Monthly Archives: March 2007


I came home today and informed Paul why I’ve been so tired lately. I think it’s because I haven’t been drinking caffeine after my two cups before I leave for work at 7:30am. “Because,” I said, “after I got my afternoon mocha…”

Paul shook his head and smiled indulgently. “And how did you feel after that?” he asked.

“Productive!” I said. Which is true. I zipped through a dozen tasks in an hour, and went home somewhat on time. Work has just drained me this week, and I’ve been coming home and more or less collapsing. Today, thanks to that PM caffeine burst, I had enough energy to go to grocery shopping after work and pick up components of a major salad. I haven’t been able to do that all week – I’ve been coming home, eating a sandwich, and falling asleep by 9pm. (I wake up at 6am. 9pm is not all that early)

I suppose the point of all this is that I, again, owe journal entries on our trip to New Orleans, and if it comes down to pasting in the emails I wrote to girlfriends upon return, I’ll do that. Of course, there are pix up on my Flickr page ( It was a very different trip than ones I’ve taken in the past. And it was wonderful.

more rambling about generally missing british columbia

i think i can sleep now

OK, after ninety minutes of work/LJing/drinking a glass of merlot in the W Hotel New Orleans’ “living room”, I think I can go upstairs and sleep now.

My fiance is totally passed out, for the record. Fell asleep hours ago. Which is why I’m all alone & having to amuse myself by sneaking into my work email. Of course, I’m up because I’ve been taking extra doses of Wellbutrin to make it through 12 hour days AT my office. Combined with the daylight savings time, which always makes me more energetic, I’m too manic to sleep.

So, now, I can finally go curl up with Paul, and get some sleep. Or so I hope.

G’night everybody!

Protected: pesky mania

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Protected: an engagement photo of sorts

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look! i’m using my history degree!

EDIT: The piece is up now – click on the link below. It’s on the myth that the auto industry killed the streetcars in L.A.

I just finished a two-thousand word piece on the #1 urban myth in Los Angeles. Which is the most use I’ve gotten out of what I learned in my history degree since I graduated in 2003.

My entry won’t go live until 3:15pm tomorrow. But in the meantime, the rest of the legends (including the other two I wrote) are here:

Also, I can still crank out an eight page paper (12 point Times Roman, double-spaced) in three hours. I haven’t lost that skill.

more GTD!

OMG. So I just found this site:

and it RULES. Seriously.

I’m trying to get to the Next Level of GTD, which is implementing daily and weekly reviews. Right now, I start my day by feeling like a million things are coming at me at once, and, being unable to deal with it, I procrastinate. It is not good. Especially not since my account load has doubled in the last couple months, and I’m dealing with new clients, new projects…and the responsibility of working directly with higher-ups more often.

Work rules, but I’m having trouble ruling work. I’m trying to make sure things don’t slip through the cracks, and it’s tough. A couple years ago, I thought I could remember everything – now, I know, I can’t. And finding ways to store and organize information, or to remind myself of actions and followups, is a constant challenge. But I tell myself how far I’ve come, that I have gone from being a disorganized, unreliable employee to being a highly valued, dependable member of a team. And as I develop more GTD kung fu, it will only get better.

Another useful link, if you’re re-disciplining (as I am) (or disciplining for the first time) on GTD, check out:

This is a list of “triggers” to get you thinking about the initial “brain dump” you will need to start GTD. I find it immensely helpful. And it reminds you, just how much you may have at the back of your mind, taking up space that could be used to do useful things.

faith & devotion :: the mariage proposal

Many people have asked me to tell and re-tell the story of how my fiance asked me to marry him. Including my boss, today, when I showed her the ring. It is something that my co-workers and friends – especially women – want to hear.

Thursday, I knew my boyfriend was going to ask me to marry him because he called me at my office, and asked what I was doing that night. “Why?” I asked.

“Just because I want to take my beautiful girlfriend out to a romantic dinner,” he said.

Paul never calls me at work. He emails me. When he calls to be sure that I’m free so he can make reservations for the romantic French bistro in Pasadena we frequent, I know he’s Up To Something. And immediately, butterflies hit my stomach, and I realized that this was it. He was actually going to ask me to marry him. And I’d been expecting it – hell, we’d been pseudo engaged for weeks – but I still got an adrenaline shot thinking of it.

So we went for dinner, and it was lovely. Crepe&Vine in Pasadena is one of our favorite restaurants, and it’s perfect for romantic meals. There was much gazing into each others eyes and cooing at each other and general sappiness. Fortunately, it’s the sort of place where there’s at least a few couples mooning over each other like we do. And although it was hard, I kept my mouth shut and didn’t ask about what my boyfriend was planning. I had my herb-encrusted salmon, and my divine chocolate mousse, and a glass of red wine, and tried not to think too much about where the evening was going.

We came home, and I went to take off my heels and go to the bathroom. And when I came out, Paul had shut the doors to the living room. Finally, he opened them to show what he’d done. He had lit candles and set out a dozen longstem roses on the coffee table. There was a bottle of merlot on the bookshelf. And when I walked in, he cued up the TIVO’s music function. I met Paul when he came to dance with me at Bar Sinister, emboldened by the Chameleons UK’s “Swamp Thing”. So when the first guitar strains came on, I felt my heart leap – not just at the nostalgia, but that he had thought to put the song on. The first question that this song triggered was unspoken, because both of us agreed to dance with each other before he even got across the dance floor. This would be the second question set to this song (and music is SO important to us) and it would definitely be asked, out loud.

The song came on in full, and Paul told me how much he loved me. And by the time he actually got down on one knee and asked me to marry him, I was weeping so hard that I could barely get the “yes” out. And then he put the ring on my left hand, and asked, “Wait. You did say yes, right?”

Yes. Of course I did. Like I would have ever considered saying anything else. When you get Princess Bride style true love, “yes” is the only answer that exists.

So when I told this story to my boss today, she listened, and then said to me, “you know, you have it all. You really do.”

I know. I know perfectly well how wonderful my future husband is. Because Paul is. He’s one of those few perfectly pure, nice, kind humans, for whom helping others is second nature. He’s unquestionably loyal to the people in his life. He is serious his beliefs, ideals & values. He’s brilliant in his own right, especially in the fields he’s most passionate about. He’s got a good sense of humor, which relies on the ridiculous and the one-liner as much as mine does. He’s cute, and I still just look at him and think how good looking my fiance is. And, of course, he loves me, and loves being with him, as I do with him. I wake up happy to see him in the mornings, and go to sleep happy to be curled up against him at night. He makes me want to be better than I am, in everything I do. He gives me hope that I’ll always be this happy. And most importantly of all, I will always have someone to mock things with.

So yes, I have it all – because I do have a love of my life I love this much. As I said, on Thursday, I have had doubts about everything in my life. Almost nothing is an easy decision. Except this. I have absolutely no doubts that I want to spend the rest of my life with Paul. That makes me happier than anything else I could imagine. Seeing that diamond on my finger, feeling the ring’s weight, is a constant symbol of the devotion that we’re lucky enough to have to each other. And for the rest of my life, I will cry when I hear “Swamp Thing”.

y’arrr. thar be bootie.

Last week, heathervescent posted that she would be doing another performance at Bootie. Last time, it was Hollaback Thriller. This time, it was the Material Mouseketeers. It’ll all make sense once the video is up, I promise.
But still, it gave me and my mini-posse – fellow tall Jewish girls Amanda and Wendy – a chance to hit Bootie and shake ours, and we LOVED it. Seriously. From the moment we walked in to the club, we danced, right up until we left two hours later. We walked in to a mash-up of Satisfactions – the Benny Benassi track mixed with the Rolling Stones version – and found the floor of the Echo packed. And it was packed with all styles and subcultures, all people in their twenties and thirties all having the time of their lives dancing. I may love, love, love dancing at the goth clubs, but it’s even more fun to just go shake it to something funky/catchy, all mixed up for sometimes hilarious results, in a non-goth environment. It’s why I love going to the Lotus when I’m up in Vancouver, and it’s why I’ll make it to Bootie again ASAP if it kills me. Seriously. I’m sure the pix will be up on to show just how much fun I was having.

I did also leave Paul at home last night – it was a girls’ night, after all. Plus, he was tired. Besides, we’re spending the rest of our lives together. Which has more to it than just the two of us – his parental units called to “welcome me to the family” on Saturday. His mom also wanted to start talking about the wedding. Thankfully, with all my obsessing over throwing a perfect, eco-friendly, Victorian-and-goth-inspired, wedding in Canada lately, I’ve got a lot of the initial planning already out of the way. I have a preliminary list of venues to check out, between my online research and my mom’s networking. I explained to Paul’s mom that we would deal with catering and booze once we booked a venue, depending on whether or not we would be using the venue caterer and barstaff, or outsourcing, hiring caterers and barstaff ourselves. I explained that we planned to get our engagement announcements once we have photos (that are non-goth), that I’ll have save-the-dates out next January with hotel and travel details, and that I will get invitations out next spring. And, most importantly, I convinced her I was serious because I have external help. cracksmurf is PM for my wedding, but for non-ACF fluent people (parents and co-workers, mostly), I call him my wedding coordinator. And the sheer existence of a wedding coordinator calmed my future MIL right down. I didn’t mention that my wedding coordinator is best known for running awesome rock concerts and mixing Muppet show clips into his DJ sets. I just told her that he was going to work on all the stuff like heat lamps and lighting if we needed it, sound systems, technical details.

Paul’s mom was somewhat impressed – which is good. I want her thinking that her oldest son is marrying a somewhat capable woman, who has her act together enough to also reproduce and not, say, misplace a kid. She called me an “organized little devil,” which I found adorable. I love my future MIL – I’m insanely lucky – and I would prefer to demonstrate organization and competency. Plus, it says something to me that I, Jillian, have somehow managed to pull myself together. Could I have pulled off a wedding in my mindset of two years ago, pre-GTD, without, say, losing it and assembling favors right up until 4am the night before? No. The fact that I’m timelining my whole wedding and project managing it enough to address every single one of my future MIL’s concerns shows me that I get my act together more and more all the time.

Now, if I can just demonstrate those skills at work and be two steps ahead of the boss in the same way, I will RULE.

And for that, sleep might be a good idea.


Originally uploaded by rain queen.

A picture says a thousand words, even though a proposal only takes five.

Specifically, “Jillian, will you marry me?”