tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-35242232011-04-21T14:16:16.149-04:00chunksofmeI'm Katie. I'm 23. I'm serving a ten-month term in Americorps NCCC, traveling around the Southeastern United States. My mom thinks I'm the luckiest girl in the world. Katiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13825403636902600765noreply@blogger.comBlogger3101100tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3524223.post-1085609524616896522004-05-26T18:07:00.000-04:002004-05-26T18:12:04.616-04:00Chunk of Writer's Blockhead
I sometimes long to be a writer; but as Sars over at Tomato Nation is always saying, the only reason to be a writer is because you have to write, because it's in you. I fear my need to write is masochistic. I would be turning to writing in desperation, knowing I am not good at it, knowing I have no "voice," poor grammar, and little sense of plotting or pacing; Katiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13825403636902600765noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3524223.post-949134372003-05-26T18:49:00.000-04:002003-05-26T18:49:48.766-04:00New Blog
Head on over to No Cure for Commas for the latest dish. Though I can't promise I won't post here too. I loves me the internet fame and fortune...Katiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13825403636902600765noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3524223.post-947604742003-05-22T19:54:00.000-04:002003-05-22T19:54:43.326-04:00things that are new, or new-to-me
Ted Nugent is a raging asshole bigot. Good guitar player, though.
ZZ Top rocks my ass off.
Ted Nugent fans are rilly, rilly scary.
I just spent 89 bucks on new clothes for work, because having been a college student for 4 years I had a surfeit of jeans & NO acceptable workpants. I had one pair -- and they swish when I walk to such an extent that I only wear Katiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13825403636902600765noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3524223.post-944746362003-05-16T19:03:00.000-04:002003-05-16T19:03:15.150-04:00mm mm glagh...
My room or something near it smells faintly of Campbell's tomato soup. How about that.Katiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13825403636902600765noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3524223.post-944637212003-05-16T14:45:00.000-04:002003-05-16T14:45:28.090-04:00erinds
I have lots of errands to run.
I have a partay to attend, which I should get all dressed up for.
Alex is coming back here at 11.
Life sometimes seems like a laundry list. Worse, a grocery list. Today I want to run away. Today, I want to find a beach with sun somewhere. I want to walk in sand and dip my toes in ocean and cry some, and dance some, and lie faceup in the sun.
The Katiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13825403636902600765noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3524223.post-944634202003-05-16T14:38:00.000-04:002003-05-16T14:38:35.996-04:00i guess this is growing up
Sometimes it all gets too much for me. Treating other people well shouldn't be this hard; usually it comes easily -- but sometimes it doesn't. Some days I want to rant and rave. I want to yell mean things out of car windows. I want to sulk. And pout. I want to stick my tongue out and raise my middle finger. I want to tromp all over sandcastles and knock down Katiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13825403636902600765noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3524223.post-943092402003-05-14T00:33:00.000-04:002003-05-14T00:35:09.000-04:00happiness peeks
I am a little ashamed of how much and how little it takes to make me happy sometimes.
Like some minigolf in a rundown place RIGHT off the highway.... (little)
With a wonderful friend recovered after years of silence..... (much)
And tickets to a ZZ Top/Ted Nugent/Kenny Wayne Shepherd concert (little money) (much: sound systems, drive, etc.)
the CD player in my car
nicknames
Katiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13825403636902600765noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3524223.post-942453322003-05-13T00:29:00.000-04:002003-05-13T00:29:25.343-04:00i wonder
I wonder if weddings on TV and in movies will always make me cry as much as they do right now.Katiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13825403636902600765noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3524223.post-942449282003-05-13T00:18:00.000-04:002003-05-13T00:19:15.000-04:00good will
In other news, I've been watching WAY too much TV and WAY too many movies lately. Three yesterday -- Super Troopers, Can't Hardly Wait, and The Sixth Sense. I really liked all of them -- had only seen CHW before. Krystal didn't really love the CHW -- which I can't blame her for, since most people don't. I don't know what it is, but I really love party movies. *shrug* Go figure, Katiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13825403636902600765noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3524223.post-942447622003-05-13T00:13:00.000-04:002003-05-13T00:20:31.000-04:00i got friends in high places...
Turns out that a little stretched nepotism really helps. I know a guy who knows a guy, and suddenly someone who hasn't returned my calls for weeks... calls. About an hour after This Guy I Know could have made a call.
Now that, my friends, is results.
So now I have a job interview on Wednesday. I really hope it works out... it's kind of a commute, but it's Katiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13825403636902600765noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3524223.post-941416232003-05-11T05:14:00.000-04:002003-05-11T05:14:25.890-04:00my wrists
My wrists smell sweet. I'm not exactly sure why. They just do. This is something I only noticed a month or so ago. It might be a new development.
I have heartburn right now, for no particular reason. I didn't drink at all today but I feel very hungover.
I meant to go to bed early tonight.
I wanted to get lots of things done tomorrow -- like going to Victory and getting milk, Katiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13825403636902600765noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3524223.post-941080352003-05-10T11:59:00.000-04:002003-05-10T11:59:05.200-04:00babes in the woods
My little cousin is getting married on June 14th.
Today I have to go to her wedding shower.
She's six months younger than me... This is so weird.
And if one. One. person says to me, "So when will we be doing this for your wedding?"
....
*sigh*
I am going to need a witty comeback and a death-glare all prepared.Katiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13825403636902600765noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3524223.post-941077282003-05-10T11:52:00.000-04:002003-05-10T11:53:04.000-04:00Rue de Lafayette
Oh, and I rue it.
Apparently in Boston there are two streets; one Lafayette Avenue, which is an alleyway in the North End, and one Avenue de Lafayette, which is in the downtown crossing area and has the Suissehotel on it.
Wacky antics ensue...
But we eventually found our way to the Suissehotel and to fondue. Fondue is kind of cool.
I have to admit, turning down Lafayette Katiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13825403636902600765noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3524223.post-939017712003-05-06T22:33:00.000-04:002003-05-06T22:38:10.000-04:00marathon day
So, after a stunning display of vomiting last morning, I finally got a little sleep and took the goddamn film exam already. Krystal was pretty much right, I didn't need to freak out about it nearly as much as I did. I would have done better without the massive dehydration/headache/fear of puking in the middle of the exam hall, and another clear-headed looksee over my notes would Katiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13825403636902600765noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3524223.post-938296542003-05-05T19:29:00.000-04:002003-05-05T19:29:09.180-04:00am i a sicko?
Yeah, I know I'm a sicko, but I also know I'm not nearly the only sicko out there... so I ask you -- why am I the only one who seems to think that Wolverine and Cyclops had a really heavy sexy vibe goin' on when they had their arms around each other in that second-to-last scene of X-men 2? Hmmm?
I even checked out fanfic.net and No One, but No One, has capitalized on this Katiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13825403636902600765noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3524223.post-937757442003-05-04T22:31:00.000-04:002003-05-04T22:31:29.896-04:00and also
I really wish it were summer already, and I had a covered porch, and a porch-swing or hammock, and I'd grab Alex and make him hang out and read our favorite childhood books together, handing them back and forth, reading each other the good parts. And eating ice cream. Lots of ice cream. And taking lots of naps.
I hate that we spend so much of our lives Doing Important Things, like Katiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13825403636902600765noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3524223.post-937735902003-05-04T21:50:00.000-04:002003-05-04T21:50:05.236-04:00yuppity
Tomorrow, goddamnit, I will get a second installment of soymilk chai latte. TOMORROW. I deserve it. I've been doing hard work... intermixed with some xmen movie and some serious slacking.
I think ChicagoWench and DiscotheKid are the best online diary approximations of how I wish I could be. More cynical and brusque on the surface, but at the same time much stronger and loving. It'sKatiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13825403636902600765noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3524223.post-936037362003-05-01T12:58:00.000-04:002003-05-01T12:58:52.090-04:00fnoo
Summer's here! I had an iced chai soymilk latte the other day. mmmmm...
In other news, I had a goodby dinner with some very good friends last night and I cried and cried. Part of it's hormones and part of it's sincere sadness and part of it's that I am immensely scared about leaving college and heading into a semi-lit void of endless possibility.
I suppose this is how the kids who Katiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13825403636902600765noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3524223.post-935142872003-04-30T01:32:00.000-04:002003-04-30T01:32:13.733-04:00gah.
Get me out of academia. Now.
I feel very not-at-home, very tired. I was very grumpy today, poor Alex. I wasn't all grumpy, but I was sort of touchy.
It's a very touchy time. On the train today we rode past a high school, and I saw all the cars in the lot and thought man, if I were in high school I'd be getting out in a few hours, going to drive my '81 Chevy home, or somewhere fun, Katiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13825403636902600765noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3524223.post-934430452003-04-28T23:43:00.000-04:002003-04-28T23:43:10.663-04:00gurgle
well, after an allnighter, i pulled it off. I forgot to set my alarm though, so tho I planned on going to all my classes today, I only made one & ten minutes of another. I slept SEVEN. HOURS. And slept through one of the only nice, springy days we've had this year. Oh well.
Tomorrow I'm going into Boston to return books & pay fines, & hang out with Alex. I'm hoping for marzipan Katiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13825403636902600765noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3524223.post-932859272003-04-26T03:28:00.000-04:002003-04-26T03:28:09.193-04:00vacation
So I had myself a little vacation. It wasn't half bad. I would have liked if I could have either gotten a lot more work done before I left or somehow managed not to think about it at all while I was home. It was less than restful.
I saw Mamma Mia tonight. I thought it blew chunks all over the place. I would have been happier had they forgone the plot and just sang the goddamn ABBAKatiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13825403636902600765noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3524223.post-927660792003-04-17T03:38:00.000-04:002003-04-17T03:38:12.466-04:00thesis
So it stands at about 115 pages, and the Introduction and Conclusion are about the Katiest things I've ever written, which is to say overblown and full of rhetoric and tangets, like I speak and like how I normally write that I have to desperately try to reign in normally when writing formal papers but is much like throwing a red flag over the head of a bull in a china shop in an attempt Katiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13825403636902600765noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3524223.post-926994702003-04-16T01:54:00.000-04:002003-04-16T01:55:31.000-04:00ow.
The badass shoes totally out-badassed me.
I have blisters.
And cuts.
Ow.
Upside: I finished an introduction today. Thesis stands at 106 pages, roughly. Tomorrow I have to write the conclusion. If I do, I never, ever have to think about it again. Til I get comments on it and have to rewrite.
Thursday needs to be all about my NEJS paper, or it won't get done and things will be: bad.
I am Katiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13825403636902600765noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3524223.post-926646242003-04-15T14:28:00.000-04:002003-04-15T14:28:24.560-04:00so.
I have been feeling underappreciated a little bit lately. I think that's mostly because I haven't had time to hang out with anyone.
I firmly believe you have to give to get, so I do try to let people know how much I honestly venerate who they are and what they are doing in the world. As much as I know my friends' faults, I love and appreciate their amazing abilities much more. I guess Katiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13825403636902600765noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3524223.post-925488002003-04-13T19:40:00.000-04:002003-04-13T19:40:32.500-04:00biker bitch
My new big-ass platform sandal-shoes make me feel like a badass biker chick.
A badass biker chick with a blister and a Film paper to write.Katiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13825403636902600765noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3524223.post-925127232003-04-12T23:23:00.000-04:002003-04-12T23:23:33.000-04:00bad business
Friendly's "limited time only" mint chocolate chip-cookie flavor. Why? What's the deal with limited time only things? I mean, did they not learn their lesson with the "Wattamelon Roll"? When people like things, they buy them. The more people buy, the more money you make. Availability = more chances to buy.
Is there some wacky economic principle I'm not getting, here?Katiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13825403636902600765noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3524223.post-925125822003-04-12T23:19:00.000-04:002003-04-12T23:19:42.326-04:00good little consumer
I bought four pairs of shoes today. Whew.
And an incredibly cool 40's-style dress. I'm calling it my "graduation dress." Helps mitigate the severe guilt. Also I keep telling myself hey, I didn't go to the Jr./Sr. formal, so this was just all that money I saved! I earned this money! By... not doing stuff!
I am now the proud owner of yet another pair of hugeass black Katiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13825403636902600765noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3524223.post-924435832003-04-11T14:49:00.000-04:002003-04-11T14:49:40.716-04:00scratch that
Ok. Ok ok ok. It is slightly likely that I might get a chance to work for peanuts at an incredibly emotionally draining job this summer/fall!!!! And I am dizzingly happy about it!!! And this is your life when you decide to work in social services and nonprofits!!!!
But it comes with... wait for it... HEALTH BENEFITS!
Am I not the luckiest girl in the world that you know?Katiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13825403636902600765noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3524223.post-924119762003-04-11T02:18:00.000-04:002003-04-11T02:18:24.670-04:00redux
Oh, Lord. Just read November and December. There's really nothing, absolutely nothing I'm going through right now that I wasn't going through right then. That's so depressing. Talk about treading water.Katiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13825403636902600765noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3524223.post-924109212003-04-11T01:51:00.000-04:002003-04-11T02:07:13.000-04:00hooooooooo-eeeeeeee.
I really wish. Really wish. I could just interact with other people like. You know. A normal human being.
That "not a total spaz" chip is still on order though.
you'll say it's really good to see you
you'll say i missed you horribly
you'll say let me carry that,
give that to me.
and you will take the heavy stuff,
and you will drive the car
and i'll look out the Katiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13825403636902600765noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3524223.post-924074602003-04-11T00:35:00.000-04:002003-04-11T00:35:39.950-04:00it's aliiiive!
HA! Guster is SO still together and touring! I knew it.
I forget who tried to convince me that they had broken up, but know I know they're wrong.
I don't have any thesis pages to show for it. But I do have peace of mind! Yeah.Katiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13825403636902600765noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3524223.post-923873932003-04-10T18:14:00.000-04:002003-04-10T18:14:18.513-04:00on break.
On break, I have to write a paper. But besides that, I am going to try to:
1) see a movie in the theater.
2) read Mrs. Dalloway again.
3) watch a nice, juicy film noir.
4) take a bubble bath.
5) send out invitations to my graduation.
6) get some pictures taken of me.
7) make some decisions about loans.
8) go out for coffee.
9) call some of my friends I don't get to talk to nearly as Katiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13825403636902600765noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3524223.post-923102502003-04-09T15:47:00.000-04:002003-04-09T20:04:22.000-04:00and it's mine -- all mine!
A man walks out of his house with umbrella in hand, looks up at the rainy sky and shouts --
"Stop! Or I'll bumbershoot!"
Thank you, thank you. I'll be here all week...Katiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13825403636902600765noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3524223.post-921997432003-04-08T00:37:00.000-04:002003-04-08T00:40:20.000-04:00let it be
Anger is the most difficult emotion for me. I have a hard time being angry appropriately. Largely because my life philosophy revolves around anger being a "wrong" emotion. But it doesn't appear to be working, telling myself I'm not angry.
Since I can't be angry at one person, one event, I end up blowing it all sky-high. Seeing the whole world as wrong. Like we were talking about Katiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13825403636902600765noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3524223.post-920983822003-04-06T14:09:00.000-04:002003-04-06T14:11:05.000-04:00whole-heartedly lifted
"So this morning, as I look into your eyes, and into the eyes of all of my brothers in Alabama and all over America and over the world, I say to you, 'I love you. I would rather die than hate you.' "
-- Martin Luther King, Jr.
From "Loving Your Enemies," delivered at Dexter Avenue Baptist Church in Montgomery, Alabama, on November 17, 1957.
I read this inKatiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13825403636902600765noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3524223.post-920697572003-04-05T22:30:00.000-05:002003-04-05T22:30:58.000-05:00I Am The Poetry Queen
So. I decided to submit to the college's worst lit rag last night at 10pm. And I grabbed something I wrote forever ago and submitted it, figuring, whut the hell, it's my last semester. Might as well try to get into the litmag again. And it worked!
Hee. This makes me feel better about not getting into the "cool" "upscale" litmag that the skinny English majors run. At Katiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13825403636902600765noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3524223.post-918698782003-04-02T17:01:00.000-05:002003-04-02T17:01:50.733-05:00chivalry may be dead, but misogyny reigns!
"she's really nice and friendly and, like you'd expect a lot of 21- or 22- year old girls to be, she giggles a lot."
- 23 year old tennis pro James Blake on Serena Williams. Bullseye magazine spring/summer 2003 issue
Since when is 21 or 22 a "girl"? Can we all just agree on an age when it is inappropriate to call a woman a girl any longer? I Katiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13825403636902600765noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3524223.post-918569772003-04-02T13:11:00.000-05:002003-04-02T13:24:42.000-05:00once n' fer all
I've been spending a lot of time thinking about religion this semester. What with the honkin' thesis and the course on Christian and Jewish relations. And a lot of time thinking about absolute moralities, and how to be religious in a pluralistic society -- when most religions are triumphalistic at heart. And here's my two cents on missionizing and attempting to convert people.Katiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13825403636902600765noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3524223.post-917553082003-03-31T23:36:00.000-05:002003-03-31T23:36:22.140-05:00moral certitude and Gregory Peck
So I've had a pretty thorough turnaround on the movie Gentlemen's Agreement (1947) tonight. I was watching it for film class and LORD is it poorly executed in some places. Hokey. Overdrawn. And LORD did I get so annoyed by smugass Gregory Peck waltzing around bellowing "AntiSEMITE!" at everyone and never doubting himself, fist firmly and self-righteously Katiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13825403636902600765noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3524223.post-916905982003-03-31T00:56:00.000-05:002003-03-31T00:56:03.043-05:00also
the trickiest thing about being A Good Person is understanding that while you really, really, really want to whine about How Hard It Is For You all the time, you can't. or, you so can (see below, in fact!) but you shouldn't, because whatever you're going through is peeeeeeeeenuts to what a bazillion other people are going through right this second. and also, it's annoying. and also, it'sKatiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13825403636902600765noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3524223.post-916903992003-03-31T00:51:00.000-05:002003-03-31T00:51:47.716-05:00another missive from the big oozy blobby tree
Often, I'm really glad I live inside my head rather than outside. I get the impression from a lot of folks that I'm a disconcerting person to be around. I know it's pretty much the same experience for me, but it must be worse when you don't know the rest of it.
I guess usually I just figure that if people aren't willing to stick around through a Katiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13825403636902600765noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3524223.post-915299722003-03-28T01:07:00.000-05:002003-03-28T01:07:41.640-05:00a ponderance
Is it a sign that the patriarchy totally owns my ass if I sometimes look in the mirror and think "This is as tight-skinned and sexy as you will ever possibly be" and the thought makes me both a little happy and a little sad? If I'm lucky, though, I will grow older fabulously like my mother.
Though, since I didn't get most of her positive genetics... (thanks for the buck teeth Katiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13825403636902600765noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3524223.post-915290482003-03-28T00:47:00.000-05:002003-03-28T00:47:11.920-05:00nargh
I have gotten into some very bad sleeping patterns.
For instance, right now I am wide awake.
I have a lot. A lot a lot. To do tomorrow.Katiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13825403636902600765noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3524223.post-915283172003-03-28T00:32:00.000-05:002003-03-28T00:32:20.263-05:00it's my blog and i'll post poetry if i want to
Inspired by Jon's Homework Assignment.
I woke up
Thinking it was day
the clock read "2:95"
that was the first sign.
I blinked and rolled my toes
inside my socks
and mashed my face
back down on the pillow.
I breathed in my own smell.
Comforted myself.
Grasped the teddy bear
by the ear
and he fell apart
in frozen motion.
The third sign
was the Katiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13825403636902600765noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3524223.post-913916082003-03-25T23:43:00.000-05:002003-03-25T23:47:06.000-05:00things i've been reading
Where is Raed? A weblog from inside Baghdad.
Ouchy the Clown A clown/dom/d.j./facilitator. Like nothing you've seen. Hopefully.
War Porn? The old obsession with weapons has some interesting parallels to human sexual behavior. Thank The Guardian, as usual, for this well-written and thought-provoking article. Probably more so if you're currently taking an art Katiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13825403636902600765noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3524223.post-912808042003-03-24T09:44:00.000-05:002003-03-24T09:44:19.310-05:00the new new new new...
Remember after 9/11 when everyone was talking about their heigtened sense of fear and apprehension, the new security checks everywhere and calling it "the new normal"? It was sort of a catchphrase for a while. Well, i'm wondering if being at war will ever stop making me feel so awful, so jumpy. Or maybe this is the "new new normal."
But in light of all the horrible Katiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13825403636902600765noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3524223.post-912577052003-03-23T22:52:00.000-05:002003-03-23T22:52:12.216-05:00moment of silence
Casualties of war.Katiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13825403636902600765noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3524223.post-912126182003-03-23T00:40:00.000-05:002003-03-23T00:41:30.000-05:00comforts
It's strange the things you do to comfort yourself sometimes. Ok, it's strange the things I do, anyway.
I've been checking websites obsessively, looking at the journals I love best, rereading entries. I've been popping over to Television Without Pity like a crazywoman (for hours today) to read Buffy recaps and laugh at in-jokes and feel... at home, in some weird way. I read most Katiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13825403636902600765noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3524223.post-911963022003-03-22T17:12:00.000-05:002003-03-22T17:12:56.340-05:00sirens
I wonder if there have actually been more police/fire/ambulence sirens around lately, or if my awareness of them is heightened.Katiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13825403636902600765noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3524223.post-911612602003-03-21T22:33:00.000-05:002003-03-22T17:13:57.000-05:00prayers?
Trying to write this thesis, but in the midst of it all I can't stop thinking about this world, and the place I want in it. I am desperately fighting with myself over whether or not to go to Nicaragua. I know if I truly want to go I can make it happen. But I'm not at all sure that's what I want. I want someone to pray for me. But I'm not even sure how much I believe in people's Katiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13825403636902600765noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3524223.post-910816272003-03-20T16:25:00.000-05:002003-03-20T16:25:26.856-05:00grieving
I wish I had words to say to make anyone feel better.
The only thing making me feel any better is all the good people in the world who don't want to kill each other. I wish I were out protesting today, but I'm not angry enough to yell or march right now. I'm too sad. There will, unfortunately, be other protests and vigils to attend in the coming days.
I think also of the people Katiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13825403636902600765noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3524223.post-910394942003-03-20T00:04:00.000-05:002003-03-20T00:14:56.000-05:00war stomach
I had to stop listening to Radio CNN; the glee in their voices was getting to me.
Nervouser and nervouser. Scenes of disaster playing through my head. Both for the Iraqis and ourselves. God help us all.
I don't know what I want to do tomorrow. Part of me wants to protest but part of me also wants to have a normal day tomorrow. Which I suppose is very selfish, and even more to Katiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13825403636902600765noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3524223.post-909370262003-03-18T13:30:00.000-05:002003-03-18T18:35:02.000-05:00my dos centavos
Alright, let's just dissect the situation, shall we? The anti-war "protesters" of the college are staging a walkout. Oh yes; I'm sure The Man is shaking in his boots -- a bunch of college students are cutting class! Alert the media!
The pro-war "protesters" respond with: ok, if you're not going to class, we will go to class. And we'll hand out ribbons, too! pllllt! Enlist?Katiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13825403636902600765noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3524223.post-908425322003-03-17T02:07:00.000-05:002003-03-17T02:07:49.780-05:00half a dunkachino chunk
I had half a dunkachino tonight. Dunkaccino? No idea. Anyway. And I can't sleep now. Which is no good. I am obsessively looking up Irish language and dance courses on the net. Always wanted to learn.
Go n-ithe an cat thú is go n-ithe an diabhal an cat - May the cat eat you and the devil eat the cat
That's a good Irish curse-out for you. Happy St. Patrick's Day, Katiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13825403636902600765noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3524223.post-907794532003-03-15T17:39:00.000-05:002003-03-15T17:39:37.436-05:00quaver chunk and float
The difference between shivering and quavering is pretty easy to distinguish, I realized staring at the ceiling last night around 2:15 am, just after I had hopped into bed firmly convinced that I was dead tired. Shivering is external, that feeling in your arms, on your skin. Quavering is much more visceral, has more to do with the stomach, the chest cavity, the internal Katiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13825403636902600765noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3524223.post-906183172003-03-12T19:32:00.000-05:002003-03-12T19:34:48.000-05:00a funk chunk
I am in a mini-funk. Not so bad, but definitely not so good. I am feeling a bit like a Dr. Frankenstein, dwarfed and menaced by my own creation, in regards to this thesis.
Apparently when left to my own devices and only writing when I manage to scare myself into it makes me write overwhelmingly in passive voice, as well. Yippee.
More and more, I feel like this was a bad idea. Katiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13825403636902600765noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3524223.post-905432262003-03-11T16:11:00.000-05:002003-03-11T16:11:20.483-05:00so bleh. chunk.
I dunno. I guess the best explanation would be that I feel a lot like the Vagina Monologue about the woman who only has surprise orgasms. I am not sure what makes me happy or calm; it just kind of happens, and I accept it. Which isn't to say I don't try all sorts of things -- yoga for one -- to stay calm and centered. It just doesn't ever work. I can't bring about states ofKatiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13825403636902600765noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3524223.post-904982362003-03-10T22:33:00.000-05:002003-03-10T22:33:48.436-05:00don't hate me cuz I'm chunky
So. I was just perusing the "senior speaker" entries. And I want to cry big wobbly tears of shame. Good Lord. Who told these people they could write?
You know, I don't want to be a cynic. It's just that people make it so hard. They write insipid things and quote the most obvious quotes... and worse, when they are not insipid and are cynical right back, and Katiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13825403636902600765noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3524223.post-904347612003-03-09T22:48:00.000-05:002003-03-09T22:48:22.293-05:00chunk of back to school
Today was a beautiful day out -- though it was cold the light looked like spring sun to me. Made me happy. A nice post-sunset band of purplypink behind a church spire glimpsed while I was driving to CVS made me happy too.
I am seriously conflicted about the Big Life Decision I will soon have to make though. I don't think I'm responsible enough yet to be making Big Katiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13825403636902600765noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3524223.post-900033392003-03-02T12:04:00.000-05:002003-03-02T12:04:32.186-05:00chunk of 20something
I realized in the shower this morning that I don't think I have any significant amount of magical thinking left. I was trying to think like I used to when I was little, have my running stories in my head parallel to reallife. But it didn't work.
Maybe I'm just having an off, Old day. It is a stressful one.Katiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13825403636902600765noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3524223.post-900032162003-03-02T12:00:00.000-05:002003-03-02T12:00:56.606-05:00chunk: in which I am 22 years of age.
Well, goodby, 21. You were a nice year, all in all. Sure, you had a parents' divorce in you, but you also had London, Italy and Ireland, new friends and enough daydreaming about the future to fill an encyclopedia of careers. Not too shabby.
Anyway, in other news, I am hoping that my stalker has decided to step the fuck off. Gah. I hate "secret admirersKatiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13825403636902600765noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3524223.post-898422722003-02-27T10:41:00.000-05:002003-02-27T10:41:14.373-05:00and a chunk to grow on
Whenever my father and I would have arguments about religion when I was younger, especially my Big Searching Phase in high school, he would pose the same analogy everytime.
"Religion for people is like with a computer," he'd say. "You can't put Apple software in a IBM. It doesn't work. You have to take religions whole, you can't just pick and choose what you like from Katiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13825403636902600765noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3524223.post-897854072003-02-26T13:12:00.000-05:002003-02-26T13:12:33.513-05:00punch drunk chunk
Also: Punch Drunk Love, with Adam Sandler and Emily Watson? IS NUTS. The soundtrack especially. I went with Krystal and Kathryn and as soon as the weirdness with the soundtrack started up all I could think was that Krystal must be going out of her skull. And I was right. She was. I joined her when the "He Needs Me" song began.
I think the point was that we were supposed Katiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13825403636902600765noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3524223.post-897843932003-02-26T12:53:00.000-05:002003-02-26T12:53:47.420-05:00My Chunks on Jewish and Christian Intermarriage.
Disclaimer: I think marriage is a big load of hooey cleverly designed by the patriarchy to keep women and men in rigid gender roles and screw GLBT persons.
So here's the deal. My expertise in this area has to do with 4 days of reading and study, 1 five-page paper written, and a lifetime growing up Protestant. I have come to a few conclusions. Katiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13825403636902600765noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3524223.post-896440802003-02-24T09:38:00.000-05:002003-02-24T09:38:33.716-05:00chunk of clarity
I think it should be pretty obvious to all concerned that I need sunlight to be functional. No, scratch that. I need temperatures over 20 degrees, and sun is a plus. Honestly. Last week was horrendous. I have a lot of making up to do, timewise. Workwise. I got up today at 7am to work on my thesis. I got a page and a half done in an hour, finished up a few rough spots andKatiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13825403636902600765noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3524223.post-893403962003-02-18T20:09:00.000-05:002003-02-18T20:09:03.286-05:00chunks of snow.... falling on my head
Raindrops keep fallin' on my head. Something-something eyes will soon be red...
On an intellectual level, I completely and totally agree that snow is beautiful and sparkly under streetlights and magical. When I am walking through it, I see the pluses. However, from my room I've barricaded myself in, I have to say, it is eating my brain. When it's all Katiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13825403636902600765noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3524223.post-892891162003-02-18T01:06:00.000-05:002003-02-18T01:08:02.000-05:00a small cry of discontent. chunk.
I miss kitchens! My God, I miss kitchens. I miss the smells of baking things, especially bread. I miss cats that curl in the crook of your knees while you sleep. I miss bathtubs. I miss waking up to other people, waiting for a shower. I miss having all my books in one place. I miss hugs if I want them at night. I miss cuddling on the couch. I miss Katiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13825403636902600765noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3524223.post-892884732003-02-18T00:52:00.000-05:002003-02-18T00:52:29.953-05:00bookslut.com and related chunk
You really, really should check out/read regularly www.bookslut.com . It is really interesting, really cool. And even if I don't agree with all the booksluts all the time, I like to imagine I live in Austin and know them. Cuz they sure are cool.
The minute I heard my first love story
I started looking for you, not knowing
how blind that was.
Lovers don't Katiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13825403636902600765noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3524223.post-892045982003-02-16T17:25:00.000-05:002003-02-16T17:25:08.280-05:00chunk of shelley
It's really quite instructive to be reading Percy Bysshe Shelley's insights on war, monarchy, capitalism, and man's nature at this juncture of human history.
" -- The man
Of virtuous soul commands not, nor obeys.
Power, like a desolating pestilence,
Pollutes whate'er it touches; and obedience,
Bane of all genius, virtue, freedom, truth,
Makes slaves of men, and, of the humanKatiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13825403636902600765noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3524223.post-890023822003-02-12T19:35:00.000-05:002003-02-12T19:35:05.370-05:00quik chunk
If I'm ever a teacher of any kind, when someone asks me about something I don't know very much about, I'm totally going to scrunch up my eyebrows and say very thoughtfully, "Your question is better than my answer," just like Professor Sarna.Katiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13825403636902600765noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3524223.post-889581052003-02-12T00:55:00.000-05:002003-02-12T00:55:53.426-05:00chunk of bedtime
So I've been "writing"my "thesis" for like. 4 hours now. And I have written: 1 page of outline/notes, and two full paragraphs.
AAAAAAAAAHHH! NoFairNoFairNoFair!!! I was supposed to write 5 pages and be done with Chapter 2! What the hell? What part of my brain did not get this vital message?
The part, evidently, which is obsessed with finding this one passage I read at Katiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13825403636902600765noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3524223.post-889340642003-02-11T16:55:00.000-05:002003-02-11T16:55:12.310-05:00chunk of abandon
There are far too many people who fear abandonment. Obviously, what is needed is more people who fear abandoning.Katiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13825403636902600765noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3524223.post-888929742003-02-10T23:26:00.000-05:002003-02-10T23:26:54.726-05:00chunky hibernation
The cold makes me want to hibernate. Especially when it snows, but also when it is just grey out. Especially especially when it rains or sleets. There is just so little motivation to go romping out into a snowy, slushy cold day now that I don't go sledding or have snowball fights or do anything fun in the snow anymore.
I feel put-upon by my own scheduling. By my own Katiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13825403636902600765noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3524223.post-887462952003-02-08T01:38:00.000-05:002003-02-08T01:38:07.073-05:00chunk of neglect
I am laaaazy. I keep thinking of things to write here and then I just don't. It's not like I'm not at the computer 5 or 6 hours a day, mostly wandering around the internet avoiding 2 or 3 Word documents' worth of thesis. The computer is my tv, is my excuse. That's not an excuse, is it?
I wrote a film paper today, in about 4 hours flat. It was a breeze, compared to thesis Katiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13825403636902600765noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3524223.post-885478152003-02-04T15:28:00.000-05:002003-02-04T15:28:24.783-05:00 big chunks of success
Sometimes I think the successful people must be those who simply have the audacity to ignore the eviscerating voice that says "Is this really worth all this trouble?"
At others I think the smart people are the ones who can differentiate between what is actually worth the trouble and what is not.
I am neither smart nor successful if we judge by these criteria.Katiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13825403636902600765noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3524223.post-885002382003-02-03T19:17:00.000-05:002003-02-03T19:17:04.060-05:00chunks of today, the third day of february
I must be feeling better. Yesterday at 2:30 am I was pricing a move to Hawaii. It happened without me noticing it, even. I think internet searches for jobs/internships/volunteering/neat programs/new places to live has become an integral part of my daily routine. I definitely noticed when I was not doing it. Anyway, I'm glad I'm past the hump of theKatiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13825403636902600765noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3524223.post-884309042003-02-02T14:11:00.000-05:002003-02-02T14:11:47.456-05:00chunkofchunkofchunk
A new great idea of mine, inspired by last night's fly-in-the-ointment entertainment of random men grabbing me, dancing in front of me, and just generally thinking they were going to get laid with absolutely no encouragement from me (not that I am unused to this at Avalon, Avalon in Boston, yes, you, Avalon, you with your Eurotrash and your skanky HUGE guys from B.C. and B.U.Katiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13825403636902600765noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3524223.post-882687482003-01-30T09:43:00.000-05:002003-02-03T19:34:29.000-05:00c av h an u tg n ar k de
I spent an hour or so in the library just reading a history of Charles Ludlum's Theater Ridiculous, a famous 60's avant garde theater troupe. The book itself is called Ridiculous.
I admire the way some people have their own internal p.r. machine. Know when to hold 'em Know when to fold 'em. Filtering yourself for optimum exposure. I am beginning to see the merits, Katiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13825403636902600765noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3524223.post-881370192003-01-27T23:07:00.000-05:002003-01-27T23:07:31.540-05:00book chunk
I miss reading books. I really miss reading books. Novels. Books I like.
"I have an idea! Why don't we use the money to buy things. Things we like." - anonymous effeminiate pirate, The Simpsons
I have a feeling I could reach enlightenment if only I could manage to read children's books all day long.
The library does not have Helen De Witt's The Last Samurai and has been "Katiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13825403636902600765noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3524223.post-881087302003-01-27T13:43:00.000-05:002003-01-27T13:43:39.566-05:00Dear Chunk Letter
Every letter is a love letter in some way. Every letter, even the "Dear John," ones, even the "We Regret To Inform You," ones, even the "You're A Winner! Send Money!" ones, even the rejection letters, the "This Position Has Been Filled," letters. They all create a moment in which you can live. Which acknowledges your existence, that bends to accomodate you into the world. Katiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13825403636902600765noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3524223.post-881081642003-01-27T13:30:00.000-05:002003-01-27T13:30:47.410-05:00Chunk! A firedrill day.
It's a jungle in here.Katiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13825403636902600765noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3524223.post-880666602003-01-26T18:42:00.000-05:002003-01-26T18:45:24.000-05:00chunkier than skippier
So I began to think I was horribly lazy. Perhaps I am. Horribly lazy. But I also think of how incredibly unhappy I was Freshman and Sophmore years, and how much more hopeful and generally content I am right now, and I think maybe I should give myself credit for all the things I'm not doing, instead of punishing myself for all of the things I should be doing.
((aaargh, Katiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13825403636902600765noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3524223.post-880662032003-01-26T18:29:00.000-05:002003-01-26T18:43:51.000-05:00blowing chunks
You know what really, really blows? Opera-singing next-door neighbors butchering Billy Joel's "We Didn't Start the Fire."
It also blows to spend all day psyching yourself up to get the hell out of your room and do a yoga class you've been promising yourself for an age, to get there only to peer in at a coatrack that suggests people might be there, and have two tentative doorbellKatiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13825403636902600765noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3524223.post-879383002003-01-23T23:26:00.000-05:002003-01-23T23:26:02.376-05:00also. chunk.
I watched Mr. Smith Goes to Washington today for Film class, and it rocks. I cried like a baby. I'm such a sucker for the political-figure-faces-down-corruption theme. That explains my intense affection for The West Wing. Not so much since the "Bartlett approves killing of Sadaam-like character & coverup" plotline though. I don't like my superhumanly honest nice-guys to have Katiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13825403636902600765noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3524223.post-879377802003-01-23T23:15:00.000-05:002003-01-23T23:20:22.000-05:00I been downhearted chunk
You know how some songs are like valium? Or, more appropriately for my life: you know those songs that you're driving along and they come on the radio or the tape you're listening to and suddenly the scenery drifts into alignment, the world feels suddenly created just for this moment, with you speeding down the highway or tree-lined street bobbing your head because Katiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13825403636902600765noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3524223.post-877583562003-01-20T20:56:00.000-05:002003-01-20T20:56:45.476-05:00cheeky chunky monkey
Ok, whoever is writing in Greek on my messageboard: wow, I'm so glad you have the time to pursue this. That's excellent. I, however, don't have the time to figure this shit out, though I really would like to, and even with your helpful key of today, I am sorry but it would still require me knowing any Greek for this to be an effective means of communication. If somehow Katiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13825403636902600765noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3524223.post-877419442003-01-20T14:51:00.000-05:002003-01-20T14:51:26.260-05:00Chunk of Theologee
Dorothee Soelle, a German theologist, in her book Beyond Mere Obedience.
"To treat another person as if he were a thing is to become a thing oneself, a servant to the functioning of the very 'thing' being manipulated. By demanding sacrifice, such a person destroys his own freedom. As the one in control, he becomes the one controlled. In alienating others from that whichKatiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13825403636902600765noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3524223.post-875126822003-01-15T22:28:00.000-05:002003-01-15T22:28:38.746-05:00one small chunk before i pathetically fall into bed early
I had the thought, while in Kentucky (and I really should write, somewhere, sometime, before I forget it all, about all the neat experiences I had in Kentucky), that this was manageable. That there was something about the sunlight, the surroundings, the people, and that I could do this. I could wake up everyday in Will's house's spare Katiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13825403636902600765noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3524223.post-874340072003-01-14T15:29:00.000-05:002003-01-14T15:32:23.000-05:00chunks of satan
So here I am, feeling incredibly guilty and blaming myself up & down for the collapse of a friendship that has been gone for over a year, and which I have made every attempt to resurrect.
I was reading an interview with Mr. Rogers the other day, while looking through "Christianity Today" for references to Nicaragua for my thesis, and there was a very interesting paragraph in it.Katiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13825403636902600765noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3524223.post-873603662003-01-13T12:15:00.000-05:002003-01-13T12:15:43.533-05:00Chunk of Advice
If you drink echinacea tea, eat an oatmeal-raisin bar and then brush your teeth with Pepsodent toothpaste (all wonderful things individually, I would like to point out,) your mouth will taste like unwashed dog.
Just a tip from me to you.Katiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13825403636902600765noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3524223.post-868457532003-01-02T16:57:00.000-05:002003-01-02T16:57:23.643-05:00chunk of icy snow-death
I shoveled today. I did yoga the day before yesterday &, because I have been The Laziest Lump this vacation, I was not quite what you might call "in shape." So I still hurt today. Whoops. The shoveling was bad too. Because it wasn't just shoveling snow. It was shoveling ice. Biiiig chunks of ice. Luckily I wore good socks, two scarves & two sets of gloves, so I Katiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13825403636902600765noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3524223.post-866001682002-12-27T16:04:00.000-05:002002-12-27T16:04:56.496-05:00i don't care what anyone else says... chunk
Two Weeks Notice is a really cute goddamn movie.Katiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13825403636902600765noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3524223.post-858265122002-12-11T01:54:00.000-05:002002-12-11T01:56:05.000-05:00bippity boppity boo. a chunk.
I'm so glad I got out of my room today. Things were getting seriously ucky inside my head. I knew it had to be done, too, but I couldn't work up the nerve to do it. Three cheers for Krystal. HURRAH! HURRAH! HURRAH!
Also cool: I got to see When Harry Met Sally for the first time ever. How have I avoided this movie for so long? I plan to watch some MOVIES Katiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13825403636902600765noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3524223.post-857550922002-12-09T19:53:00.000-05:002003-01-13T12:17:29.000-05:00chunk: a hazard to myself
Just like Pink, it seems I have become a hazard to myself. Probably not others. Unless they stand too close while I am trying to feed myself.
Last night at 5 am, I could not sleep, because I was busily jumping out of my everlovin' skull. So I had the brilliant idea to make myself some tea. In the dark. Which worked fine. Except that I forgot how long I usually Katiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13825403636902600765noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3524223.post-857185912002-12-09T03:37:00.000-05:002002-12-09T03:40:47.000-05:00wisp of a chunk of a dream
I had a dream last night that I was in San Rafael Del Sur, in Nicaragua, in the ocean. That's the only time I've ever been in the Pacific Ocean. Pacific just about sums up the experience, too. I hadn't thought about it in a long time... it was like swimming in a cup of coca cola just poured from a bottle sitting on the counter -- warm, and the foam of the waves wasKatiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13825403636902600765noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3524223.post-856897882002-12-08T15:05:00.000-05:002002-12-08T15:05:41.103-05:00chunks of others
But I keep waiting for more. When's the magical part, where my whole personality changes? Where I become happier and fulfilled and less petty and needy and sad and socially retarded and much prettier and...everyone wants to be me? When does that happen? Because I'd like it to happen sooner rather than later. I don't want to have to get drastic. I don't want to have to move to Katiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13825403636902600765noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3524223.post-856657242002-12-07T23:23:00.000-05:002002-12-07T23:24:01.000-05:00don't you chunk it's time for bed?
I feel so guilty, I only wrote one paragraph today.
But I'm beginning to slur my words, i'm so tired, so to bed I go.
me: Coolio. (pause) Did I just say "coolio"?
alex: Yes. You need to go to bed.Katiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13825403636902600765noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3524223.post-856286392002-12-07T01:08:00.000-05:002002-12-07T01:29:29.000-05:00CHunk CHristmas
Brownie bowls and excellent boyfriends make everything better, y'all. No matter how downinthedumpydumpdumps I am, a nice broad Alexy shoulder and a big heaping hunk of warm brownie and vanilla icecream, hot fudge and whipped cream is sure to set things right. Right-er, anyway.
Anyhow. I'm going to post my Christmas Wish List here, because anybody who's anybody who might be Katiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13825403636902600765noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3524223.post-855815112002-12-06T02:23:00.000-05:002002-12-06T02:24:16.000-05:00chunk of early morning in my head
I tried sleeping. It didn't work. Here's a hint: don't read very engaging, thought-provoking material before bed. I was better off with my first instinct, to read something I've read a buncha times before. But instead, I'm reading this book about Witness for Peace by Ed Griffin-Nolan, and it's terribly engaging and thought-provoking, & is giving me lots of Katiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13825403636902600765noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3524223.post-855765442002-12-05T23:52:00.000-05:002002-12-05T23:52:37.740-05:00chunk of so happy
Love at first listen: Paul Westerberg.Katiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13825403636902600765noreply@blogger.com