Part of the problem about having a blog is finding the time to sit down and write something comprehensible on a regular basis. A bigger part of the problem is finding something meaningful to say that often. I mean it's one thing to start jabbering away about what I did today but it wouldn't be all that interesting would it? You can only read the sentence "I went to school today and I'm tired, well off to work!" so many times before you give up on a person and go play online tetris or something. So a lack of interesting topics and and even bigger lack of free time has kept me away (yet again) from writing a consistent and timely blog. Soon, however, school will be over, Christmas will be here, and a new chapter of my life will begin. That of job hunting, budgeting, planning, and making sure I don't let my parents drive me nuts. Focusing on my new career, a new promising path stretching out before me, and my health, which has taken quite a backseat to tests and massage techniques as of late.
I'm very close to being intimidated by school being over. If it wasn't for the fact that most of my teachers make me want to bang my head against a brick wall repeatedly just for some sort of relief I might be sad to leave. Well I am in a small way. I've made some good friends there, and hopefully we'll be able to stay in touch. Besides that though, I'm hopeful, and while I'm a little nervous, I'm a lot more confident in my path than I was this time last year. Wow, what a difference a year makes. This time last year I was commuting every day to NYC to make coffee for self-important editors making commercials for makeup and 3D crayons...for no pay. Nope, no regrets at all about making this change, I have a bright horizon ahead of me for the first time in years, and I'm going to ride out this wave of opportunity that has come my way. And if I wipe out, there's plenty more waves coming my way. All roads lead to Orlando, even the really long ones. Here's hoping. Happy Thanksgiving!
Book I'm Reading: American on Purpose by Craig Ferguson
Random Thought: Japanese ginger dressing gives you bad breath for hours, plan accordingly.
Tuesday, December 1, 2009
Monday, August 17, 2009
Triumphant Return from Anonymity
So after claiming that I would be posting way more often (ahem, 5 weeks ago), my internet decided to take a coma disguised as a nap. And just tonight after some magical setting configuration it is fixed (shrug). So anyway, I figured I would catch the world (that is, anybody reading this) up on life since then.
I am a massage therapist now! Well, I'm still in school but I can give a full body one hour Swedish massage that has already put many people to sleep. I have my own professional grade table that I have yet to practice on. This is not for want of test subjects; they have been lining up quite patiently. No, it's more to do with the fact that when I am not in school, I am at work. And when I'm not doing either of those, I'm usually sleeping. Or when I'm not doing that, I'm decompressing with a maximum of a few hours with friends MAYBE once a week. But I shouldn't complain. I love my instructors and classmates, I'm actually doing really well both academically and skills-wise. I actually LIKE my job, which is new for me. Yes the hours are long (which is the only reason I'm able to go to school, really) and it can be a little stressful on the feet and back (I'm moving the entire time) but the people I work with are actually intelligent and nice.
So life is good. It feels good to be able to say that after the year in the deep dark hole in the ground (as those who don't know me start to picture an actual hole in the ground with me waiting patiently inside). No, not a literal hole, but figuratively. Applying to job after job that I didn't really want. Trying to get by in a position that I was fighting deep down, until finally the light came on and the fight was over. So I really shouldn't have anything to complain about. And now that I have the internet back I can waste the hours that I would be spending NOT watching the god awful stuff they're selling as television these days surfing the world wide intertubular nets or whatever the proper geek term for them is this week.
And now, your moment of zen...
I am a massage therapist now! Well, I'm still in school but I can give a full body one hour Swedish massage that has already put many people to sleep. I have my own professional grade table that I have yet to practice on. This is not for want of test subjects; they have been lining up quite patiently. No, it's more to do with the fact that when I am not in school, I am at work. And when I'm not doing either of those, I'm usually sleeping. Or when I'm not doing that, I'm decompressing with a maximum of a few hours with friends MAYBE once a week. But I shouldn't complain. I love my instructors and classmates, I'm actually doing really well both academically and skills-wise. I actually LIKE my job, which is new for me. Yes the hours are long (which is the only reason I'm able to go to school, really) and it can be a little stressful on the feet and back (I'm moving the entire time) but the people I work with are actually intelligent and nice.
So life is good. It feels good to be able to say that after the year in the deep dark hole in the ground (as those who don't know me start to picture an actual hole in the ground with me waiting patiently inside). No, not a literal hole, but figuratively. Applying to job after job that I didn't really want. Trying to get by in a position that I was fighting deep down, until finally the light came on and the fight was over. So I really shouldn't have anything to complain about. And now that I have the internet back I can waste the hours that I would be spending NOT watching the god awful stuff they're selling as television these days surfing the world wide intertubular nets or whatever the proper geek term for them is this week.
And now, your moment of zen...
Wednesday, July 1, 2009
Trailing behind the footsteps of greatness (OR a tribute to Douglas Adams)
For anyone who has ever gazed on an image or listened to the echoes of the past and wished to have been a part of it. For anyone who has ever been in awe of the genius or accomplishment of a person long dead and shed a single tear from the dual sense of loss and fulfillment that that brings. For anyone who has grasped at the shredded, waving streamers of banners once flown proudly and now all but forgotten…. I understand.
I too regularly discover previously discovered territory and suddenly need to delve into every aspect of it to find some sort of clue as to the meaning of life, the universe, and everything. I watch, read, and listen to old stories with the enthusiasm of a child, only then realizing that scores of others have probably already gleaned some sort of meaning or understanding from them. I see the same emotion in a black and white filmed face as I do in the mirror. I hear the same emotions in the early radio voices as I do in my own. And I feel the same feelings that the authors do in the books I read. I see in them the same desperate search for something beyond ourselves that seems to be universal if not timeless. And out of all this infinite information that there is to glean in the world, and perhaps beyond it, I still can’t help but suspect that it will take more than a lifetime to summarize it into one definitive and neatly edited answer. And if and when I do, I would be content, honored, and somewhat ironically amused if the answer just happened to be… 42.
I too regularly discover previously discovered territory and suddenly need to delve into every aspect of it to find some sort of clue as to the meaning of life, the universe, and everything. I watch, read, and listen to old stories with the enthusiasm of a child, only then realizing that scores of others have probably already gleaned some sort of meaning or understanding from them. I see the same emotion in a black and white filmed face as I do in the mirror. I hear the same emotions in the early radio voices as I do in my own. And I feel the same feelings that the authors do in the books I read. I see in them the same desperate search for something beyond ourselves that seems to be universal if not timeless. And out of all this infinite information that there is to glean in the world, and perhaps beyond it, I still can’t help but suspect that it will take more than a lifetime to summarize it into one definitive and neatly edited answer. And if and when I do, I would be content, honored, and somewhat ironically amused if the answer just happened to be… 42.
Tuesday, June 30, 2009
The Future is in the Past
It seems to me that everywhere I go lately there is someone or something that reminds me just how much I wish I were somewhere else. That's not to say that where I am isn't perfectly fine, it's just my nature, I think, to want to be wherever I'm not. Or whenever. Or some other dimension where maybe things make a little bit of sense. Today I heard the song "The Future Has Arrived" and I couldn't help wishing I had been alive in the past, way in the past. If this is the future, then where will we be in OUR future? Can it get better from here? Can it get any worse? Probably. But hey, you're gonna get that with judgement days.
But really I mean you take almost any aspect of life today and there's something missing that I feel like the world may have had at one point. It's the something I feel when I watch Harpo Marx play his harp as if it was a long lost love. It's the way I feel when I read quotes from poets lifetimes ago who managed to put into words what I was feeling at that exact moment, as if they had had a time machine and could read my mind. I don't know exactly what it is but it seems the human race has forgotten what it means to live. We're so preoccupied with money, power, technology, guilt, health, death, ethics, celebrities, diets, politics, Shamwows, and electric toothbrushes that no one can remember the last time they heard complete and utter silence or simply sat and watched the world go by. At least no one I know can.
In the ant farm of modern life I feel like the ant in the corner, plotting away with blueprints and a little insect hard hat of a way out of here. Now, I know there are plenty of people like me. I know because I went to school with them. I see them on the streets, doing a good job of blending in but there's usually a glint in their eye that can be caught if you know what to look for. The problem is that to survive in this dog-eat-dog world ("Dog eat dog here?! George never bring Shep here, uh-uh, never.") so many of us have to put aside our wishes and daydreams, of simpler times, of worlds as of yet unexplored, of the places that will probably stay dreams forever. We have to don the dreaded nametags, enter the cubicles of doom, and tell our inner children that there is no Easter Bunny, go buy your own damn Easter candy!
I know I am not the only landlocked mental time-traveller who imagines steering a pirate ship while in bumper to bumper traffic, who tries to figure out which of the Three Stooges that idiot you have to put up with at work looks like, or who will actually do the math to figure out how much money they would have if they really did get a nickel for every time they inserted a non-sequiter movie quote into normal conversations. ($1,047.25)
So we work. We work and try to not let all of our spark disappear. It can be hard. Somewhere between texting a friend and interviewing for a job; sometime before that weird guy on the street somehow reminds me of Dr. teeth from the Muppets but after I trip over something for the tenth time in a day, it hits me that none of it matters. In 100 years people will still look back at right now with a feeling of fond nostalgia and think "Wow, that was a magical time." Well, ok, maybe the 80's were a magical time, but that was mostly the widespread cocaine, moon shoes, and David Bowie. (Who is in fact a magical creature, no matter what anybody says) But my point is that while the grass is always greener, a lot of us don't even have much grass anymore. And if we do, we're so focused on whether it's perfect (or at least better looking than the neighbors') that we don't realize how much more of it there should be. Quick, think of the smell of the grass after a rainy night! See? It doesn't come so easily anymore does it?
Every once in a while I'll get a window to the past that shows me how things might have been way back when. If you've ever walked into an antique shop, you know what history smells like. If you've ever listened to an elderly person tell stories from their life, you know what the eyes of an 80 year old child look like. If you've ever watched an old silent movie, you see the same people who walk the streets today, just in different clothes. Everything is different, yet the same. Always and never changing. These old things should be cherished, studied, and protected. Somewhere in a pile of old stuff, or in the eyes of that elderly person reliving their youth, or between the frames of those two silent actors dancing in the moonlight is the secret to living. Really living. And if we can figure it out, then maybe we can create a yesterday for future generations to really look at with wonder.
Book I'm currently reading: Peter and the Secret of Rundoon by Ridley Pearson and Dave Barrry
Last Movie I Watched: Seven Pounds
(Oh my god, Will Smith deserves an Oscar for that movie, it was phenomenal. Have a hanky ready.)
But really I mean you take almost any aspect of life today and there's something missing that I feel like the world may have had at one point. It's the something I feel when I watch Harpo Marx play his harp as if it was a long lost love. It's the way I feel when I read quotes from poets lifetimes ago who managed to put into words what I was feeling at that exact moment, as if they had had a time machine and could read my mind. I don't know exactly what it is but it seems the human race has forgotten what it means to live. We're so preoccupied with money, power, technology, guilt, health, death, ethics, celebrities, diets, politics, Shamwows, and electric toothbrushes that no one can remember the last time they heard complete and utter silence or simply sat and watched the world go by. At least no one I know can.
In the ant farm of modern life I feel like the ant in the corner, plotting away with blueprints and a little insect hard hat of a way out of here. Now, I know there are plenty of people like me. I know because I went to school with them. I see them on the streets, doing a good job of blending in but there's usually a glint in their eye that can be caught if you know what to look for. The problem is that to survive in this dog-eat-dog world ("Dog eat dog here?! George never bring Shep here, uh-uh, never.") so many of us have to put aside our wishes and daydreams, of simpler times, of worlds as of yet unexplored, of the places that will probably stay dreams forever. We have to don the dreaded nametags, enter the cubicles of doom, and tell our inner children that there is no Easter Bunny, go buy your own damn Easter candy!
I know I am not the only landlocked mental time-traveller who imagines steering a pirate ship while in bumper to bumper traffic, who tries to figure out which of the Three Stooges that idiot you have to put up with at work looks like, or who will actually do the math to figure out how much money they would have if they really did get a nickel for every time they inserted a non-sequiter movie quote into normal conversations. ($1,047.25)
So we work. We work and try to not let all of our spark disappear. It can be hard. Somewhere between texting a friend and interviewing for a job; sometime before that weird guy on the street somehow reminds me of Dr. teeth from the Muppets but after I trip over something for the tenth time in a day, it hits me that none of it matters. In 100 years people will still look back at right now with a feeling of fond nostalgia and think "Wow, that was a magical time." Well, ok, maybe the 80's were a magical time, but that was mostly the widespread cocaine, moon shoes, and David Bowie. (Who is in fact a magical creature, no matter what anybody says) But my point is that while the grass is always greener, a lot of us don't even have much grass anymore. And if we do, we're so focused on whether it's perfect (or at least better looking than the neighbors') that we don't realize how much more of it there should be. Quick, think of the smell of the grass after a rainy night! See? It doesn't come so easily anymore does it?
Every once in a while I'll get a window to the past that shows me how things might have been way back when. If you've ever walked into an antique shop, you know what history smells like. If you've ever listened to an elderly person tell stories from their life, you know what the eyes of an 80 year old child look like. If you've ever watched an old silent movie, you see the same people who walk the streets today, just in different clothes. Everything is different, yet the same. Always and never changing. These old things should be cherished, studied, and protected. Somewhere in a pile of old stuff, or in the eyes of that elderly person reliving their youth, or between the frames of those two silent actors dancing in the moonlight is the secret to living. Really living. And if we can figure it out, then maybe we can create a yesterday for future generations to really look at with wonder.
Book I'm currently reading: Peter and the Secret of Rundoon by Ridley Pearson and Dave Barrry
Last Movie I Watched: Seven Pounds
(Oh my god, Will Smith deserves an Oscar for that movie, it was phenomenal. Have a hanky ready.)
Ch-ch-ch-ch-changes
I've decided after a long absence from this blog to change the title and direction that the posts take. I like this logo a heck of a lot better, and I think it better suits me. I had fun making it too. "The Stationary Traveler" didn't give me a lot of leeway for posts about whatever I wanted. So I hope this will work better. I will try my hardest to write more regularly - much more regularly - and my hope is that in time I will have some people interested enough to come back for more. I like the idea of being someone with something to say. Very often I say nothing but think volumes. Getting it out may be the first step. So here's lookin' at you kid. (Yea, uh, I do that.... with the quotes... quite a lot actually. It's hard to stop!)
Look for another post soon. Over and out!
~Jillian
Book I'm currently reading: Peter and the Secret of Rundoon by Ridley Pearson and Dave Barry
Look for another post soon. Over and out!
~Jillian
Book I'm currently reading: Peter and the Secret of Rundoon by Ridley Pearson and Dave Barry
Wednesday, February 11, 2009
New York City Impressions
The amount of people still boggles my mind. Every car of every subway has people in it. Almost every seat on the train to and from NJ is full. It's hard to describe to someone who's never been there. It has to be seen to be believed. I think most tourists go straight to Times Square and immediately see this city, which is home to millions of people, all different kinds, as some kind of theme park or artificial attraction. Maybe it is somewhat. But in the few months I've been going there for work, I've become aware of more than just the glitz and glammer, which fades away rather quickly once you get into the heart of the city itself. The thing that really runs this enormous machine is the people.
From snazzy business-people to street vendors to immigrants to homeless to Park Avenue millionaires, their collective breaths make up the constant beat of the city; the inhale and exhale of every street, avenue, and park. Millions are one whole suddenly. It is an anthill instead of a mass of ants; a pointilism painting made of million of person-dots. Walking down the street, you can't possibly look at every face, take in all the endless signs and lights that you pass. No wonder that all these people eventually become robots outwardly, looking straight ahead stopping for nothing but lights and cars (usually). Outwardly they are all the same, and outwardly they are all so different. To think that behind each set of expressionless eyes is a person hiding safely inside their protective cocoon. I'd like to think that at least some of these people would like to show more emotion, personality, and their real selves. But I suppose it's easier to just turn it off when joining the masses in the grids of asphalt and cement.
It seems that most people don't talk to each other, don't make eye contact. Everyone in NY is, for at least one moment in the day, alone in a crowd. The long term effects of millions of people effectively ignoring each other in this way can be horrific to think about. The only one that matters is you, the place is where you're heading to. With that philosophy, of course there's crime. What's a murder when the other people don't matter? Why not steal when others aren't affected? But everyone is connected. everything that happens affects someone in some way. And every second of every day, millions of people are affecting each other without even knowing it, while staying in their private cocoons and thoughts. It makes small town life sound heavenly.
Of course, this is how I see the city. I don't live there, and so don't have a network of friends and neighbors to relate to. To me it is a lonely city, because everyone is always going somewhere else or with someone else, and I have my own places to go to. Maybe living there would change my perspective; of course it would. But I would much rather be among trees and grass and animals in a place where the people all know each other and there's no pressure to keep up with the flow of foot traffic or watch the street lights for the exact second that it's ok to cross the street. The suburbs are a strange mix of the two worlds, where you see some grass and trees, and know some of your neighbors, but still have to drive to the city area to get food, jobs, etc. But such is modern life.
Would I trade modern conveniences for old world community and values? I'm still not sure.
From snazzy business-people to street vendors to immigrants to homeless to Park Avenue millionaires, their collective breaths make up the constant beat of the city; the inhale and exhale of every street, avenue, and park. Millions are one whole suddenly. It is an anthill instead of a mass of ants; a pointilism painting made of million of person-dots. Walking down the street, you can't possibly look at every face, take in all the endless signs and lights that you pass. No wonder that all these people eventually become robots outwardly, looking straight ahead stopping for nothing but lights and cars (usually). Outwardly they are all the same, and outwardly they are all so different. To think that behind each set of expressionless eyes is a person hiding safely inside their protective cocoon. I'd like to think that at least some of these people would like to show more emotion, personality, and their real selves. But I suppose it's easier to just turn it off when joining the masses in the grids of asphalt and cement.
It seems that most people don't talk to each other, don't make eye contact. Everyone in NY is, for at least one moment in the day, alone in a crowd. The long term effects of millions of people effectively ignoring each other in this way can be horrific to think about. The only one that matters is you, the place is where you're heading to. With that philosophy, of course there's crime. What's a murder when the other people don't matter? Why not steal when others aren't affected? But everyone is connected. everything that happens affects someone in some way. And every second of every day, millions of people are affecting each other without even knowing it, while staying in their private cocoons and thoughts. It makes small town life sound heavenly.
Of course, this is how I see the city. I don't live there, and so don't have a network of friends and neighbors to relate to. To me it is a lonely city, because everyone is always going somewhere else or with someone else, and I have my own places to go to. Maybe living there would change my perspective; of course it would. But I would much rather be among trees and grass and animals in a place where the people all know each other and there's no pressure to keep up with the flow of foot traffic or watch the street lights for the exact second that it's ok to cross the street. The suburbs are a strange mix of the two worlds, where you see some grass and trees, and know some of your neighbors, but still have to drive to the city area to get food, jobs, etc. But such is modern life.
Would I trade modern conveniences for old world community and values? I'm still not sure.
Monday, February 9, 2009
Obligatory Introductions
What better way to introduce myself than to share with you what constitutes a perfect day in my eyes. I happened to have such a day yesterday. For the first time in months, the weather was in the 50's and it was beautiful outside. For someone who constantly struggles with seasonal depression like me, it was as if not only the clouds in the sky had lifted, but the dark aura that is WINTER had been pulled away from my being. My parents would be out until late that night and it would be just me. I couldn't let the day go to waste, and I didn't have anything planned. The perfect setup.
I went to the park and took a few walking trails, and while they were very muddy from all the snow melting in less than a day, it was glorious to be back outside without the coat, hat, scarf, gloves, boots, etc. There was also not a soul around (which made me nervous for a second as I thought how no one would hear me or know where I was if I were to suddenly slip down a muddy mountain to certain doom) so it was just me and my thoughts...and a quick phone call. If you've never gone walking through a serene forest laughing about inside jokes with one of your closest friends, then you haven't lived.
After leaving the woods and cleaning the comical amount of fresh mud off my sneakers in a snow bank, I decided to just drive (with the window open no less! Yay warmness!) and see where I ended up. I ended up at the bookstore. This is what probably made a good day into a great day. I had a gift card (FREE BOOKS!) so I took about an hour browsing this and that, sampling music, people watching, and generally loving the fact that I had nowhere to be and nothing pressing to do for the first time in a while. I got myself two books and a DVD, and headed home.
After eating an early dinner I swiftly passed out while watching a dog agility competition on ESPN 42 or whatever ridiculous number they're on now. The last thing I remember was watching a dog jumping over it's owner's back in time to "Freeze Frame". The phone woke me up an hour later with just enough time to get to work on time. Work was...work. It was stage set night at the Disney Store, which means 6 or 7 people lifting, moving, filling, emptying, organizing, and cleaning up a good portion of the inventory of the store in a matter of hours. The shelves at the store are my worst enemy and never cooperate...never. Everyone else can pull them out with a quick lift up, out and down again, but for me it's up....stuck, jiggle...still stuck, slam....a little less stuck, pound...bloody knuckle, out...stuck in a different, previously unheard of way.... and that's when I call someone over to help me while holding the heavy metal shelf, usually in an uncomfortable or painful position. Needless to say I had an entire wall to rearrange, full of shelves and other movable metal things.
We got out of there at 10:45 PM, and by then the warm day had turned back into the cold hell that is February. I went home just in time to see Robot Chicken (can you say perfect day or what?) and spent a few hours on Facebook.
Sure, I have many examples of what would make up a great day, and this is just one of them. I believe it's a pretty good way to learn about a person, to see what they would choose to spend their free time doing. This blog will mostly be my observations on daily life, the things around me, and the people and places in my life. Hopefully it will be something that both I and anyone who reads can enjoy.
Book I'm currently reading: What Every Body is Saying: An Ex-FBI Agent's Guide to Speed-Reading People
Last Movie or TV Show I watched: Heroes
I went to the park and took a few walking trails, and while they were very muddy from all the snow melting in less than a day, it was glorious to be back outside without the coat, hat, scarf, gloves, boots, etc. There was also not a soul around (which made me nervous for a second as I thought how no one would hear me or know where I was if I were to suddenly slip down a muddy mountain to certain doom) so it was just me and my thoughts...and a quick phone call. If you've never gone walking through a serene forest laughing about inside jokes with one of your closest friends, then you haven't lived.
After leaving the woods and cleaning the comical amount of fresh mud off my sneakers in a snow bank, I decided to just drive (with the window open no less! Yay warmness!) and see where I ended up. I ended up at the bookstore. This is what probably made a good day into a great day. I had a gift card (FREE BOOKS!) so I took about an hour browsing this and that, sampling music, people watching, and generally loving the fact that I had nowhere to be and nothing pressing to do for the first time in a while. I got myself two books and a DVD, and headed home.
After eating an early dinner I swiftly passed out while watching a dog agility competition on ESPN 42 or whatever ridiculous number they're on now. The last thing I remember was watching a dog jumping over it's owner's back in time to "Freeze Frame". The phone woke me up an hour later with just enough time to get to work on time. Work was...work. It was stage set night at the Disney Store, which means 6 or 7 people lifting, moving, filling, emptying, organizing, and cleaning up a good portion of the inventory of the store in a matter of hours. The shelves at the store are my worst enemy and never cooperate...never. Everyone else can pull them out with a quick lift up, out and down again, but for me it's up....stuck, jiggle...still stuck, slam....a little less stuck, pound...bloody knuckle, out...stuck in a different, previously unheard of way.... and that's when I call someone over to help me while holding the heavy metal shelf, usually in an uncomfortable or painful position. Needless to say I had an entire wall to rearrange, full of shelves and other movable metal things.
We got out of there at 10:45 PM, and by then the warm day had turned back into the cold hell that is February. I went home just in time to see Robot Chicken (can you say perfect day or what?) and spent a few hours on Facebook.
Sure, I have many examples of what would make up a great day, and this is just one of them. I believe it's a pretty good way to learn about a person, to see what they would choose to spend their free time doing. This blog will mostly be my observations on daily life, the things around me, and the people and places in my life. Hopefully it will be something that both I and anyone who reads can enjoy.
Book I'm currently reading: What Every Body is Saying: An Ex-FBI Agent's Guide to Speed-Reading People
Last Movie or TV Show I watched: Heroes
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