Thursday, May 28, 2009
Memorial Day
I woke up at 3:30 in the morning on Monday to the loudest noise I've ever heard in my life. I often wake up in the middle of the night, heart pounding wildly, with this same thought, "it's Judgment Day," only to realize that it was a motorcycle roaring by 19 flights below, or an angry cab driver laying on his horn. This time was different. The sound was a loud crack that echoed through the streets of the upper east side. My immediate thought, after "Judgement Day," was "that was the loudest thunder crack I've ever heard. Surely the entire City will be talking about this tomorrow." I did hear multiple sirens going off, but I assumed the noise had set off every car alarm in the street. The following morning my roommate, who is an extremely deep sleeper and didn't even stir at the deafening clamor, came in from an errand to report that it wasn't a thunder clap i heard, but in fact, it was a bomb that exploded on the front stoop of our local Starbucks two blocks down. It was a homemade bomb engineered from a water bottle. Fortunately, it only shattered the windows of the Starbucks, and yet, it caused enough racket to wake up the neighborhood, at least, everyone but my heavy-sleeping roommate! Way to ring in the holiday, huh?
Monday, February 16, 2009
Feb 16, 2009
It’s 2:30 in the afternoon and I am still in my pajamas and slippers. Amos Lee is crooning in the background, contributing to this contented ambiance. Feels down-right good to have nothing to do.
I spent the morning with my roommate Angeline, lounging on my bed with Bibles open, sipping coffee and discussing the meaning behind Jesus’ words in Matthew. I love my Canadian roomie and all her intricate and challenging questions about the Word. She has only been a believer for about three years, since she started attending Apostles, and the presence of Christ radiates through her. I only hope that we will have more moments like these. It is all too easy to become co-habitators in this small apartment, when we should be co-laborers, seeking the Lord together on how we can be using our position to reach others in our building, especially the one we live with.
I’ve lived with these girls for nearly two years now. I can’t believe it’s been that long; and I still have yet to replace the pushpins holding my curtains up, with a proper curtain rod, or to purchase a real bedside lamp. Maybe subconsciously I’ve held off from completely moving in for fear that I will have permanently made NYC my home. I still have a Texas driver’s license and Austin area code, for goodness sakes. I have my freak outs, where I wake up in the middle of the night, paralyzed with the thought that I may never live near my family again, or have a front yard with grass, or the option of literal peace and quiet- all luxuries that don’t exist in and Upper East side, where thousands of people live on top of each other. According to the world’s standards, I’m certifiably insane to be living below the poverty line, when I would be enjoying the benefits of a comfortable surplus in a spacious Austin apartment. I’ll admit, I feel sick when I hear how much I’m paying for my apartment per month, compared to anywhere else in the country. However, these freak outs have become few and far between, as I’ve come to consider “home” to be wherever Jesus is. He is in the City. He loves the City. So, I’ll be right here, following so close to Him that I’ve got His dust all over me.
I spent the morning with my roommate Angeline, lounging on my bed with Bibles open, sipping coffee and discussing the meaning behind Jesus’ words in Matthew. I love my Canadian roomie and all her intricate and challenging questions about the Word. She has only been a believer for about three years, since she started attending Apostles, and the presence of Christ radiates through her. I only hope that we will have more moments like these. It is all too easy to become co-habitators in this small apartment, when we should be co-laborers, seeking the Lord together on how we can be using our position to reach others in our building, especially the one we live with.
I’ve lived with these girls for nearly two years now. I can’t believe it’s been that long; and I still have yet to replace the pushpins holding my curtains up, with a proper curtain rod, or to purchase a real bedside lamp. Maybe subconsciously I’ve held off from completely moving in for fear that I will have permanently made NYC my home. I still have a Texas driver’s license and Austin area code, for goodness sakes. I have my freak outs, where I wake up in the middle of the night, paralyzed with the thought that I may never live near my family again, or have a front yard with grass, or the option of literal peace and quiet- all luxuries that don’t exist in and Upper East side, where thousands of people live on top of each other. According to the world’s standards, I’m certifiably insane to be living below the poverty line, when I would be enjoying the benefits of a comfortable surplus in a spacious Austin apartment. I’ll admit, I feel sick when I hear how much I’m paying for my apartment per month, compared to anywhere else in the country. However, these freak outs have become few and far between, as I’ve come to consider “home” to be wherever Jesus is. He is in the City. He loves the City. So, I’ll be right here, following so close to Him that I’ve got His dust all over me.
Saturday, January 31, 2009
Winter Wonderland
This is my third winter in New York and most definitely the coldest. I went for a 5 mile run with my running club this morning and it took me two hours to defrost when I got back. Fortunately, my good friend Angela made me a deer corn bag that you just pop in the microwave for a couple minutes, and you’ve got a homemade heating pad that smells like fresh cornbread. It has kept my feet nice and toasty at night, so I’d like to give a big shout-out to Ange for the thoughtful (and useful) gift.
One perk about a colder winter is that we’ve had a lot more snow than I’ve seen in the past two. It snowed all day on MLK day and I couldn’t wait to get out in it. So, I suited up in my under armor, laced up my running shoes and headed out to Central Park, where the snow is always prettiest. I had never run in snow before. (Well, I take that back, I was insane enough to run in the Ted Corbit race right before Christmas, when it was under 20 degrees with slushy snow all over the ground. I couldn’t feel my feet at all for most of the race, so it seemed like I was hovering.) But, I’d never actually run with snow falling from the sky. It was beautiful. It felt like I had stepped out of a giant wardrobe, right smack into Narnia. The streetlamps on the side of the road helped with this image, as well. As I ran, the snowflakes clung to my eyelashes and floated into my mouth and nose, and when I ran downhill, the snowflakes seemed to pause in mid air so I could race through them as if I was in a video game. It was exhilarating for the first 4.5 miles, but then I started to get pretty wet as the snow fell harder and began to stick to the ground. I think I was a little too ambitious to try to run 6 miles in the snow, I knew I was pretty sure I could survive one more mile.
As I kicked into the last mile, my shoes starting to slosh by now, I tried to clear out my nose (because it tends to run when it’s cold), and so began one of my annoying nose bleeds. I looked down to see my sweatshirt stained with red splotches. Dangit! I slowed to a walk, plugged my nose with my glove and tried my best to look indiscrete as I meandered through the tourists and joggers with my head down. I was bleeding so much, though, that I had no choice but to bend down and clean my gloves off in the snow. To put it bluntly, it looked like I’d committed a serious crime. After several minutes, the bleeding finally quit and I was able to jog the rest of the way home, but not without receiving some concerned/disgusted stares. I was a sight to behold, wet, bloody, and frozen to the bone. So, what initially began as a magical winter wonderland run, ended up looking more like a crime scene from CSI.
One perk about a colder winter is that we’ve had a lot more snow than I’ve seen in the past two. It snowed all day on MLK day and I couldn’t wait to get out in it. So, I suited up in my under armor, laced up my running shoes and headed out to Central Park, where the snow is always prettiest. I had never run in snow before. (Well, I take that back, I was insane enough to run in the Ted Corbit race right before Christmas, when it was under 20 degrees with slushy snow all over the ground. I couldn’t feel my feet at all for most of the race, so it seemed like I was hovering.) But, I’d never actually run with snow falling from the sky. It was beautiful. It felt like I had stepped out of a giant wardrobe, right smack into Narnia. The streetlamps on the side of the road helped with this image, as well. As I ran, the snowflakes clung to my eyelashes and floated into my mouth and nose, and when I ran downhill, the snowflakes seemed to pause in mid air so I could race through them as if I was in a video game. It was exhilarating for the first 4.5 miles, but then I started to get pretty wet as the snow fell harder and began to stick to the ground. I think I was a little too ambitious to try to run 6 miles in the snow, I knew I was pretty sure I could survive one more mile.
As I kicked into the last mile, my shoes starting to slosh by now, I tried to clear out my nose (because it tends to run when it’s cold), and so began one of my annoying nose bleeds. I looked down to see my sweatshirt stained with red splotches. Dangit! I slowed to a walk, plugged my nose with my glove and tried my best to look indiscrete as I meandered through the tourists and joggers with my head down. I was bleeding so much, though, that I had no choice but to bend down and clean my gloves off in the snow. To put it bluntly, it looked like I’d committed a serious crime. After several minutes, the bleeding finally quit and I was able to jog the rest of the way home, but not without receiving some concerned/disgusted stares. I was a sight to behold, wet, bloody, and frozen to the bone. So, what initially began as a magical winter wonderland run, ended up looking more like a crime scene from CSI.
Monday, January 5, 2009
Supply & Demand
It has come to my attention that there are select people who actually read this blog of mine and follow it. I'll admit, I'm flattered with this new awareness of demand, but a little nervous. I have found that it is easy to be open and vulnerable when posting articles about my life, while forgetting that it is conveniently accessible to the inexhaustible internet public. I'm not saying that I will proceed with caution, but with a more acute sense that I have an audience. I hate to disappoint, so I will endeavor to be more consistent with my posts. With that said, I should probably make a few disclaimers. I only pretend (and dream) to be a writer, so please don't expect any masterpieces like the great Andrew Shepherd, but in the case that I somehow produce something publish-worthy, I will soon be creating a copyright page and hopefully ward off any crazies that would want to steal my shoddy posts or pictures. Also, know that everything I post is an impulsive emanation from some sort of obligatory muse that appears at the most unexpected moments, so don't expect congruency. But, if you've been keeping up with this so-called "blog," then you know that. You must also take into account that I am a word-nerd. I love words. I may not know many, but I like to try to use new ones when possible. The English language is a lost art that I want to honor and hopefully contribute to. Please don't hesitate to let me know if I misuse any. I want to be an candid word-user.
I think this about sums it up. Thank you for reading my blog. I simply hope that it amuses you. I'm going to try not to take myself too seriously, and then maybe I would write updates more often. Time will tell...
I think this about sums it up. Thank you for reading my blog. I simply hope that it amuses you. I'm going to try not to take myself too seriously, and then maybe I would write updates more often. Time will tell...
Saturday, August 9, 2008
Run, Julia, Run!
I have to memorialize this day because I may never see one like it again. It’s August now, which is supposed to be the hottest month of the year in NYC. But, the high today is 79. The sun is out; there are just enough puffy clouds in the sky, and the perfect breeze. I could not wait to get outside this morning and I can’t stop gushing about how magnificent a day it is and how grateful I am to be living in it.
To my surprise, and I’m sure, many of yours, I have become a runner. I’m not sure exactly when this title became appropriate for me. Maybe it was last Halloween when I ran 6 miles for the first time. Or it could have been when I got my first set of Under Armour gear to brave the winter months. It quite possibly might have been when I started training for a half marathon that I never got to do. I don’t really care when it happened; I just care about the fact that my legs move fast enough to do it, and that I actually enjoy it. Over the course of my short running history, I have gained a tremendous appreciation for the sport/discipline. For one thing, it’s free exercise. Seemed like the best alternative when I no longer could afford a gym membership. Now, I would never go back. I’m spoiled by the outdoors and cringe at the thought of jogging on moving rubber that takes me nowhere.
I live a mere 4 avenues from Central Park, a place that has become a sanctuary for me; I think of it fondly, like a friend. It sounds cheesy, but it’s true. I’m certain many New Yorkers feel the same way. It’s one of the few places to escape from the frantic noise and hustle of the City. You have to know just the right times to go, though, and the right areas to avoid if you want to steer clear of meandering, camera-happy tourists. Once you’ve got that down, the park becomes yours.
I’ve learned to appreciate the variety that the park has to offer. You can run around the entire park, which is 6 miles, or you can break it off into 5 or 4 miles, depending on your mood or whether you feel like you have the strength to take on the Great Hill. For a shorter, flatter loop, I head to the reservoir, which is 1 and half miles around. It’s completely manmade, but absolutely beautiful. The perfect time to run there is at sunset, when the sun is low enough to create a shadow of the buildings on the water.
Running has also provided an excellent outlet for fellowship. I often run with a running group started by women in my church. We run the reservoir on Monday nights and then head back to one of our apartments to cook dinner. The group has become more missional over time as we meet fellow runners in our workplaces.
Lately, the Lord has been urging me to get out and meet more New Yorkers. Working in ministry, I fear becoming too comfortable in my church community that I forget how to be a light of the world, a city on a hill. We’ve been going through the book of Colossians in our Worship Services and Community Groups, and discussing what it means to be subversive in our deteriorating society that easily lures us into pledging allegiance to the fleeting pleasures of the American Dream. As I’ve been praying about what it looks like to be subversive in my life in the City (which is interesting, considering I’m still trying to figure out who I am in this City), it all boils down to speed.
The speed of New York is 100 miles an hour, and it never lets up. It’s an “every man for himself” kind of world. I hate to say that over time I've become hardened to it. I find myself thinking, “Am I going to make it through the turnstile in time to get on the train if I help this woman carry her stroller down the subway steps?” and “this guy in front of me is walking so slow, doesn’t he know people are in a hurry?” I’m tired of being in such a hurry that I forget that I’m surrounded by people of all nationalities and languages, whom God has created in His image, and loves. The Lord has called me to be subversive by slowing down, by being an inch worm in a swarm of centipedes. I’m determined to get out and spend time with people, and there’s no better way that I can think of doing that, then to meet people in their sanctuary, Central Park.
There is a store a few blocks from my apartment called the Super Runner Store. Just walking into this place makes you feel super cool. They have a running club that meets on Saturday and Sunday mornings and if you run ten runs with them (and you don’t even have to finish with them), you get a free pair of running shoes of your choice. Talk about a deal! Although that’s a great perk, I knew it was also the way for me to meet some other runners. I finally mustered the courage to give it a shot this morning. I’d say about 15 people came. We ended up dispersing into a few groups depending on pace and distance. I ran with a group of 5, and had such a blast talking with them and hearing about what they do and where they’re from. The amazing uncharacteristic weather had us all in a peppy mood, so the 6 miles just flew by! When we finished, we agreed that we made a good little group and should run together more often, so we high-fived and traded email addresses. I was in such a good mood after that, and so overwhelmed by the gift of such an awesome day, that I felt like I could keep running forever. Well, I didn’t run forever, but I opted for 3 more miles. That means that this day makes history for another reason, I’ve never run that far before.
To my surprise, and I’m sure, many of yours, I have become a runner. I’m not sure exactly when this title became appropriate for me. Maybe it was last Halloween when I ran 6 miles for the first time. Or it could have been when I got my first set of Under Armour gear to brave the winter months. It quite possibly might have been when I started training for a half marathon that I never got to do. I don’t really care when it happened; I just care about the fact that my legs move fast enough to do it, and that I actually enjoy it. Over the course of my short running history, I have gained a tremendous appreciation for the sport/discipline. For one thing, it’s free exercise. Seemed like the best alternative when I no longer could afford a gym membership. Now, I would never go back. I’m spoiled by the outdoors and cringe at the thought of jogging on moving rubber that takes me nowhere.
I live a mere 4 avenues from Central Park, a place that has become a sanctuary for me; I think of it fondly, like a friend. It sounds cheesy, but it’s true. I’m certain many New Yorkers feel the same way. It’s one of the few places to escape from the frantic noise and hustle of the City. You have to know just the right times to go, though, and the right areas to avoid if you want to steer clear of meandering, camera-happy tourists. Once you’ve got that down, the park becomes yours.
I’ve learned to appreciate the variety that the park has to offer. You can run around the entire park, which is 6 miles, or you can break it off into 5 or 4 miles, depending on your mood or whether you feel like you have the strength to take on the Great Hill. For a shorter, flatter loop, I head to the reservoir, which is 1 and half miles around. It’s completely manmade, but absolutely beautiful. The perfect time to run there is at sunset, when the sun is low enough to create a shadow of the buildings on the water.
Running has also provided an excellent outlet for fellowship. I often run with a running group started by women in my church. We run the reservoir on Monday nights and then head back to one of our apartments to cook dinner. The group has become more missional over time as we meet fellow runners in our workplaces.
Lately, the Lord has been urging me to get out and meet more New Yorkers. Working in ministry, I fear becoming too comfortable in my church community that I forget how to be a light of the world, a city on a hill. We’ve been going through the book of Colossians in our Worship Services and Community Groups, and discussing what it means to be subversive in our deteriorating society that easily lures us into pledging allegiance to the fleeting pleasures of the American Dream. As I’ve been praying about what it looks like to be subversive in my life in the City (which is interesting, considering I’m still trying to figure out who I am in this City), it all boils down to speed.
The speed of New York is 100 miles an hour, and it never lets up. It’s an “every man for himself” kind of world. I hate to say that over time I've become hardened to it. I find myself thinking, “Am I going to make it through the turnstile in time to get on the train if I help this woman carry her stroller down the subway steps?” and “this guy in front of me is walking so slow, doesn’t he know people are in a hurry?” I’m tired of being in such a hurry that I forget that I’m surrounded by people of all nationalities and languages, whom God has created in His image, and loves. The Lord has called me to be subversive by slowing down, by being an inch worm in a swarm of centipedes. I’m determined to get out and spend time with people, and there’s no better way that I can think of doing that, then to meet people in their sanctuary, Central Park.
There is a store a few blocks from my apartment called the Super Runner Store. Just walking into this place makes you feel super cool. They have a running club that meets on Saturday and Sunday mornings and if you run ten runs with them (and you don’t even have to finish with them), you get a free pair of running shoes of your choice. Talk about a deal! Although that’s a great perk, I knew it was also the way for me to meet some other runners. I finally mustered the courage to give it a shot this morning. I’d say about 15 people came. We ended up dispersing into a few groups depending on pace and distance. I ran with a group of 5, and had such a blast talking with them and hearing about what they do and where they’re from. The amazing uncharacteristic weather had us all in a peppy mood, so the 6 miles just flew by! When we finished, we agreed that we made a good little group and should run together more often, so we high-fived and traded email addresses. I was in such a good mood after that, and so overwhelmed by the gift of such an awesome day, that I felt like I could keep running forever. Well, I didn’t run forever, but I opted for 3 more miles. That means that this day makes history for another reason, I’ve never run that far before.
Saturday, May 31, 2008
carry
carry me away
that I may disappear
even if just for a moment
into the blissful beauty of
the Things that are to come
give me a glimpse of the Surety
and let Him fix His eyes
even if just for a moment
on my broken heart
still mending its way to full
fill my lungs
that I may breathe easy
even if just for a moment
with the sweet Air that satisfies
from Your words exhaled
tell me one small secret
that only angels know
even if just for a moment
a tiny Mystery revealed
to add to the vast yet untold
clothe me in your Color
an indescribable shade of You
even if just for a moment
my temple arrayed
in this resplendent Love
then carry me back
that I may patiently endure
for I hope is just a moment
till time is complete
and Forever can begin
julia
that I may disappear
even if just for a moment
into the blissful beauty of
the Things that are to come
give me a glimpse of the Surety
and let Him fix His eyes
even if just for a moment
on my broken heart
still mending its way to full
fill my lungs
that I may breathe easy
even if just for a moment
with the sweet Air that satisfies
from Your words exhaled
tell me one small secret
that only angels know
even if just for a moment
a tiny Mystery revealed
to add to the vast yet untold
clothe me in your Color
an indescribable shade of You
even if just for a moment
my temple arrayed
in this resplendent Love
then carry me back
that I may patiently endure
for I hope is just a moment
till time is complete
and Forever can begin
julia
Monday, January 21, 2008
west side extraveganza
today my girlfriends and i decided to seize every minute of the day off from work, so we ventured to the west side for an early 9am breakfast of bagels and coffee. h&h bagels, supposedly the "best bagels" in nyc. that's debatable.
for one thing, when i asked the cashier for an everything bagel with egg and cheese, she responded,
"we don't do dat."
so, i said, "ok. how about a cinnamon-raisin bagel with plain cream cheese?"
"you getcha own tub'a cream cheese from da fridge ova daya."
"alright, well may i just have it toasted then?"
"we don't do dat neitha."
just a bagel in a bag. best bagel in nyc.
after smuggling our bagels into starbucks (since h&h had no seating), we headed to the movie theatre on 68th and broadway for a matinee!!!! priced flick. only $6, what a steal. we decided on 27 dresses, which i was curious to see since i am a mere 20 dresses away from being Katherine Heigl.
with 9 of us there, we were thoroughly entertained by each other as much as the movie. i even teared up a little at the end. it definitely satisfied the hankering for a quality rom-com. in a nut-shell, it was how to lose a guy in ten days, never been kissed, the wedding planner, runaway bride, and my best friend's wedding, rolled up into one nice little package of chick-flickyness. hollywood recycling, as i like to call it.
after the movie, some of us decided we enjoyed the sunny 20 degree weather, so we meandered down broadway to see what else the west side had to offer us. i was wearing a hat with a small brim, to keep the biting wind out of my ears, as well as to hide my 3-day unwashed hair. i had it so low on my forehead, that my vision of things ahead of me was slightly inhibited. i realized the danger in this the instant i had a head-on collision with a random pole. the thung of my skull hitting metal caught the attention of my friends and they hit the ground laughing before i even had the chance to register what had happened. it was pure, unadulterated slapstick.
we must of been rolling on the filthy sidewalk with tears streaming down our eyes for at least a couple minutes, when we were interrupted by a man's voice behind us.
"everything alright here, ladies?"
we looked up to see a police officer cowering over us.
"is there a party going on here that you didn't invite me to?" he said.
no, we say, and explain to him that i just ran smack-dab into a pole.
"you're sh--ing me," he said.
"nope," i said as we picked ourselves up off the ground, "i'm sorry we didn't invite you to our party here, officer lopez, have a nice day."
there is one thing we all agreed on as we walked away, running into things, tripping, and falling down, is always funny.
i won't forget this MLK day, and i have the knot on my head to remind me.
for one thing, when i asked the cashier for an everything bagel with egg and cheese, she responded,
"we don't do dat."
so, i said, "ok. how about a cinnamon-raisin bagel with plain cream cheese?"
"you getcha own tub'a cream cheese from da fridge ova daya."
"alright, well may i just have it toasted then?"
"we don't do dat neitha."
just a bagel in a bag. best bagel in nyc.
after smuggling our bagels into starbucks (since h&h had no seating), we headed to the movie theatre on 68th and broadway for a matinee!!!! priced flick. only $6, what a steal. we decided on 27 dresses, which i was curious to see since i am a mere 20 dresses away from being Katherine Heigl.
with 9 of us there, we were thoroughly entertained by each other as much as the movie. i even teared up a little at the end. it definitely satisfied the hankering for a quality rom-com. in a nut-shell, it was how to lose a guy in ten days, never been kissed, the wedding planner, runaway bride, and my best friend's wedding, rolled up into one nice little package of chick-flickyness. hollywood recycling, as i like to call it.
after the movie, some of us decided we enjoyed the sunny 20 degree weather, so we meandered down broadway to see what else the west side had to offer us. i was wearing a hat with a small brim, to keep the biting wind out of my ears, as well as to hide my 3-day unwashed hair. i had it so low on my forehead, that my vision of things ahead of me was slightly inhibited. i realized the danger in this the instant i had a head-on collision with a random pole. the thung of my skull hitting metal caught the attention of my friends and they hit the ground laughing before i even had the chance to register what had happened. it was pure, unadulterated slapstick.
we must of been rolling on the filthy sidewalk with tears streaming down our eyes for at least a couple minutes, when we were interrupted by a man's voice behind us.
"everything alright here, ladies?"
we looked up to see a police officer cowering over us.
"is there a party going on here that you didn't invite me to?" he said.
no, we say, and explain to him that i just ran smack-dab into a pole.
"you're sh--ing me," he said.
"nope," i said as we picked ourselves up off the ground, "i'm sorry we didn't invite you to our party here, officer lopez, have a nice day."
there is one thing we all agreed on as we walked away, running into things, tripping, and falling down, is always funny.
i won't forget this MLK day, and i have the knot on my head to remind me.
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