Marshall & Julie: Day 8

4 08 2010

Again, let me know you’re out there!  A comment or a read is much appreciated … I put my heart and soul into this project, and I really think you should give it a chance.  Interest seems to have slowly weaned, which really breaks my heart.  Don’t make me shame you into reading … you can’t hear the teardrops hitting my keyboard.  KIDDING!

But really, you should read this series.

Day 8: “They Shoot Lobsters, Don’t They?” /  “They Read Blogs, Don’t They?”

Oh my word.  It’s 11:13 P.M. on July 24, four days before the “Marshall & Julie” series is scheduled to begin on my blog.  My plan was to have the entire thing finished before I posted the first installment, but each second the clock in the upper right hand corner of my MacBook ticks is a second closer to that plan failing – and to me, even more failure than my original 14-days-straight plan.

I got back from Wilderness on July 3rd, fully knowing that I had 25 days to finish up the project – which included reading the last four chapters (and 8 page epilogue of sorts) and writing responses for those and the other three I had read beforehand.  But apparently my school year self is still living inside my summer self, and I went the route of procrastination.  So here goes nothing.  It’s an all-out “Marshall & Julie” blitz for the next four days.  It’s going to be rough considering that I have an internal deadline to finish a college application tomorrow and I volunteer all morning at a Vacation Bible School.

Alas, we go onto Julie, who returns home to Texas to find herself in an encounter with an elderly aunt who has caught onto her blog.  She’s a little frightened by having a relative, particularly a more senior one, reading her chronicles.  But the only thing that aunt says to her is, “You’re worrying your mother.  Don’t work so hard!”

I have plenty of family members who read my blog.  My dad is one of my four email subscribers, and he pretty much reads everything.  During finals, I had to strategically time my posts to publish so that he didn’t think I was writing when I should have been studying (and don’t get the wrong idea because I actually WAS studying).  My mom has my site bookmarked on her computer.  My grandma reads quite a bit and comments on occasion.  But reading a blog for her is hardly the most technologic activity she partakes in – she has a Facebook.

Various aunts, uncles, and cousins read and comment, and I’m not ashamed that they will read what I write.  I don’t write anything that’s going to make anyone look like a bad person, not myself nor anyone I care about.  I kindly left out my tale of how I didn’t make it to midnight “Inception” for that very reason because I wouldn’t want anyone to assume I held certain people in a negative regard.  Ask me what happened and I still won’t tell you – at least not in cyberspace.

In Mastering the Art of French Cooking, Julie gets to the meat of the book, requiring that she end the lives of crustaceans and other creatures.  I find it surprising that she showed such sadness at dismembering these animals, calling the chapter of her project “a murderous rampage.”  After all, she does come from Texas, the state that probably has more members of the PETA that stands for “People for the Eating of Tasty Animals.”  (And someone I know actually has that bumper sticker on their car.)

Although I have never killed a lobster, I can relate to the experience of having to do something miserable in the name of the thing I love.  For quite some time now, I’ve been on a quest to watch every movie nominated for a major Oscar during the first decade of the 2000s (I have to call them that because they don’t have a good name).  There have been plenty of movies that I haven’t wanted to watch, and so many that I have wanted to turn off but didn’t because I knew I had to watch them all the way through.  Cough, “Whale Rider.”

Julie follows up her “rampage” by completely detoxing, not cooking or blogging for five straight days.  In addition to putting her behind in the Project, it enrages her fans, who commented like crazy wondering why she had fallen off the face of the planet.  I write something every day, no matter how small, so my readers have no idea when I fall off the face of the planet to go and study or be really busy – unless, of course, they make a conscious effort to see what’s going on.

I can understand taking a break from blogging because I know that I’ve sure wanted to do just that on occasion.  The rush for content, content, and more content gets really tiring.  You always have to be thinking ahead and staying on top of things to remain relevant.

But taking a break from movies – don’t think I could.  Sure, I go on week-long Young Life trips every summer with no access to movies and I survive.  I’ve been to a two-week long summer camp and made it fine without them.  I spent three weeks in Argentina this January with just my iPod and some crummy TV edited stuff on the tube to satisfy me.  And I can do it in circumstances when I know I need to pull myself away, yet quitting cold turkey with all the stuff you need around you to do what you are passionate about just seems crazy to me.

After those five days, she gets back to cooking after a struggle with her mother requires the intervention of her siblings.  After making a nice meal for New Year’s Eve, she flies home to New York knowing full well that she has to kill a lobster.  She considers quitting because she has to do something that she doesn’t want to.  But she sticks with it because blogging adds a dimension to her life, and without it, things would seem a whole lot more flat.

I’ve never given any serious thought to quitting, although I have wondered when I’m going to call this thing off.  I’m not planning on that being anytime soon, but I challenged myself to look beyond the very near future.  Will I be blogging whenever I have a wife to take care of?  When I have full-time job?  Will I give up time to be with my child so I can write a movie review?  If it remains a passion, then eventually I’d have to either quit or go cold turkey.  If I could make it a profession, then obviously I’d make it work.  Looking at just the very near future, I couldn’t see myself not blogging.  It’s just become a part of me, and I can’t imagine seeing a movie and then not coming home and writing a review.

At the end of the chapter, the article on Julie in the Christian Science Monitor finally runs, and her boss gets a hold of it.  He gives her a light reprimand for mentioning her workplace before giving her a creepy wink and telling her that he read her site.

Which brings me to the only group I’d be interested (or scared) to see if they read – my teachers.  I’ve had an article published about my site and I in the school newspaper, and that would probably be the only way they would know.  I don’t bring it up in class, largely because I don’t want them to think I have some higher priority than their class.  Who knows how long they might think I spend writing for it each night?

And there’s all sorts of … interesting sexual stuff going on in this chapter, none of which I wish to comment on or relate to my life.  If you’re so curious, go do Julie a favor and go buy her book and read the chapter.

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3 responses

5 08 2010
Whitney

I’m reading, I’m reading!

5 08 2010
Simon/Ripley

Calmn down, sir, I read.

Seriously, fuck Whale Rider.

8 08 2010
Red

I’m certain that teachers would think that this is better than hundreds of other things that a kid be doing with his off-time. If I was a teacher, especially an English teacher, I would be estatic that a student was taking interest in such a thing.

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