NonSociety – Live Differently. Julia Allison Internet Enthusiast

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Apr 29, 10 1:26am

My Existential Crisis (& What I’ve Been Doing for the Past Eight Months)

So, I’ve sublet my apartment to a lovely young woman (a reader!) who works for a wonderful non-profit, and I will be taking some time off New York.  That probably sounds more dramatic than it actually is, as those of you who follow my travel schedule know that I haven’t spent more than three consecutive weeks in this city for the last two and a half years anyway … so what’s a month away in the scheme of things?

That said, it’s an important move for me, psychologically.  As much as I love this city - and I do love it - I’ve struggled for some time with it just not feeling quite … right.  If you’re thinking “That’s vague!” you’re echoing my thoughts.  I can’t exactly pinpoint what it is that bothers me - although I think a few factors weigh in: my small apartment (which was fantastic … for the first two years.  Less so the third.), the lack of nature (I’m sorry, as fabulous as it is, Central Park doesn’t count.  There’s something about human bodies covering every square inch that negates the “wilderness” value for me.), and a ragingly ambitious energy that I found intoxicating for the first five years … and exhausting for the last ten months.  I’m just burnt out.

Until quite recently, I was one of those people who never even considered moving from New York.  And truthfully, there is still a good probability I may not ever go through with leaving.  But last October, a few things happened simultaneously that led me down the path of “locational uncertainty” I have now traveled for the past seven months.  1) my lease was up  2) I no longer had anything “tying” me to New York - no physical location where I had to show up every day  3) I was dating Toph, who lived in LA and (this was most important) 4) I shot a pilot/presentation as a co-host for a new entertainment news show on E!, which required me to sign a three year deal in advance, a deal which would (obviously) require me to move to LA. [Read here for a more detailed explanation of the entertainment type stuff]

E! had a 60 day option on me, which meant that at ANY point during November or December, I could get a phone call which would require me to be in LA the next week to start my new hosting gig. That means from mid-October through late December, I had one foot out of the New York door.  You might have wondered why I constantly talked about LA back then.  Well.  That was why.

Now, my agent will probably kill me for saying this, but the truth is, I was very ambivalent about the job.  E! is a powerful name brand in the entertainment world, and a seductive one at that.  But reporting on celebrities for a living is NOT good for me.  I tried it.  It made me feel really bad - judgmental and holier than thou, when I’m NOT.  I don’t like people making judgments about my own life, but somehow it was okay if I did, because they were celebrities??  It just seemed really hypocritical.

Listen, I still do occasional entertainment segments - like talking about J. Lo’s box office take last weekend on MSNBC.  But there’s a difference between that and celebrity muckraking - berating Britney for her latest mishap, endlessly discussing Tiger Woods’ affairs, going on and on about the end of Sandra Bullock’s marriage … I don’t know.  The whole thing makes me really uncomfortable.  That’s why I didn’t want to continue at STAR magazine.  I was getting all this crap for my personal life, and it occurred to me (duh) that I was a TOTAL hypocrite.  I wanted people who didn’t know me to stop talking as if they did - so how could I go on air and pretend I knew “the truth” behind Jennifer Aniston & John Mayer’s breakup??  I don’t!  I have no idea what really happened there!  Moreover, it’s NONE OF MY BUSINESS.  It’s none of ANYONE’S business!!!

I still feel that way - in fact, I had a meeting with an exec at E! when I was last in LA, and he asked whether I wanted to be an entertainment reporter, and I said “No, I’d really like to be more of a big sister ‘live your best life’ type host.”  That meeting ended very, very quickly.  ;)  ha

That said, lord knows I still glance at the tabloids when I’m at the corner bodega.  I know I shouldn’t.  But I just don’t want to be part of it …

Okay, so that was a tangent.

My point is this: on January 1st, when I found out that E! wouldn’t be picking up their option on me, I had already spent so much time thinking about leaving New York that I felt even more adrift than I did before!  That’s when I began to seriously consider business school … quite possibly the complete antithesis of being an entertainment host. haha! But I was so late in applying - I could only make the third round, and that’s pretty much a Hail Mary.  That said, I spent quite a bit of time prepping for the GMAT, getting my application materials in order, etc.  I considered a few schools, including U of C, Northwestern, MIT, Harvard and Stanford, but in the end, I decided that I didn’t really want to live anywhere but Northern California.

Now, as I was going about my business school bit, I got a call from my agent about a show I had auditioned to be the host of when it was at MTV - a show produced by World of Wonder (they do Tori & Dean as well as RuPaul’s Drag Race) now called “Who Wears It Best?” - they wanted me to be a judge, and the pilot was shooting in a week!  Okay, then.  So I flew out to LA, shot the pilot (which was honestly spectacular, btw), and flew back.  It’s on Oxygen’s slate, and we’ll find out if it got picked up in June.  Fingers crossed.

Two weeks later, I shot a pilot for Reveille as the host of a dating show for Yahoo.  Still no word on that either!

Meanwhile, my manager sat me down in LA and gave me a tough love talk.  He told me in no uncertain terms that I am to write a book and say yes to the offer of a syndicated column that I got a year ago.  NOW.  To be honest, I’ve been putting it off for … well, for a year.  I just didn’t know what I wanted.  If that sounds wishy-washy, well … it is.  It’s easy to run fast and run hard when you’re running towards something.  But when you’re not … when you’re not sure what message you want to impart or WHY you’re trying to shout above the din of a million other voices, then sometimes you just want to stay quiet.  And I wanted to stay quiet.

Dear god.  I don’t know why this turned into an interminable expository essay … I guess I just wanted to let you know WHY I feel so lost, so turned around and so confused.  I have these different forces pulling me in so many different directions - all of which I want to explore!

And of course, at the same time, I’m battling biological forces, forces that kicked in unexpectedly at the end of last summer, forces that made my relationships feel, for the first time in my life, more important than my career.  Forces that made me want to preference cuddling with my boyfriend (or crying about my lack thereof) above “crushing it” online or on air or in print.  You better believe that wasn’t the case in the five years prior.

The truth is, I am both more sure of who I am and more lost than I have ever been.  The irony of this dichotomy does not escape me.  I am more honest, more trustworthy, more respectful, more conscious of my core values, than I have EVER been.  I think a lot about being a good person, about what that means, about how I can contribute to other people’s happiness.  But that’s where I get lost.  I am NOT sure what the best way for me to do that is … yet.

That is why I think I need some time and space to think.  To listen to God, because I know it’s been hard for me amongst the din of my life.  I feel like if I’m just quiet enough, I’ll be able to hear clearly …

Comments

Apr 20, 10 1:27am
It’s about as frustrating as being chained to the tv while Latin American soap operas play nonstop. You can tell there’s something good going on, but you can’t understand what the hell it is!
from one of my old COED columns.  Har.

Comments

Apr 15, 10 5:54pm
My generation happens to excel at waiting.

- NYT op-ed by an 18-year-old

Um … how, exactly, does her generation “excel at waiting”??  Waiting the 3 minutes it takes for their YouTube videos to upload?  Waiting .00003 miliseconds for a google search to finish?  Waiting 20 seconds for the credit card machines to instantly process in the backs of the cabs?  Waiting 10 seconds to fast-forward through the commercials of the show you’ve just TIVO’d?  Or the 15 seconds it takes to press the one-click on iTunes to buy the latest ep of Gossip Girl??

Right.

THANK THE LORD that my written-as-an-idiot-teenager columns from my high school newspaper aren’t available on the internet.  Because (most) 18-year-olds have absolutely no sense of history, and they genuinely believe they are the first generation to think and do just about everything.

And now I will go and sit by myself and think cranky, crotchety old woman thoughts about how I had to connect to the internet WITH MODEMS and USE PAYPHONES and walk 18 1.2 miles to school IN THE SNOW without even AN IPOD to listen to JUSTIN BEIBER WITH, DAMNIT!

Kids these days.

Comments

Apr 03, 10 3:35am
Maybe our mistakes are what make our fate. Without them, what would shape our lives? Perhaps if we never veered off course, we wouldn’t fall in love, or have babies, or be who we are. After all, seasons change. So do cities. People come into your life and people go. But it’s comforting to know the ones you love are always in your heart. And if you’re very lucky, a plane ride away.
Carrie Bradshaw, emailed to me tonight by Florida reader Kate.  No matter what you think of quoting Sex and the City (yeah, some of you feel it’s dicey, from a cliche perspective), you have to admit, this one is a gem.

Comments

Mar 31, 10 4:27pm

Post Breakup

Meghan:
It's going to be okay. You just need to cut it off for a while, give yourself a chance to heal.
Me:
I know.
Meghan:
You need to ... wait ... ARE YOU WEARING HIS SHIRT???
Me:
[guilty] Uh ... what! No!
Meghan:
Yes you are.
Me:
[sighs] Yes I am.
Meghan:
TAKE THAT OFF RIGHT NOW.

Comments

Mar 31, 10 2:40pm
Sometimes the heart doesn’t mourn the relationship you had so much as the life you thought you would have together in the future. You know?

Okay, I promised (myself) I wouldn’t post any more today, but I just got a reader email which wondered why I was so upset over the breakup of someone I had been seeing since early November, and I really want to write about this.  So, since I know that if I don’t, I’ll just ruminate about it instead, I’m going to, and hopefully I’ll get it out of my system.

My initial reaction was twofold: part of me thought “Who are you to judge my feelings?” (and really, that’s a pretty good question - none of us have the right to say “You shouldn’t feel this way. You don’t have a right to be upset, etc.”).  The other part of me wanted to tell her that I haven’t gone a single day since New Years without seeing or talking to this guy, that I had pretty much moved in with him, and that we had both met each others’ families, gone on several trips, he had become friends with all of my friends, I had met all of his, etc - in short, the relationship was far more serious at five months than any relationship I’ve had since Michael, over three years ago.

That said … I don’t really think that’s the main reason I feel it’s hitting me so hard.  I think the primary reason is that we had talked about our future in such a serious manner that when we broke up, it wasn’t just the loss of the relationship I did have, it was the loss of the future I thought I would have.  Does that make sense?  He was one of the few men I’ve been with in my life where I actually allowed myself to think about a future beyond the next few weeks (the other three being Michael, Alex, and my ex-fiance Jon).  That wasn’t the case with Toph or Ben or Charles or Jakob or Dave - or any of the men I’ve gone out with since I left Michael in early 2007.  I never thought about spending my life with them.

Now, maybe I shouldn’t have allowed myself - or rather, we (Prom King and I) shouldn’t have allowed ourselves to go down that road, talking about kids and getting a dog together and where we would live.  But … you know … I was also ready for it.  For the first time in my life, I was REALLY ready to have those discussions.  Prior to that, I never felt like I was ready for marriage - even when Alex and I discussed it, or when Michael and I discussed it, I made it very clear that I wasn’t ready.  And I hadn’t been ready at any other point in the last three years.  But with Prom King … well, he was the first guy I’ve dated seriously that I really spent time thinking “What would it be like to spend my life with this guy, to raise children with him, to grow old with him, to have a family with him?”  And I suppose that might be one of the reasons I’m taking this so hard.

So.  There you go.  What do you think?

Comments

Mar 29, 10 9:31pm

oh … hi.

I don’t really know where to begin, except to say that right now, at this very moment, I don’t want to write this entry.  I don’t want to write it not because it doesn’t need to be written - it does - but because I would rather take an Ambien, crawl into my bed and go to sleep.

After last night, in which I tossed and turned with anxiety until 6 am, at which point I fell into a nightmare-filled semi-sleep until 10 am, I decided, “Enough.”  In fact, the only thing I actually accomplished today was going to my doctor and actually - for the first time in my insomniac life - asking for an Ambien prescription.

If you’re surprised to hear me invoke the big A (Ambien!?!  But I don’t believe in meds!!), that should give you an idea of how willing I am to try all of the solutions I haven’t before.

So, let me fill you in a little here.  I think it was readily apparent I had a bit of a breakdown last Tuesday, around 4 am, a time in which breakdowns tend to occur.

I’ve always found it fascinating, in a horrific sort of way, how life likes to hit us with 1-2 punches.  In this case, for me at least, it felt like a 1-2-3 punch.  First Jordan left, then I found out my ex Michael got engaged to the girl he began dating right after me, then - yep - on Tuesday evening around 10 pm, Prom King broke up with me.

And that was it, sort of.  The idea of coming on here and posting some happy photo of a cupcake or a pair of shoes or a fun, inspirational quote was too much for me.  And to explain what happened - that seemed even worse.  I couldn’t handle it.  I felt like I was drowning.  To own up to all of that - to tell you how much pain I was in (and why) - I just couldn’t.  I didn’t want to talk about it.

I wanted to crawl into my bed, which I did, by the way, and cry.  And cry.  And cry.

It embarrasses me to write in a public forum that my response to a breakup at the age of 29 is almost identical to my response to a breakup at the age of 16.  How is that possible??  Does this not get any easier??

First, please know that while he most definitively broke up with me, he did so in the most mature, calm, considered manner, and he did “leave the door open” for getting back together at some point in the future.  Honestly, I really don’t want to get into the details of why our relationship wasn’t working, but suffice it to say, the fault is on my shoulders.  The lightest explanation (by that I mean, this is not everything, but some of the less personal things) has to do with a lot of judgments I made about him at the beginning - things like “he’s too young to take seriously” and “I don’t want to live in New York City anymore” and “I don’t want to date a lawyer” and “He doesn’t read enough.”  I allowed myself to get distracted by details which don’t matter (who cares if he’s 25 if he treats me well??) and lose sight of the Big Stuff.  Stuff like: Is he a good person?  Does he make me laugh? Am I a good person when I’m around him? 

I over-analyzed everything (um, hello … have you met me??) and managed to make a loving and confident man insecure (at least with regard to me).  That led to a sort of downward spiral in our communication, a lot of misunderstandings, and a fair amount of fighting.  The sad thing is - we both love each other as people, and it didn’t have to go down that route.

Ultimately, he just didn’t feel the same way about me anymore, and while I completely understand why, it was a tough blow to take - especially because I felt that I had brought it upon myself.

I don’t know whether we’ll get back together or not, but I do know that I have made a promise to myself that I will NEVER make these mistakes with another man again.

Here’s what I’ve done in the intervening time:

  1. Re-read every single text he ever sent me.  Cry.
  2. Re-read every single email he ever sent me.  Cry.  Forward some to him.  Realize that’s really pathetic.  Regret it.  Cry more.
  3. Call him about seven times in the first three days, crying.  Realize that’s really, REALLY pathetic. Regret it.  Cry more.
  4. Replay every single scene in our relationship where I screwed up, and reenact those scenes with a different reaction on my part - and new outcomes.  Like Sliding Doors except no Gwyneth Paltrow.  Then cry.
  5. Call my mother at least three times a day.
  6. Attempt to meditate like a Buddist monk. Fail.  Stupid monks never broke up with anyone.
  7. Lose appetite. Not eat much.  Then eat chocolate.  Then not eat much again.  Weigh myself.  Secretly think that only benefit to breaking up is break up weight loss.  Still would rather be fat and with him.
  8. Decide never to date again.
  9. Decide that “never” means at least a month.
  10. Contemplate buying one-way ticket to ashram in India, all Eat Pray Love style.
  11. Realize I don’t know of any ashrams in India.  Think maybe I should just go to Italy and eat instead.
  12. Wonder if I’ll ever find anyone who treats me as well again.
  13. Cry. 
  14. Play with my dog … constantly.  Realize dog and mom are only things that cheer me up.  Talk to my dog a little. Watch dog yawn: Dog has seen many of these breakup-meltdowns.  Dog knows “this too shall pass.” 
  15. Days pass.  Things get better.  Then they get worse.  Then they get better.  Then worse.  Up. Down. Up. Down. Down. Down. Up.  I’ve been here before (too many times), and I know - intellectually - it will get better.  That doesn’t always make it feel better right here, right now.
  16. Actually work out.  This is a small miracle inandof itself.
  17. Go to church.  Yes. Church.  In Manhattan.
  18. Talk - multiple times - to every close friend I have.  They all check in with me at least every other day.  This does help, you know.
  19. Force myself not to call ex.  Succeed.  Feel very victorious.  Call my mom instead.  I have a good mom.
  20. After a horrible, fitful night of non-sleep, give in and ask my doctor for an Ambien prescription - just to get me through these next two weeks or so.  Feel a little embarrassed, but the only thing worse than getting over a break-up is getting over a break-up on no sleep.
  21. Write this entry. Feel a hell of a lot better at the end of it than I did in the beginning. :)

Of course, that’s not the end of the story, and the pain I talked of in my entry last week wasn’t just due to losing him … I’m well aware that when you have a reaction like that (or rather, when I do), it’s telling you that you need to reassess your life choices in a way that you hadn’t before.

I still don’t know whether I’ll continue to “lifecast” the way I had been … I just know I can’t stop WRITING.  I don’t know what the future holds.  But I do know this: when I received the emails many of you sent me over the last few days, they lifted me up. I can’t even describe how much they meant to me.  They made me feel as if I wasn’t alone.

Because I’m not.  You’re not.  I think there is something going on here, with this generation - there’s something very lost about us.  Or maybe that’s just me, and those of you who wrote in to tell me you felt similarly.

I feel it so strongly that I want to talk more about it, and I want to explore it with you … people who are struggling through it, and those who have come out on the other side.  Inasmuch as there ever is “the other side.”  (One girl wrote me that she goes through this every two years!)  When I read through a few of my past entries, it became apparent that I’ve been lost for quite some time now.

I still don’t have the answers, but just admitting - out loud, here - that I’m in pain, that I’m trying to find them, that I’m working on finding a therapist, exploring my faith, even (sigh) taking a bit of medication to make sure I get good sleep at night - it helps.

You helped.  So … thank you for that.

Okay, I have a little white dog to pet now.

Love,

Julia

And PS. I’m also working on enabling the comments here, so you’ll be able to interact with me (and each other) in a way you couldn’t before.  I think that will go a long way to allowing us to all understand each other better.  And maybe, maybe … it could be helpful?  Even fun??  I could use a little fun right now.

PPS. This doesn’t mean I’m back posting full time.  It just means I’m explaining where I’m at right now.  I feel VERY vulnerable and extremely fragile.  So … please.  Understand that.

Comments

Mar 24, 10 3:05am

Goodbye, for now.

Hello there.

Although I don’t know you and you don’t - let’s face it - really know me, we’ve been through a lot.  I started blogging in 2006, and began this lifecast in 2007.  I chugged away, dutifully recording these bits of my existence, photographing and captioning and - especially in the first years - reflecting quite a lot, ruminating on life, love, and happiness.  Sometimes I shared deeply personal stories with you, other times - lately - not much at all.  Sometimes I offered you advice. Sometimes I just posted awesome photos of my pet dog.  I did these strange, sometimes hilarious, sometimes awful things called lipdubs.  I filmed over 100 episodes of a little show called TMIweekly.  I got a tattoo.  I fell in love, got heartbroken, fell in lust, got heartbroken, dated and loved, dated and liked, dated, dated, and finally fell in love again. At this point my heart is so battle weary and scarred I can’t even tell if it’s broken or intact, but I’m leaning towards broken.  Finally, I talked about my faith - which I came into (relatively) late in the game, but which has changed me inexorably as I navigated my way through the byzantine maze of my late twenties.

That maze continues, but I will no longer be documenting it. At least for now.

This post has been a long time coming, and I think it will surprise no one to hear that I’m taking a leave from lifecasting.  How long will I be gone?  Perhaps only a few weeks.  Maybe a few months.  And yes, there is the possibility (however implausible) that I’ll never lifecast again.  I love the solidity of closing the door to the past, of ending this life chapter with a definitive thud, all “Well, that’s THAT!”

But that, of course, is not how life works.  Life humbles you with irony and twists, it surprises you by giving you everything you ever imagined you wanted, only to leave you grasping for something else entirely.  And just when you think you’ve figured everything out, you find out you know even less than when you began.

For so long I was ambitious and enthusiastic and genuinely, GENUINELY happy.  I am no longer any of these things, and I haven’t been for quite some time now.  I am badly, badly burnt out.

Various readers have asked what is going on “behind the scenes” here at Nonsociety - what “really” happened with Jordan, what “really” happened with Mary, why I never post anymore, do I care about my critics, why don’t I do this or that or the other thing, what’s happening with my career, what’s happening with Prom King, what’s happening with my waistline and my face and my future, and here is the short answer, the answer that should surprise you more than anything:

I don’t want to talk about it.

And the longer answer, which I sent to one (originally rude, but later quite reasonable) reader:

Why do you think I owe you anything?  I’m sorry I’ve disappointed you, but honestly, you’re not a friend of mine, nor are you family, so I’m a bit confused as to why you think that you have some sort of say in how I should or should not be …

Here’s the deal: I *DO* ignore the critics, absolutely.  I don’t read the reblogging site, ever ever ever, and I have to shut them out (even emails like yours), because the truth is, I know better than anyone how I’m doing, why I do what I do, what my goals are (or were, at least), etc.  And if I were to listen to outsiders who didn’t know me - most of whom wish me ill will - I would literally go crazy.

And sometimes the things going on behind the scenes are far, far too painful to talk about …  I’m already going through a total Turning 29 crisis (it started when I was 28 1/2), but I don’t feel like sharing that with the world.  In fact, I’m not sure WHAT I feel like sharing with the world, except photos of my dog and occasional party pictures.  I’m exceptionally confused with what I want in life … I thought I wanted one thing, then I got it, and now it doesn’t seem so great anymore.  So where to from here?  I have NO idea.  And even if I had the answer, I’m not sure I’d write about it.

Is that lame?  I don’t know.  Part of me has really stopped caring what other people think.  I mean, it still can hurt my feelings (which is why I don’t seek out criticism), but ultimately I can’t spend my life worrying that strangers aren’t pleased with my decisions.  We each have to travel our own path, replete with all sorts of lessons - some of which aren’t so much fun to learn sometimes.

This career - this wild ride I embarked upon when I moved to New York, a naive, ambitious, frightened girl of 23 - has given me everything I wanted.  More than that, even.

But I no longer want what I wanted back then.  Last August, everything changed.  It wasn’t subtle and it wasn’t gradual - it was literally a moment, and EVERYTHING shifted.  All of the cliches about women and biology rang true for me: I went from being blissfully single to obsessing about finding a husband in a span of about six months prior to my 29th birthday.

At the same time, I began experiencing this strange unhappiness and exhaustion and frustration with what I had been doing - quite happily - for the past five years.

I tried writing about it, several times, including this one, which I wrote in February:

So … so.  The elephant in the website (does that slight permutation on the cliche even work?  sigh) is that I’ve drastically reduced my posting here over the past month or two.

It’s obvious, and yet I’ve failed to address it.  Why?  For a multitude of reasons, really, not the least of which is that, while I knew that something was wrong, I couldn’t really articulate it.

I had planned to write something around the first of January explaining that I was taking time off.  Except that in order to write something, I needed (or felt I needed) an explanation.

But I had no explanation.  Not for you, and more worryingly, not for me.

Oh, sure, I could list a variety of reasons I wanted to stop - for a while, a few months maybe - but I had disproportionate trouble putting them down on paper.  Er … screen.

And what does one say when one has a general malaise? ”I’m going through something?  Except I don’t know what?”  “I’m just not that into this website? Sorry?” “I can’t muster up the enthusiasm to do anything, much less post on my website?” “I have no idea what’s wrong with me, but I sure as hell am not going to reveal any weakness to YOU!”

But those “reasons” had been around for some time.  What had changed?

I had no idea.  All I knew was that in the last six-eight months (since August, really), something had shifted in me.  I wasn’t myself, and it took me until December to realize what it was, and how bad it had gotten.

It has been very bad indeed.

The truth is, I’m not sure what I want anymore.  I really have no idea.  And that has been deeply confusing to someone who has charged full force ahead (sure, sometimes in entirely the wrong direction) her entire life.

Frankly, I don’t even know in which city I want to live.  New York doesn’t seem like *ME* anymore, but I don’t know what city does.  I know I don’t want to travel as much, I know I don’t want to go to parties as much, I know I don’t want to “network” as much.  I also know that lately I stand in photos and smile and pretend my life is just perfect, BUT IT’S NOT.

What do I need now?  Who the hell knows?  The only thing that appeals to me right now is going to an ashram far, far away.  I’m embarrassed that I don’t have these answers.  I’m exhausted - not physically.  My soul is exhausted.  I’ve lost my purpose.  I’ve lost perspective.  Worst of all, I’ve lost the joy I used to find constantly in life, except in very rare moments.  I don’t feel like ME anymore.  I’m just … I’m sad.  I’m really, really sad.

But I know myself and I know I’ll pick myself up and dust myself off and all of those other cliches, and one day I’ll look back on this and laugh and laugh and say, “See? The universe can’t fill your basket unless you empty it first.”

So I guess this is me emptying my basket.  I don’t regret this experiment, this foray into real time sharing, this career or this life.  I am proud of some things I have done, I am ashamed of others.  I am not perfect - I never claimed I was - but I believe I can be better, I can treat others better, I can live a better life.

I won’t disappear forever, but now it’s time for me to focus on other projects, on my relationships, on love, on regaining that sense of joy that I have lost, but most of all, on living my life with a deep sense of purpose and faith.

For what it’s worth: it’s never too late to be whoever you want to be. There’s no time limit. You can change or stay the same, there are no rules to this thing. We can make the best or the worst of it. I hope you make the best of it. And I hope you see things that startle you. I hope you feel things you never felt before. I hope you meet people with a different point of view. I hope you live a life you’re proud of. If you find that you’re not, I hope you have the strength to start all over again.

- The Curious Case of Benjamin Button

As a wise friend once told me, sometimes it takes as much courage to leave as it does to stay.

Thank you for listening.

Love,
Julia

Comments

Feb 23, 10 4:01am

PS

I’m out in LA tomorrow filming a pilot until Thursday.  (This one is about dating, the last one was about fashion - and they’re not mutually exclusive, so I’m hoping BOTH get picked up.)

In any case, that, combined with my parents, brother & future sister-in-law arriving in New York on Thursday (I get back about 10 hours after them), the insanity of the bicoastal birthday bashes, then four days of meetings in SF … well, suffice it to say, I probably won’t be posting a lot (not even the usual photos with captions) over the next few days.

I’m sorry to those who get upset / angry when I don’t post.  I stopped posting frequently some time ago, for a variety of reasons - mostly because something I used to love for its positivity and openness, for the catharsis, began to feel scary and hurtful to me.  I couldn’t be sure that someone wouldn’t twist my words around.  Actually, it was worse than that: I could be absolutely sure that someone somewhere WOULD twist my words around.  At the end of the day, it didn’t seem like putting myself out there was a smart idea, in terms of my own personal happiness, as well as the happiness of those around me.

When I began this site, I wanted it to be like tagging along with me.  But for various reasons, from lack of time to lack of energy to general desire to keep certain portions to myself, I can’t - and don’t want - to do that anymore.

In fact, for some time (over Christmas, especially) I thought that perhaps I didn’t want to write on a site AT ALL anymore, but I was wrong about that too.

I do want to share, but I’m going to share on my own terms.

From now on, please realize this:

This is a peek into my life, not the entire thing.

Some days I’ll share quite a bit. Other days, nothing at all.  You might not always know what I’m up to, how I feel, what I’m doing - or why. If that upsets you, I’m sorry.

I have to make the best decisions for me, and for the people in my life.  Sometimes that’s not going to make you happy.  Sometimes you might disagree with a decision I make or comment I write, or generally just think I suck.  But if I’ve realized anything over the last three years, it’s that THERE IS NO CONCEIVABLE WAY to make everyone happy.

In the end, the only person I have to answer to is myself - and - not to get too heavy here, but, yes, God.

Anyway.  God’s telling me to go to bed now.  Goodnight, bunnies.  ;)

Comments

Feb 23, 10 3:15am
I really should be heading over to my place to pack for tomorrow’s flight to LA (I’m holding up my eyelids, I’m so tired), but I wanted to address a few comments I’ve gotten recently … I know Prom King has a tendency to plan - and execute - extravagant events.  He’s quite well-known among his circle for being, uh … in the kindest possible terms, “a former player” (that would be until a few months ago, FYI, hahah) … but he’s never done these sorts of things for any other girl he’s dated (his sister and friends have backed him up on this).  He does them for me because he knows I appreciate it - and, frankly, because he enjoys it. But I’ll be honest with you: Just because a guy is thoughtful (he is), generous (he is), and creative (he is), doesn’t mean that our relationship is perfect.  It’s not. What you didn’t see in those Valentine’s Day photos was a very tough dinner conversation.  You didn’t see us trying to learn how to communicate with one another.  You didn’t see our doubts and our fears and our insecurities.  You just saw glitter and smiles and sugar and champagne.  Which is fine … which is part of it.  But that’s not all of it. I don’t like Prom King because of what he does for me.  I like him because he cares enough about me to want to do those things.  I also like that he actually takes notice when I mention things (such as “Betsey Johnson is one of my favorite designers!”)  I’ve dated men before who barely remembered Valentine’s Day at all, let alone understood how important it is to me. I won’t lie … this isn’t the first time I’ve been doted upon like this.  It’s the first time in a long time, but it’s not the first time.  The difference is that now I’m old enough - wise enough - to realize doting alone does not a good relationship make. And I’ve grown up enough to realize that while every relationship needs a bit of magic now and again, it’s more important to have compatibility in all the moments in between … moments when you’re curled up on the couch together, or walking the (small white) dog, or even grocery shopping.  Those are the moments which make up life.  Special occasions should be just that - special - but they aren’t everything. As for Prom King?  He has a good heart.  And great values.  He cares deeply about his family, his friends, and now, me. I can’t give back to him the way he does for me, but I can do small things to show I care.  I left little post-it notes around the house this morning.  I surprised him with his favorite dinner.  I made him hot chocolate.  I folded his laundry.  I put together an enormous photobook which now sits on his coffee table. I suppose what I’m trying to say is this: This is still a new relationship.  It is not perfect, even if the photographs (and his gestures) make it seem like it is.  I am not perfect and he is not perfect.  So, by definition, it’s silly to assume that we would be perfect together. The fact is, I’ve never been in a “perfect” relationship.  But I have been in love, several times.  It is wonderful and confusing and thrilling and overwhelming.  But I am not in love with him.  I don’t think he is in love with me.  We care about one another very much, and I hope that will happen eventually … but how can one predict the heart? In the meantime, I’m trying to stop thinking about it (HA), stop over-analyzing it (HAHAH!), and just enjoy the moment.  Let it unfold, right?

I really should be heading over to my place to pack for tomorrow’s flight to LA (I’m holding up my eyelids, I’m so tired), but I wanted to address a few comments I’ve gotten recently …

I know Prom King has a tendency to plan - and execute - extravagant events.  He’s quite well-known among his circle for being, uh … in the kindest possible terms, “a former player” (that would be until a few months ago, FYI, hahah) … but he’s never done these sorts of things for any other girl he’s dated (his sister and friends have backed him up on this).  He does them for me because he knows I appreciate it - and, frankly, because he enjoys it.

But I’ll be honest with you: Just because a guy is thoughtful (he is), generous (he is), and creative (he is), doesn’t mean that our relationship is perfect.  It’s not.

What you didn’t see in those Valentine’s Day photos was a very tough dinner conversation.  You didn’t see us trying to learn how to communicate with one another.  You didn’t see our doubts and our fears and our insecurities.  You just saw glitter and smiles and sugar and champagne.  Which is fine … which is part of it.  But that’s not all of it.

I don’t like Prom King because of what he does for me.  I like him because he cares enough about me to want to do those things.  I also like that he actually takes notice when I mention things (such as “Betsey Johnson is one of my favorite designers!”)  I’ve dated men before who barely remembered Valentine’s Day at all, let alone understood how important it is to me.

I won’t lie … this isn’t the first time I’ve been doted upon like this.  It’s the first time in a long time, but it’s not the first time.  The difference is that now I’m old enough - wise enough - to realize doting alone does not a good relationship make.

And I’ve grown up enough to realize that while every relationship needs a bit of magic now and again, it’s more important to have compatibility in all the moments in between … moments when you’re curled up on the couch together, or walking the (small white) dog, or even grocery shopping.  Those are the moments which make up life.  Special occasions should be just that - special - but they aren’t everything.

As for Prom King?  He has a good heart.  And great values.  He cares deeply about his family, his friends, and now, me.

I can’t give back to him the way he does for me, but I can do small things to show I care.  I left little post-it notes around the house this morning.  I surprised him with his favorite dinner.  I made him hot chocolate.  I folded his laundry.  I put together an enormous photobook which now sits on his coffee table.

I suppose what I’m trying to say is this:

This is still a new relationship.  It is not perfect, even if the photographs (and his gestures) make it seem like it is.  I am not perfect and he is not perfect.  So, by definition, it’s silly to assume that we would be perfect together.

The fact is, I’ve never been in a “perfect” relationship.  But I have been in love, several times.  It is wonderful and confusing and thrilling and overwhelming.  But I am not in love with him.  I don’t think he is in love with me.  We care about one another very much, and I hope that will happen eventually … but how can one predict the heart?

In the meantime, I’m trying to stop thinking about it (HA), stop over-analyzing it (HAHAH!), and just enjoy the moment.  Let it unfold, right?

Comments

Feb 07, 10 11:48pm

A word about my “Romantic Life”: Um … I’m not single anymore

I wrote the below entry back on December 2, 2009.  I did not, obviously, publish it.  Why?  For a multitude of reasons, not the least of which was - as I explain in the penultimate ‘graf - I was at a “very weird stage” with several young men.

And as you might have suspected, I am no longer at that weird stage.  I do, in fact, officially have a boyfriend. (whoa!!) That news is both joyful and bittersweet, because I grew to care for two of the young men very much.  They were - are - both good people, intelligent and thoughtful and kind.  But one (Hipster Lawyer) lived far away, and the other (Prom King), just a few city blocks.  In the end, that made all the difference.

Of course, a one sentence summation belies the true complexity of the last few months.  Decisions about love under extenuating circumstances are heartbreaking.  But the details are not something I am ready to share, and not something I will likely ever share. Suffice it to say that there is great adoration and respect between Hipster Lawyer and me, and we will always have a special place in each other’s hearts.

Life has taught me time and time again that one cannot always know why things happen - only that they happen for a reason.

December 2, 2009

God, I actually have a nervous feeling in the pit of my stomach just writing this post.  Weird.

I wrote this about three times in my head, while lying in bed attempting to fall asleep last night, but of course I can’t remember exactly how I put it.  All I know is that it wasn’t like this. ;)

Anyway … so.

Longtime readers know that I haven’t written much* about my dating life in a long time.  That, we’ve found - and by “we” I mean every single even-tangentially-public individual in the history of the planet - is fraught.  This conclusion is old and tired and pretty well agreed upon, although as fresh-faced young things enter into the public space they will invariably decide “I’m the exception to the DON’T EVER EVER EVER MENTION YOUR RELATIONSHIP RULE” and then find, much to their broken-hearted chagrin, that they are not in fact the exception to anything, except perhaps being subject to fatness & gravity after birth and whatnot.

Uh … right.  Of course, by “haven’t written much” I mean no proper names (not since Charles, who loved being showcased), a few mentions of actually going on dates or seeing someone, maybe a tweet about a first or second date, but relatively little detail.  I thought obscuring their identities, like Code Name TK, and posting about things that absolutely no one could construe as “oversharing” (playing Frisbee?  hiking in Runyon Canyon? Eating s’mores?), I could be open about dating or a relationship without dooming it.

I was, again, naive.

There was a REASON I gave CodeNameTK a code name (and I will give all guys code names until the day I’m married) and it was to protect him.  Very few men can handle the heat of hate websites, and that was certainly the case with TK.  I underestimated their dedication, as well as their ability to figure out who he was from what I thought were very, very basic bits of biographical information (his age, his city, his profession).*

Of course, there are always guys like Prom King, who thinks it’s adorable to post to the site.  But for every Prom King, there are five guys like … well, I’ll have to haul out the old [redacted], who can’t handle even a code name and a few airbrushed details.

Most guys I date are in the middle, like Hipster Lawyer.

* Shakes head, realizes I’ve gotten totally off track. *

Ugh.  This is not the point of the post, damnit!

The point of the post is to say this: I’m at a very weird stage with a few guys right now - Prom King, Hipster Lawyer & Wild Card (definitely not the nickname my girl friends & I call him, but that one isn’t suitable for public consumption).  I’m under five dates with each of them, which is V. Early Stage.  But at least one reads this site and another definitely checks my Twitter … well, you can imagine how odd this whole thing is.

It’s enough to make me not want to discuss my dating life, AT ALL.

And I didn’t … until now.  Famous last words, right?

In any case, I won’t be “discussing” my relationship with Prom King, per se, but you will hear about him from time to time, because, well … he’s a large part of my life now.

And that, my friends, is all I have to say about that.

xo

Comments

Jan 08, 10 1:23am
Erin just posted this photo on Facebook, of me and my little brother after New Years last week. It might end up being my favorite photo of the evening, because it encompasses what I value most now in life: family, friends, love … spending time with the people you care about. It’s hard to write that and not sound … hmmm … how shall I put it?  (Thinking of terms, all of them inappropriate)  Like a bit of a Pollyanna.  Family values?  That’s sort of … boring.  Doesn’t everyone love their family?  Their friends? Well, we certainly all say we do.  But what do we MEAN by that?  Are we good friends, good daughters, good sisters?  Do we spend time with them?  Do we come through when they really need us? I try, but I can’t say that I always have. It wasn’t that long ago when I felt strongly Career should be #1, 2 & 3 on my priority list. But I suppose there comes a time in our lives when that just changes.  For me, that moment came this summer.  I had a date - a guy who I had known for years, who was fun, great, lovely, etc - but I just thought, “You know, I don’t want to spend a lot of time with anyone I don’t love anymore.”  There’s a time in your life for that, and then there’s a time for (I shudder to use this cliche) settling down.  Don’t get all riled up.  I’m not talking about marriage.  (Well, yet.)  I’m just talking about valuing the people we love by actually - I don’t know - spending time with them?? Then, last Tuesday my grandmother and I were at the pancake house for one of our three hour long epic-conversations-disguised-as-meals, when my father called.  He was on his way home from work and needed to be picked up from the train.  I negotiated back and forth with him, trying to buy more time to run a few errands, then finally agreed and hung up the phone.  My Grandmother was staring out into the distance with these huge yearning eyes, and said simply, “What I wouldn’t give to be able to pick up my father from the train. Just to talk with him for even 10 or 15 minutes.” That just floored me. The holidays are over, you’re all home, back to workworkworkworkwork.  That’s lovely.  But please don’t forget about the things that really matter - and people comprise pretty much all of them. One of my resolutions in 2010 is to continue to appreciate the people I love around me, to make more time for family and love and friends who are much like family (I consider Meghan, Megan, Jordan, CD, and Randi to be like sisters).  One evening, one dinner, one conversation with them is worth far more than a party, event, book signing or whatever nonsense get together I used to find Very Very Important a few years ago. I’m not saying abandon your career, abandon your ambitions.  I’m just pointing out that it’s moments like the one above - hugging my brother - that I’ll be glad I made time for, and not moments like getting the 80th business card at some conference. This sentiment might be often repeated, but in my mind, it’s never repeated often enough.

Erin just posted this photo on Facebook, of me and my little brother after New Years last week.

It might end up being my favorite photo of the evening, because it encompasses what I value most now in life: family, friends, love … spending time with the people you care about.

It’s hard to write that and not sound … hmmm … how shall I put it?  (Thinking of terms, all of them inappropriate)  Like a bit of a Pollyanna.  Family values?  That’s sort of … boring.  Doesn’t everyone love their family?  Their friends?

Well, we certainly all say we do.  But what do we MEAN by that?  Are we good friends, good daughters, good sisters?  Do we spend time with them?  Do we come through when they really need us?

I try, but I can’t say that I always have.

It wasn’t that long ago when I felt strongly Career should be #1, 2 & 3 on my priority list. But I suppose there comes a time in our lives when that just changes.  For me, that moment came this summer.  I had a date - a guy who I had known for years, who was fun, great, lovely, etc - but I just thought, “You know, I don’t want to spend a lot of time with anyone I don’t love anymore.”  There’s a time in your life for that, and then there’s a time for (I shudder to use this cliche) settling down.  Don’t get all riled up.  I’m not talking about marriage.  (Well, yet.)  I’m just talking about valuing the people we love by actually - I don’t know - spending time with them??

Then, last Tuesday my grandmother and I were at the pancake house for one of our three hour long epic-conversations-disguised-as-meals, when my father called.  He was on his way home from work and needed to be picked up from the train.  I negotiated back and forth with him, trying to buy more time to run a few errands, then finally agreed and hung up the phone.  My Grandmother was staring out into the distance with these huge yearning eyes, and said simply, “What I wouldn’t give to be able to pick up my father from the train. Just to talk with him for even 10 or 15 minutes.”

That just floored me.

The holidays are over, you’re all home, back to workworkworkworkwork.  That’s lovely.  But please don’t forget about the things that really matter - and people comprise pretty much all of them.

One of my resolutions in 2010 is to continue to appreciate the people I love around me, to make more time for family and love and friends who are much like family (I consider Meghan, Megan, Jordan, CD, and Randi to be like sisters).  One evening, one dinner, one conversation with them is worth far more than a party, event, book signing or whatever nonsense get together I used to find Very Very Important a few years ago.

I’m not saying abandon your career, abandon your ambitions.  I’m just pointing out that it’s moments like the one above - hugging my brother - that I’ll be glad I made time for, and not moments like getting the 80th business card at some conference.

This sentiment might be often repeated, but in my mind, it’s never repeated often enough.

Comments

Dec 04, 09 10:38pm
I made this little Photo with Caption as a rah-rah empowerment tool - you know, like “Wouldn’t it be great if each one of us could find a wonderful photo of ourselves in a bikini laughing and label it with our real weight?” - to showcase ourselves feeling comfortable in a swimsuit and comfortable being honest about the number on the scale - to showcase that bikinis can still be sexy, even if you’re not a Victoria’s Secret Model.  That’s theoretically empowering, right? Then I thought, “oh, Julia, what are you trying to prove??”  If this is all about honesty, I’m still not 100% comfortable with either my body or that number (I mean, sometimes I am!  But sometimes I’m not.)  And I’m mad at myself for that!!  Sigh.  I don’t know.  I guess we all have issues with our bodies, don’t we? Or maybe we don’t.  Maybe there are some lucky women out there who have NO BODY IMAGE ISSUES whatsoever.  I would like to meet them and steal their souls.

I made this little Photo with Caption as a rah-rah empowerment tool - you know, like “Wouldn’t it be great if each one of us could find a wonderful photo of ourselves in a bikini laughing and label it with our real weight?” - to showcase ourselves feeling comfortable in a swimsuit and comfortable being honest about the number on the scale - to showcase that bikinis can still be sexy, even if you’re not a Victoria’s Secret Model.  That’s theoretically empowering, right?

Then I thought, “oh, Julia, what are you trying to prove??”  If this is all about honesty, I’m still not 100% comfortable with either my body or that number (I mean, sometimes I am!  But sometimes I’m not.)  And I’m mad at myself for that!!  Sigh.  I don’t know.  I guess we all have issues with our bodies, don’t we?

Or maybe we don’t.  Maybe there are some lucky women out there who have NO BODY IMAGE ISSUES whatsoever.  I would like to meet them and steal their souls.

Comments

Dec 03, 09 3:17pm

NEWSWEEK End of the Decade Project "Top 10 Internet Memes" #2: Obama Girl

And below, if you want to read the (slightly longer) version I turned into Newsweek:

END OF THE DECADE PROJECT: Obama Girl
NEWSWEEK
December 3, 2009
By Julia Allison

“You seem to float onto the floor
Democratic Convention 2004
I never wanted anybody more …
cause I got a crush on Obama!”

June of 2007: the Democratic presidential nominee hadn’t yet been decided, even by the most precocious of pundits.  It was a slow news day (month, really) when a not-quite-professional YouTube music video featuring a sexy young girl singing about her love for a certain politician broke out.  Before the end of the week, over five million people had seen “Obama Girl” gyrate in a bikini next to a superimposed shot of “relatively unknown” democratic contender Barack Obama, bare-chested in the waves.

No campaign video then – or since – has made it so clear: Hillary Clinton or John Kerry, he wasn’t.

“So I put down my Kerry sign / So black and sexy, you’re so fine.”

Presidential candidate as sex symbol?  This was a new era, indeed.

This was no Swift boat, no cranky senior citizens complaining about health care.  Instead we had model/actress Amber Lee Ettinger, then 25, with long flowing black hair and curves that could make gay Republicans straight – plus an undeniably catchy tune, some arguably amusing lyrics (“You’re into border security/Let’s break this border between you and me/You can love but you can fight/You can Barack me tonight”), and, oh yeah, a bright red pair of booty … uh …  “shorts” – with OBAMA in white letters on the butt.
Such iconic sexual-political imagery is the stuff of pop culture legend.

“It’s safe to say the original video was more memorable than any of Barack Obama’s own TV ads,” says former ad-exec Ben Relles, who co-created Obama Girl with vocalist Leah Kaufmann, shooting it in a single weekend.

That it looked slightly homemade – no slick videography, with a budget of just $2k, only fanned the flames of grassroots views & media love.  More important, the message perfectly articulated – in a cheeky (figuratively & literally) manner – the cult-like almost adolescent adulation Obama fanaticism that had been building in pop culture.   “It was a metaphor for how young people were head over heels for him for the wrong reasons,” says co-creator Ben Relles.

Well … maybe not the “wrong” reasons, per se, but certainly reasons not frequently ascribed to politicians, like, for example, uh … “hotness.”

But it wasn’t just sex appeal that made Obama Girl (now viewed almost 50 million times worldwide) the defining viral video of the 2008 election.  For the first time it became possible for an individual to create and disseminate a video to an enormous audience.  “A video created in a weekend for a few hundred dollars could impact a national election,” explains Relles, “That represents a real shift in the way people can participate in politics.”

And so Obama Girl stands – clad in a tight white tee with Obama’s face – at the intersection of sex, politics and the internet, harkening a new era where elections are young and sexy and fun and underwear doesn’t just sport boring lettering like “Juicy Couture” but instead politicians’ monikers.

“Obama Girl’s in textbooks, in museums, referenced on SNL and in Michael Moore’s book,” marvels Relles.  Oh, and one more thing … “Obama’s seen it.  He emailed me.”

Comments

Dec 02, 09 4:36am
From the Files of “OMG WHY DIDN’T YOU FILM THIS SO WE COULD PUT IT ON YOUTUBE?!?!” Brother Britt’s fiancee Allie, a fourth grade teacher in Boston, asks Britt to come into the school to give a special science lesson every quarter or so.  She sent us this email just before Thanksgiving, describing Mr. Britt’s lesson last week: From: AllieDate: November 24, 2009 7:52:32 PM ESTTo: The FamilySubject: A very exciting day at school!Mr. Britt did a FANTASTIC job today at school.  He gave three lessons on states of matter and air pressure to three different sets of kids using the very enigmatic liquid nitrogen. He put all of his fancy scientist gear on (which happened to be totally unnecessary) which instilled awe in the students.  The liquid nitrogen condensed the air around it, giving off a smoke that made everyone move back in their seats.  The kids were absolutely rivited!  Every time he dipped something in it (an inflated balloon, a rubber ducky, a penny and a marshmallow) the kids would squeal in anticipation while they made their own hypotheses about what would happen when he would smash it with a hammer.  Then, when the marshmallow and rubber ducky would smash all over the room (they got to wear goggles from the middle school- also very thrilling) they all scrambled to get the pieces.  They can’t wait for his next visit!Love,Allie My parents and I laughed for days about this.

From the Files of “OMG WHY DIDN’T YOU FILM THIS SO WE COULD PUT IT ON YOUTUBE?!?!”

Brother Britt’s fiancee Allie, a fourth grade teacher in Boston, asks Britt to come into the school to give a special science lesson every quarter or so.  She sent us this email just before Thanksgiving, describing Mr. Britt’s lesson last week:

From: Allie
Date: November 24, 2009 7:52:32 PM EST
To: The Family
Subject: A very exciting day at school!

Mr. Britt did a FANTASTIC job today at school.  He gave three lessons on states of matter and air pressure to three different sets of kids using the very enigmatic liquid nitrogen.

He put all of his fancy scientist gear on (which happened to be totally unnecessary) which instilled awe in the students.  The liquid nitrogen condensed the air around it, giving off a smoke that made everyone move back in their seats.  The kids were absolutely rivited!  Every time he dipped something in it (an inflated balloon, a rubber ducky, a penny and a marshmallow) the kids would squeal in anticipation while they made their own hypotheses about what would happen when he would smash it with a hammer.  Then, when the marshmallow and rubber ducky would smash all over the room (they got to wear goggles from the middle school- also very thrilling) they all scrambled to get the pieces.  They can’t wait for his next visit!

Love,
Allie

My parents and I laughed for days about this.

Comments