start shooting whoever he pleased. What if you have a gun, loaded and easily accessible, in case you need it for personal protection. Or, you think you’re being responsible and leave it unloaded, but for quick loading purposes, the bullets are near the gun. You have friends over, you all get drunk, the gun somehow comes out, maybe a friend finds it or you take it out. Who’s to say you, the “responsible” gun owner, does not accidentally hurt someone? Or maybe your kid, who knows you have the gun because kids aren’t stupid folks, gets in a fight with someone at school. He says, in an attempt to be seriously badass, that he’s going to bring his dad’s gun to school. He probably has no intention of actually shooting anyone but who knows what will transpire once he pulls the thing out of his backpack in the school parking lot?
I read an article on cnn.com this morning (court decision on gun control is personal for 2 women) about gun control in Washington, D.C. and the city’s ban on handgun ownership. Two women were quoted in the story representing both sides of the discussion. One woman stated very well my feelings I think. She said, “No one here is trying to fight against your right to have a gun. What we want is for dangerous people not to get access to one, and today it is just too easy. We cannot keep sacrificing innocent people because you have a fear that you’re not going to be able to have your right to own a gun.” The other woman quoted in the article owns a gun for personal protection as she lives in a high crime neighborhood. When she called the police to report threats and vandalism, their advise was buy a gun. Well that just seems like it encourages the already high crime problem and the cycle bad neighborhoods in big cities are stuck in. I understand that this woman feels she needs protection. As a young woman living by myself in downtown Indianapolis (honestly a relatively safe city in comparison I think) I do not feel comfortable walking my dog later at night. I keep it to the front of my apartment building. Then again, living in this part of town was my decision. If things get out of hand, I consider it the responsibility of the city to get crime and violence under control. I do not think I should have to go out and buy a gun and feel as though I have to take things into my own hands. And no, I am not so naive that I think a city of any size can be completely crime free. OK, now I’m heading towards my whole stance on poverty and education and how that is basically the root of a lot of our problems in this country. And that would be a whole other discussion and as this blog entry has already become much longer and more ramble-y than I initially intended, I will leave that for later debate.
On a completely different note, I miss camp so much it hurts and I have admitted to being a wannabe Southerner. I might have a problem.