Blog is an Ugly Word

Just This

2012-01-24T12:21:00.000-08:00

She has his hair

2011-10-10T13:33:00.001-07:00

Easter

2011-04-25T20:39:00.000-07:00

And now I have a baby.

2011-03-21T05:13:00.001-07:00

Checking In

2010-10-18T15:52:00.000-07:00

Pregnant Photo Shoots with Andrew

2010-09-08T18:28:00.000-07:00

...generally end like this.

A Few of My Favorite Things

2010-05-26T15:05:00.001-07:00

From our belated anniversary trip to Chicago:
Andrew
Diet Coke
Anthropologie
Cute Hats

How I Feel on Sunday Afternoons

2010-02-14T17:09:00.001-08:00

Rodent Breadstick

2009-12-13T16:13:00.000-08:00

Hi. I haven't blogged in a while. This should hold you over.

71-90

2009-09-30T06:32:00.000-07:00

Watching Andrew succeed in his classes, and how it grows his confidence.

When Jaron comes over, just to use some paper to make a grocery list.

How Murray smells after a day at the Yuppy Puppy salon.

GETTING A NEW JOB. At this place. :)

God working on my heart, clearing my head.

The nice lady who gave me a painless flu shot and giggled over my emotional distress.

My parents, for paying for it.

A lovely long weekend at home.

Walking the S.C. golf course and getting short, wet grass clippings on my shoes.

Sitting with Amy and Grandma on the couch, looking at facebook and blogs.

How Jace B. points his finger sternly when the boys are hitting each other.

Pumpkin pie.

Getting my wedding ring re-plated. It looks hot.

When Andrew answers the phone with a high-pitched "Wassup, gurrl?!"

Digging one of my cheapo pashminas out of the cold-weather-clothes bin.

Mums and pumpkins around the neighborhood.

My S.C. Boys Track sweatshirt. Secretly stolen from Brett Vander Berg in high school when he left it at my house after all-state practice. It is an amazing sweatshirt.

How the pond was a shining brilliant blue yesterday morning right before sunrise.

Macaroni and cheese. And baked Cheetohs. Lots of orange.

Sipping hot coffee with chocolate creamer in the blue chair, looking out the window for a while with Murray before I hop in the shower.

Boys....

2009-09-28T18:23:00.000-07:00

It's hard to take a nice picture of people when boys are involved.

Thanks, Micah.

...and Jaron...

...and Seth, probably the most frequent offender.

61-70

2009-09-18T08:32:00.000-07:00

Spending time with Abbie and Kinsey, laughing.

Quizzing Andrew for his first history test.

Hearing him accidentally say "Hugalobites" every time he means Huguenots.

Pretty wine labels.

Spending time with a new/old friend downtown.

Moroccan Mint tea at the Java House.

Sweet worship last weekend at church.

Thinking about Christmas plans with the family.

Trusting that God has a good plan for me, and that I'm living part of it right now.

Hearing from Jana that the Cranberries are going to tour the U.S.!!!

51 through 60

2009-09-10T06:59:00.000-07:00

A playful husband.

Finding out I'm going to be an aunt to a baby BOY.

Strolling the Amanas with Bink; finding cute necklaces.

A house full of noise and loved ones and piles of tennis shoes.

Getting my hair trimmed and smelling the minty shampoo.

Being followed around the pond by a talkative 9-year-old stranger.

A new boss who makes me laugh.

Good and heavy sleep.

Reading books in the blue chair while Andrew studies and sings out loud at his desk.

Unbaked almond patties in my freezer. Yum.

31 through 50

2009-08-20T09:11:00.000-07:00

Weekly August thunderstorms, and the view we enjoy from our home.

The perfect length of the walk I take over lunch to get a diet coke and read a book.

Sore muscles.

Waking up at 5:15 and actually feeling rested, then dozing for another hour next to my love.

Teaching Murray to successfully "shake hands."

Belly pictures from my pregnant sister. You heard me.

Working from home last Friday and writing all morning.

Eating square-cut Pagliai's with my family.

Groceries from my parents.

30 Rock Season 2.

Buying new school supplies, even if they aren't for me.

A letter from Grandma that mentions Mormons....

My single aster that has bloomed from the many seeds sown on Easter.

Fresh peaches.

Andrew laughing so hard he cries a little.

That Amy always gives me the number to Sushi PoPo, every time I ask for it.

Going to Target and Wal-Mart and checking out quickly, even though it is college move-in season.

A husband who will nonchalantly flick bugs off my t-shirt without alarming me uneccessarily.

The giant desk given to us for free by Phil and Jackie.

Finally baking fresh bread.

Tuesday Haiku

2009-08-11T14:21:00.000-07:00

Anne of Green Gables
upon my Kindle-grey screen
I don't want to work

(Perfectly Poetical Tuesdays)

21 through 30

2009-08-11T07:51:00.000-07:00

Summer thunderstorms. Falling alseep and waking to lightning.

The silky waves of Murray's newly short hair.

Mounds of deep red tomatoes piled high on the kitchen countertop.

New music from Luke.

Creamy, rough-chopped avacado in fresh guacamole.

My husband's long-suffering acceptance that I require millions of slow hugs.

The desire to jog.

The second life my potted flowers are enjoying.

Understanding more about how God doesn't promise happiness, but he does promise love.

The gurgle and gasp my little college 4-cupper makes when the coffee is finished brewing.

Mi Padre

2009-08-04T12:19:00.001-07:00

My dad is a little more famous every day.

Check it out!

http://www.medicine.uiowa.edu/alumni/interviews/lassen_del.html

Also...I wonder what year that photo was taken! :) hehehe

Blessings 11 through 20

2009-08-03T06:50:00.000-07:00

Waking up on a Saturday morning without the alarm.

Buying gigantic zucchinis at the farmers' market.

Java House breakfast with a husband who indulges me.

The spring and feel of new canvases for painting.

Black-eyed susans everywhere.

Murray running around off-leash, exploring, his tail going crazy.

Decaying barns with vines growing up the sides.

A scenic drive to Stone City, and the bluffs there.

Planting flame-red zinnias around our maple.

Grace from my husband when I'm severely crabby. :)

A Holy Experience

2009-07-27T06:51:00.000-07:00

I just love this site.
http://www.aholyexperience.com/
I visit it every morning as I sip hot tea at my desk. It makes me want to walk barefoot on hardwood floors and...sew a shirt or...churn something. I don't know.

The author has a project going where she endeavors to count and detail 1,000 small praises in an effort to be more mindful of all God has given her. I love it. I think I'll join her project (check out the link on the sidebar if you're interested, too).

Here is the start of my list, on my way to 1,000...

1. Peppermint tea at my quiet desk on a Monday morning.

2. Text messages from my husband.

3. Our small group meeting last night, and how similar our goals and struggles are.

4. My happy, mustard-yellow purse.

5. Spending time with Kinsey on a new project yesterday.

6. How Andrew never gets annoyed with being continually forced to help me tend the garden or pick green beans (there are spiders and jumpy bugs, you know).

7. The new waxy leaf and neon-green stems growing on my orchid plant.

8. How Murray collapses onto his back for tummy rubs as soon as he steps out his kennel.

9. The bright green, shiny jalapenos plucked from our garden yesterday.

10. The perfectly grey morning light that comes into our bedroom around waking time.

Sorry, Amy

2009-07-13T18:51:00.000-07:00

JENNA: ...this website says I could teach English in Asia...

ANDREW: Where?

JENNA: Asia.

ANDREW: Where in Asia? Asia's a pretty big continent. Or, as your sister would say, Asia's a pretty big city.

Tulip Paintings

2009-07-10T21:10:00.000-07:00

Here are the paintings I finished over the long weekend.

My little garage studio.

Sexy

2009-07-10T20:57:00.000-07:00

Give it back, jerk.

2009-07-10T20:41:00.000-07:00

We are watching London, the neighbor's poodle thingy. She and Murray like to wrestle. It started over some kibble.

The fight soon became about London's squeaky ice cream cone, which Murray loves.

There is biting involved, but it is all fun and games, as evidenced by Murray's wagging tale.

London usually wins when Murray gets exhausted.

The stare-down.

This is pretty much all I've seen all night:

Happy 4th of July!

2009-07-04T13:28:00.000-07:00

Home

2009-07-01T15:21:00.000-07:00

So, these are in mostly reverse order because....well....they just are. Enjoy some scenes from our mini summer vacation in Sioux Center and Okoboji.

Award-winning Series?

2009-07-01T15:18:00.000-07:00

Giant Rubber Uterus II

Photo of the Day

2009-06-03T18:38:00.000-07:00

I'm getting more and more serious about my photography.

I call this one Giant Rubber Uterus.

Ah, Freshly Cut Grass

2009-05-29T18:12:00.000-07:00

Tulip Time!

2009-05-16T20:43:00.000-07:00

Obsessed? Probably.

2009-05-01T18:30:00.000-07:00

Finally Finished a Painting

2009-04-26T19:19:00.000-07:00

Remember this one?

I finally got around to dusting off my brushes today!

Here's a WIP shot:

And this is the final version and a few details (the photos aren't great, but it's hard to take pictures when it's so wet!).

Kinsey's Hostas

2009-04-25T15:59:00.000-07:00

He Loves an Open Screen Door

2009-04-24T19:11:00.000-07:00

Yes.

2009-04-16T17:57:00.000-07:00

Almost Blooming!

2009-04-10T14:43:00.000-07:00

Ode

2009-03-31T14:08:00.001-07:00

sweet yellow nano
washed with o.j.
come back and play me a tune.

Go for a Walk?

2009-03-26T17:57:00.000-07:00

This was requested by Amy.
The baby talk was for effect. I don't usually talk to him like that. Not me. Never.

Go for a walk? from Jenna Aker on Vimeo.

Small Potatoes

2009-03-25T18:43:00.000-07:00

Got a few minutes? It's not exciting, but dude, it's cute.

I was washing some potatoes, and Murray was too quick and snatched up the one I dropped.
Oh, and p.s., he just got groomed today, so that is why he is wearing the frilly bow and has no eyebrows.

Small Potatoes from Jenna Aker on Vimeo.

On My Mind

2009-03-13T11:27:00.000-07:00

There are a lot of things I want to say on here, but I won't.

I have these verses tacked to my cubicle wall, written on various sticky notes in various ink colors. I have had them up for almost two years, and now I am reading them with a new heart.

"This is what the Lord says - your Redeemer, the Holy One of Israel: 'I am the Lord your God, who teaches you what is best for you, who directs you in the way you should go.' " -Isaiah 48:17

"I know that my Redeemer lives, and that in the end he will stand upon the earth." -Job 19:25

"Many are the plans in a man's heart, but it is the Lord's purpose that prevails." -Proverbs 19:21

"The Lord your God is with you, he is mighty to save. He will take great delight in you, he will quiet you with his love, he will rejoice over you with singing." -Zephaniah 3:17

Painting for Amy

2008-12-31T14:51:00.000-08:00

Months ago, Amy asked me to paint for her. The photo of the painting she wanted me to copy was sort of crappy, so I just did my own thing :) The loving husband managed to hang it in our art nook in time for Amy to see it over Christmas. (Unfortunately, she can't have it yet as it is dripping wet.)

It's beginning to look a lot like Christmas...

2008-12-16T14:53:00.000-08:00

Ol' Kentucky

2008-11-04T18:45:00.000-08:00

Getting BIG

2008-11-04T18:43:00.000-08:00

Old Hair

2008-09-20T10:49:00.000-07:00

It's sort of addictive...

New Hair

2008-09-08T17:58:00.000-07:00

Work Blues Haiku

2008-08-25T09:33:00.001-07:00

Mammoth spiders swing
Blinded by my back-lit screen
I want my puppy

Back to the Office

2008-08-24T13:47:00.001-07:00

My lovely summer of working from home has officially ended. Last Friday I went back to work in Cedar Rapids. I only cried a few times the day before, distraught over leaving my sweet puppy locked in his kennel all day without a break. I'm a little pathetic.

Surprise Visitor

2008-08-15T21:23:00.000-07:00

Check it out.

The Boys I Love

2008-08-08T16:18:00.000-07:00

My Dear Jana!

2008-08-02T13:51:00.000-07:00

I was just thinking about you. I love you!

Murray and His Honkin' Pig

2008-07-28T15:19:00.001-07:00

Ah, My Oils...

2008-07-17T18:31:00.001-07:00

Andrew is so good to me. Tonight he came home and told me to go out to the garage and paint, because I deserve to. So, I did! I started my first new painting in a year - based on a photo of Andrew and my dad from Okoboji a few summers ago.

Here are some progress shots:

This is the original picture:

Six Months with My Love

2008-06-29T19:28:00.001-07:00

Working from Home

2008-06-26T13:50:00.000-07:00

This is my home office. A bit disorganized, yes, but my job comes with a lot of paper, and my kitchen table isn't very big.

Home Office Perk #1: Rolling out of bed.

Handsome

2008-06-12T13:59:00.001-07:00

Pretty Food

2008-06-01T16:47:00.001-07:00

On Sunday nights, Andrew has J-Life at the church, and I get to make weird food for myself. It's easier to eat alone (and eat healthy meals) when your food is pretty and well plated. And really easy to make. Tonight's experiment: whole-wheat cheese tortellini in a pineapple pomodoro sauce. I'm also on an English-muffin-as-garlic-bread kick. Try it.

For those interested:

Tortellini with Pineapple Pomodoro
1 package cheese tortellini (whole-wheat was tasty)
1 can diced tomatoes
1/2 chopped sweet onion
1 large can pineapple chunks (or fresh if you're able)

Sweat the onions in a large saucepan or skillet. Add the diced tomatoes, throw in a pinch of sugar, and reduce for a little while. Add the pineapples, cover, and simmer while you boil water for the tortellini, stirring occasionally. Prepare pasta according to package directions, then drain. Add the pasta to your pomodoro, throw in a little fresh parsley, take a picture to show it off on your blog, put it on a pretty plate, and eat it. Yummm!

And I Just Love Him

2008-05-20T18:41:00.001-07:00

A Few Things I Love about Andrew

2008-04-23T09:21:00.000-07:00

· He puts chocolate chips in my pancakes without even asking.
· He's really good at lounging and looking utlimately comfortable.
· When he cooks dinner or does dishes, he tosses a hand towel over his shoulder.
· He rubs my back when we say our prayers at night.
· He plays tennis with me and doesn’t care if he loses.
· He loves children so much that he will let any child spit any object into his hand.
· When he jams out in the car, he uses the steering wheel, dashboard, my left leg, and sometimes the horn for percussion.
· If we are walking, he moves me to the inside when a car comes by.
· His manners are excellent.
· He is a great dancer and likes to entertain me.
· Nothing is funnier to him than a clever t-shirt.
· He loves puppies, even girly-fluffy ones.
· When he buys me a present, he gets really excited and gives it to me early.

Sweetpea

2008-03-13T11:07:00.000-07:00

Babies are on my heart a lot lately. Not that I necessarily want to have one at the moment, but since it is now a realistic possibility, the very thought of babies is circling the folds of my curly brain.

I read this today on a lovely blog and started crying a little, at work. It's from a letter a woman wrote to herself two years ago after having a miscarriage at 14 weeks. They called the baby Sweetpea.

How could I regret then, for one moment, any of that? How can I regret knowing early even if I lost early? How can you put a limit on joy? We should always risk ourselves, over and over. Why just a piece of ourselves? No no, there’s too much inside to be half assed about this. Life and love are sacred arts: we should not be dilettantes. I could tell you over and over this isn’t a tragedy and that it isn’t tragic and it would be true, as true as my smiles (always real) and my laughter (always ready), and my outlook (always optimistic).
But this is also true:
I am deeply sad.

...
I don't know how I would react, and I don't know how my mother does what she does.

Psalm 66

2008-03-06T06:55:00.000-08:00

For the director of music. A song. A psalm.

Shout with joy to God, all the earth!
Sing the glory of his name;
make his praise glorious!

Say to God, "How awesome are your deeds!
So great is your power
that your enemies cringe before you.

All the earth bows down to you;
they sing praise to you,
they sing praise to your name."

Come and see what God has done,
how awesome his works in man's behalf!

He turned the sea into dry land,
they passed through the waters on foot—
come, let us rejoice in him.

He rules forever by his power,
his eyes watch the nations—
let not the rebellious rise up against him.

Praise our God, O peoples,
let the sound of his praise be heard;

he has preserved our lives
and kept our feet from slipping.

For you, O God, tested us;
you refined us like silver.

You brought us into prison
and laid burdens on our backs.

You let men ride over our heads;
we went through fire and water,
but you brought us to a place of abundance.

I will come to your temple with burnt offerings
and fulfill my vows to you-

vows my lips promised and my mouth spoke
when I was in trouble.

I will sacrifice fat animals to you
and an offering of rams;
I will offer bulls and goats.

Come and listen, all you who fear God;
let me tell you what he has done for me.

I cried out to him with my mouth;
his praise was on my tongue.

If I had cherished sin in my heart,
the Lord would not have listened;

but God has surely listened
and heard my voice in prayer.

Praise be to God,
who has not rejected my prayer
or withheld his love from me!

Wedding Photos

2008-02-21T18:04:00.000-08:00

The professional photos for our wedding are online! So...if you wanna see 'em, lemme know. :)
Here are a few shots from the fabulous Rachel Farley, who did candid photography for us. She rocks.

My Father's E-mails

2008-02-06T09:20:00.000-08:00

This is where I get my skillz:

Hello Childrens,
Are the Iowa City childrens going to get major snow today? Lianne, do you get any snow there lately? I told Ty he did a lousy job of scooping yesterday and truly hurt his feelings. I will choose my words more carefully next time. I will think about what those words should be as I scoop. As I scoop in the evening silence, I will think about things. My quiet alone time as I scoop. Alone with my thoughts, and the scoop and the snow. All alone scooping. Snow. By myself. Because I canceled the driveway scooping people. So I will think about whether that was a good decision, because I have time to think about it out there by myself, scooping. Scooping the snow that keeps on coming. May keep on coming for a couple of months yet. So I will have lots of opportunity to think as I scoop. By myself. With my scoops---I have several now---like I'm looking for the one that will make it better, or maybe just looking for companionship. From my scoop. Alone in the driveway. In the snow.
Love You!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Dad

Another Blog....don't ask why.

2008-02-06T09:18:00.000-08:00

Interesteds, Andrew and I started a married blog. It's one of those things we just did, so don't roll your eyes or make some comment about how I can't even handle one blog.
Deal. With. It.
And go there!

http://www.ajaker.blogspot.com

Hey....I got married!

2008-01-08T18:48:00.000-08:00

Hello, children of the Heavenly Father.
I have been a delinquent blogger, and I have several good excuses:
1. I started my first job.
2. I am lazy.
3. I got married to a really good-looking man.

I will probably still be a delinquent blogger, but now I am out of excuses.

Now....Some Pictures!!!

Smart Chick

2007-08-29T16:27:00.000-07:00

The greatest burden we have to carry in life is

self. The most difficult thing we have to manage

is self. Our own daily living, our frames and

feelings, our especial weaknesses and

temptations, and our peculiar temperaments,--our

inward affairs of every kind,--these are the

things that perplex and worry us more than

anything else, and that bring us oftenest into

bondage and darkness. In laying off your burdens,

therefore, the first one you must get rid of is

yourself. You must hand yourself and all your

inward experiences, your temptations, your

temperament, your frames and reelings, all over

into the care and keeping of your God, and leave

them there. He made you and therefore He

understands you, and knows how to manage you, and

you must trust Him to do it.

--HANNAH WHITALL SMITH

Seriously

2007-07-06T10:03:00.000-07:00

Expression of Faith Bridal Garter

Drum Lesson

2007-06-24T19:19:00.001-07:00

Working Every Day Blows

2007-06-24T19:13:00.000-07:00

Hello, friendlies! Apparently, being employed 'full-time' is more literal than I had anticipated. When I am not working, I am thinking about sleeping or actually doing it. Sometimes I plan a wedding. Mostly I just want to watch old movies and eat chocolate. What is the deal?!

I am living with Andrew's parents. They are lovely and accommodating, but I miss my sisters. How can you be lonely in a house full of people? I need some girlfriends.

Andrew and I went to the John Mayer and Ben Folds concert in Des Moines last week with the Mazuniks. It rocked hard.

(And that reminds me....we want to have a geode-cracking party.)

In other news, I have health insurance.

Wow - being a real person comes with some really boring details.

I'll post again when I am feeling less smarmy.

Engagement Pics That Just Don't Work

2007-05-22T20:30:00.001-07:00

Moving Out

2007-05-22T20:23:00.000-07:00

Also the name of the new musical featuring the music of Billy Joel (yeah!), the title of the post is significant for many people right now.

Me.
Mike and Lianne.
Amy.

Okay, there are more....but I have a limited circle of friends...er...relatives.

I just moved in with my fiance's family. They are lovely and welcoming. I will get some groceries tomorrow so I feel like less of a moocher.

We are all going home to Sioux Center this weekend for my big little brother's high school graduation. Then he will be in Iowa City for school! So...I lose three, but gain one. It's addition by subtraction. :D

Guess what?

2007-05-16T07:30:00.001-07:00

I got the job!!!!! :D

Graduation Party

2007-05-14T07:53:00.000-07:00

Happy Things

2007-05-10T06:03:00.000-07:00

I have a wedding dress and it's hot!
I have a second interview on Monday for the editing job!
We are almost positive we have a church for our ceremony!
My family is in town and they are fun!
Our party is coming up!
I'm in love!

A Full Plate

2007-05-07T12:34:00.000-07:00

The above title is great because it means a lot of things. I like things that mean a lot of things. (And here I am, using the almost meaningless word "thing" over and over.)

Anyway, meaning # 1:
There's a lot going on.
I've got to finish editing this screenplay today, because tomorrow I am in Ames for my brother's choir recital then in Des Moines to dress shop with my Mom and Lianne (woo!). So...this monster of an honors project is due Wednesday...and I just don't want to work on it. Go figure, huh?
Aside from that, I've got job-interview stuff/possibilities floating around in the air. I finished all my 'homework' for the editing job, so hopefully they get back to me this week!
Aside from that, I'm graduating Saturday and having a big shindig with my co-graduating cohorts.
Along with that, there will be a million people here this week/weekend for the goings-on.
In other news, I have an eye infection and am incredibly sick of my infernal glasses.
Aside from that, I need to plan a wedding.
Hopefully having my mother here will expedite the process. Really hopefully.

And, meaning #2:
This ties in to the last item - wedding hoopla and madness. Hoopla, because a lot of it is seriously ridiculous because you never thought you'd spend so much emotional energy on deciding if you should buy or make your own invitations. Madness, because every stupid website I go to tells me I am going to be an unlovely, fat bride unless I kick it in the butt with this or that pre-wedding workout. Hence the dangers of a full plate.

Let's also having a meaning #3:
This is the moral of the story, so that this post is not totally a waste of everyone's time (wasn't I supposed to be editing a screenplay?...). A full plate can also mean God has blessed me with much, entrusted me with much, and believes I can handle much. If I'd get my silly head out of the details and check out what He's doing in the big-picture, it would make more and prettier sense. He knows I have trouble with trying to please the world and find approval there. He's letting me see I need to hold things loosely. I need to be with Jesus more and more, especially if I expect to be any kind of a good wifey. I should probably get off the internet and go read my Bible.

Almost There!

2007-05-03T09:09:00.000-07:00

I have two more classes (well, three if you count the last recital I have to hit...) and one big screenplay to edit before I am officially done with college!

I also have to do a bunch of follow-up homeworky type things for that job interview I had.

Then I can hopefully have a job.

And then I can plan a wedding!!!
(Incidentally, I found this fabulous pair to coordinate my wedding - Kinsey for the aesthetics and Alex to put things together :D )

Oh, and here's the great picture from our household Graduation Party Invitation:

Jazz is Weird

2007-04-29T19:29:00.000-07:00

Okay, we'll just start with the apology and get it out of the way:
Sorry, jazz dudes. Sorry ultra-talented musicians. Sorry anyone who likes to make faces. (and, incidentally, sorry that you're reading my blog! that must be a real blow to your self-esteem, realizing that you are reading a blog instead of living your life. I'd pat you on the back condescendingly if either of us existed in real time!)

And now to the post:

I went to Kansas City this weekend with my darling fiance to go to a Yellowjackets concert. (The Yellowjackets are Andrew's father's favorite jazz band.) The music was incredible, with the particular standouts being Marcus Baylor (drummer) and Jimmy Haslip (bass). It was a great concert (here comes THE BUT), but (told you!)....jazz is weird.

I love blues and I love big band swing. I love a lot of music, and I could appreciate how talented these guys were. That said, I was also appreciating (in the sense of discerning or noticing, rather than the connoted pleasure from such observation) just how into it these guys were. I mean, we're talking facial contortions and forehead-vein-pulsings from a different realm. Haslip's long solos were accented by his singing of every note in a sort of grunting scat that for some reason made me uncomfortable. (Okay, Baylor's drum freak-outs were just cool, I'll admit that.)
It was all fascinating, but also made me wonder...what am I missing, here? There were all these people around me grooving with it and doing that rhythmic head nod thing that says, "Yeah, I get this," but I was sort of outside it all. Is it just jazz? Is there something in you that strictly does or does not click with jazz? Maybe it was just this kind of jazz, whatever. I'm glad I went, because I had a great time, but (there it is again) I think it was weird fun, and not just straight up fun.

Job Interview!

2007-04-29T19:26:00.000-07:00

That's right, there may yet be hope.
I have a job interview (my first ever...hmmm) in Cedar Rapids tomorrow. It's for an editorial and writing position for a small commercial real estate magazine. Granted, I know nothing about commercial real estate and next to nothing about writing for magazines, but....they called me, so there.
I've been sort of avoiding thinking about what they might ask me, and I haven't printed off my resume or references. I did manage, however, to run to Target to find a necklace to snazz up my interview outfit. Girls are ridiculous.

I am still confident of this...

2007-04-16T18:27:00.000-07:00

Psalm 27

The Lord is my light and my salvation - whom shall I fear?
The Lord is the stronghold of my life - of whom shall I be afraid?

When evil men advance against me to devour my flesh,
when my enemies and my foes attack me,
they will stumble and fall.
Though an army besiege me,
my heart will not fear;
though war break out against me,
even then will I be confident.

One thing I ask of the Lord,
this is what I seek:
that I may dwell in the house of the Lord
all the days of my life,
to gaze upon the beauty of the Lord
and to seek him in his temple.

For in the day of trouble
he will keep me safe in his dwelling;
he will hide me in the shelter of his tabernacle
and set me high upon a rock.
Then my head will be exalted
above the enemies who surround me;
at his tabernacle will I sacrifice
with shouts of joy;

I will sing and make music to the Lord.

Hear my voice when I call, O Lord;
be merciful to me and answer me.
My heart says of you, "Seek his face!"
Your face, Lord, I will seek.
Do not hide your face from me,
do not turn your servant away in anger;
you have been my helper.

Do not reject me or forsake me,
O God my Savior.
Though my father and mother forsake me,
the Lord will receive me.

Teach me your way, O Lord;
lead me in a straight path
because of my oppressors.
Do not turn me over to the desire of my foes,
for false witnesses rise up against me,
breathing out violence.

I am still confident of this:
I will see the goodness of the Lord
in the land of the living.
Wait for the Lord;
be strong and take heart
and wait for the Lord.

__
This was important for me tonight.
I told God that all my confidence was gone.
He said that was impossible.

Whom shall I fear?

Easter

2007-04-09T07:43:00.000-07:00

My family came down for Easter.
I sang five church services.
I ate a lot of food.
I looked for new apartments.
My mom bought me some clothes.
My brothers played Wii.
I GOT ENGAGED.

(I think that's a sufficient update, even if I haven't blogged in weeks.)

Boom!

On a Lighter Note,

2007-03-08T11:10:00.000-08:00

We're Sorry to Let You Know

2007-03-04T17:10:00.000-08:00

I'm rejected, officially. The sweetly impersonal letter from the Writer's Workshop arrived yesterday. Thankfully, I had almost the entire day to myself to be emotional and mope around.
Then I went shopping.

Now.....
I need to take a breath, aahhh, and trust that this is best.
This is best.
This is best.
This is best.

And, I need to stop worrying about trying to make my father proud.
("Are you now trying to impress God or men? Or are you trying to please men?")

And, I need to get a job. And a place to live.
And....I need to take a breath again.
This is best, yes, eventually.

And She Gets Her Flowers

2007-02-15T17:39:00.000-08:00

(Andrew loves me.)

Amy's Getting Married

2007-02-07T05:35:00.000-08:00

This Will Sting

2007-01-30T08:11:00.000-08:00

I just had my pupils dilated for the first time.
I can't really read what I'm typing.
This is problematic in that I have an essay, two poems,
a screenplay, and a play to write.
I also have to do an entry in my jogging log. (ha)

I bought a milky tea at HOA (it's freaking freezing outside) and the
dude looked at me like I was on drugs.
Maybe I am, dude, but don't give me the spook eye until you know me better.

Anyway, the point is, if you go to get your eyes checked and they're like, "Can we dilate you today?" Just say no. Say, "Sorry, I've got a lot of writing to do" or "I'm building a ship in a bottle and really need to focus today."

In other news, there were sun dogs that looked like rainbows in the sky this morning. That was nice. Let's hear it for God for making eyeballs with which to see (or kind of see) his creations.

Nonfiction

2007-01-24T13:45:00.000-08:00

I've been verbally (or virtually) threatened with flogging for my lack of blogging. But see, if you read this, you have to pretend you don't so I will post without feeling like there are eyes on me. But, ironically, I like comments and secretly crave feedback. So...figure it out yourself.

Anyway, this is my last semester. Hooo. Ray.

I'm taking silly little classes like Jogging I (and yes, I'm the slow girl. Every class has one.) and independent screenwriting. I'm also dabbling in poetry and nonfiction.

Nonfiction, I think, will be really good. Generally, anything I write has an absurdly autobiographical flavor, so maybe I've been on the wrong track with fiction. (Who needs it, anyway?) If I don't get into the Writer's Workshop this year, maybe I'll apply to the Nonfiction program for next year. Possibilities (and I sang that word, like on the Campbell's Soup commercials).

This week we had to write an essay about what we imagine someone we know was like before we ever knew them.
Excerpt? If you must...

"There is much mystery to my mother’s side of the family, but little romance. So when I saw it, his photo, I was pulled, attracted to an image that spoke history. He was handsome. Blonde. Big. He was a drum major, and his outfit was regal, with tassels and textures and knobby buttons that gleamed. His back was straight and tall, and he held the scepter-like baton with an easy command. His hair was longish, bowl cut, and so white-blonde that he seemed Nordic, impressive.

We know he was once a park ranger in the Rocky Mountains. There are no pictures, but oh, I can see him, flannel-clad and bundled in a green canvas coat. He parks his jeep and drinks coffee from a thermos like my mother’s, with the plastic red cap. And he watches the sun rise hot orange over the blue snow peaks. In his rustic, storybook cabin, he sits before the fire. A beautiful woman stands in the doorway of his bedroom and smiles, wearing his pajamas. And he smiles, and his nice blonde hair shakes gently with his head.

There’s a gap, then, until the time that I was born and gradually knew him. I won’t imagine his coming back to Iowa, and I won’t dream his slow transformation into a man who would still time by surrounding himself with the past. When I see him at Christmas, he is older and maybe quieter. I see his orthopedic shoes without laces and miss my Viking."

IHOP

2007-01-11T13:05:00.000-08:00

Several members of our worship team went on a retreat to IHOP (International House of Prayer) last weekend in Kansas City.

Let's play the poetry game, where we use very brief, descriptive phrases or words to describe a larger experience or emotion.
Ready, go!

The Prayer Room Haiku:

rooted on a seat
for hours and four hours
planting of the Lord

Staying at the apartments:

We were all cold and felt silly
the morning we found the
thermostat.

The sun was always sort of
piercing, slicing lines across
Amy's face on the couch.

We showered fast, and I was first,
taking time to brush my teeth
in the dark kitchen, wondering if
Erin really saw someone
standing over my bed.

Ice-skating:

embarrassed
stiff ridiculousness
more work than fun
blushing or exertion?
no grace
more grace
ice legs
more fun than work
sore ankles in the morning

the Sunday church service:

And, when we couldn't listen any longer,
Andrew tried to pry my fingers out of
the ball my fist made.

I was ready for communion,
but the dancing
and the chanting
and the crying
and the prophesying
made me nervous.

I held his hand at the end for an anchor,
and we were mutually disturbed by
our want of spirit
and the display or theirs.

And, because words can only do so much:

A Merry Little Christmas

2006-12-22T11:33:00.000-08:00

Boys in Bands

2006-12-19T22:04:00.000-08:00

(and the girls who follow them around with cameras, I suppose)

Five Months

2006-12-15T10:54:00.000-08:00

So, it's official. Early this week I sent in all my junk to the Writer's Workshop at Iowa and the creative writing program at Michigan, just for kicks. I've applied myself, or something.

Is it silly to admit that I prayed over the stuffed white envelopes, bulging with my writing and the probably exaggerated praise of my professors? Well, I'm silly.
I know God has a good plan for me, and whatever he decides is going to be a whole lot better than anything I could scheme. So...give it five months or a little less, and then I can start answering that question I constantly get, "So, what are you doing after graduation?"
(And she replies, "Ummm...well, Dad, not sure yet. Blah blah blah....")

I am about to go into an exorbitantly excruciating essay examination (ha), and then I am done (finito!) for the semester. One more to go. And all ridonkulous classes for the spring, I might add (and I did).

Here's the real deal: in five months I will have (or have to have) a plan. I am excited to find out what I will be doing (working, writing, or greeting at Wal-Mart?), but I am also a tad trepidatious (oooh) about all the looming changes. My sisters will be leaving me (by proximity or otherwise), I will need to find somewhere to live (here, there?), and I feel like I'll kind of be on my own. I know this is not true, but...it's still sort of a fear. Who will take care of me? (I like being taken care of.) Maybe this will be a good change, and I will grow up a little. We'll see. Check back with me in four or five months.

When You Start Losing Body Parts

2006-12-07T11:30:00.000-08:00

Yesterday, I finished writing my last analytical papers in college. (cross those fingers. cross them!) And, afterwards, my eyes were so wonky from looking at a computer screen, they fell out. Plop, plop, right onto the keyboard. It was really gross, but moreso embarrassing, seeing as I was at a coffee shop.

Then, today, walking from the parking ramp to my first class, my ears and and my nose fell off. It was really sad, because I happen to like my ears, and my nose (even though it doesn't work as well as it might and is a bit asymmetrical and silly-looking) is useful for balancing out my face.

Stranger yet, in my first class, while my (once-beloved-now-reviled) Swedish professor basically shot down all our questions about next week's horrendous essay exam, I wanted to say mean things to him so badly that I bit off my tongue. Right off.

It really puts things in perspective, you know? I mean, I've still got my fingers. I can still type. And, okay, I've still got my eyes, because I have to look at the screen to make sure I'm spelling things correctly. But, seriously, think about how much you like your ears. They're really kind of neat. And noses, well, they are usually more trouble than they are worth (like Ponies), but they do wonders for that space above your mouth and below your eyes.

Anyway, I just wanted to write something.

Like a Trap

2006-12-01T10:14:00.000-08:00

"Heaven and earth," said Jesus in Luke 21, "will pass away, but my words will never pass away."

And then, teaching about the end of our time:
"Be careful, or your hearts will be weighed down with dissipation, drunkeness and the anxieties of life, and that day will close on you unexpectedly like a trap. For it will come upon all those who live on the face of the whole earth. Be always on the watch, and pray that you may be able to escape all that is about to happen, and that you may be able to stand before the Son of Man."

This passage has concerned me (and I welcome concern!) today. While drunkeness has never really been my problem, how true rings "dissipation" and a heart weighed down with "the anxieties of life."

I am so idle, so desirous of distraction. I think a lot (I think I do, anyway (see, there it is!)), and, while this doesn't seem like an overtly bad thing, I'm starting to see it for what it is - dissipation, distraction, the wasting of my minutes on the unreality I construct in my brain.

I tell myself, you're writing in your head. You're coming up with material. Your time spent staring at the fireplace and letting your thoughts collide and ricochet is not for naught. You can use this stuff, Jen. It's gold. (Oh, my, it's ashes, all.) And, guess what? God's words may stand forever, but mine will most inevitably and gratefully not.

And...my heart is heavy, weighed down with the frivolity of my employ. It does not satisfy as does a brief, hard hit with scripture. How does he do that? Why don't I let him do it more often? If I would consistently let him renew my heart, I would surely be more "careful," as he warns.

And, more to the point of the passage, all this dissipation is indeed a trap I am setting for myself. I am so stuck on myself, so concerned with my concerns, so anxious over my anxieties, that I have forgotten to be watchful. I have forgotten to help others know how to watch. I have forgotten others. I have forgotten...a lot of things. I have pulled my sin around me for comfort, for the reflection (the lie) of security. I do what I hate, you know.

Oh, to be able to stand before the Son of Man. Who can stand?
I know I am saved, justified, and, haltingly (like an ass (okay, I said it)) led to sanctification. I will be able to stand, but, and I know this more and more, Jesus will have to hold me up.

So, children of the Heavenly Father, go do something with your day.

Stop wasting your time on the internet.

Stop your blog-hopping and go love somebody else, for crying out loud. It's good for your heart.

Screenwriting

2006-11-21T10:16:00.000-08:00

I am at the Java House on Mormon Trek, screenwriting. That sentence connotes something fancy and perhaps intellectual. Believe me, it's neither. But it smells really good.

I am going to Kansas in two days (yipee!) for Thanksgiving festivities and need to write at least 35-40 pages before I can leave. My outline is jumbled. Some of the scenes are good, but the overall structure is wonky. I need some structure!

Here's my main deal:
I really want to write something for God that speaks to people (on some level, anyway) without being overtly preachy or, please no, condescending. If I'm going to condescend, I will do it in my ridiculous papers for class. Not in my screenwriting.

The whole reason I wanted to pursue film in the first place was to write films that were about real people with real hearts and problems and a real need for salvation.

I know it's presuming a lot to think I can accomplish that with my own hands, but I'm smarter than that. I'm just waiting for something....(in my brain's fantasy-land (where I go to play a lot, incidentally) God zaps down an outline with three acts, a tantalizing denouement, and a tear-jerking message of grace, right onto my macbaby).

It's probably better that God makes me figure things out slow-like.

Or... maybe (fine, probably) the process is slow because I spend most of my "screenwriting" time blogging, facebooking, amazoning, and searching the internet for sparkly things I'm not ready to have.

I get it, okay?
Back to work.

Dexter, by way of Ann Arbor

2006-11-14T14:16:00.000-08:00

I helped Lianne drive to Michigan Sunday, and back home Monday.
Lots of driving.
And while she had her residency interview...I drove around.
Also, homework.

Initial thoughts: Positive.
I like Ann Arbor, quite a lot, from my surface explorations.
I was a chicken and didn't even try to harrass the people
at the creative writing program.

But...I did find a charming little town called Dexter,
where I may just have to live someday.

And, my dream house (though it was far away, across
a "pretty-ish sort of wilderness" and surrounded by woods).

Pictures to follow.

Shop-Therapy

2006-11-09T21:20:00.000-08:00

Hey, I've got jeans now. And they make me look hot (I'm allowed to say that because it's true).
I'm still searching for shoes, but I'm confidant it will happen.
It's cool.

No Shoes

2006-11-06T16:37:00.000-08:00

John Lee Hooker singing "I ain't got no shoes"
has been playing in my head.
Mainly because I ain't got no shoes.
And by that, I mean I do have shoes,
enough shoes,
and don't actually need more, but I want more,
and yet I just cannot get more.
Why?
I think the answer could be very revealing, possibly offering an
explanation for why I'm sort of messed up.

Let's start from the top.
1. I need new shoes for everyday life. My current shoes are
sort of gross-looking, and they also sort of hurt my feet.
So...(sort of) need has been established.
2. I have been known to enjoy shopping.

So, put those together and you get new shoes.
But, I have tried three times in the last week or two
to purchase new shoes for my pretty feet, to no avail.
Money, yes, is an issue to an extent. I like all these $95
sneakers. Problem, yes.

But, also, the moment I start to like a pair of shoes, this
mean, mean voice in my head starts telling me I don't *deserve*
them. It could be right, but it's still mean.
(Incidentally, I need a new pair of jeans, too, but it's the same story
(except with jeans, it's less about deserving nice things
and more about criticizing my thighs).)

I want to be nice to myself, at least sometimes.
How do you change that?
I'm tired of it. I talk to God and he tells me I'm special,
I'm chosen, I'm supposed to be like this, I'm precious,
I'm beautiful, I'm going places....
and then, as soon as I hang up the phone, Boom. I suck.

And other times, man, I am too hot for me to comprehend.
I'm awesome. I smarter than all those people
(you know - those people). I'm just *it*.

Where is the balance? Why am I missing that important
apparatus? In my head, it's sort of like one of those dimmer switches,
adjustable to small increments in either direction.
I, unfortunately, got stuck with a regular old light switch. On or Off.

Things to work on. Things to give up.
My shoes should last for a little while longer.

And pumpkin dip, too

2006-10-31T15:36:00.000-08:00

True Fictions

2006-10-27T09:03:00.000-07:00

(Which, incidentally, was the name of a really irritating class I took last year. But, anyway...)

I'm forty-odd pages into my screenplay. I am writing what I know (read: slightly dysfunctional families from Iowa) and...wouldn't you know, it's taking a way-too familiar turn (and I mean "familiar," as I probably would, quite literally). It's sort of fun to use stories from my childhood and graft them onto fictional characters, but there is also some trickiness there.

At what point do you stop yourself from making a character completely dispicable because she is based on your mother?

At what point do you realize you're trying to make the character based on yourself seem admirable or wronged unjustly?

Sometimes I think it is fun to draw off real life, but...then suddenly I realize how much of a brat I am, doing this. How I can never let any of my family members read it, because they would probably hate me for a little while. (So, sisters, sorry.)

Anyway, here's an excerpt that is probably not too damaging to any of the ficitonal and or real characters involved:

INT. CLARK FAMILY SUBURBAN - DAY

OLDER MARIE (V.O., CONT'D.)
David was a jerk, but he was fifteen, so it made sense.

David sees Greg looking at him and smacks him on the back of the head. Greg winces and gives him a dirty look. David belches.

OLDER MARIE (V.O., CONT'D.)
Greg was sweet, if you got him alone. Otherwise he was pretty much like David.

Close up on Joe, playing with a straw, waving his hand behind it wildly and making wet, whooshing noises.

OLDER MARIE (V.O., CONT'D.)
Joe was...a different sort of child. My father called him a "twerp," but my mother voiced fears that there was something "wrong with him." His best friend was a straw, after all.

Joe makes even louder noises and young Marie elbows him in the back seat. The camera moves to Doug.

OLDER MARIE (V.O., CONT'D.)
My dad was smart. And he loved smart people. And he loved for his children to be smart.

DOUG
Quiz for the day!

All the children listen in excitement.

DOUG(CONT'D.)
(slow and deliberate)
When the glaciers melted off the land in this area...they left huge soil deposits which formed...what?

GREG
Caves!

DOUG
Incorrect.

MARIE
Hills!

DOUG
More specific.

He waits for a beat.

DOUG(CONT'D.)
Ronnie?

She pretends to ignore him by looking out the window but is really thinking about the answer.

ERICA
You've done this one before.

DOUG
Then you can't play. David?

DAVID
I don't care unless the answer is food. I'm starving.

Ronnie says something to Doug. He gets excited.

DOUG
Yes! And the mommy is smart! That's right.

JOE
What is it?

DOUG
Ronnie?

RONNIE
Terminal moraines.

JOE
What?

DOUG
Terminal moraines, Joe. Those hills out your window.

JOE
But what are they? Dad!

DAVID
I swear you're stupid. He just told you.

ERICA
Be nice.

JOE
Are they full of dinosaur bones? Dad!

GREG
You're full of dinosaur bones.

JOE
(hands up like monster claws)
Then maybe I'll eat you!

DAVID
Like you ate those dinosaur bones?

JOE
(confused)
What? Dad.

RONNIE
(sharply)
Joe! Shut your mouth until we get there. You're driving everyone nuts.

____
Ummmm....so, yeah. I think I need to add some magic realism to this story, or things are gonna get stickily autobiographical, and fast.

Dress Up for Candy

2006-10-20T14:26:00.000-07:00

Or, chocolate, rather, seeing as it's the only kind of candy I would dress up for.
Oh, who am I kidding? I'd dress up for Twizzlers, too.

Anyway - COSTUME PARTY. I love them. We're having one. One week.
The family will be in town for football, which means several things:
1. even if our friends don't come, it will seem as if people showed up
2. you could catch Del in a costume (he'll probably go as a doctor. he's creative)
3. chocolate fountain
4. a good chance my ten year old brother will do his dance routine to "The Final Countdown"
5. well, I'd go on, but that is a pretty impressive list for a party

Basically, I need some fun. And if that means I have to go as a
Three-hole-punched version of Jenna, so be it.

Mid-Terminal Senioritis

2006-10-16T20:04:00.000-07:00

Sounds pretty bad, doesn't it? Well, it's worse than that.
I may not be the doctor in this family (I may be the only not-doctor in this family),
but I can tell when something is wrong.

The symptoms:
Apathy
Lethargy
Procrastination (of the airborne variety)
Runny Nose
Running Mouth
Prolonged Napping Inclination (PNI)
Headache
Extreme Sarcasm
Moroseness
Pitiful Noises
Desire to Party-Plan
Shopping Impulses
Ulcer
Curlintoaballneosis
(and many more)

Drugs we've tried:
Homework (failed)
Listening in class (failed)
Persevering Good Cheer (oh my, failed)
Blogging (okay, so we didn't try that)

The cure(?):
Oh, of course it's more Jesus.
(You don't have to be a doctor to know that.)
Taking my eyes off me, for a drastic change, would help, too.

I have junk to get done.
A presentation for tomorrow.
A paper for tomorrow.
A resume for tomorrow.
A short story copied for tomorrow.
Applications for letters of recommendation for tomorrow.
Seven pages for Thursday.
Fifty pages of screenplay in less than two weeks.
Stories for applying to the WW.
JUNK!!!!!!!!!

And the thing is, if I were motivated and nicer to myself, I would
not have this all to do at once. I would have spaced it out. I
would have consulted Amy to make up a rigorous scheduling
system for the completion of said junk.

However, here we are....and here I blog...instead of working...
What is that? Is this that 'imp of the perverse' Poe was so crazy about?

Anyway, let's hope this thing doesn't spread to my organs.
I don't want to crash and bleed out.
I just want a long sleep, to snuggle-bunny (you know what I mean),
and to have a costume party.
Oh, and to get right with God.

(another symptom is Messed Up Priorities, but my priorities were
so messed up I forgot to put it on the list)

Don't worry, my darlings. I'll wash my hands after
every episode of whining.

"My Cairo"

2006-09-24T14:47:00.000-07:00

(made possible by a generous grant from the William Flinn Foundation for Culture and the Arts)

You think it's difficult to explain;
the guards in their towers, guns
ready to keep you out or in or (un)protected.

The Church is in bricks, sticks out
from cool concrete, hard structures
that aren't ever houses.

Merryland has your Nikes;
Korba has cafes and this boy who
theatened you with a lightbulb, bright idea.

Men in this gem live their contradiction
in front of the kids: defend your women and
violate a woman. And she's veiled, sometimes.

Oh, they love to laugh, too, and smile while
starving for a cell phone,
laughing over frustration
and fistfighting in traffic.

In the country they grow posters of the President,
not like in Iowa. And thousands of cats slink
through the mess in the streets, think the
stickered cabs that watch you ride are normal,
not like in Iowa.

In Iowa the blizzard doesn't get in your lungs, but here,
forget about driving or seeing, forget about
streets and tones you could understand.
Sand stings, and other things, too.

You aren't afraid at night, now, and know
everyone else wants to leave, too: you gently
upset her by refusing to be a ticket.

You'll teach the children in the new concrete building, and mention
the difference between the desert and what you know.
They will smile because you're funny, and you'll answer about
the hope that you have, once you
learn some Arabic.