I would have given a vital organ to have had my iPhone on me a week and a half ago, in order to write this blog as the original inspiration struck. But alas, I left my precious technological cargo sitting in my center console, while my wonderful Mom and StepDad whisked me away to our nation's capitol. I'm actually not complaining. There was something refreshing and carefree about not being attached to a small device that rings and buzzes all too often. Enough about my phone, or my lack of memory in order to grab the phone as I exited the car.....it was a test of my will. And I passed. Enough said.
Onto the real reason for this blog. Most of you know me. Many of you know me really well. And if you do, you also know that my personal space bubble is rather large. I'm not a "hugger," although I have learned to become more of one. When random second and third graders run up to you and hug you, saying "Hi Miss Johnson!" Well, it tends to melt your heart a tad....and thus you find yourself being hugged, and returning the hug. I should clarify....I AM a hugger with my family. I have BECOME a hugger with my friends. But I'm generally a "waver." If I could just wave instead of shaking hands with people, my life would be perfect! ;0)
So, I had an amazing trip to Washington, D.C. It's definitely a different world. I liken it to New York City, but on anti-depressants. In DC, its busy and business like, but the people are nice and the subway is clean. In NYC, I'm thinking it's not. The subway.....oh, the subway.
First of all, let me explain that in DC it's called the Metro. And it's actually a pretty cool system. And moderately easy to decipher and once you get the hang of it, you kind of feel like a public transportation prodigy.
I didn't like rushing to catch the train, because you ran the risk of the doors closing on you or one of your party, then you would be left at the station, without a cell phone, in a strange city as you watch your parents travel down the track. Mind you, this didn't happen, but it did in my mind....and that was enough to scare me. However, just as I thought the Metro was about the coolest invention in the world, one afternoon changed all that.
Me, my Mom and my StepDad decided to head back to our hotel after a long day of sightseeing. None of us looked at our watches, and didn't realize the red-line was backed up until we were standing on the platform. As the train whizzes into the station, bringing with it a much needed breeze, we see the train cars, FULL. But wanting to get back to our comfortable couches and flat screen television, we forged ahead. My StepFather pushes my Mother and me ahead, so that if anyone got stuck in the doors, it would be him....not much of a comforting thought. I got to within about two feet of the car and was met by a wall of humanity. I look to my left and right....more humanity. Perspiration begins to bead upon my forehead as I tilt my head back and try to find a happy place. Let me take a moment and mention that the red-line (the main line throughout DC) has the oldest train cars on it. The AC sometimes worked, sometimes didn't. At this point in the story, they weren't working at all to my knowledge. Okay, maybe they were working, but I couldn't feel it. My StepDad stayed behind me, making sure I was safe from that direction, and checked on me every minute and a half or so by whispering "are you okay?" Sweet guy. He had no way of knowing that my "yeah, I'm fine," meant that I was quickly becoming claustrophobic and was about to begin to claw my way to another car, regardless of who stood in my way. Oh, ya...and the only handles to hold on to were the ones in the ceiling.....so after walking all over DC....I have my armpit in other DCers faces....and they reciprocated in like manner.
As the train is carrying us to our next stop, my Mom catches my eye and silently asks if I'm okay....and silently reminds me to hang in there. I nod my head, hoping she realizes I'm close to passing out and only my will of iron is keeping me on my feet. Well, that and my StepDad acting as my human shield. Did I mention he's a great guy?
We make it to Metro Center. This is where anyone can change to any line (blue, orange, green or yellow) and go in any direction, needless to say it's a busy place. About 30% of the mass left. Unfortunately another 60% thought they could squeeze in. Amidst the yells of "I can't move!" and the occasional cry of a baby whose mother thought it would be a good idea to squeeze in....a loud and very authoritative voice rings out "I ain't gonna be pushed. Don't NO ONE run into me. I'm tellin you!" Now, this woman had been on the train for about two stops. And lo and behold, not one person attempted to move her. And I can guarantee no one bumped into her. She was also very vocal about what she thought of the mother and baby. The bad news was....this woman ended up directly in front of me, adding the pressure that if I bumped into her I would not only be humiliated but would probably get beat down DC style in the process. So now, I'm sweating profusely, my arm is still raised but is cramping up from the tight grip I've been holding on the bar for three stops (but I can't let go as I would run into LoudMouth LouLou's fist), I'm being squeezed from the right and left...especially from the left because BOB aka Big Ol Boy decided to stand there, and my StepDad is still trying to protect me and check on my welfare. I'm standing there with my eyes closed, concentrating on my breathing, praying, finding as Zen a place as was possible while being carried in what felt like a livestock trailer....and my StepDad whispers to me "Your Mom found a seat." I look up and my Mom is sitting down. Lovely. The person whose personal bubble had been decimated within two subway stops was stuck between Loud Mouth LouLou and BOBS (at this point it was Big Ol Boy Sweatin') and the calm one is sitting down. The AC was probably blowing right above her too!
The stop is Farragut North. The mass of bodies leaves the car so quickly it was almost as if they had never been there. Our stop is the next one, Dupont Circle. We exit the train and relive the last ten minutes through laughter and threats of "if I had my iPhone I would SO be writing a blog right now."
At the end of the week, my Mom reminded me, maybe the Lord was trying to teach me something about my personal space bubble.
I said "maybe." I couldn't really think what that would be, other than "Julie, if you can't handle the subway, don't move to the big city."
A lesson in which I will take to heart for the rest of my life.
Tuesday, August 17, 2010
Sunday, August 1, 2010
You Judge, I Judge, We All Judge....
Judging.
This word is thrown around everywhere from the pulpit to the Pecan street alley....but what does it mean, really?
Well, I know it's a book in the bible. And if I'm not mistaken, it's aptly named because it chronicles the times of actual judges, who resided in biblical times. But these judges were more like freedom fighters, than actual Judge-Judy-types, sitting on worn, wooden benches. My study Bible says they were more concerned with fighting for their freedom than presiding over legal matters.
I also know that Webster's describes judging as several different things: "to form a judgment or opinion of; decide upon critically," or "to make a careful guess about; estimate," or even "to make a mental judgment."
The cry of this age is "don't judge," "don't judge me," or "don't judge others."
What are we really saying, when that is our reply?
I've thought about this several times over the past few years. We are so quick to spit out "don't judge." But are we missing where that sentiment really came from and what it really intimated?
Let's take a look.......Romans 14:1-22 is the passage most often referred to, whether people know they're referring to it or not, and it says in verse 13, "let us stop passing judgment on one another."
But I think it would be wise to read the verses previous to that, as well as after....Paul is admonishing Christians not to be a stumbling block to those "whose faith is weak," or new Christians. As best as I can tell, and I'm no theologian, there were some arguments taking place as to what day was considered sacred, as well as people condemning others for their food choices.
Apparently Christians were arguing about food long, long before any church pot-lucks.
This chapter emphasizes not to be swayed into petty arguments that mean nothing! If someone wants to eat only veggies, let them! If they go to church on Tuesday and not Sunday, let them! This chapter is referring to food and days of the week.
Nowhere in that chapter did I read that I was not to listen or look at someone's actions, words or life-fruit, and make a decision as to whether or not I will keep company with that person. Nor did I read in Romans that I should allow friends or family to continue in sin, because it's "not my place to judge."
Now, before any of you start crawling up on your high horse....let me kick the crate out from under you. I am not speaking of anyone in particular. None of my family or friends have said this to me. It's something I've thought about often, though.
If I see or hear something that is contrary to the Word of God, do I accept it, so as "not to judge?"
Yes and no. I've talked with a good friend of mine about this subject a few times in recent weeks. We both agree that there has to be a balance of love AND awareness.
We need to love those that aren't part of the Family. And ultimately, allow the Lord to transform them.
But making a "critical decision" about a certain aspect of my life, or someone else's....is just that. It's MY decision. If I feel you're falling off the wagon because you drunk-dial me half a dozen times, I'm gonna decide that you probably aren't the person I'm going to hang out with next weekend. Am I judging???!! Oh no....I judged that individual (please realize, I made this scenario up)!!
Yes, I DID judge. I formed an opinion of and made a careful estimate about how much time I will spend with my often-intoxicated friend.
I think it's okay to do that.
In fact, I think we SHOULD do that.
It's all about....balance. Love them. But they need to know the truth as well.
I tend to think that those yelling "don't judge" the loudest are trying to drown out their own common sense.
Form opinions. Love people.
And yes, I believe it's possible to do both.
This word is thrown around everywhere from the pulpit to the Pecan street alley....but what does it mean, really?
Well, I know it's a book in the bible. And if I'm not mistaken, it's aptly named because it chronicles the times of actual judges, who resided in biblical times. But these judges were more like freedom fighters, than actual Judge-Judy-types, sitting on worn, wooden benches. My study Bible says they were more concerned with fighting for their freedom than presiding over legal matters.
I also know that Webster's describes judging as several different things: "to form a judgment or opinion of; decide upon critically," or "to make a careful guess about; estimate," or even "to make a mental judgment."
The cry of this age is "don't judge," "don't judge me," or "don't judge others."
What are we really saying, when that is our reply?
I've thought about this several times over the past few years. We are so quick to spit out "don't judge." But are we missing where that sentiment really came from and what it really intimated?
Let's take a look.......Romans 14:1-22 is the passage most often referred to, whether people know they're referring to it or not, and it says in verse 13, "let us stop passing judgment on one another."
But I think it would be wise to read the verses previous to that, as well as after....Paul is admonishing Christians not to be a stumbling block to those "whose faith is weak," or new Christians. As best as I can tell, and I'm no theologian, there were some arguments taking place as to what day was considered sacred, as well as people condemning others for their food choices.
Apparently Christians were arguing about food long, long before any church pot-lucks.
This chapter emphasizes not to be swayed into petty arguments that mean nothing! If someone wants to eat only veggies, let them! If they go to church on Tuesday and not Sunday, let them! This chapter is referring to food and days of the week.
Nowhere in that chapter did I read that I was not to listen or look at someone's actions, words or life-fruit, and make a decision as to whether or not I will keep company with that person. Nor did I read in Romans that I should allow friends or family to continue in sin, because it's "not my place to judge."
Now, before any of you start crawling up on your high horse....let me kick the crate out from under you. I am not speaking of anyone in particular. None of my family or friends have said this to me. It's something I've thought about often, though.
If I see or hear something that is contrary to the Word of God, do I accept it, so as "not to judge?"
Yes and no. I've talked with a good friend of mine about this subject a few times in recent weeks. We both agree that there has to be a balance of love AND awareness.
We need to love those that aren't part of the Family. And ultimately, allow the Lord to transform them.
But making a "critical decision" about a certain aspect of my life, or someone else's....is just that. It's MY decision. If I feel you're falling off the wagon because you drunk-dial me half a dozen times, I'm gonna decide that you probably aren't the person I'm going to hang out with next weekend. Am I judging???!! Oh no....I judged that individual (please realize, I made this scenario up)!!
Yes, I DID judge. I formed an opinion of and made a careful estimate about how much time I will spend with my often-intoxicated friend.
I think it's okay to do that.
In fact, I think we SHOULD do that.
It's all about....balance. Love them. But they need to know the truth as well.
I tend to think that those yelling "don't judge" the loudest are trying to drown out their own common sense.
Form opinions. Love people.
And yes, I believe it's possible to do both.
25 Things About Julie Johnson
"Previously published on Julie Johnson's Facebook site."
1. I turn 24 every March. No joke. I have all my college friends trained to know that. And they usually let me get away with it.
2. I have always wanted to be a teacher. For as long as I can remember, I toted my school books home on the weekends so that I could "teach" my imaginary students at my grandparents house (they had the double, built-in chalkboards in the basement o' fun).
3. I miss the Basement O' Fun. My grandparents had an extremely large house, while I was growing up in the suburbs of Chicago. Their basement ran the entire length of their house. Want to play pool? Head down to the basement and hang out at the pool table. Want to play pinball? No coins necessary! There's a race-car pinball machine down there next to the pool table! Want to play school or legos? There are 15 boxes of random legos in an alcove across from the pool table, complete with built in, dual chalkboards. Like I said.....Basement O' Fun!!!!!
4. I play Toontown. Disney's Toontown online. You are a toon. You save toontown from evil cogs (robots) by throwing pies in their faces and squirting them with water hoses. I'm really quite a powerful toon. I'm addicted. Go ahead, laugh.
5. I like labels. I know labels. Coach, Christian Louboutin, Dolce & Gabana, etc. I can't afford labels. But I like labels. I also have an amazing grandmother who hands down her designer purses to me. She's also been known to hand down items that weren't hers....such as bedroom furniture, bowling balls, etc. But let's not open THAT can of worms.
6. I love eating out at restaurants. I mean, I REALLY love it. My love for it probably stems from the fact that as a family of six, we didn't eat out. Pizza delivery was as fancy as it got in my household. So I still look at eating out as a treat.
7. I write. Books, short stories, funny stuff. I just love to write. I can't call myself an author, because to do that, I feel a person should be published. But I can definitely call myself an author-in-training.
8. One of my favorite places in the whole wide world is Menahga, Minnesota. Wonderful in the summer, fun in the winter. It has it all. It's a town of 1000 people, full of pine trees, and more scandanavian folk than you can shake a stick at. I love it!! It's my kind of town.
9. Back injuries suck! But back surgery can be a wonderful thing. My surgery was extremely successful and I live every day without back pain. After having pain for so long, it's an amazing relief to be free of it. I wish I could share my no-pain-living with my Tauntie.
10. I have an awesome family. We are loud, crazy and irreverent. But they make me laugh. Some of the best times have been at the worst times. In the midst of my Grampa's funeral, we found ourselves (all 14 of us, I think) sitting around the kitchen table reminiscing and telling stories. We laughed until we cried. Even though we'd heard the stories tons of times, they seemed just as funny, and just as new as if we were hearing them for the first time. Then we got up and went on a lucrative treasure hunt. Yes, I'm serious. I LOVE MY FAMILY.
11. Family can also be messy. And hurtful and just plain difficult. But going through the crappy stuff makes you realize your capacity for forgiveness. And mercy. It makes you more aware of the good times, especially if they are few and far between. Crappy family stuff makes you thankful for the peace as it happens, and glad for the harmony when it surprises you.
12. Depression scares me. Having gone through it for so many years, without the assistance of medication, it makes me very aware of my frame of mind at all times. I am fearful of returning to the "dark place." But I also know how to combat it, which kinda makes me feel like Wonder Woman.
13. I owned a pair of Wonder Woman Underoos (many, many years ago). If you don't know what those are, google it. I had a ritual when the Wonder Woman tv show would come on. I got into my uniform (the underoos), complete with brown shoelaces yanked out of my shoes, which went around my wrists and became my golden bracelets that stopped bullets. The only time this plan failed was when my brother Roy had my underoos on without my permission. I doubt Batman ever had this kind of problem............
14. I am a Tauntie (pronounced TAN-TEE). For those of you who don't know what that is, don't try to google it. You probably won't get any results. Taunties are amazing Aunts! I have a Tauntie, and I wanted my nieces and nephews to have a Tauntie nearby, so Tauntie I became. It's the closest feeling to being a mother I can imagine. With the added bonus of spoiling the nieces/nephews, hopping them up on sugar, then sending them on their way, allowing me to miss the meltdowns, thus regaling me to "evil sister" by my siblings.
15. I spend alot of time with Mr. Laptop. He's my almost-constant-companion. When he doesn't work properly, it makes me very angry. I feel lost without him. He makes me happy most days.
16. I LOVE my church. I have never found a church like the one I attend now. I could write ten paragraphs about it. But I won't. They invest in the lives of their congregation. They don't play the numbers game. They disciple those who want it. It's truly amazing. And it makes my heart do small cramps when I think about ever leaving.
17. I exercise in my mind. In my mind, I am really good at Tae-Bo, and Core Rhythms. I can also do TurboJam like no one's business.....in my mind (that's not saying much....because in my mind, I can also dance as good as the stars of So You Think You Can Dance). When it comes to reality, I'm not good at any of these items listed. Oh, but I am good at the Walking Away The Pounds DVD, which consists of walking for one mile, in place. Ya, I'm really good at that.
18. I almost drowned when I was five. Someone (I think my Dad) had the bright idea of teaching me how to waterski at the tender age of 5. Yes, I said 5. I received many pieces of advice from many different uncles. The one common thread was "hold on to the rope." The boat took off, I fell face first immediately.....and I held onto the rope. And held on. My Tauntie saved my life. She somehow got to me and yanked on my ankle, causing me to let go of the rope. We sputtered and cried our way to shore, as I vehemently refused to ever waterski again. The mother and grandmother on shore agreed through their tears. It was all slightly traumatic.
19. I can see the light at the end of the college-tunnel. I am in my major classes, and I LOVE it. I'm learning tons about children, how they think, what I won't do in my classroom, what I will do, etc. I will be graduating in December 2010. That's next year. It's way exciting. ***Update*** - The light shines ever brighter....graduation is a little over four months away. I am beyond excited...
20. I want to learn how to quilt. My Mom has given me her old sewing machine (which isn't all that old) and I want to learn how to quilt. I don't yet know what my first quilt will be, or who it will be for, but I am currently taking orders. ***Update*** - I've made one quilt (it happened to be a Robert Pattinson quilt for my Twilight-freak roommate, Sheridan...she L-O-V-E-D it....and another quilt remains strewn about in my extra bedroom...someday.
21. I have awesome in-laws......not parental in-laws, but brother and sister in-laws. These three individuals treat me like a sibling. They allow me to treat their children like my own. And they let me bunk at their house when I'm in town, no questions asked. They rock.
22. I want to buy a new keyboard. I'm currently planning to stash away some money at some point this semester in order to do so, after I get some bills paid off. It would be nice to have an 88-key, weighted action keyboard for Chi-Alpha. I think its very logical for a piano player to have two pianos in her small, 2-bedroom apartment, don't you? ***Update*** - I bought an 88-key, weighted action keyboard, sold to me by an amazing friend who gave me an even more amazing discount at Guitar Center. That keyboard filled a huge need within our Chi Alpha Worship Band. I love that keyboard. And its mine forever!!!
23. I think about plastic surgery. Not all the time, but occassionally. I wonder if I'm going to mind seeing the wrinkles appear on my face. Or if I will be content to grow old gracefully. I freak over gray hairs that pop up on my head, and yank them out immediately. So if that's any indication of how I'm going to react to age, I may be in for an expensive lifestyle......
24. I've come to realize that I am very much like my Tauntie in one area. I love living alone. My brother even made a comment to this effect last week. I love not having to answer to anyone. I can clean my apartment, or not. I can cook, or not. I can play Toontown, eat raw cookie dough, and watch movies on my laptop, without having to worry about another person and their needs. It's a great life.
25. I hate Facebook. I love Myspace. But I get on facebook because it seems that the tide is turning and suddenly all my family and friends have a facebook, and I'm being left out of the loop. So to Facebook, I will go. Even if it IS against my will. ***Update*** - I love Facebook. I hate Myspace.
1. I turn 24 every March. No joke. I have all my college friends trained to know that. And they usually let me get away with it.
2. I have always wanted to be a teacher. For as long as I can remember, I toted my school books home on the weekends so that I could "teach" my imaginary students at my grandparents house (they had the double, built-in chalkboards in the basement o' fun).
3. I miss the Basement O' Fun. My grandparents had an extremely large house, while I was growing up in the suburbs of Chicago. Their basement ran the entire length of their house. Want to play pool? Head down to the basement and hang out at the pool table. Want to play pinball? No coins necessary! There's a race-car pinball machine down there next to the pool table! Want to play school or legos? There are 15 boxes of random legos in an alcove across from the pool table, complete with built in, dual chalkboards. Like I said.....Basement O' Fun!!!!!
4. I play Toontown. Disney's Toontown online. You are a toon. You save toontown from evil cogs (robots) by throwing pies in their faces and squirting them with water hoses. I'm really quite a powerful toon. I'm addicted. Go ahead, laugh.
5. I like labels. I know labels. Coach, Christian Louboutin, Dolce & Gabana, etc. I can't afford labels. But I like labels. I also have an amazing grandmother who hands down her designer purses to me. She's also been known to hand down items that weren't hers....such as bedroom furniture, bowling balls, etc. But let's not open THAT can of worms.
6. I love eating out at restaurants. I mean, I REALLY love it. My love for it probably stems from the fact that as a family of six, we didn't eat out. Pizza delivery was as fancy as it got in my household. So I still look at eating out as a treat.
7. I write. Books, short stories, funny stuff. I just love to write. I can't call myself an author, because to do that, I feel a person should be published. But I can definitely call myself an author-in-training.
8. One of my favorite places in the whole wide world is Menahga, Minnesota. Wonderful in the summer, fun in the winter. It has it all. It's a town of 1000 people, full of pine trees, and more scandanavian folk than you can shake a stick at. I love it!! It's my kind of town.
9. Back injuries suck! But back surgery can be a wonderful thing. My surgery was extremely successful and I live every day without back pain. After having pain for so long, it's an amazing relief to be free of it. I wish I could share my no-pain-living with my Tauntie.
10. I have an awesome family. We are loud, crazy and irreverent. But they make me laugh. Some of the best times have been at the worst times. In the midst of my Grampa's funeral, we found ourselves (all 14 of us, I think) sitting around the kitchen table reminiscing and telling stories. We laughed until we cried. Even though we'd heard the stories tons of times, they seemed just as funny, and just as new as if we were hearing them for the first time. Then we got up and went on a lucrative treasure hunt. Yes, I'm serious. I LOVE MY FAMILY.
11. Family can also be messy. And hurtful and just plain difficult. But going through the crappy stuff makes you realize your capacity for forgiveness. And mercy. It makes you more aware of the good times, especially if they are few and far between. Crappy family stuff makes you thankful for the peace as it happens, and glad for the harmony when it surprises you.
12. Depression scares me. Having gone through it for so many years, without the assistance of medication, it makes me very aware of my frame of mind at all times. I am fearful of returning to the "dark place." But I also know how to combat it, which kinda makes me feel like Wonder Woman.
13. I owned a pair of Wonder Woman Underoos (many, many years ago). If you don't know what those are, google it. I had a ritual when the Wonder Woman tv show would come on. I got into my uniform (the underoos), complete with brown shoelaces yanked out of my shoes, which went around my wrists and became my golden bracelets that stopped bullets. The only time this plan failed was when my brother Roy had my underoos on without my permission. I doubt Batman ever had this kind of problem............
14. I am a Tauntie (pronounced TAN-TEE). For those of you who don't know what that is, don't try to google it. You probably won't get any results. Taunties are amazing Aunts! I have a Tauntie, and I wanted my nieces and nephews to have a Tauntie nearby, so Tauntie I became. It's the closest feeling to being a mother I can imagine. With the added bonus of spoiling the nieces/nephews, hopping them up on sugar, then sending them on their way, allowing me to miss the meltdowns, thus regaling me to "evil sister" by my siblings.
15. I spend alot of time with Mr. Laptop. He's my almost-constant-companion. When he doesn't work properly, it makes me very angry. I feel lost without him. He makes me happy most days.
16. I LOVE my church. I have never found a church like the one I attend now. I could write ten paragraphs about it. But I won't. They invest in the lives of their congregation. They don't play the numbers game. They disciple those who want it. It's truly amazing. And it makes my heart do small cramps when I think about ever leaving.
17. I exercise in my mind. In my mind, I am really good at Tae-Bo, and Core Rhythms. I can also do TurboJam like no one's business.....in my mind (that's not saying much....because in my mind, I can also dance as good as the stars of So You Think You Can Dance). When it comes to reality, I'm not good at any of these items listed. Oh, but I am good at the Walking Away The Pounds DVD, which consists of walking for one mile, in place. Ya, I'm really good at that.
18. I almost drowned when I was five. Someone (I think my Dad) had the bright idea of teaching me how to waterski at the tender age of 5. Yes, I said 5. I received many pieces of advice from many different uncles. The one common thread was "hold on to the rope." The boat took off, I fell face first immediately.....and I held onto the rope. And held on. My Tauntie saved my life. She somehow got to me and yanked on my ankle, causing me to let go of the rope. We sputtered and cried our way to shore, as I vehemently refused to ever waterski again. The mother and grandmother on shore agreed through their tears. It was all slightly traumatic.
19. I can see the light at the end of the college-tunnel. I am in my major classes, and I LOVE it. I'm learning tons about children, how they think, what I won't do in my classroom, what I will do, etc. I will be graduating in December 2010. That's next year. It's way exciting. ***Update*** - The light shines ever brighter....graduation is a little over four months away. I am beyond excited...
20. I want to learn how to quilt. My Mom has given me her old sewing machine (which isn't all that old) and I want to learn how to quilt. I don't yet know what my first quilt will be, or who it will be for, but I am currently taking orders. ***Update*** - I've made one quilt (it happened to be a Robert Pattinson quilt for my Twilight-freak roommate, Sheridan...she L-O-V-E-D it....and another quilt remains strewn about in my extra bedroom...someday.
21. I have awesome in-laws......not parental in-laws, but brother and sister in-laws. These three individuals treat me like a sibling. They allow me to treat their children like my own. And they let me bunk at their house when I'm in town, no questions asked. They rock.
22. I want to buy a new keyboard. I'm currently planning to stash away some money at some point this semester in order to do so, after I get some bills paid off. It would be nice to have an 88-key, weighted action keyboard for Chi-Alpha. I think its very logical for a piano player to have two pianos in her small, 2-bedroom apartment, don't you? ***Update*** - I bought an 88-key, weighted action keyboard, sold to me by an amazing friend who gave me an even more amazing discount at Guitar Center. That keyboard filled a huge need within our Chi Alpha Worship Band. I love that keyboard. And its mine forever!!!
23. I think about plastic surgery. Not all the time, but occassionally. I wonder if I'm going to mind seeing the wrinkles appear on my face. Or if I will be content to grow old gracefully. I freak over gray hairs that pop up on my head, and yank them out immediately. So if that's any indication of how I'm going to react to age, I may be in for an expensive lifestyle......
24. I've come to realize that I am very much like my Tauntie in one area. I love living alone. My brother even made a comment to this effect last week. I love not having to answer to anyone. I can clean my apartment, or not. I can cook, or not. I can play Toontown, eat raw cookie dough, and watch movies on my laptop, without having to worry about another person and their needs. It's a great life.
25. I hate Facebook. I love Myspace. But I get on facebook because it seems that the tide is turning and suddenly all my family and friends have a facebook, and I'm being left out of the loop. So to Facebook, I will go. Even if it IS against my will. ***Update*** - I love Facebook. I hate Myspace.
Random Recording Artist in Need of a New Friend
"Previously published on Julie Johnson's Facebook site."
So, I saw that I had a new "Friend Request" on Myspace. It was from someone named Ben Decker. I thought "well, he must be a friend of a friend." So I check out his space.
Apparently, my new friend Ben is a model/actor/aspiring singer who lives in......take a wild guess......Hollywood!
Hmmm.......sounds suspiciously like Ben is trolling for new friends in order to further his "career." I put career in quotation marks because if his "singing" is any indication of how his career will transpire, well, quotation marks will be the least of his problems.
Now, I am no Whitney Houston. And with a crooked face, I'm even less sing-songish than before. But I also know I could be a judge on American Idol....AND BE GOOD AT IT.
With that said, I admit, maybe I expected too much out of poor ol' Ben Decker. I patiently waited for his song to load. It was supposedly a remake of Garth Brooks's "The River." Strangely enough, it sounded exactly like Garth's version! I was amazed.....not at his voice, I'll get to that in a minute, but I was amazed that it sounded like he went into someone's bedroom closet with a karakoke version of the song. His next song "Leaving it all behind" was a little better. I stress, A LITTLE.
Oh, Ben Decker. I think he needs to go ahead and let the singing ambition go. His myspace says he's POP/ROCK/POWERPOP. Hmmm. It also states "Ben Decker is an entrepreneur." Yeaahhhh, okay.
I think Ben Decker WANTS to be a really great singer. Don't we all? But I really think if you're going to ask people to be friends with your "official site of Ben Decker," you should probably have something really spectacular to offer them.
For example, I know of a singing group, all in one family who also have a musical myspace site. However, they try to NOT get people to become their friends because they are horrified at some of the "music" they put out on their last CD. They also hope to redeem themselves with another album, someday.
Poor Ben Decker. I feel kinda bad for him. On the other hand, my compassion only reaches so far when stupidity is involved...... :0)
So, I saw that I had a new "Friend Request" on Myspace. It was from someone named Ben Decker. I thought "well, he must be a friend of a friend." So I check out his space.
Apparently, my new friend Ben is a model/actor/aspiring singer who lives in......take a wild guess......Hollywood!
Hmmm.......sounds suspiciously like Ben is trolling for new friends in order to further his "career." I put career in quotation marks because if his "singing" is any indication of how his career will transpire, well, quotation marks will be the least of his problems.
Now, I am no Whitney Houston. And with a crooked face, I'm even less sing-songish than before. But I also know I could be a judge on American Idol....AND BE GOOD AT IT.
With that said, I admit, maybe I expected too much out of poor ol' Ben Decker. I patiently waited for his song to load. It was supposedly a remake of Garth Brooks's "The River." Strangely enough, it sounded exactly like Garth's version! I was amazed.....not at his voice, I'll get to that in a minute, but I was amazed that it sounded like he went into someone's bedroom closet with a karakoke version of the song. His next song "Leaving it all behind" was a little better. I stress, A LITTLE.
Oh, Ben Decker. I think he needs to go ahead and let the singing ambition go. His myspace says he's POP/ROCK/POWERPOP. Hmmm. It also states "Ben Decker is an entrepreneur." Yeaahhhh, okay.
I think Ben Decker WANTS to be a really great singer. Don't we all? But I really think if you're going to ask people to be friends with your "official site of Ben Decker," you should probably have something really spectacular to offer them.
For example, I know of a singing group, all in one family who also have a musical myspace site. However, they try to NOT get people to become their friends because they are horrified at some of the "music" they put out on their last CD. They also hope to redeem themselves with another album, someday.
Poor Ben Decker. I feel kinda bad for him. On the other hand, my compassion only reaches so far when stupidity is involved...... :0)
Why I Choose Dogs Instead of Dating
"Previously published on Julie Johnson's Facebook site."
Inspiration has struck! I now have an amazing answer to shut people up when they ask me about my dating life.
Random person - "So what's going on with the dating situation?"
Julie - "Oh, I've chosen a dog instead of a date."
Sure, I may receive quizzical looks, and it might spur people on to walk away from me a little bit faster. But honestly, what can I receive from dating that I can't receive from a dog?
#1 - Dating is awkward. You have those first date jitters and wonder whether or not Mr. Lame is going to open the car door for you, or just leave you standing in the driveway, looking like an idiot when he's already in the car and you are still standing there. A dog, if properly trained via the Dog Whisperer Method by Cesar Milan, will ALWAYS allow you to enter any doorway first, and will follow closely behind.
#2 - We wait by the phone to see if he will call. What am I saying? We no longer wait by the phone, we sit while holding the phone, since phones are now small enough to fit in the palm of our hands. We also have the "delicately-sit-the-phone-down-by-your-plate-in-case-you-miss-a-text" move. We aren't really fooling anyone.
A dog, if properly trained via the Dog Whisperer Method by Cesar Milan, will ALWAYS come when they are called. They don't pace themselves to wait three days before they contact you. And they usually are a huge fan of running to the door to greet you when you return home.
#3 - A date consists of dressing up, going out to eat, stressing over what to order, then stressing whether or not Mr. Tightwad is going to pick up the check or not....
A dog, if properly trained via the Dog Whisperer Method by Cesar Milan, will wait at your feet until you feed him. He also doesn't care if you are wearing the latest ensemble by Dolce & Gabana, or the track-suit special from Target. There is no "check" to pick up, only the empty bowl. And you usually get a few slobbery kisses because you were kind enough to sit a bowl full of dried and very un-appetizing brown bits down in front of him or her.
Many of you may be under the impression that this blog was born out of a bad dating experience. Quite the contrary. There has been no date experience to reflect upon. And you know what? That is soooo okay with me.
I've come to the place in my life that all I really want besides what I have, is a dog!
Sure, I have to wait until I'm done with college to get a dog, but I'd have to wait until I'm done with college to date, as well. At this point, I have time for neither men nor dogs. And I'm good with that.
Selfish of me? Maybe.
Wise? Definitely.
My family and friends are such amazing people, they give me what I need emotionally. I lack nothing. And I realize I should take more time to think on that than I do. I'm a blessed girl. Even without the dates. Or the dogs.
***Update***
I wrote this blog almost a year and a half ago.....I'm still very happy with my current situation and lack of dating life...mostly. :0) I have since realized that dogs take up a large portion of your time. But they're worth it. Their chocolate brown eyes can get them out of the spanking they so justly deserve for missing the pee-pad by 3 feet.....and the fact that they sleep best when sleeping under the covers with you, well....it makes a person feel loved and needed.
More importantly, I've realized that a dog can take care of the two most reoccurring thoughts a thirty-something woman might have....
Babies and boyfriends.
It's a blessing.
Inspiration has struck! I now have an amazing answer to shut people up when they ask me about my dating life.
Random person - "So what's going on with the dating situation?"
Julie - "Oh, I've chosen a dog instead of a date."
Sure, I may receive quizzical looks, and it might spur people on to walk away from me a little bit faster. But honestly, what can I receive from dating that I can't receive from a dog?
#1 - Dating is awkward. You have those first date jitters and wonder whether or not Mr. Lame is going to open the car door for you, or just leave you standing in the driveway, looking like an idiot when he's already in the car and you are still standing there. A dog, if properly trained via the Dog Whisperer Method by Cesar Milan, will ALWAYS allow you to enter any doorway first, and will follow closely behind.
#2 - We wait by the phone to see if he will call. What am I saying? We no longer wait by the phone, we sit while holding the phone, since phones are now small enough to fit in the palm of our hands. We also have the "delicately-sit-the-phone-down-by-your-plate-in-case-you-miss-a-text" move. We aren't really fooling anyone.
A dog, if properly trained via the Dog Whisperer Method by Cesar Milan, will ALWAYS come when they are called. They don't pace themselves to wait three days before they contact you. And they usually are a huge fan of running to the door to greet you when you return home.
#3 - A date consists of dressing up, going out to eat, stressing over what to order, then stressing whether or not Mr. Tightwad is going to pick up the check or not....
A dog, if properly trained via the Dog Whisperer Method by Cesar Milan, will wait at your feet until you feed him. He also doesn't care if you are wearing the latest ensemble by Dolce & Gabana, or the track-suit special from Target. There is no "check" to pick up, only the empty bowl. And you usually get a few slobbery kisses because you were kind enough to sit a bowl full of dried and very un-appetizing brown bits down in front of him or her.
Many of you may be under the impression that this blog was born out of a bad dating experience. Quite the contrary. There has been no date experience to reflect upon. And you know what? That is soooo okay with me.
I've come to the place in my life that all I really want besides what I have, is a dog!
Sure, I have to wait until I'm done with college to get a dog, but I'd have to wait until I'm done with college to date, as well. At this point, I have time for neither men nor dogs. And I'm good with that.
Selfish of me? Maybe.
Wise? Definitely.
My family and friends are such amazing people, they give me what I need emotionally. I lack nothing. And I realize I should take more time to think on that than I do. I'm a blessed girl. Even without the dates. Or the dogs.
***Update***
I wrote this blog almost a year and a half ago.....I'm still very happy with my current situation and lack of dating life...mostly. :0) I have since realized that dogs take up a large portion of your time. But they're worth it. Their chocolate brown eyes can get them out of the spanking they so justly deserve for missing the pee-pad by 3 feet.....and the fact that they sleep best when sleeping under the covers with you, well....it makes a person feel loved and needed.
More importantly, I've realized that a dog can take care of the two most reoccurring thoughts a thirty-something woman might have....
Babies and boyfriends.
It's a blessing.
The Things We Do For Love
"Previously published on Julie Johnson's Facebook site."
We've all probably been caught in the midst of a ridiculous idea or scheme, and had the fortitude to blame it on "love." In all actuality, love really WAS to blame, I'm sure. As in most cases, love spurs us on to acquire, purchase, sing, recite, even dance, to the crazy ideals of its nature.
I bought two tickets to the Jonas Brothers Concert.......after procuring a sale for my liver on the black medical market......in addition to buying a subscription to TEAM JONAS (the like-ohmygah-official-fan-club) in order to buy said tickets a week before they "officially" go on sale.
And I can say it's all because of love.........
I love my nieces more than just about anyone on the planet. They were my first-borns. And as my own Tauntie will tell you, there is something special about first-borns. I have sat through two Disney on Ice Productions (Princesses on Ice....was seriously cool, High School Musical on Ice.....well, I could have done without), I have fallen asleep through movies (Arthur and the Incredibles), and I have laughed until I cried as they discovered the joys of 3-D (The Jonas Brothers Movie in Digital 3-D....also pretty cool....and there's nothing like Joe Jonas, shirtless, in 3-D......hey....don't judge me, I'm just being honest). And my most recent venture, which includes me taking two seven year olds, myself and their mother to a rock concert, is sure to be one large, sweaty, singing, screaming fest....and that's just from me and Kim.
Kidding. We won't scream. Okay, maybe a little. But you're allowed to at concerts.
In a normal, rational world, most seven year olds would not be taken to a concert, on a week night. But this is Tauntie World.
Yes, I could have probably bought a Wicked Ticket for the amount of money I spent on two tickets to Jonas Brothers (and I've only wanted to see that broadway musical for 4 1/2 years, no big deal). However, in addition to watching what is sure to be a spectacular show, I also get to see the joy, insanity and adoration in my nieces eyes as they gaze at their childhood crushes belting out their tunes on a stage the size of a small country.
Did I spend too much money? Definitely.
Will I regret it? Absolutely not.
I did it for love.........
We've all probably been caught in the midst of a ridiculous idea or scheme, and had the fortitude to blame it on "love." In all actuality, love really WAS to blame, I'm sure. As in most cases, love spurs us on to acquire, purchase, sing, recite, even dance, to the crazy ideals of its nature.
I bought two tickets to the Jonas Brothers Concert.......after procuring a sale for my liver on the black medical market......in addition to buying a subscription to TEAM JONAS (the like-ohmygah-official-fan-club) in order to buy said tickets a week before they "officially" go on sale.
And I can say it's all because of love.........
I love my nieces more than just about anyone on the planet. They were my first-borns. And as my own Tauntie will tell you, there is something special about first-borns. I have sat through two Disney on Ice Productions (Princesses on Ice....was seriously cool, High School Musical on Ice.....well, I could have done without), I have fallen asleep through movies (Arthur and the Incredibles), and I have laughed until I cried as they discovered the joys of 3-D (The Jonas Brothers Movie in Digital 3-D....also pretty cool....and there's nothing like Joe Jonas, shirtless, in 3-D......hey....don't judge me, I'm just being honest). And my most recent venture, which includes me taking two seven year olds, myself and their mother to a rock concert, is sure to be one large, sweaty, singing, screaming fest....and that's just from me and Kim.
Kidding. We won't scream. Okay, maybe a little. But you're allowed to at concerts.
In a normal, rational world, most seven year olds would not be taken to a concert, on a week night. But this is Tauntie World.
Yes, I could have probably bought a Wicked Ticket for the amount of money I spent on two tickets to Jonas Brothers (and I've only wanted to see that broadway musical for 4 1/2 years, no big deal). However, in addition to watching what is sure to be a spectacular show, I also get to see the joy, insanity and adoration in my nieces eyes as they gaze at their childhood crushes belting out their tunes on a stage the size of a small country.
Did I spend too much money? Definitely.
Will I regret it? Absolutely not.
I did it for love.........
Hunters / Gatherers
"Previously published on Julie Johnson's Facebook site."
Although most hunters, fishers and outdoorsmen will know exactly what I speak of within this note, I think most everyone can agree with what I say, whether you are a novice gatherer or city folk.
There is something about acquiring a live animal, be it by rifle or pole, and skinning/gutting it in order to have it table ready in the space of two hours.
Only the human race can fashion a gathering device such as a fishing pole, take a bit of clear twine, put a piece of metal on the end of it, add a live minnow, place it in a lake and come up with a 10 inch sand bass. But the genius doesn't stop there. After catching the large fish, you can then place it on a fiberglass board, and fillet the fish minus any bones, place it in cold water, and take it straight to the cast iron skillet shortly thereafter.
And there is something about that feeling..........you've caught the fish entirely on your own. You even tied your own knots in the fishing line! You baited your own hook! You reeled it in yourself!! You gutted the sucker!!!! And you did it well....even better than your brother!!!
There's a word for it. Empowerment.
Knowing that if i were stuck in the mountains somewhere and could survive because of my fishing skills, well....that pretty much solidifies me as amazing. And resourceful.
It kind of makes you want to break out into a Whitney Houston version of "I'm Every Woman." Okay, maybe not ALL of you.....
I've come a long way from being the chicago-kid-newbie-that-had-no-idea-where-oklahoma-was.
I will never go hungry....and it's comforting to know that.
Although most hunters, fishers and outdoorsmen will know exactly what I speak of within this note, I think most everyone can agree with what I say, whether you are a novice gatherer or city folk.
There is something about acquiring a live animal, be it by rifle or pole, and skinning/gutting it in order to have it table ready in the space of two hours.
Only the human race can fashion a gathering device such as a fishing pole, take a bit of clear twine, put a piece of metal on the end of it, add a live minnow, place it in a lake and come up with a 10 inch sand bass. But the genius doesn't stop there. After catching the large fish, you can then place it on a fiberglass board, and fillet the fish minus any bones, place it in cold water, and take it straight to the cast iron skillet shortly thereafter.
And there is something about that feeling..........you've caught the fish entirely on your own. You even tied your own knots in the fishing line! You baited your own hook! You reeled it in yourself!! You gutted the sucker!!!! And you did it well....even better than your brother!!!
There's a word for it. Empowerment.
Knowing that if i were stuck in the mountains somewhere and could survive because of my fishing skills, well....that pretty much solidifies me as amazing. And resourceful.
It kind of makes you want to break out into a Whitney Houston version of "I'm Every Woman." Okay, maybe not ALL of you.....
I've come a long way from being the chicago-kid-newbie-that-had-no-idea-where-oklahoma-was.
I will never go hungry....and it's comforting to know that.
Exercising With The General Public......Never A Good Idea
"I plagiarized myself....I wrote this awhile back, and put it in FB notes....no harm in re-publishing it on my blog, right?" :0)
When exercising, is it necessary to vocalize, as tennis players do? Does lifting weight require a person to sound as if they are possibly dying of some deadly disease?
Taking a trip to the local gym provides much subject matter to discuss. Let's forget for a moment that when going to the gym and the front counter says they are "out of towels until Tuesday" means I will have to share machines with very sweaty men and because of a laundry mix-up, I have no towel, drenched with sanitizer, to wipe the exercise equipment down with. This poses a problem for any germophobe.....my solution? Skip the machines that the gross guys have touched. When they leave behind sweat residue, you know it's time to pick a different CyberFlex Resistance Apparatus.
But its interesting to note here, that these same men who are sweating all over the tri-state area of the Resistance Room, are also the same ones grunting and counting out loud as they set their machines to a resistance of 50 pounds.
Now, I'm no IronWoman. But even I can lift 50 pounds on certain pieces. Do they grunt because they want to be noticed? Do they grunt because the 50 pounds is REALLY that heavy? Do they even realize they are making fools of themselves, because all the women in the same room are catching each other's eye and smirking?
Let's take Dad #1 as our first example. Dad 1 walks into the exercise room. He looks as if he's just spent an hour on an eliptical machine. He comes into the room, tosses his keys in a corner, and heads to a machine that twists your torso so that in 22 years your abs can look like Gerard Butler's from 300. Trying to complete my 100 crunches on the machine next to him, I go on counting silently to myself and appreciating the fact that he left his machine long enough to turn the radio on. I am thankful for that since I never thought to do it myself. He resumes his workout and begins to twist back and forth. From the sound of his shallow breathing and very loud "1.....2.....3.....4," I assume he is twisting at a resistance of maybe 150 pounds or so. Hmmm, trying to look at his weight resistance and appear incognito at the same time doesn't work too well for me. It was either 30, or 50 pounds. Let's give him the benefit of the doubt that he was working with 50. Twisting 50 can be rough. Okay. But must you count out loud??? I'm on 39, or was it 40? Thanks so much, Dad 1. I just lost count!! The out-loud counting stops. Did he hear my ranting, telepathically? That's what it seems like. Maybe I do have a little of that paranormal ability. I've often wondered......
Coming up on crunch #50, I'm disappointed to see an even sweatier....man....thing...something, thats covered in dark hair all over, join the room. He looks as if he's been swimming......but there is no pool at this gym.
And lucky me.....he selects the machine I had in mind as my next target.
And I will not be using that machine today.
Soon, I realize that Hairy Beast and Dad 1 are in a grunting contest.....who-can-lift-the-least-amount-of-weight-while-sounding-like-a-water-buffalo.
I look at my work-out-buddy, Sheridan, and she asks if I'm ready to go.
It's great how we can communicate with nothing more than a wordless...."ohmygosh," or an even better "so retarded!"
I think we agreed to try to the gym a couple hours earlier the next day
When exercising, is it necessary to vocalize, as tennis players do? Does lifting weight require a person to sound as if they are possibly dying of some deadly disease?
Taking a trip to the local gym provides much subject matter to discuss. Let's forget for a moment that when going to the gym and the front counter says they are "out of towels until Tuesday" means I will have to share machines with very sweaty men and because of a laundry mix-up, I have no towel, drenched with sanitizer, to wipe the exercise equipment down with. This poses a problem for any germophobe.....my solution? Skip the machines that the gross guys have touched. When they leave behind sweat residue, you know it's time to pick a different CyberFlex Resistance Apparatus.
But its interesting to note here, that these same men who are sweating all over the tri-state area of the Resistance Room, are also the same ones grunting and counting out loud as they set their machines to a resistance of 50 pounds.
Now, I'm no IronWoman. But even I can lift 50 pounds on certain pieces. Do they grunt because they want to be noticed? Do they grunt because the 50 pounds is REALLY that heavy? Do they even realize they are making fools of themselves, because all the women in the same room are catching each other's eye and smirking?
Let's take Dad #1 as our first example. Dad 1 walks into the exercise room. He looks as if he's just spent an hour on an eliptical machine. He comes into the room, tosses his keys in a corner, and heads to a machine that twists your torso so that in 22 years your abs can look like Gerard Butler's from 300. Trying to complete my 100 crunches on the machine next to him, I go on counting silently to myself and appreciating the fact that he left his machine long enough to turn the radio on. I am thankful for that since I never thought to do it myself. He resumes his workout and begins to twist back and forth. From the sound of his shallow breathing and very loud "1.....2.....3.....4," I assume he is twisting at a resistance of maybe 150 pounds or so. Hmmm, trying to look at his weight resistance and appear incognito at the same time doesn't work too well for me. It was either 30, or 50 pounds. Let's give him the benefit of the doubt that he was working with 50. Twisting 50 can be rough. Okay. But must you count out loud??? I'm on 39, or was it 40? Thanks so much, Dad 1. I just lost count!! The out-loud counting stops. Did he hear my ranting, telepathically? That's what it seems like. Maybe I do have a little of that paranormal ability. I've often wondered......
Coming up on crunch #50, I'm disappointed to see an even sweatier....man....thing...something, thats covered in dark hair all over, join the room. He looks as if he's been swimming......but there is no pool at this gym.
And lucky me.....he selects the machine I had in mind as my next target.
And I will not be using that machine today.
Soon, I realize that Hairy Beast and Dad 1 are in a grunting contest.....who-can-lift-the-least-amount-of-weight-while-sounding-like-a-water-buffalo.
I look at my work-out-buddy, Sheridan, and she asks if I'm ready to go.
It's great how we can communicate with nothing more than a wordless...."ohmygosh," or an even better "so retarded!"
I think we agreed to try to the gym a couple hours earlier the next day
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