Beastocity

Getting Old

2010-03-05T15:22:00.000-08:00

Beastocity: 5.5

(Refresher: Beastocity refers to the rate of change of something in my life over a certain period of time. In this example I gave myself a 5.5 because while I’ve noticed myself getting older (duh) I’ve been slowly realizing the effects of aging. If I woke up and was suddenly 45 then I would give myself a Beastocity rating of 347. Make sense?)

So back to me getting old… Let me explain before you write off my 23 year old self. I’ve always had this adventurous mentality where I think I can physically do just about anything. When I was growing up I would run around and climb trees barefoot, race friends until I was dangerously wheezing, and dive off the tops of boats. When I was only a year old I even hijacked my sister’s tricycle and went zooming down the face of a hill. What’s the worst that could happen? (Well in that last scenario I ended up with stitches…) As I’ve gotten older this has usually manifest itself in lifting things. I have this idea that I could lift just about anything within reason. In high school I used to entertain my friends by picking them up and spinning them around. Although I realized that this didn’t always work when I tried picking up one of my friends on the football team.

However, recently I’ve noticed that those kinds of stunts don’t really work anymore. At first it started with a sore back here and there after lifting things incorrectly and more recently it’s evolved into bruises. A few months ago I squeezed my arm through a tiny little crevice in our office copy machine to retrieve a paint brush (long story…) and my reasoning went something along the lines of “If my arm can squeeze through here than it will fit and if it doesn’t fit then it just won’t! What’s the worst that could happen? It’s just my arm…” Needless to say an hour later after the paint brush had been returned safely to its home my forearm was bright red and sore for about a week.

You thought I would have learned my lesson then but just yesterday I found myself with my arm squeezed into a post office mailbox on the side of Wilshire Boulevard trying to retrieve a stuck envelope. It must have been quite a sight to the hundreds driving by to see a girl with her arm halfway into the blue metal mailbox in the middle of the day. After smashing both arms into the mailbox and having no luck getting the envelope I returned to my desk with fresh bruises on each arm.

Now only if I could blame my lack of postings on my blog from old age…

On Feminism

2009-12-17T17:53:00.001-08:00

Beastocity: 3
(no, I didn't become a creepy old guy. that would be qualify for 3 to the millionth power)

“Yes.”
Apparently the question had gone around to all the women in the room and I had just pulled out of a side conversation in time to hear “Jenn, are you a feminist?” Without pausing to think, I simply replied “Yes.” Although there are a million definitions and ideas of what a feminist looks like (see popular t-shirt above) I felt pretty confident that I was one of them. I was surprised to hear that I was the only woman in the room that said that they were a feminist. The other women seemed uncertain about identifying themselves as ‘a feminist’ and felt more comfortable describing what was feminist-y about them and some coming to the conclusion of “I guess so…” I don’t blame them! So often feminists are thought of as bra-burning-angry-unshowered-unshaven-she-woman-man-haters. Who would want to identify themselves with that and make all the men in the room break out in a cold sweat and locate the nearest exit? Not me. So recently (since this happened just last week) I’ve been thinking about why I would call myself a feminist.

From an early age I felt a strong desire to break out of traditional gender roles. I refused to wear dresses for a period of time in elementary school. I insisted on running around and climbing trees barefoot. In high school I had one of my guy friends show me how to lift weights because I was so tired of people not allowing me to carry heavy things. Coming into college I gladly told people that I didn’t know how to cook (which I think I avoided learning on purpose) and would find many an occasion to flex so that I could enjoy the surprised looks on people’s faces.

But feminism isn’t just about defying gender roles, especially if most of that comes out of bitterness and angst. My kind of feminism comes from a longing and desire to see everyone become the person that God created them to be without the barriers of gender roles. I desire to see both men and women encouraging each other and fighting the “roles” of society to fulfill their God given purposes. That sounds amazing! I think that (along with processing my own angst!) is why I’m a feminist.
So, yes, I do also have my own angst (which my friends and boyfriend lovingly and patiently help me to work through) which has often given me a little attitude around my office. It’s getting better (although this afternoon I did try to scarily brandish a knife in the kitchen because I was getting annoyed…tee hee) and I was able to keep a level head when I had a particularly interesting conversation with one of the principal architects in our office today.

I delivered this huge box to him the other day and he came up to my desk with it this afternoon excitedly telling me that it was a grill. He was so excited because apparently one of our consultants had sent us a small grill last year and it was stolen (I had never heard about any such story). So he was saying that he wanted a safe place to store it and I assumed that was why he was involving me in this. Ha. Next thing I know someone else asked him what he was going to do with a grill and he looked right at me and he said “No, it’s for YOU. It’s for balcony hour!” Cringe. Poor guy. He was smiling so big and looked so happy and I must have looked like I was in severe pain. Half of me had my mouth open trying to smile and the other half of me was trying to figure out how to look as disinterested as possible so that I could break it to him I wasn’t about ‘fire up the barbie’ on a weekly basis. It’s enough that I slice bread and wash fruit for them every Thursday afternoon for our office happy hour on the balcony but… grilling? No way. I think the only thing that saved me was that I was still slightly amused at situation (who sends grills for holiday presents? Aren’t we in a recession?) Luckily I kept my mouth shut (although statements like “yeah, right” and “YOU can grill, I’m not grilling” were close to surfacing) because after we opened it, it turned out to just be frozen meat from a famous bbq place in Texas (apparently he had just opened a corner and saw the words BBQ). Needless to say, I was spared from becoming “Jennifer the Grill Master” and now I only have to figure out how we’re going to heat and serve several pounds of ribs, sausage, and brisket.

Lucky me :)

Turtles, Porkupines... and Jenn?

2009-12-03T17:35:00.000-08:00

Beastocity: - 5

I highly value social situations that are not awkward. If I have a conversation with someone that is not awkward, I feel deeply loved and served by that person. Growing up I saw how my mom would smooth over strange social situations – be it a blunder of a close friend or family member or sitting next to someone at the airport – she would always have something funny and friendly to say to just put everybody at ease. So I grew up and went off to college with the same value and loved meeting new people and helping them feel at ease and making potentially awkward situations as least awkward as possible.

Maybe I’ve become too hypersensitive but I think I’ve been starting to regress in my smooth social skills. Recently I’ve been having a lot of awkward social interactions with people, usually at work. And it really bothers me. Usually after each one I’m internally reprimanding myself for my own awkwardness. Usually it goes something like this “One: why am I so awkward? Two: why am I so awkward? Three: why am I so awkward? …” and so on (no joke about the numbering, I think that is my internal J-ness coming out).

Here are my least favorite that I’ve been stumbling upon:

The hallway stare: What to do when you’re walking down a long hallway and you actually make eye contact before you’re within speaking distance? Look away and then look back and say hi or something? Smile and keep staring at the other person until you can say hi? Yuck!

The mumble fumble: What to do when you’re talking with someone and they mumble something you can’t quite understand but you either laugh or say something like “yeah” anyway. Then there’s that awkward silence where you’re like wow. I guess now’s the time where I could have responded to whatever that last thing that they said was, if only I knew what it was that they said last…. Yikes!

And many, many more… I think I’m finding that the more I try to be a social tinkerbell and try and cover everything with pixie dust the more I’m just appearing awkward and nervous. Crap. What to do? Embrace awkward conversations? Laugh at yourself? Blame it all on the other person?

Suggestions, anyone?

the full life

2009-11-06T14:04:00.000-08:00

That’s how life seems right now (full, that is, and not with penguins... you'll see later). But don’t get me wrong, this isn’t a post to try and make myself seem really important or anything. It’s just that I’ve been thinking about how dense things have felt right now. By dense, I mean spending a lot of time thinking about things like ‘how God is at work in this person’s life and what you could do to lead them well’ or ‘create a birthday present for your little brother that will make up for the ways you haven’t loved him enough this year’ or ‘ponder the topic of patience in the kingdom of God and produce something that will speak to students’ or ‘what would God have for me in this next season of my life?’

It’s just not the kind of things that you can bs without some nasty serious consequences (‘I dunno, it just kinda sounded cool to spend this next season of my life trying to start the first penguin synchronized swimming colony…’). So you can imagine it sounds a little strange when one of my coworkers asks me when I want to go to lunch with her to talk about graduate school and I tell her ‘how about the week after next?’ and then she laughs at me because no one, not even architects and surely not the office mule, plan casual lunches two weeks in advance. My bad.

But what happens when you start operating at a high level of ‘density’ in your life and then you go through seasons where things are less ‘dense’? What if you’ve based how you function in relationships on your ‘denser’ seasons? What if you’ve started to have your identity rooted in how you function in your ‘denser’ seasons? What if you start believe that people love you only because of what you do and accomplish?

Then what?

I guess that’s why it’s so important to keep a Sabbath, or a day when you yell a loud ‘NO!’ to those thoughts that tell you that doing equals being and you whisper a quiet ‘yes’ to a God who says that you are loved before and after you accomplish anything. Where all you do is ask God how you should be in his presence and his love for a day.

Question is, when is my next Sabbath?

Sorry

2009-10-15T17:57:00.000-07:00

Beastocity: 17 (or something like that)

So my post-college years so far (all one and a half of them) have also provided me with some of the most emotional years of my life. Don't worry, men, I won't go into all the feminine details but let's just say hello monthly mood swings. So my point is I was really excited about posting something this week but I'm not so much in the mood anymore. It's been a long day. My apologies.

Where Art Thou, Family??

2009-10-08T17:37:00.000-07:00

Note: I'm not actually related to these people although I'm sure my distant relatives did look something like them...

Beastocity: 15 (how many months I’ve officially lived on my own)

It’s been a while since I have lived at home, like full-time lived at home. I think fall always makes me think of home. Something about the leaves flying about takes me back to my childhood (which, in reality, wasn’t that long ago…). But lately I’ve been thinking of home a lot. There are a lot of things that I have missed that are pretty important like my brother just turning 18 and becoming an eagle scout, my mom’s birthday coming up, and some other family happenings. Seeing all my family in the same location right now and how much they get to be around one another causes me to wonder how much longer I will be so far away from them (or how much longer before I make most of them move out here… hmm).

But I think I’m starting to get used to this whole living on your own thing. I’m starting to regularly do my chores, I pay bills, keep somewhat healthy plants, cook decent food, make necessary doctor appointments (man, I never realized how much stuff my parents did for me growing up…), make somewhat regular blog posts, etc. And I’ve been so grateful for my house family! In many ways we’re becoming more of a family by being more responsible about our home, being more willing to talk about our lives, being more available to listen about each other’s lives, sharing food with each other, doing fun things together, and overall getting to know each other better. We even have little plant babies named after Harry Potter characters! Never mind, I won’t take the metaphor that far (plus our plant babies sometimes get neglected… whoops). But we’re becoming more of a family.

But that does bring me to another family that has been missing lately. My blog family! What has happened to all you bloggers whose posts I count on to give me a smile and a chuckle during dull parts of my day? To feed me with intellectual nuggets on which I can chew on throughout my week? To encourage me to seek good things? Where have you gone? I know I’m not the best example, but I hope that this post inspires you to WRITE ON, FAMILY!!!

Happy anniversary to me...

2009-09-17T17:30:00.000-07:00

Beastocity: 1 year

At the beginning of this month I celebrated my one year anniversary at my job. Hooray. I still feel like I’m learning new things, although maybe not every day, at least once a week. I feel like I’ve finally warmed up to most of the people who I automatically branded as “scary.” Overall, it doesn’t really feel like a year has passed. Sure, tons has happened and college feels like at least a year ago, but I never imagined that being in one place for a year could feel short. When I first came here, I’ll admit, I was like psshhhh there’s no way I could see myself here for a year… puhleez and as I asked some of the folks how long they’d been here and heard the responses of 2 years, 5 years, 15 years… I couldn’t help but think woa… looser. And I think my one-year-ago-self would have said the same words to my present-day-self. Wow, one year. Maybe that doesn’t seem like a big deal to you and maybe I have vocational commitment issues or it could be that my gut is telling me that I haven’t arrived at my dream job yet (duh, gut, but these things take time…).

Which has also led to my recent sentiments of urrgggg, [sigh], and uhhh as I think about the next year which I will most likely be here (by the grace of God). But instead of running through my list of reasons why I should bash my job, I’d like to express my gratitude to my job and to God for providing me with this job.

Thank you God and job for growing me in my confidence to do maintenance and use tools. I feel empowered that people would come to me to help them fix broken paper shredders, jammed copiers, loose keyboard trays, lift heavy boxes, and other mysterious electronic malfunctions.

Thank you God and job for teaching me humility as I disappoint people and realizing that my knowledge in good wines is actually pretty poor and that my worth does not come from approval from others.

Thank you God and job for helping me grow slowly in my integrity by becoming a person who would interact with the boss and the building janitor in the same manner.

Thank you God and job for helping me take myself less seriously. While I used to cringe inside whenever I had to wheel the noisy cart full of groceries or beer past a conference room full of important people, thinking about how ridiculous I looked and instead trying to pull the cart in all manner of ways that would make it look least like a grocery cart and more like um.. something more graceful than a grocery cart, I now could care less as heads turn and I just push the darn cart in all of its grocery-and-beer-exploding-grocery-cart-looking-glory.

One more year, here I come!!!

But, honestly, after that it’s quits. Seriously. If you hear talk of a year three I give you permission to call up, pretend like you’re me and quit for me. Friends don’t let friends… you know.

Reflections on "Swine Flu"

2009-09-01T14:43:00.000-07:00

Beastocity: 300 (percieved), 3 (actual)

There are two types of swine flu: swine flu and “swine flu.” They are different. The first: an unkosher version of the regular flu. The second: a public hype caused by rumors and stories including that one chain email with the picture of the little kid licking a pig’s face.
So, after being diagnosed with swine flu Wednesday afternoon, it soon became apparent that I actually had “swine flu.” Now I’m happy to report that I pulled through my illness with flying colors and have made a full recovery from “swine flu.” I’d like to take a moment to share my suggestions to any of you should you find yourself in a similar situation:

- DO go to your doctor. Really, a fifteen dollar co-pay in exchange for three days off work is totally worth it.
- DO fill the prescription for the “fexpensive” medicine they prescribe you, you might actually have swine flu after all
- DON’T pay for it. If I could do things differently, I see myself using Peruvian Instant Darkness Powder (see Harry Potter) and dashing out of the pharmacy instead of shelling out $50 for 10 pills.
- DO get a thermometer with a soft flexible tip. One word: pleasant.
- DON’T be caught without bread or orange juice. They are necessary for survival. (As are the amazing friends who bring you some :)
- DO have sunflowers around. They make being quarantined a lot better.
- DON’T overdo it. Some light organizing and thinning of stacks of papers is perfect for “productive rest”
- DO disinfect after yourself. Common courtesy, folks.
- DON’T be surprised when people don’t want to touch you
- DO break quarantine and ask for a hug when you’re friend tells you she’s not scared because she has a super tough immune system. Honestly, to go without seven touches a day… crazy.
- DON’T get “swine flu” when it’s hot outside if you don’t have air conditioning
- DO get “swine flu” when it’s hot outside if you do have air conditioning
- DON’T believe your appetite when it says you want In N Out and you really know you can’t handle more than some soup. Best decision I ever made…
- DO call your doctor when you’ve felt like a normal human being for 48 hours and have them tell you that you may resume normal operation. “Swine flu” is fun, but not that fun.

Weekend, Ho!!

2009-08-21T16:40:00.000-07:00

Weekend!
The word changes meaning throughout the years and I recognize that my weekend plans don’t look like they used to so I thought I’d reflect a little about my typical weekends:

Toddler: who knows… probably some sleeping, drooling, and punching of my sister

6 years old: Dude, as long as the my little ponies are coming with me, I’ll go wherever you tell me to go and do whatever you tell me to do

10 years old: Go swimming, do homework, swim, climb my tree, swim, maybe go somewhere on my bike.

12 years old: Okay, mom, here’s how it’s going to go down. Lauren and I are going to ride our bikes to go get a doughnut for breakfast, ride around the neighborhood, play some N-64, ride to Blockbuster and rent a movie, check out the newest Beenie Babies next door at Hallmark, go to her house and watch it, maybe work on our backyard fort or make a home video narrated by our beanie babies. Yeah, don’t worry about me, see you guys later.

14 years old: Everyone is going to the movies tonight so, of course, I have to go. Plus I just got this totally cute new outfit I want to wear. But does my curfew really have to be 10pm and do you really have to pick me up in the minivan?

16 years old: Another weekend on the boat? I’m going to miss my friend’s birthday party and the school hockey game, and I won’t be able to watch the new Making The Video that’s going to be aired. Bahhh, whatever.

18 years old: Thank you Lord that we’re going on the boat again this weekend. I really just want to go read on the beach! That way I can leave the football game early and skip out on all the drama although I guess I’ll hear it all by Monday anyway. How many days until college…?

20 years old: Finally! No more class, so I figure all I need to do is finish those few books, whip up a few essays, knock out a few problem sets, hang out with a few friends, have a few meals, get a little more sleep (as long as they’re not too loud down the hall), and squeeze in a little piano practice somewhere. Yeah I can make all that happen when I get back from the conference Sunday afternoon, no problem.

23 years old: Well, since I’ve been cooped up in an office all week, I just want to get outside! Hm, maybe I’ll go for a hike or a swim, okay, that’s top of the list! But wait, I didn’t get much sleep this week so I should probably nap a lot and sleep in, yeah, early nights for me! But I haven’t seen any of my friends all week so I should go to that person’s party and hang out with them, yeah, I haven’t seen them in a long time and friends are important! Oh, and I also really need to read some of that book for the IV internship, gotta stay responsible. Maybe I’ll also get to that list of people I need to call and those emails I should respond to… yeahallwhile I do laundry, clean my room, and make some food for the week. Or maybe I’ll just get some boba first and that will help me figure it all out.

Summer Highlights

2009-08-07T16:31:00.000-07:00

Beastocity: 37

First of all, a round of applause, please. Thank you, thank you. I have made it through my first non-summer!! Yes my first summer working full time, amazing. So, yes, it is still the beginning of August, but with tests, performances, and IV around the corner, it seems to me summer proper is winding down. Here are some of my highlights:

- Having the veil of business lifted so that I was able to actually start identifying my house as my home! Our house family did many cleaning and organizing days, purchased some new furniture, and added some homey touches like our welcome mats (yes, plural!). I also initiated some new potting! We replaced our nasty plant skeletons with live, flourishing plants! There’s Hagrid (a lavender plant), Ron & Hermione (two red/orange lantanas) and the still unborn poppies (which I will replace soon… I promise!).

- A vacation! Conveniently located smack dab in the summer was our family vacation to Austria! It was so amazing, incredibly beautiful, and deeply warming to be with my family in such a gorgeous place. Much bonding occurred during long car rides around the country and over tasty meals. While the places we visited were amazing (!!!!!!) on the top of my list was being able to spend time with my brother-in-law and see how much him and my sister are in love :)

- With Kyle in Hawai’i for most of the summer, I suddenly became very fond of my cell phone and enjoyed many long conversations with him. I really enjoyed our times talking about all sorts of things, whether fun, ordinary, difficult, or deep, and I think my housemates got a good laugh out of seeing me flopped on my bed on the phone with a smile on my face. (And it’s even better in person!)

- Good people + good places = good times. Many friends at the Santa Monica beach for my birthday. Caroline, Eric and others at LACMA for free jazz on Friday and a stroll through the museum. Visiting Sarah in Long Beach and loving her new town and apartment (and apartment’s pool!) Vanessa in town (twice!) staying at our place and having oodles and boodles of fun. Kendra moving in across the street and seeing her when I get home from work. Kristin over for dinners, lunches with Utibe, meeting new folks in the Streetlamp internship, having Joellen and Rhoelin live with us for the summer. And the list could go on…

Well done, summer of 2009!

"That's so L.A."

2009-07-30T17:42:00.001-07:00

Beastocity: 5.7

I recently noticed a few of the ads around Los Angeles that boast what is “so L.A.” It’s kinda cute. Apparently it’s to help boost tourism to bridge the several hundred million dollar budget gap (good luck, Arnold.) But what’s more entertaining than actually thinking about doing whatever “the man” is trying to lure me to spend money doing is testing my own knowledge of what is “L.A.” Some places or events I recognize and others I don’t. Venice Beach: Yeah, that’s somewhere on the coast… I’m sure I’ve been there. Los Angeles Convention Center: Uh, must be downtown… somewhere near the 110 probably. Walt Disney Concert Hall: Yes, definitely downtown and definitely awesome. Been there and would go again (but for free). Boulevard of Dreams: Oh, wow. I don’t think I know where that is and it’s looks like it must happen late at night and therefore past my bedtime. Darn.

So I wonder how I rank as an Angeleno. I commute 30-45 minutes every morning and ride by myself (cringe!). I like to go “hiking” on a dusty little hill near where I live. I could match freeway numbers with the names San Pedro, Pasadena, Santa Monica and Hollywood. I think Taco Trucks are amazing, but tragic because the good ones come out after my bedtime. I can parallel park like no one’s business. My office has a view of the Hollywood sign. I’ll drive 30 minutes for good Boba and loyal housemates who all facilitate each other’s Boba addictions. My “yard” consists of a strip of grass that runs the length of my driveway.

Well, I’m not really proud of most of my stereotypical Angeleno-ness, so I’m trying to embrace more positive Angeleno qualities as well. I’m learning some of the amazing things I can do around the city for free! I’m starting my own little garden to make up for the excessive amounts of concrete. I try to carpool or ride a bike. I’m enjoying exploring my little piece of Los Angeles zip code and it’s fun to try and stay more local.

So, I might qualify as an Angeleno but then I guess that means I should actually get rid of my Florida license plate. Hm, perhaps sometime soon.

My Fifth Home...

2009-07-09T17:20:00.000-07:00

So maybe you’re not really curious, but you still might enjoy hearing a little about where I spend most of my waking hours (sadly) each week. Here’s a little bit about my architecture office…
It’s a big office. There’s about 80 of us that dwell on the top floor of the building and I’m one of 4 support staff that help the place run smoothly (or maybe I just like to think that I’m that important… hey! What would an architect do if they ran out of printer paper couldn’t print their now computerized drawings?? That’s right…)
They like their food. And their coffee. It only takes from 8:30 to 9:15 for about all 5 coffee pots (only 1 guy touches the 6th decaf pot) to go dry. They also go through the kitchen snacks like they don’t eat breakfast or lunch (in fact, most of them probably don’t…).
People are quirky. Well I’m convinced everyone is and it’s only a matter of how soon you learn their quirks, but these folks have some special things about them…
There’s the IT guys who, when they’re not running to put out technical fires they’re talking about the latest games or shooting rubber bands at people.
There’s the head of the support staff who has worked here forever and you can often find her breaking out into her old high school cheerleader cheers, her next Sunday gospel solo, or telling people (including our boss) that he’s going to go to hell but that she’s praying for him.
There’s the folks who make about 2 trips every hour to the kitchen and the folks to make about 2 trips every hour to the bathrooms. There’s the ones who drink about 4 beers at our weekly happy hour and the ones who bustle in and out of the office looking like they’re carrying the cares of the entire world and they never stop for a break (except in the elevator).
There’s the folks who wear long sleeved, button up shirts and dress slacks every day and there’s the folks who wear old jeans, chucks, and graphic tees. And it’s especially great when you see them in a meeting together.
There’s also the office assistant who is always doing the most random and stupid tasks but always dashes from one side of the office to another like she’s off to save the world (when really it’s just delivering someone’s mail). She’s constantly in the kitchen and checks her gmail way too much. She either talks to you like she’s making a business proposition or like you’re her best girlfriend (there’s not too much of an in between). Her personality kind of ranges from that of a cheerleader to a girl scout, she looks like she could be your granddaughter’s age and she’s always just a little too… eager.
Oh, wait, that last one is me.
And all these wonderful people (and then some) make up my office! It’s really a great place to work and people are always driving me crazy and making me laugh and be glad for all the different and absolutely beautiful personalities that are out there.
Cheers!

Summer lovin'

2009-07-06T16:54:00.000-07:00

I love summer

Here are some things I love about summer:

Late sunsets in the city. I love how you can sit outside in that post-heat cool and watch the sky turn from orange to blue. I love to take a break from making dinner, step out of the kitchen onto my cemented back yard and hear the faint noises of families at home chatting or cooking coming from the houses nearby.

Lunches outside. During the winter it’s a discipline to bring my lunch and eat outside in the park behind my office. I often look for excuses to go to a café and find the cheapest thing that will buy me a cozy seat indoors. But just earlier this week I had to buy lunch and I couldn’t make myself stay in the café for more than a half hour before the idea of the sun and a bench under a tree lured me back outside.

Swimming. It’s a comfort, uh, sport for me (is there such a thing as a comfort sport?) But with the Oxy students gone for the summer, the school pool is usually empty and a wonderful place to go on a Saturday afternoon.

Less traffic. Schools are out! People are on vacation! My commute is definitely 15 minutes shorter this time of year.

Summer reading. I used to inhale books like nobody’s business. Nowadays I usually have about 5 started and I’m lucky if I get around to finishing 2. So far I’m almost through Hawaii’s Story and The Soloist is on deck.

Pace. Everything seems to slow. Naps under a fan are necessary. People seem to gather often and linger longer.

Why can't it always be summer?

What makes me tick...

2009-06-10T15:39:00.000-07:00

Beastocity: 12 (thinking about the future is exciting and stressful)

So, I’ve been trying to articulate some ideas for a few months and I think I should document what I’ve got so far.

Architecture has always fascinated me. Mostly what fascinates me about it is how it embodies the connection between spaces and community and art. How cool is it that someone’s artistic vision creates a space which in turn impact and shape communities. Wow.

But recently I’ve been trying to dig deeper than that… What communities are in need? How can architecture and design help them? I’m no expert, but from what I can tell, current inner-city
architecture seems to be modern developers try their hand at placing their newest “theory” of building healthy inner-city communities into low-income, urban neighborhoods. To me (granted, I too am currently an outsider) it seems like a laborious process: find a lot or tear something dilapidated down, come up with a fancy yet inexpensive design, build it, furnish it and somewhere in that process the gentrification seed can get planted. But on top of that, I’m realizing that this whole process
takes years.

Maybe it’s my own personal style, but growing up in a developing suburb my life was filled with sterile new architecture (not really even modern or all that creative). To me, what gives character and life to a
community are buildings with history. What would it look like to have existing buildings be changed, adapted, and renewed to fit the functional, atheistic, and environmental needs of a community? Would
it add ownership and pride to have someone who is an insider in that community be the one who is changing the architectural landscape of the community, and thus the feel of the community? Could that happen by using existing landmarks? Could that be a metaphor of how the community is seeking to change?

Realistically, I know this is difficult and in no ways glamorous. And, honestly, I cannot even imagine how difficult this could probably be. Would this be the route of architecture, urban planning, or historic preservation? I’ll admit I’m another one of those “theorists” trying their hand at “fixing” something they know nothing about. But for now it encourages and inspires me to keep following my interest and hopefully figuring out what is possible.

Uncle.

2009-05-28T17:26:00.000-07:00

Beastocity: 8 (and rising)

I like to think of myself as a rebel. Well I’m not, but I think there is some instinct in me that wants to go against… stuff. It’s hard to just receive. I have a hard time receiving. I want to prove myself worthy or prove myself unworthy, anything but freely receive. Receive what?, you might ask. Well, anything! What was your response last time someone complimented you or gave you something? Is your internal processing something like woa, do I deserve this? a) no! oh no! what do I do now? Either provide evidence that I don’t deserve their kindness or… what could I do to deserve it? Hmm, yes I’ll do that. Yes, then I’ll be able to deserve this. here just wait here a second and I’m going to take care of some business and then we’ll get back to this receiving thing. b) hmm well… I have done this and this recently and therefore I do deserve this, in fact, why didn’t I get it sooner? man they owe me. what could I do to show them that I deserve more… yeah, this isn’t good enough.

Relate? Maybe not. But such is my response to others all too often and that has been my response to God recently. I want to rebel. Love? He has love for me? Ha, whatever. Isn’t he all knowing? Well if he loves me then he must not be. And I’ve gotten tired. I’m tired of response (a). Something in my heart tugs back and forth saying that I’m in such a great need for God’s love but also saying that I don’t even want to ask because he just might give it and I’m not feeling like I deserve it right now. I’ll get back to him when I feel like I deserve it.

Today was a little different, a hiccup in my normal brainwaves about this topic. It went something like this: Do I like and trust God’s way of doing things but not his economy of giving and receiving love? well.. yes. Is trusting God trusting his way of doing things? yeah. Do I trust that if God wants to give me love, then he should? oh... not currently. Do I want to trust God? I want to.

"soft voice"

2009-05-07T17:37:00.000-07:00

Beastocity: err… tell you in a month.

So, while I’m on the theme of noticing funny little things about myself (well this can be the second in my theme…) here’s my newest: I have a “soft voice.” I never thought of myself as having a “soft voice” (maybe I still don’t cus I’m putting it in quotation marks). I mean, I guess as I look back on my entire life I remember some instances that might prove this “theory.” For one, one of my pet peeves has developed throughout the years to be when someone can’t hear you and they lean into you and say “What did you say?” As though you couldn’t say it in a louder volume and instead they need to be a few inches from your face.

Do you track with me? Haven’t you ever been with someone in a public place and smoothly try to tell them something out of the corner of your mouth, trying to draw as little attention as possible to yourself probably trying to make some critical comment that you don’t want the others around you to hear, and because your dumb-o friend (or perhaps temporarily dumb-o) and instead of whispering a quiet “huh?” they awkwardly do a huge lean/bend at the waist and ask loudly “What did you say?” and now you have a third of the people whose attention you were trying not to draw conveniently looking over at you… then you have to be the one to be like uhhh I’ll tell you later. AWKWARD!

So maybe I’m just too sensitive to social situations. I am a self confessed over-analyzer. Most of my cell phone people-can’t-hear-me issues come from not wanting to disturb those around me or have them hear my conversation. Maybe I need to readjust my volume settings… maybe then people at my office would be able to hear when I page them over the loudspeaker. Until then, I’m grateful for the intervention of my coworkers who tell me weekly that I have a soft voice.

The Reformed Me

2009-03-26T15:47:00.000-07:00

Beastocity: (after some denial) 10

I am a healthy eater. I admit it. But not by choice. I’m kinda like a junk-food eater/cookie monster with the external of a healthy eater. First it was the digestion problems (I’ll spare details) that cut a lot of the fluff (or what my family likes to call “cheap filler” … mmm I lova da cheap filler) and substituted it instead with hearty high-fiber foods. Bring on the fruit, vegetables, and beans! (Yes, beans became one of my best friends. They’re actually a kind of comfort food for me now- I know I’m safe in the hands of beans.) So I thought- well that’s not so bad, I can still indulge in my sweet tooth habits without harming my fiber intake-ha HA!

Until recently. Now-by part divine intervention and part experimentation-I’ve decided to cut out a lot of sugars. Man. So here I am. The reformed “cookie monster” (as my sister calls me) who now gets excited about her afternoon snack of mixed nuts and dried cranberries. What have I become?

The combination of trying to be frugal about my money doesn’t help either. It got to the point today where I went out to lunch with a co-worker (the office was paying J) and so I scanned the menu and thought get something with chicken- because that’s expensive and takes a while to cook (or at least thaw) and then something with fiber! So I ended up with some chicken eggplant mushroom sandwich dilly-yo (complete with a side salad) that had the potential to be good but in reality kinda tasted like bread. Even with some of the side salad dressing poured on top.

There have been other things going on in the past two weeks that are way more important than this but after realizing that last week I was head-over-heels for my pairing of apples and cheese and this week I’m nuts about mixed nuts and dried cranberries I couldn’t keep what I have become private any longer.

Hopefully my body will thank me later.

Where in the world is....

2009-03-05T15:50:00.000-08:00

Last fall, I got to pose as a student for CO Architects' new residence hall at CMC. The hall was very creative and modern... looked like it was too good to be a residence hall! But it still doesn't beat the timeless quality of places like Erdman. See if you can find yours truly in the pictures.

Just call me Handywoman Jennifer

2009-03-03T11:46:00.000-08:00

Beastocity: 20 (really a beastocity of like 3 but the shock adds 17)

Ever heard of a Mayline? It’s a straightedge that attaches to your desk via screws and wires that can roll up and down. Well I know how to install one. And drill holes.

I’m no stranger to power tools. I’ve grown up doing boat maintenance alongside my dad and seen many a hole drilled and a thing installed (and sometimes done it myself) but I was still shocked today. Yesterday one of the architects asked me about these Mayline things and I brought some old ones up from storage. I told him I’d never installed one before (which really means I’ve never used one and therefore have no idea how they work). So he was going to check it out and see if we had the necessary hardware etc. It turned out we did and I told him to holler if he needed a hand. He comes back, says alls a go and that all that is needed is a power driver. I get power driver and come to his desk then…. Shock. He briefly explains what goes where, puts the correct driver bit in the contraption, collects his drawings and leaves.

I was in such shock. Um…. Does this mean I’m supposed to install this? Young, little Jennifer? Not old, seasoned architect man who makes buildings? Guess so, after all I kind of am the random office person whose job description is a mix between home ec and handyman (hence the man part there- often I realize why this is the first time they’ve had a woman in this job position, this was one of them).

So the next two minutes were a mix of sweat and quick synapse-firing all with the background music of “what the hell am I doing?” So I try out the power screwdriver and find it won’t go through the formica tabletop. Suddenly- a thought. Hmmm maybe I need to drill a hole first! But since seasoned architect man didn’t say anything about it, I’m more confused than when I started. So what do I do? I use a lifeline. Two desks away sits the real office handyman, Dean. Luckily we are good friends because I deliver people’s packages and he orders a lot and loves to get packages. He kind of does this funny flip from a 45 year old man to a 12 year old boy when he gets packages (especially when they’re from his mom in Hawaii sending him snacks, then it’s more like 8 year old boy). Point is, we’re tight. I swing by and off handedly ask if I needed to screw into the table top if I need a drill. He says it would be easier so… drill it is! I continue with my task, trying to look as at ease and confident as I can: finding a drill bit, taking out the old screw bit, replacing the drill, drilling into the table (eek!), then realizing I need to get the drill bit out of the table (another perk from watching dad), switching bits, putting the screw in (adjusting something that I see my dad adjust when the screw proves difficult to go in), and then figuring out the maze of wires that makes this thing work.

With the commotion (by that I mean uncharacteristic drill noises and maybe my internal background music is starting to become audible by now) Dean comes by to check on me, gives me some pointers and says I’m missing some hardware. Few seconds later he’s back with all the stuff I need and tells me I’m doing a good job.

Four holes and three screws later (one hole was in the wrong place) I’ve gotten it all put together! Luckily not many people were around at the time so I didn’t disturb too many people. Moral is: I’m very honored that they trust me with something like that (even though it’s just a formica table) and glad that traditional gender roles were broken.

Just call me Handywoman Jennifer.

Leveling out the playing field

2009-02-04T16:11:00.000-08:00

Beastocity: shooting for a net beastocity of 0

Why a net beastocity of 0? Because over the past few years the deterioration of my piano skills due to the business of college life has resulted in a beastocity of 5, which translates to a beastocity of -5 because it’s bad. So I’m trying to level out my piano beastocity to 0. And with the lovely Wm. Knabe & Co. as the newest member of the Paulhan House, hopefully it shouldn’t take too long.

Growing up, our piano shared a room with the TV and so whenever I would wonder into the family room I’d glance from piano to TV and back again and settle in for a little quality piano time. I had two favorite times to play. The best time was when the house was empty. With no one home, I could play as loud, fast, and sloppily as I wanted to. I could even open up the large doors near the piano that faced the backyard and enjoy the view and the humidity as I played (which was also a sure way to make the piano go out of tune faster… like I said, no one was home:). And when my sister wasn’t around I could also play her music which was normally off limits to decrease any kind of sisterly piano-skill-comparison. My second favorite time was when my brother was going to bed. It was usually early enough to not bother anyone else in my family and my brother’s room was far enough away from the piano that, hopefully, it did more good than harm in helping him go to sleep. I’d pick some slow, dreamy piece and wish him goodnight through the music.

So, like I said, I need to work on my piano beastocity. But don’t get me wrong, it’s not for accomplishment (well just a little). Throughout my piano education I always made sure that boat weekends conveniently overlapped with piano recitals (I actually managed to miss most recitals throughout middle and high school and then made a cameo at the last recital before I left for college). But to love classical music and then stumble through the pieces you once used as an extension of your creative expression is painful. Hopefully I can someday enjoy the pieces like I once did.

So that brings me to now. Recently, my aunt offered me my grandmother’s old piano which was collecting dust at her house. After deliberating for a few months, I decided to take it and hope that I wouldn’t regret doing so. And now a piano lives in the Paulhan garage! It turns out my grandmother inherited it from a friend so the piano could date to a little under a hundred years old! So now my love for classical music has been renewed. Because my skills are only so-so, I have been living vicariously through classical music on KUSC on 91.5FM, my new love. That relationship all started because of a game of boggle… I turned on what Daniel and Lester hoped to be some soothing classical music to aid to our boggle game and out came the lively works of Rachmaninoff and Debussy. We were all surprised and rather distracted, but it reminded us of how powerful classical music can be! The next day I stumbled across KUSC and it has been love ever since. What other type of music can refresh, energize, or soothe without any words and therefore leaving your mind and mood free to travel wherever you like?

Any suggestions?

beastocity

2009-01-26T14:35:00.000-08:00

beas.toc.i.ty
[beas-tos-i-tee]

-noun, plural -ties

1. The speed at which a beast changes over a specific period of time. Rate of change, in terms of beastocity, is often used when speaking about momentum and it can generally be expressed as a ratio between a change in one beast relative to a corresponding change in another variable. Graphically, the rate of change of a beast is represented by the slope of a line, the x-axis in varying increments of time and the y-axis as an independent variable which changes depending on the situation.

Origin:
2004-8; < style="font-style: italic;">beastocitas beast

So there you have it, the first official definition of beastocity. And if you think about it, it makes sense for me to adopt (or perhaps create) this word. I figure the amount of change I've experienced over the last three years is just a reflection of what to expect throughout the rest of my twenties. So what would be more fitting than to apply the definition of beastocity to myself for this first blog.

As a recent college graduate, I'm finally living somewhere where I'm not obliged to pack up and move every year (or three times a year if you count winter break, move-in and move-out). So along with my Florida drivers' license and my Tennessee cell phone number I'm now a working citizen of Los Angeles. Waking up at 6:13am most mornings to contemplate my deepest creative desires and what my God-given calling is as I order colored pencils and prepare Vienna Roast coffee for architects and wonder how soon change will come again (be it due to opportunity or conscience). Now, in most cases, beastocity is bittersweet. As overwhelmed as I feel at times wondering what the future holds, I am deeply grateful that I have the privilege to ponder my desires for my life. Desires to seek justice and reveal God's love through creating... things.

So, what is my current beastocity? Well, let's define it in terms of my recently most dominating y-axis: thinking. With the students gone for winter break, it has left me with a lot of down time to think. Think about jobs, volunteer opportunities, relationships, graduate school, far away family, artwork, ministry, my disorganized room and dirty car, the changing weather patterns, far away friends, my sister's approaching wedding, finances, my next haircut, and the list goes on. So, we could look at the past month (mid December/January) and plot my amount of thinking (which as doubled since the previous). Therefore with an increase of thinking by about 10 over the past month, my beastocity would be 10/1 or 10. Simple enough, right?

That leaves me to this past week... ahhh. Settling into the pattern of the new semester has been refreshing. No more excessive time to ponder the possibilities of the future but to just sit and enjoy the ride of this fresh, new season. Already I've seen how God wants to blow away my expectations for the semester and I'm so grateful.