This movie gave me way too much to say.

I just finished watching the movie "Julie & Julia", after about a hundred recommendations from friends and loved ones ("It'll make you want to write a book!" "It'll make you want to eat a stick of butter!" "It'll make you want to move in with Meryl Streep and copy everything she does!"), and it is indeed very good, and if you haven't seen it yet, you should, even if you're a movie snob like me who usually stays away from popular films that aren't focused on death or post-apocalyptic slow-moving doom.

We all know that sometimes we read into things. In every experience, be it a painting, a hike, a conversation, or anything, someone can take from it a lesson or a message that may never have been the creator's original intent. And as I watched this movie, I kept seeing how much of both of these women's lives were, in a sense, about starts and stops.

Julia Child married late, faced opposition and negativity when she first entered cooking school, and had her landmark cookbook delayed and delayed and then rejected. By the time it was published, she was nearly 50 years old.

Julie Powell, the movie's other protagonist, is about to turn 30 before she launches the blog, and though she is happily married, she has an unfulfilling job and a less-than-ideal apartment, and is constantly comparing herself to her ridiculously successful friends.

I don't have friends who are senior vice presidents, and none of my friends have personal assistants (although, if they're hiring...). But for the most part, my friends and I are all circling that dreaded 30... some of us closer in than others. And for the most part, I think they would all agree that the age of 30 is not what it was when our parents reached it. Whether it's the new 20 or not... that's another blog.

I do know that many of my friends, as they approach and surpass the 30 mark, feel an immense pressure from any number of sources. Lord knows we all can pressure ourselves enough as it is, minds racing with "what if"' scenarios until fear renders us virtually catatonic. We can give it any number of names or attachments (career, spouse, house, kids), but it's basically a pressure for successful stability. I have seen so many friends (and even myself at times) marching through each year as though there is a gun to their heads, so great is the pressure, and what could rob someone of more joy?

I don't mean to paint Julia Child as a saint (as the Julie of the movie does), but seeing her story, however fictionalized, it reminded me that there really is no point of no return. Jobs come and go or stay, relationships fade, explode or remain, and even the people we count on as our basic support systems will disappear or let us down.

But!

There is hope.

It sounds cliche' to use the "everything is an opportunity" bit for the millionth time, but really, it's true. There won't ever be a time in my life, regardless of how old I get, when every door is closed forever. Things will almost certainly not work out as I had envisioned them (they already haven't, on a small scale), but they will eventually work out. The right things will come at the right time, and who's to say when that time will be? People publish novels (or cookbooks) after years of waiting and strings of bizarre jobs. People find love at every point in life. People discover redemption in the most unlikely of places and at the most unlikely of times.

I know this is true for me, and I'm going to venture to say that it's true for you.

A friend of mine, who is just past thirty, single, and contemplating some new changes in her life, said recently (and this is a very loose quote, so be nice to me, and her), "You know, it's possible that I could be 40 and single, or that life won't play out as I would like, but I know that I can take today for what it is, and say, 'Today, I have what I need, and today I am loved'. And if you can say that every day, then no matter what, you're doing pretty well."

And so, we don't sit on our hands and lament. We wake in the morning, we pursue what we love in at least small ways, and then we do what's next, not knowing what exactly will come of it. But today, you and I have what we need, and you and I are loved. And believe it or not, that's a stable place to be.

Yes, Ireland is exactly like this.

Happy St. Patrick's Day.

My Friday gift to you.

"I like that. It makes me sound like a blanket."

First things first: Mom is home from the hospital as of Sunday afternoon, and is recuperating well (I think--I left for Portland Monday afternoon). She'll be off work until April, and is apparently honing her MarioKart Wii skills in the meantime.

While she was in the hospital, I stayed at my parents' house with my dad and sister. I don't know that I was ever much functional help, but I did hang around and allow myself to be repeatedly defeated in Wii Tennis matches. I also subjected my dad to American Idol and all the horrors therein, but he made me watch spooky movies.

In the interest of being fair, we watched Zombieland, Orphan and The Mist, and only one of those was actually spooky, since Zombieland was a comedy, and Orphan is completely, deliciously ridiculous. This is a spoiler, but I have to tell you, the twist to Orphan was too crazy not to share. The Bulgarian little girl that Peter Saaaaaaaaaaaarsgard and Vera Farmagia (her name always makes me think of cheese) have adopted is not a child at all, but rather a psychopathic 33-year old woman with a pituitary-gland disorder.

That, my friends, is a twist.

Portland is sunny and gorgeous today, and I don't know how to handle it. It's lovely, indeed, but it's also March, and I'm not quite ready to give up my sweater-wearing and rain-dodging yet.

I'm trying to fall back into my normal routine, whatever it may be, and even though I don't entirely know what I'm doing, it's nice to feel like life is moving again. At this point, I'm still not sure if the movement is forward or just circular, as it has felt for the last few months. January and February seemed to be spent on pause, waiting for things to normalize again. So, the play button has been pressed, and I am trying to spark myself to better things.

Watch this space for updates.

Surgery update, part 2

Hi again, friends.

Mom is still in the hospital--has been here since February 18--and the doctor is saying she should be home by the end of the weekend. If you have been following my Facebook or Twitter account (www.twitter.com/ohmylands), you know that it has been an up-and-down adventure so far. There have been a couple really tough days, and several very good days.

At this point, Mom is doing well. The doctor is happy with the way she is progressing, and she's finally able to eat some simple foods for the first time in a week and a half. I appreciate all the people who have called her and sent her cards, and all the friends who have been checking in on me as well. Thanks again for your love and suppport.

Surgery update

Hi friends. My mom had her surgery yesterday, and I'm happy to report that the doctor said it all went very well. She will be in the hospital well into next week, but we will be playing things by ear each day.

She didn't sleep last night--I was here at the hospital with her overnight. And today, she is having a lot of pain. She's not seeing visitors right now as a result. but the whole family appreciates your prayers and support.

I am relying mainly on Twitter and Facebook to get my updates out. Our internet access is limited right now, so those are the best way to stay updated.

Thanks again for being a part of this journey with us.

"Can I order bacon with it?"

It's been another long hiatus for me, and I am heading into what will probably be another one. I'm realizing that, in a sense, this blog really does mirror my life. There are times where I am present and intentional and funny and on top of everything, and then... there's February.

In blog- and real-life-form, I have disappeared for two weeks or more at a time. I am sure there are a couple friends who are certain I am avoiding them; each time they contact me I am out of town, on my way out of town, or otherwise entangled. If you're one of those friends, here's two things you need to know: 1) I'm not avoiding you and 2) you're not alone.

Also in blog- and real-life, there are the things I want to talk about and can't. There's the Haiti post I have sat down to write multiple times and have given up because I am crying too hard to type. Someday, it'll be written. Someday when I'm braver.

My mom is going back into the hospital this week, hopefully for the last time. So I'll be away again for a while. Prayers are, as always, appreciated, if you're the type. I'll be abandoning my family in their time of need on Monday, however, because The Magnetic Fields are playing at the Aladdin. Here's The Magnetic Fields, unclassifiable as they may be:

Also, in a not-exactly-unhealthy-but-probably-unwise bid for stress management, I have bought a ridiculous amount of music in the last month. And while multiple things have cycled through the car cd player, Metric's "Fantasies" seems to have taken up residence officially. The others will have to find somewhere else to be, I suppose. Below, because I don't know how to post a a simple audio track, is another cheesy still YouTube video of my favorite track:

In closing, I would like to point out that the title of today's blog was spoken to me by two separate people this week. They make terrible vegetarians.