11 December 2008
Fa ra ra ra ra
30 November 2008
Stuff Jen Likes III
29 November 2008
Winter Park Farmers Market
28 November 2008
All I Want for Christmas
27 November 2008
Happy Thanksgiving!
22 November 2008
Restaurant Review
15 November 2008
Standardizations
13 November 2008
Playbill
Jennifer (Witch 1). Jennifer is happy to be appearing on stage again, this time in The Complete Works of William Shakespeare, Abridged. Previously cast in motherly roles, she plays one of Macbeth's witches - a role for which she says teaching has prepared her. Favorite roles include Debbie in American Beauty, Messenger in The Wiz, and orchestral credits in Lessons and Carols. Love and kisses to her adoring public!
12 November 2008
05 November 2008
On the Nature of Incremental Change
I don't mean for this post to come across as a lament of the aging process - I don't have a problem with growing older. What's interesting is my tendency to not age-progress individuals, and how surprised I am when I see that they're adults now. It's clearly a function of how often I see someone. Incremental change on the order of days or months is significantly smaller (and less noticeable) than that on the scale of years, even decades.
The shift of plates goes unnoticed until a dramatic event.There's another strange time phenomenon going on in my head. I occasionally manage to neglect a four-year chunk of my life, the California Years. From time to time, I simply forget we lived there. I remember the people and the places, but sometimes, when I'm going through my mental timeline, I find I just close the gap between college and Florida. This happened most noticeably the year I spent advising college-bound high-school seniors. The more I talked about college and thought about what it was like to go off to college, the time gap between now and then started to shrink; when I caught myself, it was with marvel that there was a chunk of four years (and even a couple years here) that I just glazed right over as though they were insignificant. Which they weren't.
Time is a transparent film, stretching and shrinking.I was asked recently, on the occasion of my ninth wedding anniversary, how my marriage had changed over time. It was a more difficult question than I expected it to be. I know there has been change, but I can't articulate it, and I certainly can't divorce it from our own individual changes. It's a kind of relative-motion frame-of-reference problem, because our relationships evolve as we are changing, too.
A person walks at a speed of 2 m/s relative to a moving sidewalk. If the sidewalk is moving at 3 m/s relative to the ground, what is the person's velocity relative to an outside observer?I couldn't answer her - there seem to be too many variables to come up with a meaningful answer, relative to an outside observer.
03 November 2008
Typecast
ISFJs have a rich inner world that is not usually obvious to observers. They constantly take in information about people and situations that is personally important to them, and store it away. This tremendous store of information is usually startlingly accurate, because the ISFJ has an exceptional memory about things that are important to their value systems.
ISFJs have a very clear idea of the way things should be, which they strive to attain. They value security and kindness, and respect traditions and laws. They tend to believe that existing systems are there because they work. Therefore, they're not likely to buy into doing things in a new way, unless they're shown in a concrete way why its better than the established method.
The ISFJ has an extremely well-developed sense of space, function, and aesthetic appeal. For that reason, they're likely to have beautifully furnished, functional homes. They make extremely good interior decorators. This special ability, combined with their sensitivity to other's feelings and desires, makes them very likely to be great gift-givers - finding the right gift which will be truly appreciated by the recipient.
02 November 2008
Falling Back
01 November 2008
On Keeping a Notebook
I keep staring at things, willing myself to remember them: the faded blue dressing gown that Sheba is always leaving draped across the sofa; the antique Moroccan tiles in the kitchen; the velvet-clad hangers in the closets. Of course, memory is not really as obedient a faculty as that. You can't consciously decide what is going to adhere. Certain things may strike you at the time as memorable, but memory only laughs at your presumption. 'Oh, I'm never going to forget this,' you say to yourself when you visit the Sacre-Coeur at sunset. And years later, when you try to summon up an image of the Sacre-Coeur, it's as cold an abstract as if you'd only ever seen it on a postcard. If anything unlocks the memory of this house for me, years from now, it will be something - some tiny, atmospheric fragment - of which I'm not even aware at the moment. I know this, and yet I still persist in making my little inventory, trying to nail down my recollections.
29 October 2008
Bookstravaganza
20 October 2008
Shifting Sand
So I can do the things I should despise
And every day I am swayed
By whatever is on my mind
I hear it all depends on my faith
So I'm feeling precarious
The only problem I have with these mysteries
Is they're so mysterious
And like a consumer I've been thinking
If I could just get a bit more
More than my 15 minutes of faith,
Then I'd be secure
My faith is like shifting sand
Changed by every wave
My faith is like shifting sand
So I stand on grace
I've begged you for some proof
For my Thomas eyes to see
A slithering staff, a leprous hand
And lions resting lazily
A glimpse of your back-side glory
And this soaked altar going ablaze
But you know I've seen so much
I explained it away
My faith is like shifting sand
Changed by every wave
My faith is like shifting sand
So I stand on grace
Waters rose as my doubts reigned
My sand-castle faith, it slipped away
Found myself standing on your grace
It'd been there all the time
My faith is like shifting sand
Changed by every wave
My faith is like shifting sand
So I stand on grace
13 October 2008
Weekend Project
11 October 2008
Sunflowers
05 October 2008
My Latest Project
01 October 2008
Stuff Jen Likes II
29 September 2008
Mothers and Sons
20 September 2008
Gone Bananas
Mom's Banana Bread1 1/2 c. sugar1/2 c. unsalted butter, softened2 eggs, beaten4 T. sour milk*1 t. baking soda2 c. flour1 c. mashed banana (2 bananas) - must be exceedingly ripe1 t. vanilla1/4 t. saltCombine butter and sugar, then mix in eggs, milk, and vanilla. Add bananas, soda, flour, and salt. Pour into greased loaf pan(s) and bake at 350 degF until dark golden on top and a toothpick inserted in the center comes out clean.* Add a splash of vinegar to 4T. milk. Stir, and set aside for 10 min to thicken.