"Well, that makes sense. My sister is almost a man." -Michael, 1st grade
"Your pendant stare does not work on me. I have no soul to burn." -Rosco, 4th
"I don't really think K-Love is that positive."
"I don't call that a headband. I call that a giant ponytail holder"-Jacob, 2nd
"Did you just say grease nugget?" -me
"Miss Bradford, what's a grease nugget?" -Alex, 4th
"You don't figure out how old someone is based on how tall they are." -Jeremy, 5h
"These boys tire me out." -Jayla, kinder
"You were born in the 70s? That's when they made peace." -Ali, 3rd
"Did you bring me a big box of chocolate for Valentine's Day?" -me
"No. OH! But I did get you a rock from recess. It's in my shoe." -Gabriel, 2nd
Me: "Nate."
Nate: "You remind me of my Uncle Emilio."
Me: "I remind you of a man?"
Nate: "Only because you make those funny faces and talk in voices."
Nate: "This one time we had a Michael Jackson wrestling match. I was the white Michael Jackson and my brother was the black Michael Jackson, and my Uncle Emilio was the Chinese referee. You're both funny like that. But he's funnier than you."
Me: "Wow, you are just insulting me all over the place today."
Nate: "I'm sorry. But you shouldn't have brought it up."
Me: "I didn't bring it up; you did."
Nate: "No, you did...by talking in that funny voice."
Thursday, March 4, 2010
Wednesday, February 10, 2010
"Foo, when was the last time you picked cotton? You work at the Gap."
Here's the deal: I don't often (or naturally) laugh out loud. I'm violently opposed to the polite laugh. This is only a problem when people expect the polite laugh...or think they're funny when, to me, they obviously are not. This could be viewed as socially unacceptable...or you could consider me rude. Granted, if you're reading this, you probably know me and understand that I don't subscribe to Social Norms Quarterly.
I only bring this up as there is someone that appears quite nearly into my daily life. He makes unfunny jokes and inappropriate asides. I don't laugh at them. And I rarely acknowledge them. Apparently I need to start, because there is this gaping disconnect. Most times, he repeats himself. Not just repeats himself, but opens with the intro, "Maybe you didn't hear my joke..." or "I said...". Given that I am seriously hard of hearing, he might think that I actually haven't heard him. Also given the number of times this has happened and I have replied, "No, I heard you.", you'd think that he'd stop. Maybe I'll just start yelling, "HA!" every time he makes an attempt. (The Daniel Toshian Tourette's "LOVELY SWEATER!" type shout that I'm picturing would really do the trick quite quickly.)
Lest this become a total negative Nancy post, I'll get to the point of where my thoughts went with this: I love to laugh. Since I don't laugh out loud much, when I do laugh, I laugh with my entire body. There are several levels of the Jill laugh. There is some bending at the waist involved. Perhaps some clapping. Maybe a "Whoo" of sorts as a cooldown. If I'm sitting; I'm slapping the table. Once it gets super intense, I'll probably be stomping my feet. Perhaps jumping in a circle whilst stomping. It's ridiculous. If you've seen it, you know. If you've contributed to it, I thank you. This whole thing really made me take a trip down the lane of memories...to when I laughed hardest; with whom I laugh the best.
I'll start with the summer of 1993. I spent the majority of that summer doing nothing but riding around in a jeep listening to Blues Traveler, or in Gilly's basement with the same cast of characters nearly every night. There were 3 specific boys that had a mission: to make me laugh so hard that I would pee my pants. No, seriously. (And I think most of you know how serious that is.) Those boys were Tim Steil, JDubs, and Mike Simpson. The three winning situations occured on a tennis court (Mike), in a toybox in my basement (Josh), and running alongside my parents' minivan on Clark Street at 25 mph (Tim). There were also many runner-up type situations that involved wrestling, towel snapping and frog faces.
Amber and Maggie were also major players in my high school laughter. Man alive, those ladies are actually the ones I've laughed the longest and most knowingly with...whether it was in making fun of each other, writing our own songs, or riding Pee Wee Herman bikes down brick lined streets...those girls will forever be stout in my book. I don't know that I could even retell a story about these 2 and have it communicate what they mean to me. I wear those close to my heart.
There are certain people that don't require words or even coherent sentences to make me laugh. Few and far between, those people. There's Melissa Cahill with her ham sammiches and fingerbending, Patrick Sayers and karaoke, Kjersti Heer and our television magic, Sarah McAlpin and high heels, and Edubs with the dealbreaker list; these people have made my life richer through the years.
One October I took a roadtrip with the brothers Cochenour and Tony Nettekoven, who was running a marathon in Albequerque. This was shortly after Tim had moved down to the metro area, and was the first time we'd really hung out. He certainly had a feel for Steve and Tony's relationship, but throwing Jill into the mix changed the dynamic for him. We were sitting in an Arby's after the marathon and a trip through REI. I'm not sure what happened in there, but Steve and Tony went to their grumpy-miscommunicating-sarcastic places. Which I thoroughly detested and enjoyed (instigator older child, anyone?). I was sitting next to Tim, across from the 2 of them. The plate glass window faced the rugged skyline. Tony thoughtfully looks out and asks, "So there're 4 kinds of landscapes...a mesa, a butte, a plateau....what's the fourth one?" Steve looks up and says, "A mountain?" completely straight faced. Hysterical. I, with food in my mouth, cannot stop laughing. Looking at Steve or Tony doesn't help. They're both torn between being annoyed with one another and laughing at me. And I can't swallow my sandwich for the laughing. So I turn my body around and attempt to climb into the both behind us....Tim absolutely clueless to what is going on. Classic.
And don't even get me started on the summer of 2008. The highlights include a night around a campfire with 3 highschool students and Mr. Boshangles, evenings on the golf cart with Bernie and Valerie, "playing maintenance", Alex's impression of Tomash's "Caio for now!", and ANYTIME I spent more than 3 minutes with RACHAEL SHEETS!
I realize that this blog might not mean anything to you, but it made me laugh. Which is entirely possible because I am the funniest person that I know. Essentially, the next time you crack wise around me, don't be offended if I don't guffaw. But if I do, know that you stand in priveledged and sometimes lonely company.
I only bring this up as there is someone that appears quite nearly into my daily life. He makes unfunny jokes and inappropriate asides. I don't laugh at them. And I rarely acknowledge them. Apparently I need to start, because there is this gaping disconnect. Most times, he repeats himself. Not just repeats himself, but opens with the intro, "Maybe you didn't hear my joke..." or "I said...". Given that I am seriously hard of hearing, he might think that I actually haven't heard him. Also given the number of times this has happened and I have replied, "No, I heard you.", you'd think that he'd stop. Maybe I'll just start yelling, "HA!" every time he makes an attempt. (The Daniel Toshian Tourette's "LOVELY SWEATER!" type shout that I'm picturing would really do the trick quite quickly.)
Lest this become a total negative Nancy post, I'll get to the point of where my thoughts went with this: I love to laugh. Since I don't laugh out loud much, when I do laugh, I laugh with my entire body. There are several levels of the Jill laugh. There is some bending at the waist involved. Perhaps some clapping. Maybe a "Whoo" of sorts as a cooldown. If I'm sitting; I'm slapping the table. Once it gets super intense, I'll probably be stomping my feet. Perhaps jumping in a circle whilst stomping. It's ridiculous. If you've seen it, you know. If you've contributed to it, I thank you. This whole thing really made me take a trip down the lane of memories...to when I laughed hardest; with whom I laugh the best.
I'll start with the summer of 1993. I spent the majority of that summer doing nothing but riding around in a jeep listening to Blues Traveler, or in Gilly's basement with the same cast of characters nearly every night. There were 3 specific boys that had a mission: to make me laugh so hard that I would pee my pants. No, seriously. (And I think most of you know how serious that is.) Those boys were Tim Steil, JDubs, and Mike Simpson. The three winning situations occured on a tennis court (Mike), in a toybox in my basement (Josh), and running alongside my parents' minivan on Clark Street at 25 mph (Tim). There were also many runner-up type situations that involved wrestling, towel snapping and frog faces.
Amber and Maggie were also major players in my high school laughter. Man alive, those ladies are actually the ones I've laughed the longest and most knowingly with...whether it was in making fun of each other, writing our own songs, or riding Pee Wee Herman bikes down brick lined streets...those girls will forever be stout in my book. I don't know that I could even retell a story about these 2 and have it communicate what they mean to me. I wear those close to my heart.
There are certain people that don't require words or even coherent sentences to make me laugh. Few and far between, those people. There's Melissa Cahill with her ham sammiches and fingerbending, Patrick Sayers and karaoke, Kjersti Heer and our television magic, Sarah McAlpin and high heels, and Edubs with the dealbreaker list; these people have made my life richer through the years.
One October I took a roadtrip with the brothers Cochenour and Tony Nettekoven, who was running a marathon in Albequerque. This was shortly after Tim had moved down to the metro area, and was the first time we'd really hung out. He certainly had a feel for Steve and Tony's relationship, but throwing Jill into the mix changed the dynamic for him. We were sitting in an Arby's after the marathon and a trip through REI. I'm not sure what happened in there, but Steve and Tony went to their grumpy-miscommunicating-sarcastic places. Which I thoroughly detested and enjoyed (instigator older child, anyone?). I was sitting next to Tim, across from the 2 of them. The plate glass window faced the rugged skyline. Tony thoughtfully looks out and asks, "So there're 4 kinds of landscapes...a mesa, a butte, a plateau....what's the fourth one?" Steve looks up and says, "A mountain?" completely straight faced. Hysterical. I, with food in my mouth, cannot stop laughing. Looking at Steve or Tony doesn't help. They're both torn between being annoyed with one another and laughing at me. And I can't swallow my sandwich for the laughing. So I turn my body around and attempt to climb into the both behind us....Tim absolutely clueless to what is going on. Classic.
And don't even get me started on the summer of 2008. The highlights include a night around a campfire with 3 highschool students and Mr. Boshangles, evenings on the golf cart with Bernie and Valerie, "playing maintenance", Alex's impression of Tomash's "Caio for now!", and ANYTIME I spent more than 3 minutes with RACHAEL SHEETS!
I realize that this blog might not mean anything to you, but it made me laugh. Which is entirely possible because I am the funniest person that I know. Essentially, the next time you crack wise around me, don't be offended if I don't guffaw. But if I do, know that you stand in priveledged and sometimes lonely company.
Thursday, January 28, 2010
"Because I really love pockets, you know. And velcro."
never to be outdone by kid quotes, here's a little adult quote interlude. not that you could tell the difference, in most cases.
"No more potatoes down the drain." -random dude in T & M's parking lot
"All these girls are wearing peacoats....we gotta get outta here!" -random dude outside the Wicked Garden
"No one ever died from being overdramatic." -Joyce Sutton on the obvs
"I don't like outer space. It's too big." -Andy Cumpton Junior on Avatar
"This is not the same!" -Micah on disappointing backyard shenanigans
"Put a couple of drinks in that kid and see what happens. Like a gremlin."
"Classiest bar in Arvada. In a strip mall. Happy Birthday, Kevin! Smells like gasoline and diarrhea." -Erin on the Red Lion
"Put your hand on the wall and shake it!" -Charlie on Kevin
"So then people will think I'm furry like Esau." -JRe
"No more potatoes down the drain." -random dude in T & M's parking lot
"All these girls are wearing peacoats....we gotta get outta here!" -random dude outside the Wicked Garden
"No one ever died from being overdramatic." -Joyce Sutton on the obvs
"I don't like outer space. It's too big." -Andy Cumpton Junior on Avatar
"This is not the same!" -Micah on disappointing backyard shenanigans
"Put a couple of drinks in that kid and see what happens. Like a gremlin."
"Classiest bar in Arvada. In a strip mall. Happy Birthday, Kevin! Smells like gasoline and diarrhea." -Erin on the Red Lion
"Put your hand on the wall and shake it!" -Charlie on Kevin
"So then people will think I'm furry like Esau." -JRe
"Arts and crafts, arts and crafts they fade....fade away."
"You have a cowboy voice." -Haley, kindergarten
"I don't want to deal with all that paperwork." -Jacob, 2nd grade
"You're lucky. Most people don't even have their own Bible. They have to go to church to read it."
"Do you even know math?" -Leo, 3rd grade
"You're talking like a Star Wars Jedi Master." -Michael, 2nd grade
"You know, you don't have to say 'Not OK' three times." -Maria, age 4
"I think I'm slightly allergic to stinky water."
"You are the weirdest person I've ever met." -Angel, 5th grade
"Do the Hellen Keller and talk to your hips." -Gabriel, 2nd grade
"One day she just figured it out with her big ole giant brain."
"Then the baby smelled it with its big old giant nose."
"You lucky little rascal."
(I'm editing a piece written by Gabriel....'They got married. Then they got 3 kids.'
I read the sentences aloud and ask, 'Gabe, does that sound right? Did they go to the store and get 3 kids?')
"No. They went to Haiti and got 3 kids. Just kidding."
"I don't want to deal with all that paperwork." -Jacob, 2nd grade
"You're lucky. Most people don't even have their own Bible. They have to go to church to read it."
"Do you even know math?" -Leo, 3rd grade
"You're talking like a Star Wars Jedi Master." -Michael, 2nd grade
"You know, you don't have to say 'Not OK' three times." -Maria, age 4
"I think I'm slightly allergic to stinky water."
"You are the weirdest person I've ever met." -Angel, 5th grade
"Do the Hellen Keller and talk to your hips." -Gabriel, 2nd grade
"One day she just figured it out with her big ole giant brain."
"Then the baby smelled it with its big old giant nose."
"You lucky little rascal."
(I'm editing a piece written by Gabriel....'They got married. Then they got 3 kids.'
I read the sentences aloud and ask, 'Gabe, does that sound right? Did they go to the store and get 3 kids?')
"No. They went to Haiti and got 3 kids. Just kidding."
Sunday, January 17, 2010
"I don't have time to maintain these regrets...."
He is jealous for me
Loves like a hurricane
I am a tree
Bending beneath the weight of his wind and mercy.
When all of a sudden,
I am unaware of these afflictions eclipsed by glory
And I realise just how beautiful You are
And how great Your affections are for me
And oh, how He loves us so
Oh how He loves us
How He loves us all
We are His portion and He is our prize
Drawn to redemption by the grace in His eyes
If grace is an ocean, we're all sinking
So Heaven meets earth like a sloppy wet kiss
And my heart turns violently inside of my chest
I don't have time to maintain these regrets
When I think about the way...
Oh, how He loves us.
Loves like a hurricane
I am a tree
Bending beneath the weight of his wind and mercy.
When all of a sudden,
I am unaware of these afflictions eclipsed by glory
And I realise just how beautiful You are
And how great Your affections are for me
And oh, how He loves us so
Oh how He loves us
How He loves us all
We are His portion and He is our prize
Drawn to redemption by the grace in His eyes
If grace is an ocean, we're all sinking
So Heaven meets earth like a sloppy wet kiss
And my heart turns violently inside of my chest
I don't have time to maintain these regrets
When I think about the way...
Oh, how He loves us.
(original by John Mark McMillan)
David Crowder Band cover version here:
Wednesday, January 6, 2010
"They are idiot mantras that exist in a prearranged cycle."
"To begin...to begin...how to start? I'm hungry. I should get coffee. Coffee would help me think. I should write something first and then reward myself with coffee. Coffee and a muffin."
I've ever used other peoples' words to communicate. I attribute it to being an actress for so many years (and quite emotionally stunted for many, as well). In lieu of naming my own feelings and sentiments, I've used those of others. I've also long been attracted to stories of crazy girls. I love a character study, I love connecting with idiosyncrasies...even if I don't understand them, I am forever fascinated. I also find much comfort in re-reading books and re-watching films. At a loss? A standstill? Looking for direction? Always go to that which inspired and sparked creativity previously. It's been a couple of those kind of weeks for me.
I just yesterday read my favorite chapter of a favorite book, Girl, Interrupted. And watching Adaptation (by the screenwriting genius of Charlie Kaufman) again tonight was the perfect illustration of Velocity vs. Viscosity. Terrific. Makes me want to go back to The Bell Jar and Borderlines next.
"Do I have an original thought in my head? My bald head? Maybe if I were happier my hair wouldn't be falling out. Life is short. I need to make the most of it. Today is the first day of the rest of my life. I'm a walking cliche. I need to go to the doctor and have my leg checked. There's something wrong. A bump. I need to stop putting things off. The dentist called again. I'm way overdue. If I stopped putting things off I'd be happier. All I do is sit around on my fat ass. If my ass wasn't fat, I'd be happier. I wouldn't have to wear these shirts with the tails out all the time. Like that's fooling anyone. Fat ass. I should start jogging again. Five miles a day. Really do it this time. Maybe rock climbing. I need to turn my life around. What do I need to do? I need to fall in love. I need to have a girlfriend. I need to read more. Improve myself. What if I learned Russian or something? Or took up an instrument? I could speak Chinese. I would be the screenwriter who speaks Chinese. And plays the oboe. That would be cool. I need to get my hair cut short. Stop trying to fool everyone into thinking I have a full head of hair. How pathetic is that? Just be real. Confident. Isn't that what women are attracted to? Men don't have to be attractive. But that's not true, especially these days. Almost as much pressure on men as there is on women these days. Why should I be made to feel I have to apologize for my existence? Maybe it's my brain chemistry. Maybe that's what's wrong with me: bad chemistry. All my troubles and anxiety can be reduced to a chemical imbalance or misfiring synapses or something. I need to get help for that. But I'll still be ugly, though. Nothing's gonna change that."
"Insanity comes in two basic varieties: slow and fast. I'm not talking about onset or duration, I mean the quality of the insanity, the day-to-day business of being nuts. There are a lot of names: depression, catatonia, mania, anxiety, agitation. They don't tell you much. ...Viscosity and velocity are opposites, yet they can look the same. Viscosity causes the stillness of disinclination, velocity causes the stillness of fascination. An observer cannot tell if a person is silent and still because inner life has stalled or because inner life is transfixingly busy."
"Ok, so I need to establish the theme. Maybe banana nut. That's a good muffin."
-Charile Kaufman, Adaptation
-Susanna Kaysen, Girl, Interrupted
I've ever used other peoples' words to communicate. I attribute it to being an actress for so many years (and quite emotionally stunted for many, as well). In lieu of naming my own feelings and sentiments, I've used those of others. I've also long been attracted to stories of crazy girls. I love a character study, I love connecting with idiosyncrasies...even if I don't understand them, I am forever fascinated. I also find much comfort in re-reading books and re-watching films. At a loss? A standstill? Looking for direction? Always go to that which inspired and sparked creativity previously. It's been a couple of those kind of weeks for me.
I just yesterday read my favorite chapter of a favorite book, Girl, Interrupted. And watching Adaptation (by the screenwriting genius of Charlie Kaufman) again tonight was the perfect illustration of Velocity vs. Viscosity. Terrific. Makes me want to go back to The Bell Jar and Borderlines next.
"Do I have an original thought in my head? My bald head? Maybe if I were happier my hair wouldn't be falling out. Life is short. I need to make the most of it. Today is the first day of the rest of my life. I'm a walking cliche. I need to go to the doctor and have my leg checked. There's something wrong. A bump. I need to stop putting things off. The dentist called again. I'm way overdue. If I stopped putting things off I'd be happier. All I do is sit around on my fat ass. If my ass wasn't fat, I'd be happier. I wouldn't have to wear these shirts with the tails out all the time. Like that's fooling anyone. Fat ass. I should start jogging again. Five miles a day. Really do it this time. Maybe rock climbing. I need to turn my life around. What do I need to do? I need to fall in love. I need to have a girlfriend. I need to read more. Improve myself. What if I learned Russian or something? Or took up an instrument? I could speak Chinese. I would be the screenwriter who speaks Chinese. And plays the oboe. That would be cool. I need to get my hair cut short. Stop trying to fool everyone into thinking I have a full head of hair. How pathetic is that? Just be real. Confident. Isn't that what women are attracted to? Men don't have to be attractive. But that's not true, especially these days. Almost as much pressure on men as there is on women these days. Why should I be made to feel I have to apologize for my existence? Maybe it's my brain chemistry. Maybe that's what's wrong with me: bad chemistry. All my troubles and anxiety can be reduced to a chemical imbalance or misfiring synapses or something. I need to get help for that. But I'll still be ugly, though. Nothing's gonna change that."
"Insanity comes in two basic varieties: slow and fast. I'm not talking about onset or duration, I mean the quality of the insanity, the day-to-day business of being nuts. There are a lot of names: depression, catatonia, mania, anxiety, agitation. They don't tell you much. ...Viscosity and velocity are opposites, yet they can look the same. Viscosity causes the stillness of disinclination, velocity causes the stillness of fascination. An observer cannot tell if a person is silent and still because inner life has stalled or because inner life is transfixingly busy."
"Ok, so I need to establish the theme. Maybe banana nut. That's a good muffin."
-Charile Kaufman, Adaptation
-Susanna Kaysen, Girl, Interrupted
Thursday, December 31, 2009
"I don't want to miss a single thing you do tonight."
well, well, well. at this point it's about all i have to say. i've long had a list of things to blog about, but i haven't. most likely if you've talked to me in the last 3 months, we've discussed bits of it. among the topics: all things cynical, grace, community, the character of GOD (specifically old testament vs. new), my acting/auditioning/(in)ability to access emotions onstage vs. off, my relationship with my dad shadowing how i resent boys who tell me what to do, and of course, more and more kid stories. if any of the aforementioned interest you, let me know and i'll expound.
i had a chat with an old friend last night about how i don't write anymore (he doesn't so much either) and how that affects us. i've been tempted to write, but haven't for fear of my intentions not being communicated. after the chat with him, and the fact that i found and read my journals in my recent move (ok: not-so-recent move, but recent unpacking), i realize how much i need to start again.
returning from a weeklong trip to illinois, as ever, has stirred up things in me that i didn't realize were there. hit me pretty strongly. still digesting that, and unsure of how to work through most of it. i hate being so cryptic, and also hate to be so cliche (like posting an introspective entry on the last day of the year, jill?). basically, it's astounding to still be going through the same thing(s) after processing them so many times before. it's also ridiculously pedestrian, predictable and reassuring. did i mention that i've been journaling since 1996? good googly moogly, that's 13 years.
on the bright side, i do know that once i process and come to a place of spewing things out, there are lots of people to listen. more importantly, people that i love, trust, respect, and value. if 2009 did nothing else for me, it made me realize that i'm favored and fortunate to have a plethora of those who understand. or attempt.
before this turns into a bigger piece of prosaic banality, i'm off to hussy myself up and enjoy the evening. finish strong, beezys.
i had a chat with an old friend last night about how i don't write anymore (he doesn't so much either) and how that affects us. i've been tempted to write, but haven't for fear of my intentions not being communicated. after the chat with him, and the fact that i found and read my journals in my recent move (ok: not-so-recent move, but recent unpacking), i realize how much i need to start again.
returning from a weeklong trip to illinois, as ever, has stirred up things in me that i didn't realize were there. hit me pretty strongly. still digesting that, and unsure of how to work through most of it. i hate being so cryptic, and also hate to be so cliche (like posting an introspective entry on the last day of the year, jill?). basically, it's astounding to still be going through the same thing(s) after processing them so many times before. it's also ridiculously pedestrian, predictable and reassuring. did i mention that i've been journaling since 1996? good googly moogly, that's 13 years.
on the bright side, i do know that once i process and come to a place of spewing things out, there are lots of people to listen. more importantly, people that i love, trust, respect, and value. if 2009 did nothing else for me, it made me realize that i'm favored and fortunate to have a plethora of those who understand. or attempt.
before this turns into a bigger piece of prosaic banality, i'm off to hussy myself up and enjoy the evening. finish strong, beezys.
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