I know, I know

Its been awhile since I posted... Much has happened. Moved to Texas. Have been dating Dan. Mom had a bout of colon cancer. Almost flunked out of school.

a very uncomfortable bed

a very uncomfortable bed
Originally uploaded by thejustini.

keeping up with all that i want to accomplish

a full-time job, it seems:

http://www.43things.com/person/thejustini

Marianne!

I found my old ballet buddy from Texas, Marianne. Our mothers went to the same high school; in fact my mother introduced her mother to her father. We lost touch after she moved to Amarillo as a teenager, and then she went to Austin when I moved to Holland. Marianne is now some kind of artiste, a folk singer slash playwright. She picked me up from Fulham Broadway and took me to a barbeque at her guitarist's house. Leon was grilling up sausages, which was a gift from the gods, as I was famished after having only 2 crackers and about eight grapes all day. Marianne and I each had a bottle of Spanish red wine, and got ridiculously drunk, or caned as they call it here. Leon then took us to different pubs. Marianne was in the middle of a band drama with the other female member and her husband of her band, so we sent naughty text messages all night. There's drunk dialing, but we were drunk texting, which was apparant the next day when we read how we were too drunk to "boycycle" home -- the freudian slip here apropos... We ended up spending the night on Leon's uncomfortable futons. I remember thinking it was weird to be sleeping in a part of London I had no idea how to locate -- was it North? East? West?. Marianne and I woke at 8 am, and kept talking like silly schoolgirls about boys and men. Leon was asleep, so I did the dishes. Marianne kept telling me it was so "Texas of me," but it was the least I could do after his kind babysitting, and all the cups of tea he made for us post pubbing.

Marianne and I went then, unshowered and horribly hungover, to have coffee at the Flea Pit (unforunate name) at the Columbia flower market. It was fantastic. I loved the servingware the cafe used. Very 60s and 70s and all mix and match. Outside it was a beautiful market with beautiful flowers. She bought me two orchid plants for my room, and some heather for her own garden. We stopped at a place to have cupcakes which made me feel like I was in kindergarten when it was someone's birthday and the mom brought cupcakes for the class.

After walking through the hip crowds and pretty ferns and plants, we went to my place and then walked through my neighborhood which is actually INTERESTING!!!! I haven't been to the north part of Camden where all the markets were... Wow! She also showed me Primrose Hill, which is upscale and sedate, but more importantly adjacent to Camden. Tuesday I will go back and apply for cafe jobs there.

To cap it off we had a fantastic dinner at Belgo, where I had BELGIAN food!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Mussels and frites, creme brulee, more wine... I was in heaven! She also reminded me of something important: she said that it was okay not to know what I wanted to do with my life, as the most interesting people in the world don't.

Marianne and I are doing the flower market thing as our Sunday ritual. It was great to hook up with an old friend, one from Texas no less (here come the accents...), and see London with a pro. Magnificent day.

Spa Red and hello kitty calendar - 2 of my favorite things

“PLE yee EE ease”
So glad I have my iPod. Whenever I start to dream about soft, expensive sheets and a comfortable bed, I have Bono’s voice bellowing, overtaking my brain and steering it away from languishing desires.
“PLE yee EE ease.”
“Get up off your knees, now. PLE yee EE ease.”
I love Bono.
Nobel prize nominee.
Artiste.
Saint.
Sinner.
Meglomaniac.
Kind-hearted one, though.
And a great drug, too.

Here is a list of things I wish I brought:
Salad spinner
Brita water pitcher
Gigantic fluffy mattress pad
Duvet
Pots & pans including steamer
Outlet converters

Things I need to get
USB key
Fitness membership
Scissors
Duvet
GIGANTIC FLUFFY MATTRESS PAD
Nail polish remover
Internet access
Sweaters!
Mobile phone
Stylish walking shoes

Things I am glad I brought:
Photos of Alex
All my jewellery
Vivid Crest toothpaste
The poster Mel bought me of Ft. Worth museums
Pens
Hello Kitty calendar

Things I am pleased to have found:
Cafes in walking distance
Sainsbury’s
Douwe Egberts coffee!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Spa Red Sparkling Water
Mature Cheddar cheese
The “Lite” newspaper, it’s free and has an incredible gig listing
The 99p store
Gorgeous old buildings
Inspiration to do well.


The austerity program is working fitness-wise. My diet consists of rye crackers, extra sharp cheddar cheese, black currant yoghurt (with probiotics!), red and green grapes, coffee, apples and Belgian sparkling water. Combined with my refusal to pay $3 for a bus ride, my pants are already baggy and my cheekbones and dimples are becoming more defined. I notice I smile more.

Spa Red and hello kitty calendar - 2 of my favorite things
Originally uploaded by thejustini.

running around

I’m running out of money fast. In fact, after all the necessities: train rides, contact lens solution, coffee, etc. I am down to £20 until my funding posts. There is something about poverty that is helpful. It forces you to stop taking things for granted and debate how much you want something. Internet access in the dorm (£70) becomes a luxury. Since I am without a duvet & nearly froze my first night despite wearing flannel pajamas and socks, plus layers of towels, I actually took an abandoned blanket in the hall. Never in my life would I have taken someone’s discarded bedding, but the blanket was soft, cream-colored, and appeared clean. Plus if it stays on top of the bedspread, I don’t have to touch it…Anyway. It’s funny how you adapt to circumstances. Appropriate, since I am in the land of Darwin...

Attempted to open a bank account. Probably one of the most tedious processes in the world. You need to deposit £2000 to open an account. My department can’t give me funding until I have an opened an account, so I am in the middle of a Catch-22. Has to be resolved by October something or I have to leave school. I don’t mind not eating, but this is worrisome.

Met with the European Studies department, or as they are abbreviated on my ID card: Euro Studs. “So, what do you study?” “Euro Studs.” Judging from the French boys I filled out my bank forms with, that might be true!

Registered for a doctor. I am now part of the NHS.

Scouted for jobs. Holding out for a bar/pub position.

Looked at the gym. Gorgeous, but only 2 yoga classes. Which are 2 more than I currently take…

Still need to find out about the Italian & French classes. Ho dimenticato parlare italiano.

Flying - Camden - Room

British Airways has comfortable seats. So. I’m in 29C. A British guy, cute, with nice skin and a hip, green Puma jacket and short cropped hair is in 29A. No one sits between us, so we throw all our blankets and pillows there. The guy talks about his recent trip to Las Vegas & San Francisco, and asks my reasons for going to the UK. He later asks me what my husband thinks of my year-long venture to London, which confuses me, then I see I have my Grandmother’s wedding ring on my left hand. I explain my utter lack of desire for a husband and he laughs. The sun has long descended so I shut my tired eyes, leaning against the headrest. I feel his hand lightly brush against my arm. Then again. I narrowly open my eyes, and I see him inching his hand across the empty seat towards my elbow. He flicks his hand across it twice. Did this 27 year old forget when I told him I was 40? I turn away pretending to be asleep, and finally fall asleep. When I wake up, I find my hand in his! I ran to the bathroom where I splashed water on my face until someone started banging on the door. By then the breakfast service started so we had to eat, give back our trays and trash and then, finally, land. I was so flustered by his overtures. He put his phone number in my bag. I won’t call, of course. But I admire his boldness. At least he's clear.

The immigration officer saw my scholarship letter of support and told me it was one of the largest she had ever seen. Nice.

There is a quality about England that is hard to describe. Archaic and antiquedated come to mind. So does old. One gigantic flea market might describe it best. England seems like it was constructed out of rummage sale artefacts: too small pipes. Faded wallpaper. Old-time phones. Antique-looking lighting fixtures. Ancient, red bricks. Still it’s familiar, like a Great Aunt’s easy chair.

Camden is pretty working class. Lots of junky stores with second rate household goods. A Caribbean man inside a phone store, in a nice suit and starched shirt, pushes phone service. Outside, a sea of different ethnicities and ages waits at the bus stop. There was a crazy man jumping between passers-by saying “I love you.” It made everyone nervous. Grandmothers push quilted shopping carts with their groceries and flowers. A reminder of what’s important in this world: food and flowers.

There is a definite shift when you get near campus. More banker types. Lots of people on cell phones. Suddenly, traffic is furious and there is a bustle all around. I like both neighborhoods. And I like the walk.

So my room. When I got off the train with my 180 pounds of luggage and navigated King’s Cross without an elevator (ergo the twelve bruises on my arm), I nearly collapsed at the residence hall reception, when they told me that they had no rooms. I grabbed the manager by the shoulders and said “Sweetie, do you want to see a grown woman cry?” He acquiesced and showed me a room that wasn’t ready. It looked like a prison cell. Or one of those Japanese capsule hotels. I came back to the manager and batted my eyelashes yet again and did my best Texas drawl. “Do you have something a little bit bigger?” and he gave me the 2 bedroom apartment on the third floor. This means I share with only one other person. As opposed to 3, 4 or 5 people. Can you imagine me, the shower queen having to share with 4 people? I would be the roommate, er sorry, flatmate, from hell. My room is cute. It is squarer. Has a sink, desk, nightstand, armoire. The bed is the size of a Snickers bar and feels like it is made entirely of springs. Luckily jet-lag allows you to sleep anywhere.

There is something both terrifying and exhilarating about being in London not knowing anyone, especially while being without internet or a phone. If I was hit by a bus (plausible scenario given the counter-intuitive traffic patterns)… would anyone know to look for me? But as soon as you realize that you don’t HAVE to die anytime soon, you see how pleasant it is to be anonymous and invisible. I can finally reinvent myself.

Me and Alex heading towards the beach

B0000178
Originally uploaded by thejustini.

webcams

webcams
Originally uploaded by thejustini.

are funny.

Sweet

it has been awhile since i posted. for one, my daughter moved to belgium. two, had a semester of statistics. three, i started working part time for a firm based in los angeles. four, graduated. five, drove cross country to california to work full time for said job... so haven't thought much about blogging. but here is a photo of me in LA. i'm happy.

its beautiful out

ugh. i'm drowning in doctor bills. $45,000 and that's after insurance. haven't paid three credit card bills this month (goodbye credit rating...so long, solvency). it's bone-chill freezing outside, but i am a very happy person. i have a great kid. i'm getting an amazing education. and my stepmother sent me a giant tin of her amazing fudge.

In the words of Julie Andrews -- These Are a Few

of My Favorite Things:

 Alexandra’s scribblings
 Beach
 Belgian Cuisine
 Books
 Bombay Sapphire
 Bowling When Intoxicated
 Browsing Through Bookstores
 Christmas Lights
 Dark Chocolate
 Diners
 Dinner Parties
 Dusk
 Europe
 Galleries
 Flannel Pajamas
 Flea Markets
 Food
 Gorgeous Landscapes
 Hot Cocoa with Fat Marshmallows
 Organic Food
 Literature
 Museums
 Red Wine
 Restaurants
 Road Trips
 Sleeping
 Stars at Night (Big and Bright...)
 Strong Coffee
 Writing

Christmas List for the next five years

- flannel pajamas
- more flannel pajamas
- silk pajamas
- warm boots (the Marinac Sherpa ones by Land's End in Camel look great)
- Demeter Fragrances in Pumpkin Pie, Creme Brulee, and Cinnamon Bun
- all of Lynda Barry's books, except the scary one
- a bigger television but nothin' fancy
- a comfy dark red sofa
- an entire week's worth of workout clothes
- dark Belgian chocolates from Antwerp
- a giant European dining table, the kind that is old and weathered and seats 10

architecture

is for those who do not value sleep.
i, on the other hand, withdrew from the course.

despair!

this past october 26th the decade clock rolled over and i turned forty. numbers that drive a woman straight to the cabernet and chocolate mousse. alas, i have vowed to become healthy. have not wolfed down alex’s incredible chocolate cake. sliced it up and put it in the freezer. drinking more green tea, and trying to limit sugar… as in having virtually none. want to be gorgeous gorgeous gorgeous even though i’m for-tay.

See more progress on: Be 40, fit and fabulosa

brisk

fall is here. the leaves have just started to gently cover the sidewalks and porch. i think sweater weather is the best time of year.

alex is uncomfortable in her brace. her incision is healing nicely, though. miraculously, we are both in school. and coincidentally we are taking the same kind of classes: painting and english. i also have an economic development class, and an architecture 101 class that masquerades as an urban design class (urban design is about the complexities of the built environment, and architecture is essentially about buildings, though architects would probably argue otherwise).

alex is taking her first anthropology class. it is funny to have her at the table asking me about the difference between emic and etic, giving me examples of naive realism or ethocentric behavior or querying the ethics of anthropology, as in "can you bring modern technology to populations that don't have it or is that imposing our culture on theirs?"

school is great. fall is great. school in the fall is the greatest.

supoena

okay, maybe santa monica has friendly people, but apparently it has bad apples, too. i got a supoena to appear in court today. mind you it was to appear at the Los Angeles County Courthouse on September 20th, and I received the supoena in my mailbox on September 24th. it is for the case where some worker at Santa Monica Honda went through the files and stole social security numbers and other information, including mine. she opened several cell phone accounts in my name and racked up large unpaid bills. the postal inspector (of all people) caught her, and now she's going to trial, hence, the supoena. one thing is for sure, i use a shredder all the time for anything with personal info on it. clearing up credit reports: ugh.

alex

the bills are trickling in.
the brace: $6300
hospital room and board alone: $130,954.
have yet to receive the surgery bill.
straight back worth every penny.

santa monica = bliss

i'm staying in my friend conrad's santa monica apartment as we get ready for alex's spine surgery. it is heaven to be in southern california. even S. (my foster daughter) who has lived in new york since age five commented on how happy everyone seems. its true. people are friendly at the car rental agency, the grocery store, the bank and coffee shop. plus i have amazing friends here. i can't wait to get out of ithaca!

summer boom-air

geez, whatta summer. uncle mel dies. alex needs spine surgery. my father loves to call me when he is either drunk or manic. i am failing stats. a new foster child moves in. alex has a terrible drug reaction the same day the dog throws up everywhere. and to top it off, it is so ding-dang hot, that i feel like a walking swamp... the good news is my complexion will be oh so dewy, soft.

Uncle Mel

is my favorite person -- ever! He always has some witty thing to say, like being able to sing "Ding dong the wicked witch is dead" from the Wizard of Oz movie at just the right moment. Or mimic Scooby Doo's "huh?" when he doesn't understand the instructions I gave him. He's the guy, who when was asked if he wanted to spend three weeks camping across the country, looked at me and said "The only sleeping bag I want is the one in a tent that says Four Seasons." When my six year old daughter was crying hysterically because she broke a small work of art on display in his gallery, he just said "we cry about people, not things" and patted her head gently, knowing full well that he would be purchasing a new, broken piece for his permanent collection from the artist.

Uncle Mel, in a cruel joke, has leukemia. He is 46.
He isn't doing so well after chemo round number three.

Please think good thoughts about Mel. The universe needs more Mels.

name that sound

does anyone know the name of the sound that happens when you rub against leather or balloons, or slide on an air mattress?

let me tell you what a fabulous girl i have

okay this ranks up there in the top five most embarrassing moments of my life

my daughter is about to graduate from high school. she and many of her classmates have been working on yearlong projects. for five months the kids take english class. the other five months they do a project which involves intensive journal and research writing. at the end of the term, the teacher, two students, a mentor and community member evaluate the progress and project.

because i once took dance, and my mother, a dance critic, has dragged me around the globe seeing hundreds of performances, i was good candidate to be the community evaluator and watch Alice's project, which was trying to choreograph and perform a dance in the style of modern dance pioneer, Martha Graham. Alice never heard of Martha prior to this year.

of course, i assumed Alice's work would be crap, because 99 percent of all dance is (a few notable exceptions: Pina Bausch, Matthew Bourne, and Bruce Woods). but to my amazement, it was spectacular, especially for an eighteen year old!

so, what do you think happened? i started bawling when i had to evaluate it. this in front of forty people.
i think i was overcome by emotion by seeing a teenager have so much raw potential and talent. it was humbling.

did my daughter stomp her feet and die of embarrassment with her blubbering, sniffling fool for a mother? she just rolled her eyes, resigned to fate, that this is just another of those classic justine moments.

i am so lucky to be loved as is.

Creative Writing class

Wow!!!!!!!!

I love Creative Writing! No more words "the discursive trajectory of the pantopticon subjective using Marxist notions of value." Academic writing be gone!

For one, the professor (the published author Helena Viramontes) is exceptional. She really brings out your best, or at least the will to do your best.

She has also exposed me to two fantastic books: Bird by Bird by Anne Lamott (which is about how to write) and Lynda Barry's One Hundred Demons, which is so funnyslashpainfulslashbrilliant that you can't put the book down. I have learned that writing is about telling the truth. Explaining understanding as you see it.

Anyway. Got a short story in the works. 21 pages so far. About the effects of using people and being used: Hello Mr. Ouchie.

last day before summer skool starts... i can hardly find the energy to steep a cup of green tea.

there are so many iddly, biddly things begging for my attention: wash the pile of rags, weed the front lawn, wipe the fingerprints from the door windows, change the sheets, throw away the junk food wrappers and newspapers in the backseat of the car, pay bills, file the infinite number of papers scattered on the floor, take out the recyclables, fold the clothes, etc. etc.

breathe. breathe. breathe.

hope that financial aid will post soon. rent is due tomorrow.

drum roll

wah. i got cum laude. a year of my life to write a 93 page honors thesis. straight A's. but my thesis was deemed well written but "not theoretically grounded enough." so just cum laude. i know. i know. complaining is bratty. be thankful. and when i realize i did all this while being a single parent of a special needs kid. plus18 months of being a foster parent of another special needs kid. without resources or any network of friends to pitch in. and then cum laude is pretty dang impressive. and now i am not being bratty, i am being proud. which is equally obnoxious. so i will just put on my honor cords and smile and say nada.

the good news

today i realized that being good, or wonderful, or fabulous

takes hundreds of thousands of little steps

and it gets depressing when you fail once or twice

and then you think i can never...ever... do it

and you give up and stay fat or have an explosive temper or talk too much

so the trick is to make allowances for many f*ups and keep going forward

exams are done

dancing queen1
Originally uploaded by thejustini.

and i can now do the happy dance

countdown until saturday

Global Cities: 20 page paper on Johannesburg and housing (check)
Anthropology thesis: 93 pages (check)
Social Psychology: brutal final (check)
Politics, Planning and Power: 20 page paper due Friday
GIS Presentation and Paper: 20 page paper plus maps plus powerpoint due Saturday

consumed: two pounds of dark roast espresso coffee so far. two reams of paper (recycled at least)

three tantrums. forgot to change clothes twice in the last two weeks.

prize: reading ordinary books. no academic tomes until summer!

See more progress on: Get through finals without having a nervous breakdown

did i mention

that the very important speaker was gorgeous, too?

Not so bright

When you go to anthropology shindigs, it is best not to find the sexual innuendo in the very important guest speaker's comments. i thought when he was talking about 14" he meant penis size, not vinyl records. i made him blush. and i have to apply to his grad school next year.

this has to be the worst semester ever.

okay. i am happy i have my thesis done. that makes me happy.

social psych has been intellectually stimulating but testing hell.

but the comments from the urban studies professor and TA have been shameful.
this TA wrote that my not making the changes he suggested meant that i have no respect for his intellect... how does MY paper on housing in Johannesburg and the persistent troubles of apartheid make a statement about his intellect? diva city.

cold

it is 37 degrees outside. farenheit. brr.

this morning alex made pumpkin pancakes. delicious.

in the background is the new u2 album: how to dismantle an atomic bomb.

how does one dismantle an atomic mom?

last night there was a wild flirtation going on with a gay man meaning he was flirtatious with me.
what does that mean? why is it the only time i get close to romance in ith-ick-ugh is when it is with a GAY man... hey suus.

fun with the camera

flashgirl
Originally uploaded by thejustini.