Author: Jana

  • Because people sing to me

    Some workers are trimming the trees around our apartment. I suspect that if today wasn’t a Portland-style drizzly day that this would actually mean that a ray of light would be coming in our windows. This will totally change our lives, I think. To actually be able to open the windows and have sun streaming in.

    I have the back sliding door wide open (with the screen closed) and the front door open (again, with a screen). The 5 or 6 workers who are hanging from the various trees are serenading me in Spanish right now. Well, I have to admit that they might not necessarily be singing to me, but considering that I am sitting in the LR at the table working, and they are less than 10 feet away from me and there is only a flimsy plastic screen between us, they ARE singing to me. I tried hooking up a mic to my computer to record their voices, but all I got was some odd mechanical sounds from my processor (no music). Grrr.

    These are the same workers who, when I came home from class yesterday afternoon, had made nests of burlap sacks in the bushes and were catching a quick nap after lunch. When I rode past them on my bike one of them tipped the brim of his hat at me and winked. I’m suspecting that The Winker is the one who’s singing the loudest right now.

    John never believes that people sing to me when I am at home during the day. It’s often the neighbors, and not men in trees. But it happens. All the time. Promise.
    ;)

  • because you can’t have your hands in your shirt…

    Today I biked over to school for a meeting. I dropped off some overdue books at the library on the way, and because I had a few minutes to kill I crashed in the grad reading room for some moments of quiet reading.

    But it was humid today and the bike ride left me feeling a little itchy. Mostly in the area where the underwire of my bra was rubbing against my skin. If I’d been reading at home I would’ve just reached into my shirt and pulled the offending fabric away from the raw parts of my skin. But sitting there in that super-quiet room full of dutiful grad students, I got more and more uncomfortable as I realized I couldn’t reach into my shirt and readjust. And then I couldn’t concentrate on my book because the itchiness was that bad…

    Guys are lucky that way. No one blinks when they scratch, tug, pull, and yank at various parts of their clothing and bodies. Girls, we have to keep our hands off ourselves in public…

  • ABC Meme

    from Chris

    Accent: A bit of a dipthong from having grown up in Oklaho-oma. Otherwise, pure Californian.

    Booze: None, except for great-grandpa’s special-recipe Tahitian vanilla and an occasional serving of Bananas Foster.

    Chore I Hate: Picking up after other people.

    Dog or Cat: CAT! (specifically, Ellycat and TobyJoy)

    Essential Electronics: electical outlet for charging robotic leg, junebug, hot water heater, 1941 Singer sewing machine, dig camera & cardreader, battery charger.

    Favorite Perfume(s): Loulou by Cacharel (which I can only afford every once in awhile becuase it has to be imported from Europe); Amber Romance (a cheap Victoria’s Secret Scent)

    Gold or Silver: both at the same time (rings are gold, watch is silver-ish).

    Hometown: Born in SLC; grew up in Tulsa; high school in Bakersfield, CA.

    Insomnia: Really bad while I was a SAHM. Now I fall asleep just about anywhere, anytime.

    Job Title: Grad Student, Teaching Assistant, Book Review Editor, etc.

    Kids: E & C.

    Living arrangements: 3 bedroom apartment. Downstairs in the corner of an 8-family building. Too few windows (it’s a cave).

    Most admirable trait: I smile a lot.

    Number of sexual partners: Been faithful to John for more than 14 years. :)

    Overnight hospital stays: More than I can count–basically one year of serialized hospital stays during hi-dose chemotherapy and following amputation surgery, 2 babies born in hospitals, various small-ish surgeries.

    Phobias: Rats and scary men in bathrooms or under beds or in closets, or behind partially-opened doors.

    Quote: “Your Mom goes to College” -Napoleon Dynamite

    Religion: Mormon, with a twist of Quaker and a splash of Pagan.

    Siblings: Five–Older sis in SLC; oldest bro in Oregon; youngest bro in NoCarolina; youngest sis in Riverside, CA. Also, a Japanese foreign exchange student sister that’s been AWOL for the past 8 years (Sachiko–where are you these days??).

    Time I wake up: on weekdays, 6:20, then 6:30. On weekends, 8-ish.

    Unusual talent or skill: Doing the “wave” with my eyebrows and touching my tongue to my nose.

    Vegetable I refuse to eat: I don’t think there is one.

    Worst habit: Only screwing lids on jars partways.

    X-rays: Way more than I could ever count (due to bone cancer).

    Yummy foods I make: Bread, cookies, cakes, pastries. Baked potatoes. Avocado, bell papper & mushroom sandwiches.

    Zodiac sign: Gemini. Two-faced.

  • shopping

    I have no patience for it, really. When I was in high school and I needed to buy two pairs of pants, I went to a department store, pulled the two pairs of pants I needed off of the rack and bought them. Mission accomplished. My foreign-exchange student sister, who accompanied me on that errand, was shocked. She couldn’t understand how I could know what I wanted and then buy it, just like that. No browsing, perusing, debating. Just a simple purchase.

    Today I went to a store to buy a new purse. I realized last week that the frayed handle on my current purse was sort of ratty-looking (even John pointed out that it was looking trashy, so you know it’s pretty bad). I figured it could be a quick 15 or so minutes at the store to locate a replacement. Not so. I couldn’t find anything tasteful, simple, well-made, and unleather. Also, the whole time I was there I realized that what I really wanted to be doing was sitting in my cozy pink armchair reading about 19th century hospital systems. Or riding my bike. Or sitting in my coffee garden. Or nuzzling the soft white stripe on Ellycat’s forehead. Or continuing to wear my worn-in purse….

  • the moment….


    E addressing the City Council
    Originally uploaded by pilgrimgirl.

    E addressing the City Council last Tuesday. A very intimidating moment for such a young girl :)

    More pics on flickr (click the above photo to view them)…

  • java, java, java

    I don’t care much for coffee…I have the strong Mormon prohibition against it and, IMO, it’s just bitter nasty stuff. And then there’s the fact that I worked in a coffee shop during my early college years and I just lost interest in the smell after inhaling it for hours a day. Also, I was really shocked recently to learn that the only commodity that the US imports more of than coffee is OIL. Yes, we buy that much coffee. Incroyable!

    [Note: The exception to my coffee dislike being coffee-flavored ice cream, which is awesome.]

    However, my garden OOZES coffee smell. Just today I amended my soil with worm castings and coffee grounds. The sun was out and the soil was warm. My plot smelled more ripe with expresso than Starbucks. This is the first year that I’ve used coffee as a soil additive. And now I’m wondering if my tomatoes will have a slight java flavor? Hmm….

  • what i learned from city council

    [Note: coming soon will be a picture of E w/our local mayor–as soon as I find the cardreader for my dig camera]
    –you’re supposed to wear black to City Council meetings. Black suits. with a button down shirt for men and pastel blouse for women (unless you’re Christina Shea, then you wear a pale green suit). me, I was really glad I had changed out of my jeans and t-shirt and was at least wearing the requisite black pants.
    –not saying the pledge of allegiance feels weirder there.
    –the mayor has her own on-call photographer to take PR shots w/schoolchildren being recognized at the beginning of the meeting
    –when E is in front of a large audience, she completely freezes…with a cute, rather lopsided grin on her face
    –E’s award-winning drawing wasn’t her most artistic creation. rather, it fit the event theme better than other submissions–a lesson E learned well in the PTA Reflections contest, too.

  • open circles

    When I was a kid and we had to underline and circle various parts of speech on a ditto page, I used to hate the circling part. Because inevitably there would be a word I would need to circle that was hypehnated and carried over to the next line. I would be confused about whether I should make a complete ring around each separate section of the word, or whether I should draw an open-ended circle around each side of the word.

    I usually settled on the latter but it never quite felt right. I hated the feeling of the open-ended circle. It mocked the other neatly-ringed and underlined words on my page. It just sat there. Open. Unfinished. A gaping mouth expressing my own uncertainty.

  • amendment

    Yesterday I send the following email message out to several friends and family members:
    ———-
    Perhaps you’ve heard that the LDS Church has officially taken the position “that an amendment to the Constitution of the United States is necessary to protect and preserve the institution of marriage between a man and a woman.”

    The following links show the church’s press release on this topic and Elder Nelson’s signature added to the Religious Coalition for Marriage.

    Join me in a campaign to show that there are Mormons who DO NOT support this constitutional amendment. Please put this bumper sticker on your car and park in a highly visible space in your ward parking lot each Sunday.

    If you can, please buy more than one of these stickers and hand them out to your LDS friends. Also, please forward this email to all who might be interested and feel free to spread the word via blogs, email lists, etc.
    ——–
    Someone replied:
    ——–
    I’m sure that there are LDS that don’t sustain the Apostles, but I’m not one of them. I have to admit that I don’t understand why you would have sent this…or why you would even propagate it to anyone at all.
    ——-
    My reply:
    ——-
    1) I sent this out because I believe I don’t believe such an amendment to the U.S. Constitution is necessary to preserve marriage.
    2) I think it is important for LDS to know that it is possible for members to disagree on political issues and still be faithful church members. As it says in the press release on this issue:
    “Because national campaigns on moral, social or political issues often become divisive, the Church urges those who participate in public debate — including its own members — to be respectful of each other. While disagreements on matters of principle may be deeply held, an atmosphere of civility and mutual respect is most conducive to the strength of a democratic society.”
    I see nothing in their statement that says all church members must support this amendment. Rather, I see latitude for a spectrum of opinions.
    ——-

  • techno-dependency

    Last night we got home super late from Claremont. So late that I quickly brushed my teeth and crawled into bed without plugging in my leg.

    You see, each night I plug in my prosthetic leg into a wall socket so the battery in my robotic knee will be all ‘charged up’ for the next day. Charging takes about two hours, so it makes sense to plug in at night–the charging cord is only 2 ft long so it’s unwieldly to get my juice at any other time of day (while I am actually wearing the leg).

    So first thing when I got up this morning, I plugged in and headed for the shower. I figured I could get at least half of a charge (about 12 hours-worth) during the time it would take me to get ready for church. I would put my leg on last thing and should have enough juice to make it through the day.

    All went as planned. Until I put my leg on. And then I realized that in my haste to get to bed the night before I had neglected to replace the valve that completes the suction on my leg and I couldn’t find it anywhere. The valve is kind of hard to decribe, but basically it’s a small metal disk that screws in on the inside of leg socket. I remove the valve to ‘break’ the suction of my socket when donning or doffing my leg. Without the valve I can’t complete the suction that holds my leg on. So when the valve went missing this morning I realized I was sunk. No valve, no suction. No suction, no wearing the leg. No wearing the leg meant crutches. Ugh.

    Fortunately I was able to riffle through a basket of spare parts and found an old leaky valve that fit my current leg. I knew that it would be annoying to wear a leaky valve–meaning that it would’t provide perfect suction and let a slow stream of air leak into the socket (uncomfortable), but I figured it would work well enough until I found my real valve. Which it did–I found the right one, with E’s help, under the sewing table after we returned from church.

    So…as I plugged in, searched for a valve, etc this morning, I was stuck by how dependent I am on technology, and how vulnerable I am because of this dependence. Without electricity I can’t use my prosthesis. Without that small metal valve, my leg is no good, either. As much as I feel that I am in control of my life, so much of what I do depends on the metal parts and the microprocessor that facilitate my mobility. As much as I resent the way I must depend on such technology, I am so glad to have it. It allows me to be me.

  • Make me smile…

    Ride bikes with me to the University Center. Where we stop by our favorite bookstore and C&E spend their monthly book allowance as the owner chats with them about which books they’ve read lately. Then go in Trader Joe’s and buy some snacks for the weekend and a few necessities (milk, blueberries, goat-milk yogurt). Riding home we pass the kids’ art teacher walking to yoga class. Smile and hear her admiration that we ride our bikes to the store. Let E lead the bike brigade and watch her making good choices about crossing busy intersections. Arrive home out of breath, but happy. And see the newest pink rosebuds and double impatiens blooming on the porch and the clematis vine that has recently ‘woken up’ and is starting to climb the wall.
    :)

  • memory lane

    It’s weird to stumble across a picture of my high school self on the Internet.

    In 1988 I attended a journalism summer camp at CalPoly, sponsored by the LA Times. The photo they took of me and my cohort that year is on their website. I remember that camp well, and the little portable manual typewriter that I used in my workshop classes….

    [Do you see me in the picture? Hint: I’m on the end of a row]