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May 16, 2025
More in Julie's Poetic Prattlings & Creative mishaps Journal
Another attempt at online journaling
Let's see how long before this one dies.
I'm lousy at keeping up with journals. I always have been. So don't expect this to be any different. I won't.
on Sep. 21 2007
Jesus in my Chocolate Milk
I'm not crazy. I'm serious. (Ok, well maybe I'm a little crazy.)
Ok, so, last night, my 3-year-old wanted chocolate milk with dinner. I conceded, since he'd already eaten well and, well, I wanted some chocolate milk too. So I poured the milk, doled out the Nesquik, and stirred it up. When drinking tea or chocolate milk, I have a habit of swirling my cup in between swigs, so as to avoid leaving the good stuff settled on the bottom. It was after such a swirl stopped, once I had drunk about half the cup, that I saw it: a tiny 3/4 view face, perfectly rendered. I thought, "cool" and grabbed the camera. Unfortunately, my camera wouldn't let me get a clear shot. But then, when I was reviewing the shots on my camera, I saw something, someone else: Jesus in my cup. "Jesus?" you ask, skeptically. Of course it's Jesus. It's always Jesus or Mary who show up in the most unsuspecting of places, right? On a cheese sandwich. In an oil slick... why not in a cup of chocolate milk? Then I took another look: I saw a lion in there too. I got goosebumps. Interestingly enough, the tiny face, Jesus, and the lion all share portions of their faces. Whoa. Trinity much. I know, you all think I'm nuts, right? Check it out for yourself and tell me what you think. I'm attaching the original photo; all I've done is bumped up the contrast for clarity. Hopefully I'll be able to point out the stuff as I see it later. Your local Symbol Seeker, Julie PS - for another thread, but before I forget. I watched The Number 23 the other night and the bonus features in the wee hours this morning. I figured out my numbers... My "Life Path" number is 7. I think that's freaky. Especially since I generally don't buy into numerology, astrology, feng shui, ect.
Jesus in my Chocolate Milk
on Dec. 12 2007
death sentence overturned
Ok, so perhaps that's too dramatic...
It never reallly was a death sentence, still any kind of cancer, in any degree, is scary. Cancer is a scary word. Weighty and full of dread. (Even the sounds are ominous... the hard C start, the serpent hissing "s" in the middle, and the growl of an "r" at the end...) So when your best friend calls to say she doesn't have the stuff, it makes for a wonderful day.
on Aug. 12 2007
how cool is this!
...nothing special, just playing with Jonathan's pocket pc
at some point I'll need to make a style sheet for this site that mobile devices won't gag on.
in the meantime, the cover for smr #2 is coming along nicely...
on Jul. 25 2007
On finishing HP7... (**CONTAINS MINOR SPOILERS!**)
MAY CONTAIN "HARRY POTTER AND THE DEATHLY HALLOWS" SPOILERS!!!
It's late. (EARLY.) It's 3 AM (...*drifts into singing "3AM" by Matchbox Twenty*... "I must be lonely..") Anyhow... I just finished all 759pages of HP7. I don't want to give anything away to those who're still working on the book, but I must say, I speculated pretty darn well. Regarding....Horcruxes ... I was on targetDumbledore ... I was on the right pathSnape... I was SO right.Deaths...not whom I expected
Harry's fate... I was rightThe method of accepting said fate... I should have seen it coming, but didn't.Harry's Final Outcome ... I was (gladly) off. JKR's final word ... I had guessed "love" which it is not, but it is the tone. (She'd said it was to be "scar" but changed it in the 11th hour)
Now I need to sleep. I am content.
on Jul. 5 2007
Dreaming in Color
It used to mean something different to me...
Probably about a week ago, I woke in the morning, heavily impressed by a dream I'd just had. This was odd for a couple reasons: first, because I had not had a memorable dream in quite some time, and secondly, because I wasn't remembering what happened in the dream. In fact, I don't think anything did happen in the dream. What I remembered: a massive Celtic-like design in sage green, two different tints. Odd. This morning -- or maybe it was last night -- I had a similar experience. This time, it wasn't green. It was mostly black and violet. Again, there was no "plot" to my dream. Instead, it was a place, but more so, it was COLOR. I don't remember anything about the space except that it was a room. The color, again, was what impressed me: The walls were black, and there were spots of violet and flourescent pink, as if the only light in the room was a black light. Again, odd. ... I've always dreamed in color, but it had not been the primary focus until now.
on June 28 2007
crap I need to write
I'm in a wordless rut again.
I can't write. I've forgotten how. Everything my fingers touch turns to shit. I can't get past the thoughts of what needs to be done, what I need to write, what I haven't written yet: they flood my mind, clouding it, like too many too many too many tiny raindrops meeting, pounding weakened levees, they come in gushes while I'm driving, or otherwise unavailable to write them down, give them their due attention. And by the time I am prepared to meet them, with pen and paper or at blank screen, they have trickled away, slithered into fissures, absorbed into parched earth. I am left with muddy streaks across my path, but no words.
I need to write about the night the baby woke up right as we, sleep-deprived and sex-starved, managed to get into the height of foreplay. I laughed, found it poetically ironic that the baby chose then to scream. After attempting to give him a bottle, sooth him in the swing, change his diaper, I packed him up to take him to wal-mart. by then, there was no hope of sexual satisfaction, so I figured I'd get something, anything done. I did my errands at 1:38 am in my pajamas with an infant. No one seemed to care that I was in my flannel pajama pants. No one knew about the black thong I wore underneath. The baby fell asleep in the car on the way home, only to wake up 15 minutes after going back in.
I need to write about the 26 year old pregnant woman in Ohio who was murdered a couple weeks ago. I don't know why I need to write about this, except that it haunts me. I was relaying the story to my mom who'd not heard about it, and in talking about her little 2-year-old boy who seems to have witnessed the event, I started to cry. I don't know the woman, her family, anything. but even now, I'm getting choked up. I feel so incredibly connected to her, it scares me.
I need to write about Food network. The way the cooks talk about food as if it were a lover, the way it always turns out perfect, the way they always sample the food they've prepared when they're done, usually eating it alone.
I need to write about giant dancing hamburgers.
I need to write about how I know I'm frustrating my husband.
I need to write about cicadas again.
I need to write about Grandpap R.
I need to write about ruts.
And a thousand other things, but I don't know where to start.
on June 30 2007
It's not about $1.50.
The stupid things that incite arguments...
I swear I'm not angry about the extra dollar-fifty I spent on his razors by getting the ones he said to get, the wrong ones that still fit but are unnecessary. No, I'm pissed that instead of listening to me or even putting on his damn glasses to look for himself, he ripped open the box, making sure I couldn't return them even if I wanted to, and checked to see if they fit. Of course they fit: it said so on the box. The point is, there's no reason to get the goods with "added functionality" if you're not going to use said "added functionality."
Stupid.
It just pisses me off that my word's not good enough.
on June 20 2007
the taste of my toes
I wrote a piece by that name once, and what a piece it was...
I'm going to have to write that one again, I think.
on June 14 2007
Sometimes...
I wish I had the willpower to step away from the email. I'm pretty damn sure I'm addicted.
on June 13 2007
two sisters
our differences still catch me off guard
So, Laura, my 24-year-old sister is expecting. They were married in October and she is now expecting and due January 3rd or 4th. For most people, that's still considered jumping into parenthood quickly. But Laura & Mike, both more "by the book" Catholics than most, have been trying to get pregnant for months. Since before they were married, Laura has been going to doctors, knowing something was funky with her hormones. She's been on supplements, gotten injections, and after plenty of trying and doctor visits, they've conceived. But today, she emailed me, rightly worried: her progesterone has dropped significantly, which, in a worst-case scenario could suggest a coming miscarriage. My stomach turns with empathy, but, I'm at ease that she and the baby will be fine. Still, I find the whole situation has a certain kind of irony: they, the couple who can afford the big family they want, may only be given one or two children after lots of prayer and trying. Meanwhile, "fertile myrtle" that I am, I'm afraid of thinking of sex for fear of having to support another child yet.
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