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Books Julia

A good book

I just finished reading a book about a young girl whose grandmother dies and leaves the girl to find out about her life before she was a grandmother; and to learn the lesson of how this girl and her mother and grandmother are connected to the people who live in their 6 flat building. The way this kid (she’s 7) who’s a wise “old soul” does this is through realizing that the fairy tales her grandmother told her growing up had elements of truth to them. Left for her to decode on her own. It was reminiscent of the movie Big Fish, if you’ve seen that, where the dad tells fantastical stories that don’t turn out to be totally untrue. This kid is hilarious and way smarter than other kids her age and she gets picked on for it. Her grandmother used their stories so she’d have an escape and took her to imaginary lands where she could be the hero.

This book about the little girl and her grandma was about loss and love, how people are rooting for you when you don’t even know it, and it even tied in some magic and love for Harry Potter. When the dog dies, who from the girl’s vantage point is as big as a human, I cried so hard I couldn’t breathe. Not because I’m an animal lover but because it was the moment in the book when the girl realizes how much people (and not people) are trying to protect her despite their own lives they are trying to live. She learns that she isn’t the only one reeling from the loss of her grandmother, that other people knew her grandmother from another time and grieve her too. Like how my mom’s college roommate walks in a 5k for breast cancer every year with her daughter in memory of my mom, but from a time before my mom was a mom, and when she meant so much to this woman as a roommate and a friend. This book reminded you you of the power of a good story – both through the tales the grandmother created for her granddaughter and through the story of the girl finding truth in them.

go read: My Grandmother Asked Me To Tell You She’s Sorry.

 

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Julia

Thinking through a project

Mulling over an idea isn’t inherently bad. But letting an idea or a plan sit alone for too long may make you resent it, and vise versa. So if you’ve got something that you think will work, or will make you happy to try (even if it fails) but you feel underqualified…here’s what you can try,

1. write the idea down. Get specific about where it would be and how big and how much (based on averages in that market)

2. Look online for associations or groups that exist solely for the purpose of helping people like you with this plan

3. When you find that association or organization (and you will) ask them to send you any manuals, laws, rules, assistance they can.

4. Don’t wimp out on #3. Because if  there is one thing people love to do, its talk all day about the thing they do/love/promote.

5. Carve out time from your day job and your other obligations to go through what was sent to you. And figure out how much applies to you specifically and your plan

6. Add this to your written down notes and idea.

7. To anyone who has ever been scared by a dream or a hope or an idea, you know that the 6 steps above are not easy to do and they don’t come all at once. So take a second and be proud of actually thinking you can do something new, and of the learning you did.

The next list of hurtles will involve more research, learning how to wrie your plan, writing it, and creating a budget.

Categories
Julia

Acceptance

Just last night I was thinking about how the “if it turns out to be something” and “if it’s anything you’ve caught it early” I’ve been hearing from the doctors and friends/family, means something. It means I might be walking around with a 1cm circle of cancer in my right breast. Cancer. That feels like it should be a foreign word to me but its sickly familiar and almost expected. I feel like I’ve crash at 100 miles an hour into the legacy I was pretending I’d out run. Because that’s what cancer is to the women in my family. An unfortunate legacy that means my grandma died young, way before her kids were grown; and it means my mom died young, so young. It’s a harsh moment to be confronted with. My incredulous self at 18 and 20 and 21 was adamant and full of pride that I was going to break that dreadful chain. I was proud and loud and unafraid.

One of my favorite quotes by an author I love is about acceptance, and she says “Sometimes you’ll hold on really hard and realize there is no choice but to let go. Acceptance is a small, quiet room.” And she’s right. In this small quiet room I am letting go of my naive bravery and accepting that I am scared and accepting that being certain in the face of nothing, was never really certainty at all. Even though I am scared I am now very certain, faced with mortality and feeling the weight of my mother and her mother on my shoulders — that like them I am going to do whatever it takes. And I am not going to let my fear keep me immobile and thanks to advances in medicine, “even if it’s something”, even if it’s fucking cancer, I’m going to be okay.

 

 

Categories
Julia

Waiting Rooms

I wish that hospital waiting rooms could get their shit together. No, no one wants to casually flip through County Home or Scene Magazine while waiting. Especially waiting rooms past the first waiting rooms. Did you know that, there are waiting rooms just past the initial waiting rooms? I think unless you have been to hospital for tests before and not just to your Internist or Primary Care Physician you may not know these places exist. The second level waiting rooms really suck. Not only are the half-assed attempt a magazine selections greatly diminished but when you ask about bringing your boyfriend back with you they say no because other women have tied hospital gowns and pants on. How was this overlooked by hospital design or hospital patient experience staff? I think I hummed and drummed out the tune of Selena Gomez’s “Same Old Love” 100 times while waiting in the purgatory of second level waiting rooms. Not because I am a huge closet Selena fan (but damn that song is catchy) but because I needed  something, anything to distract myself. So, hospitals, can you please get it together? If you’re a prestigious hospital like the one I go to in downtown Chicago the jig is up. I know you have the money and the donations to make this possible. What am I looking for you may ask? Well, for starters, let the boyfriends and the husbands come back. No one cares. They are all too wrapped up in their own minds and honestly could use the distraction of either talking to their partner or of staring at attractive men from their safely secured hospital gowns. Especially since in the second tier waiting rooms you can’t have your cell phone – seriously. Since the magnets in the machines that they zap you with get messed up by cell frequency. Also, how is it that the hospital does not have a bulk subscription to the top ten men and women’s magazines for their waiting rooms? I’m sure the magazine companies, and hell, even the New York Times at this point would like the paper subscriptions from hospitals across the country. I’d also like lounge chairs, love seats and couches. Get rid of the horrible chairs. Those shit chairs can be for the front line waiting rooms. That’s it really. Maybe some Pandora station of happy music but that I could take, or leave.

You might think I am being a brat or sounding entitled, after all, not everyone has access to the top-notch hospitals and healthcare I am referencing here. However, as I also mentioned these businesses also have a lot of money and what I am suggesting would not put a dent in the resources spent on medical equipment, research and the salaries of doctors and nurses. Especially because of the greatness that is bulk purchasing and also, companies will cut deals for hospitals. Because as a healthy 28 year old woman who was sitting humming to herself in those waiting rooms, waiting to get her breast squeezed, pushed and prodded for something my MRI picked up last week, I could have used those extra touches of comfort and distraction. Especially since I didn’t know the doctors and have never had some of the procedures done before. I’ll unfortunately be back in about a week and a half for some more scary tests. I am thinking seriously about asking to leave  message for the Hospital Operations department to let them know what I think they’re lacking. One thing’s for sure, I’m bringing my own magazines this time.

 

Categories
Julia Shorts

This moment brought to you by Uber

I take way too many Uber rides. This was my thought as I hopped out of the car, a ford I think, and smelled a hint of smoke and the cold of fall in the night around me. As I unlocked the door to my building I thought about how warm my new-ish sweater is and how much I love the new boots on my feet. I bought the boots after buying a pair for my little brother, slogging out early early adulthood in New York – one for you, one for me. I rarely shop so when I wear the new stuff I like to cherish it. Anyway it was just one of those moments tonight where the cool air and the smell of the leaves made me feel alive and happy to be here. Too many Uber rides or not.

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Uncategorized

a work in progress

I wonder, is anyone as surprised as I am to find themselves an adult? I think in someways I’ve got it down: I pay my bills on time, I work a full-time job, I have learned how to cook and can keep myself alive, I have decorated apartments and not with posters or string lights or cheap sheets for my bed, and I appreciate NPR news radio in a way  my six year-old self would have never thought possible (ok my 18 year old self too).  But a lot of the time it’s a bit of a shock to find out that I am an adult and what’s more, people look at me like I am an adult.

In all the ways I have a half grasp on adulthood I also feel like I’m nothing but a kid. Let me count the ways: I’m supposed to pay my dad for my car insurance but he forgets and I don’t remind him (also hello 28 year-old, get the title from your dad and get Illinois plates on your car). I have laughable savings, and while I have an IRA and two mutual funds (also with laughable amounts) I could only tell you abstractly at best what the hell those things even are. I put off doctors and dentist appointments like I’m a scared little baby – and even when I read articles about how important it is for me to consider some radical choices for a gene marker I have? I prefer to put those appointments off too. Remember how I said I can cook and survive? I don’t cook for myself nearly as much as I should – thus a reason for my pathetic bank accounts. I think mainly what consistently makes it a shock to me that I am an adult is the struggle it is to keep close the people you love. When I was a kid it was so easy, they were all around me. It’s the adultness (yes that is not a word, you are correct) of living across states from my siblings and across the country from best friends and apart from the people who I feel know me best that shouts *YOU’RE AN ADULT!” The most.

Apparently this in between stage, though it seems to last a lot longer for this generation, will be a time we look back on fondly. I’ve never been a girl to like the unknowns, so I’m looking forward to feeling like I’ve got this adult thing under better control soon. Maybe I’ll start by making a couple appointments and writing my dad a check.