Bug in Your Ear

I might as well come out and tell you, I have a goal to post every day until Christmas. This Christmas 2010. I know my Jewish friends like Bari in NYC don't celebrate Christmas, so to her I say: I might as well come out and tell you Bari, I have a goal to post everyday until December 25, 2010.

Now I should have my bases covered.

But I was up sooo late the other night trying to figure out some social media stuff (because my facebook account has maxed out at 5,000 friends and I feel bad because what about my 5,001 friend?) and I was too tired to post, so ooops I didn't quite make my goal and I still had four months left.

But then I went on a walk and decided that if I didn't post on one day it could be forgiven if I posted twice the next day, and because I am the type of person who loves to make up her own rules, it worked! Tonight I posted a post about my father in law, and now I am writing this post, and I feel all sorts of BACK ON TRACK!

Only, this post is sort of lame.

Maybe it will get better if I post a picture that Chup took of a fly on the wall:

Intriguing Chup, thank you.

Speaking of a fly on the wall, today Lucy and I were at lunch with our children downtown when we indulged in some sisterly gossip, I mean the kind where I spill leaky details about my life, and when I was done squeezing the juicy details out of my soul the lady sitting at the table next to us said, "Hi. I read your blog."

Ooops.

And I said, "Oh shoot. I was gossiping."

And she said, "I didn't hear anything."

But between the both of us? I HAVE A LOUD VOICE. I am deaf in my right ear (born with a hole in my eardrum) and I compensate all the time.

(Hi cute lady from Central Bank! Mum's the word alright?)

Well, I promise a better post next time. There is a lot of good to do in the world and unfortunately, this post isn't going to help the cause.

On the bright side, I have a new facebook page so if you want to be my friend on planet facebook you can like me there.

I am c jane and I should say "mum's the word" more often.
cjanemail@gmail.com

What the World Needs

Less fathers in the law, more fathers-in-law. Like mine.

I am c jane and my father-in-law is named Ernie and his father-in-law is named Bert. No kidding.
cjanemail@gmail.com

For Ever Hallelujah!

A good friend and I were talking the other night, she asked me, "What is the best part of you right now?"

I like that question, especially the qualifier right now.

Because I'd like to believe I'm made up of thousands of moving parts (both physical and not) which rotate and cycle, influx and flow and the best part of me is constantly changing.

But I answered pretty quick.

"My daughter."

She's the best part of me right now. And maybe that is because of her padded cheeks or darkening brown eyes, or how she smiles at me when I am not looking at her. And maybe it's because she rolls the entire length of our living room while I am cleaning up our house. And maybe it's because she likes to put her head in between my chin and clavicle and go to sleep. And maybe it's because she smells good.

Probably all those things.

But in times like this in my life when I am not so easy on myself, when I feel disappointed at the little things I can't seem to conquer, or the uncomfortableness I feel in my bubbly body, I know she is satisfied with me. She likes what I produce and man, it shows.

My goodness babies are a Godsend.


Post Edit- After some discussion I decided to take down that first photo of me holding Ever (previously posted). Though I am quite bubbly, Chup's wide angle made me even more so, and well, I need all the help I can get.
Tonight while looking through photos I found the black and white one above which I felt was more suited to the story. I love her even when she is fussy face.




I am c jane and I'd like to hear from you, what is the best part of you right now?
Leave a comment here, Facebook or Blog Frog.  Heck, you can even email me:
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To Mom & Dad in St. Louis: Fruity

Are you sitting down?

Good.

Because you might fall over when I show you these photos of the fruit of my womb:









Mom, you were right. Being with your children is home.

Thanks for the St. Louis adventure.

Love you both!
Court

The First Ever (Possibly) Chocodile Birthday Cake with Balloons!

This was Chup's birthday:

The Chief and I secretly picked up a dozen balloons in his favorite colors before he woke up in the morning. We don't do fancy birthday decor around here mostly because I am lazy and also because balloons are pretty awesome on their own.

And later we had The Birthday Cake--a homage to two things really: Chup's recent fling with Chocodiles and Carina's Charlotte (two things that may slide to either side on the classy cake scale).

(I feel kind of naked now that you've seen the inside of my fridge.F.Y.I The Hershey Bars are for s'mores to make for my sister in law Lindsay who just gave birth to my niece Vera. You must have s'mores after giving birth, or before, or four months later or four months after that . . .)

I had to remind Chup that he now has 39 candles to blow out which means we have to buy two boxes of candles to have enough for his cake. I am sure that made him feel better about having one year left until he is OVER THE HILL!!! !!  !!!!! !

Is it weird to claim I look forward to his midlife crisis?

It's going to be a blast.



p.s. I know you are going to want the recipe for that cake of divine conception BUT I hate to inform you this: it's all in the genius head of Azucar. (I didn't nickname her Sugar for nothin'.)

p.p.s. Yes The Chief was pant-less most of the day--it's a carefree way of celebrating a birthday! Try it on your big day next time it rolls around. Thank me then.

Happy Birthday Chup A. Cabre!

A year or so into our marriage Chup was hit with a major conflict in his career. He was given two parts in two movies that were shooting at the same time. One was in Idaho, the other in Utah. Both were being made by his good friends and both had enticing possibilities to go big.

The first script offered to him was a small part in a teenage comedy directed by one of Chup's favorite people on this planet. The second script was offering him the title role--a teenage drama about an inspiring teacher in a high school. I don't know the rules of acting, but I think all things considered, an actor gravitates for the bigger role. But maybe I am wrong.

So Chup accepted the second script.

The film shot in a ginormous high school in south Salt Lake valley. He was shooting for a couple days and one day he asked if I wanted to come up and see him. This was a major conflict in our marriage, because I didn't like being on set. It was my living nightmare.

Because being on set brings out super insecurities about me. Because people on set take their jobs really seriously and I feel out of context. Because being on set requires you to be quiet. Absolutely quiet, and I was always worried that I'd be watching a scene and an accidental body noise would come out of me and everyone would look at me exasperated like, "You know how much money that hiccup just cost us?"

Hiccup, burp or . . . you know.

It's really intense and being on set makes me feel like I have disappeared.

But I accepted his offer.

The day I went on set I found him in front of lights and cameras with a push broom and a couple of teenage punks. They would do their scene and someone would yell "Cut!" and then all sorts of ladies would jump all over my husband, touching up his make up, "Your skin is perfect Chris!" getting him water, "Do you like designer water or tap, Chris?" going over lines, "In the next scene you will say 'It's okay Josh, I've been there too, be strong man.' Ok Chris?"

I don't even call him Chris.

And I sat there melting in the heat of feeling stupid wondering, what am I doing here? Until finally the director yelled, "We're taking a break!" which is when Chris waved off all the attentive women and walked towards me, took my hand and said, "Let's go find a place."

So we walked out of set and out into this ginormous high school and over to the auditorium where we climbed stairs to the balcony and sat there for awhile. Just sat there. I think he was decomposing his character so he could be him. The guy that auditioned for me and got the part.

And then, well, we made out.

I am going to write this next paragraph whilst battling a lumpy throat but: I guess I am telling this story because it's the way our relationship works. His security is enough to overcome my insecurities. And when I am feeling horribly inefficient or tired or stressed or confused, I envision myself with him, finding a place. And when we are alone, I climb on his lap--with my body completely folded up on his legs--and he wraps his big arms around me and we just sit there decomposing our characters. I really hope this is what heaven feels like, because it's the safest place my mind can reach. Gosh I am crying like a goat right now.

Happy Birthday Chup.






*thanks Jed Wells for this photo. Did I ever tell you I was six months pregnant when we shot these? With Chris' baby no less.




I am c jane and I don't think we ever saw the film Chup shot that day. But the second script? The one Chup passed on? It went big.
contact me:
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It's A Good Thing I Forgive So Easily . . .

Today I got this video message in my inbox. It's from Brooke White. She was supposed to be the headliner for our first c jane presents rooftop concert series but then something happened, something she "can't talk about right now" and she won't be able to come. It's ok because Benton Paul is going to bring it hot with all sorts of shenanigans to light up the stage. And we are going to have a gorgeous time. Don't you worry. Even you Australia people who can't come anyway.

But I've got to be honest with you, I was a little disappointed with this video message. I mean, it's sort of blah. Like, where the heck is her motorized couch?







I am c jane and I forgive BUT I NEVER FORGET!!!
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S.O.S Ashlee

I was tired, alright?

So tired I didn't crawl into bed, I fell. I fell flat on my face up against my pillow and went comatose within seconds. But I didn't know about the all night party The Chief and Ever had planned for me. Yahoo! Party upstairs! So it didn't last long, this coma, because a short time later I was serving milky drinks to the two and under crowd until the sun came up.

And when that sun came up, so did my hair.

I was tired, (remember?) the night before and didn't make the seemingly giant effort to take the twin braids out of my hair. So when I woke up I had what you might call Viking Hair. Sorta like this.

Except, replace the horns with a sizeable rat's nest and minus the mustache (although I wouldn't put it past my hormone infrequency these days) then add back in the scowl. That's about right. Thanks Minnesota.

But I did what any serious mother does, I forgot about my Viking hair and got up, got dressed and got a bowl of Cheerios. And ate them.

Nearing ten o'clock I retreated outside to see what on earth was making my kitchen dishes shake. It turns out there was a big dump truck across the street dumping something that excited The Chief. As we were watching this rivoting display of dumping, my neighbor Janna stopped by.

I greeted her as I always do because she is just about the best neighbor in the world.

And she greeted me back.

And we talked.

And I looked over to see what The Chief was doing and caught a glimpse of my shadow against the sidewalk.

Oops. I had forgotten about my hair. It looked like I had a fuzzy two-legged octopus on my head who had given birth to seventy three other fuzzy octopus babies.

"I forgot about my hair," I said to Janna reaching up to press down on the increase.

"It's fine," she said, like she acknowledged that yes, my hair was spawning octopus babies but it's fine, no big deal.

Best neighbor in the world eh? What did I tell you?

Later around one o'clock Chup brought his friend Ryan home after they had a business lunch. I was on the floor of the green room, cleaning out my holiday decoration box (you all have one too, I know) and singing at lung capacity to Vampire Weekend. When they opened the door and saw me there I felt like I was a teenager again getting caught singing in the mirror when I thought no one was watching (you all did it too, I know).

"Hey guys," I said playing it cool.

"Hey," Ryan said back avoiding eye contact.

But we talked anyway, about his children, child bearing and women's birthing hips in this decade. He brought that up, not me. By the way.

I went to toss something in the garbage and caught another glimpse of me in the mirror.

Ooops. I had forgotten about my hair again. It looked like I had been hit by lightning. Twice. Maybe three times. And each strand appeared to be hoarding electricity. It looked like trampoline hair.

"I forgot about my hair," I said to Ryan.

"It's fine," he said like, I am glad I'm not married to you, but I am sure it's fine for Chup.

But I wasn't so sure about that. Tonight as I was looking through Chup's photos of the day I noticed he had secretly shot a photo of my Viking Electric Octopus Hair while I was at my desk.

"I forgot about my hair," I said to Chup upon viewing this photo.

"It's fine," he said, like he actually liked it.

And maybe I was still too tired to know better, but I believed him.





I am c jane and here are some photos I found while googling "Viking Hair":




contact me:
cjanemail@gmail.com

I Hope This Makes You Happy

Hey You.

I love you. I do. I am a wee bit tired tonight. I had to rock Ever through a turbulent three-hour plane ride (why do I still feel like I am on that plane bouncing around?) But I wanted to make sure that tonight, or tomorrow or next Saturday--whenever you read this--that I have done something to cheer your soul. A gift wrapped up in internet--if you will. That is why I am going to bow out of writing tonight and instead post this Jed Well's video of my friend Sarah Sample at a famous taco shop (Diego's) here in Provo. Sarah is a singer songwriter with a new album coming out produced by Scott Wiley and it is my kind of music. Also seen in this video is Ryan Keep It Simple Tanner and Paul Auto Delivery Jacobsen and a couple other musically minded folk. That makes a whole company of my most talented friends working together on one project.

And you know, my friends are your friends:

Three things I wish for in my life:
1. Hair to my bumline (or waistline, whichever comes first . . .)
2. Life supply of Jess Simp shoes.
3. Sarah Sample's voice.


Is that a tall order for a short girl???


p.s. if you want another gift to unwrap listen to Apocalypse Wow by Paul Jacobsen & The Madison Arm.




I am c jane and add a good night's sleep to that list. Number four.
contact me:
cjanemail@gmail.com

Post Cards from St. Louis (3)

Tomorrow: shopping at the Plaza Frontenac, Italian on The Hill with Callie and an airplane ride home.



I am c jane and this trip has gone too fast.
contact me:
cjanemail@gmail.com

On My Parent's Bed

Death:

After Ever went down to sleep tonight I crawled in bed with my mom and dad. It's one of those things I really miss about having my parents across the country, just the lounging and the talking.

I asked my mom to tell me about her little brother Jeffery. Jeffery was born with some complications and had Down's Syndrome. He lived for five months and passed away of pneumonia one night in his sleep. Of course I had heard this story before, but not since I had grown a mother's heart. Some of the details were so incredibly heart-breaking I can't even write them down now as I formulate this post. My heavens, I cried like I was five on my parent's bed.

"We knew Jeffery was in a better place, and that we would see him again when he was healthy," my mother told me as I lay there wiping my wet face.

Then I had to go back upstairs and check to see Ever's little chest rising and falling.


Birth:

Today we went to a baptism for two people, Linda and Shawn. While I've been out here running around the city, enjoy the vacation I've dreamed of, my dad has been working. His job is to preside over 180 or so missionaries, oversee their physical and spiritual needs so they can go out and teach those who want to be baptized. Like Linda and Shawn.

They were glowing today. Linda had light pouring out of her and Shawn declared, "Jesus saved me!"

It was Linda's son Chris who initially told her about the church. He sent the missionaries over to teach her and his little brother. After the baptism was over the family cried and embraced each other. I will never forget it.


Between:

Yesterday my mom and I saw Bill Viola's Visitation at the St. Louis Art Museum. Visitation is video art, on a long plasma screen. There are two female figures in a gray fuzzy picture who are cautiously walking towards something. As the women get closer into view, you see them cross a veil of water and appear in High Definition and color. The crossing of the veil is so vivid and gorgeous it pulled at something eternal inside of me.

After they cross, one woman starts to cry in horror as the other one looks on peacefully.

And then they go back. Black-and-white figures walking away.

After we watched we decided to go see the contemporary art collection. We saw a few paintings--Gauguin inspired no doubt--and my mom turned to me and said, "Let's go see Visitation again."

So we did. Then we left the museum because we were pretty sure we saw what we were meant to see. The piece was so moving it would've been hard to interpret anything else. Later as my mom tried to explain it to my dad she cried.



When I go home on Monday I will have so many indelible memories of this trip, but these three might be the strongest of them all.

Post Cards from St. Louis (2)

p.s. A reader asked about my parent's name tag. What does it say? Here is a close-up:

President Clark

(my mom's says Sister Clark)

Missouri St. Louis Mission

The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints

(the official name of the Mormon church)
It's their missionary name tag and they wear it all times, except not to bed. Pretty sure.






I am c jane and I like Missouri rainstorms. I also like Winslow's Home, Citygarden,
Blueberry Hill and the Delmar Loop. Only why is it called a loop? I don't know.
contact me:
cjanemail@gmail.com

Post Cards from St. Louis (1)

On the sched for tomorrow: The Loop, Forest Park, more food and a museum for the culture count.

This post wouldn't have been possible without the help of Leanna and Lauren from Bittersweet.

I am c jane, and I am wondering if the font I used on the photos is too cutesy.
contact me:
cjanemail@gmail.com