Julie and Julia, duh

This isn’t a blog.  Well, technically it is. (Helloooo out there ‘giant void’!) But it’s essentially the online version of ideas that are swirling around in my head as I write this damn book proposal.

My half-assed disclaimer: This has more to do with my own health and mental well-being than proposal-ing the Hip Girls Guide to Homemaking, but I cannot fail to mention the great movie that dropped today: Julie and Julia. [I’m not going to link to it because if you haven’t heard about it, then you’re not even reading this blog right now.]

So. First, you must see the film. It’s charming and endearing. And also aimed at my own target demographic, myself and probably you, too.

As a nobody writer (sorta blogger) nearing the big 3-0 myself, with the ever present 300 pound monkey on my back, i.e. “What are you doing with your life?” I am impressed by the relentless nature and uniting powers of this existential crisis. It never goes away. Generations, centuries of confusion about how to make ourselves useful to the greater world (even my beloved Victorian novels stir up the underpinnings of this.) People do drugs, work themselves silly, have children (of course they do all these things for a plethora of reasons) often to avoid facing this question. It seems like we’ve universally lost touch with our true loves; what is it that YOU (minus all the TV, your peers and predatory marketeers) truly love?

I’m further pleased to see how the parallels between Julia and Julie have less to do with food, than a way of life. I loved and really noticed Julie’s home in the movie. It was meticulously thoughtful. Yes, I know it’s a movie set, but that’s the whole point. They lived on the cheap, but made the place exquisitely homey. From the old-time mirror, imperfectly foggy to the room-divider shelf.

I’m not really a foodie, though I thoroughly value and appreciate food and it’s fundamentals, I’m more of a Life-y. I draw my circle wider than food. There are ways to maintain quality of life measures that are affordable for even the starving artist; it’s called controlled consumption.

Sometimes I feel like tight budgets make people generally feel like they have to buy cheaper things. How about rearranging your life to make room for quality? As a Life-y, my strict budget only demands I make wiser choices about my consumption as opposed to facing the compromised integrity of my dinner, my surroundings, even my shoes. I buy less stuff so that I can afford to buy stuff that’s better for me (or the planet or the billions of other humans on this planet.)

As I descend from my soapbox (thanks for indulging me this) I grant you a homework assignment:

Take yourself out on a you-date. Just you. Think about something you love, and brainstorm ways you might incorporate this into your daily life.

morning is fun because of this little pretty

It can be as simple as a teacup that makes you smile every day.

(This you-date concept is totally stolen from The Artist’s Way, by the way; she calls it the Artist Date, I think.)

I’m really good at me-dates now. They help me figure out how to stay on track with contributing something useful to this world.