Being means: not numbering and counting, but ripening like a tree, which doesn?t force its sap, and stands confidently in the storms of spring, not afraid that afterward summer may not come. It does come. But it comes only to those who are patient, who are there as if eternity lay before them, so unconcernedly silent and vast. I learn it every day of my life, learn it with pain I am grateful for: patience is everything!
We are called to be fruitful - not successful, not productive, not accomplished. Success comes from strength, stress, and human effort. Fruitfulness comes from vulnerability and the admission of our own weakness. sometimes...i read lovely stuff. sometimes...not.
So the thing is that I need to book shop.
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If we do not bear the cross of the Master, we will have to bear the cross of the world, with all its earthly goods. Which cross have you taken up? Pause and consider. i would die without my iPodNPR - "This American Life "
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There are many people who are sincere without being simple: they are ever afraid of being seen for what they are not; they are always musing over their words and thoughts and thinking about what they have done, in fear of having done or said too much. These people are sincere, but they are not simple: they are not at ease with others, and other people are not at ease with them. There is nothing easy about them, nothing free, spontaneous or natural. People who are imperfect, less regular, less masters of themselves, are more lovable. This is how people find them, and it is the same with God.

i am never satisfiedNew Jeans

or anything from my wishlist

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A brother said to an old man, ?I do not know of any warfare in my heart.? The old man said to him, ?Then you are a building open on all four sides. Whatever wishes to, goes in and out, and you do not notice. If you had windows and a door, and shut them so as to bar certain thoughts, you would soon realize how many there are outside, waiting to slip in and attack you.?

i fear fatrun 2, abs 300, bike 30 min.

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I know that life is a doorway to eternity, and yet my heart so often gets lost in petty anxieties. It forgets the great way home that lies before it. Unprepared, given over to childish trivialities, it could be taken by surprise when the great hour comes and find that, for the sake of piffling pleasures, the one great joy has been missed. I am aware of this, but my heart is not. It seems unteach- navigate around, why don't you?
what i wrote yesterday
back to the homepage
everything ever. sort of.
sometimes...poetry
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you are not a warlock, wizard, fairy or elf
i attend a neil gaiman signing
posted on: 10/6/05
original post date: 10/1/05

"Where are you right now, Jocelyn?" you ask.

Partying in LA? Partying on the Strip? Haivng a fine dinner with RJB? Visiting loved ones in SF or PA? Traveling to exotic locations? Seeing fine films?

Nope. I'm at a Neil Gaiman signing in Pasadena. And yes, I’m a fan, but I'm not a fan like most of these people are fans.

In front of me, a woman is wearing a yellow medieval gown, which matches her dyed black hair perfectly and coordinates with the yellow shirt her boyfriend is wearing. He is dressed to resemble a 1930's stockbroker but with a pair of Converse on.

Not far away, two young lads are dressed as characters from Clockwork Orange. And bad on me for assuming they were trying to dress like Jack White. It's all derivitive anyway. Kari tells me it's probably both: The kids are doing what we call a mash-up.

There's a lot of black clothing. A lot. There's a whole dress code going on here that I am not a part of in my orange halter top and Britney jeans. And to be honest, I'm okay with that.

Those guys are in front of us. You know who I mean. The guys having the loud conversation about their latest Magic the Gathering battle and their Batman figurines. And these guys are in their late twenties, so there's nothing that makes that anything other than what he is.

Another guy is proudly proclaiming his geekdom by wearing a grey t-shirt emblazoned with the message “Department of the Unathletics.” OHMYGOD that’s SEXY and FUNNY.

Number of black trench coats counted: 7

Number of fedoras counted: 4

Number of fairy tattoos counted: 3 (but I’m sure more are hidden)

Number of boys I would like to bundle up, take to the Gap and then introduce to a martini: 11

Number of triple knotted pony tails counted: 1 (but it was on a MAN)

Number of moccasin boots: 1

The evening ends with a lovely moment being in the center of Neil Gaiman's energy while he signs, but unfortunately before that there were those boys who wanted to tell us about how cool it was to have the Clap. I mean...for REAL.

You know, just to point it out, you are not that cool either.
So how is the book?
Copyright 2004, 2005 Jocelyn Saurini
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