when i was growing up, my sister was typically my first go-to for companionship. even though she's four and a half years my senior, i was typically allowed to tag along with she and her gang. of course, when i say "allowed," i mean "forced to."
one of my favorite of her friends was a fun, friendly and very funny kid named joe. he would come to our house and we would all enjoy whatever game it was we wanted to play for the day. on one such afternoon when i was about 4 years old, my mother had left my sister and joe in charge of watching me while she ran some errands in the neighborhood.
we were going about our standard forms of distraction when i got the great idea of showing joe "what i could do..."
dividing the kitchen from the living room was a wet bar that had 2 tall stools that sat on the living room side, over thick carpet. how cool would it be to show joe how skilled i was at standing on that stool. it would be ok, because i could hold onto the low part of the ceiling for support.
"look, joe!"
"no!... no, get down. you could fall and get hurt-"
"no, it's ok. i know how to do it."
"no, this isn't a good idea, c'mon, get down"
his intention was good, but his execution of saving me from my impeding doom was, shall we say, ironically ineffective. 9-year-olds typically don't think things all the way through before attempting to do them. he grabbed me around the knees, and i collapsed like a souffle. the ledge of the wet bar made direct contact with my mouth with stunning accuracy. and all of this happened, to my sister's horror as my mother pulled into the driveway.
i don't remember much more after the moment i came to my ma and spit out a mouthful of blood. one thing i've been able to remember, though, is not to stand on the tall stools at the wet bar ever, ever again.
-k
Tuesday, August 31, 2010
Monday, August 30, 2010
back in school again, max who plays the fool again
today i commenced my monday classes.
my schedule begins with a 9:30am class that runs until 11:30.
then, i have a class from 11:30 until 1:30pm (luckily, the 2 classes are just down the hall from one another).
i am to break until 5:30pm, when i have class until 9:30pm.
...
or so i thought.
when my second class let out early, i decided to get a bite, grab some dry groceries, then figure out what to do until class began. i decided pretty quickly that a nap would be in my best interest. i pulled in under a tree in the school parking lot, put my music on low, reclined back as far as i could, put my feet up and snoooozed until about 4. when i woke i was burning up, so i decided to go into the building and get something cool and caffeinated to drink. as per usual, the line in the book store was practically wrapped around the whole storefront, but i had time, so i waited it out. 10 minutes, 2 double-shots and a large bottle of frappuccino later, i was on my way to the lab i was to have class in. since i was there early, i figured i would wait for a bit and see if i could get someone to unlock the door in. someone did, and i sat working in illustrator for what seemed like only a short time, but was in fact about a half hour, when i heard from outside the door some people talking. one of them said, "oh, yeah, this is a second start class..."
the class doesn't start until september 25.
this new piece of information mixed with the copious amounts of coffee in my stomach was, to say the least, nauseating. still, i picked up my things, logged out and headed home.
i was 15 minutes into my gridlock drive, and very ready to not be sitting in traffic anymore. the rest of my body agreed, and i soon found myself leaning over a gas station porcelain bowl, watching a $4 lunch and $7 worth of coffee being flushed counterclockwise down the pisser.
though i felt physically more comfortable, at this point all i wanted was to be in bed. miraculously, i made it home and began to unload my groceries. just at my stairs, the fridge pack of fresca in my hand ripped and dropped to my feet. having been loaded down with other things, i left the mess on the ground to come back for. after retrieving the 12 pack, i went to open my door, and found that my mom was good enough to lock it before i could even get back inside.
other mishaps begot themselves after the door was relocked behind me, but the last thing i remember was collapsing face-first onto my bed. and not a moment too soon.
i believe i called it fairly when before i passed out, i said to no one in particular,
"muck fondays."
-k
my schedule begins with a 9:30am class that runs until 11:30.
then, i have a class from 11:30 until 1:30pm (luckily, the 2 classes are just down the hall from one another).
i am to break until 5:30pm, when i have class until 9:30pm.
...
or so i thought.
when my second class let out early, i decided to get a bite, grab some dry groceries, then figure out what to do until class began. i decided pretty quickly that a nap would be in my best interest. i pulled in under a tree in the school parking lot, put my music on low, reclined back as far as i could, put my feet up and snoooozed until about 4. when i woke i was burning up, so i decided to go into the building and get something cool and caffeinated to drink. as per usual, the line in the book store was practically wrapped around the whole storefront, but i had time, so i waited it out. 10 minutes, 2 double-shots and a large bottle of frappuccino later, i was on my way to the lab i was to have class in. since i was there early, i figured i would wait for a bit and see if i could get someone to unlock the door in. someone did, and i sat working in illustrator for what seemed like only a short time, but was in fact about a half hour, when i heard from outside the door some people talking. one of them said, "oh, yeah, this is a second start class..."
the class doesn't start until september 25.
this new piece of information mixed with the copious amounts of coffee in my stomach was, to say the least, nauseating. still, i picked up my things, logged out and headed home.
i was 15 minutes into my gridlock drive, and very ready to not be sitting in traffic anymore. the rest of my body agreed, and i soon found myself leaning over a gas station porcelain bowl, watching a $4 lunch and $7 worth of coffee being flushed counterclockwise down the pisser.
though i felt physically more comfortable, at this point all i wanted was to be in bed. miraculously, i made it home and began to unload my groceries. just at my stairs, the fridge pack of fresca in my hand ripped and dropped to my feet. having been loaded down with other things, i left the mess on the ground to come back for. after retrieving the 12 pack, i went to open my door, and found that my mom was good enough to lock it before i could even get back inside.
other mishaps begot themselves after the door was relocked behind me, but the last thing i remember was collapsing face-first onto my bed. and not a moment too soon.
i believe i called it fairly when before i passed out, i said to no one in particular,
"muck fondays."
-k
Thursday, August 26, 2010
spinning top mama
when i am deep in thought i twirl my hair. i've even been seen twirling with both hands at once... while walking (that was a pretty deep day...). i suppose it's better than biting my nails or gnawing on pen caps, but if you know me well enough, you know that when i'm twirling my hair, chances are that there's something weighing on my mind.
these days, as a college student with two jobs and a fairly full social agenda, i'm noticing that my habit may lead to me being propelled right off the ground, as my twirling has become almost ferocious.
but as i make my way into this new semester i think i will try to let any flash of inspiration flourish instead of sparkle for only a moment, dim and eventually smother out. for every time i feel truly clever, there are probably three or four more times when i feel below par. if somehow i can channel my bursts of energy (small as they sometimes tend to be) i just might be able to progress myself into a heightened feeling of self confidence. instead of just hoping for more hours in the day, i'll have to do more within the hours i already have. i'll have to loosen my grip on unimportant trifles. i'll have to roll with the punches. i'll have to let my feet do some of the twirling.
-k
these days, as a college student with two jobs and a fairly full social agenda, i'm noticing that my habit may lead to me being propelled right off the ground, as my twirling has become almost ferocious.
but as i make my way into this new semester i think i will try to let any flash of inspiration flourish instead of sparkle for only a moment, dim and eventually smother out. for every time i feel truly clever, there are probably three or four more times when i feel below par. if somehow i can channel my bursts of energy (small as they sometimes tend to be) i just might be able to progress myself into a heightened feeling of self confidence. instead of just hoping for more hours in the day, i'll have to do more within the hours i already have. i'll have to loosen my grip on unimportant trifles. i'll have to roll with the punches. i'll have to let my feet do some of the twirling.
Tuesday, August 24, 2010
old soul
it's not that i don't want to go out and be social. really, i'm 21 with good style and good taste as far as venues go. but i get home from a day of work (nowadays from 2 jobs worth starting at 8am on the opposite side of town) and all i want to do is disrobe and veg.
that's only the first part of it. it gives me an uneasy feeling of snobbery when i feel that i'm somewhat advanced from my peers, and even a few slightly senior friends. not in years, of course, and not necessarily in life experiences. i feel that as far as maturity and emotions go, i'm streets ahead of a lot of people. and this comes a lot from my observation and analysis of others. don't get me wrong; i learn more from the people around me than i do from actual schooling. hell, i'll even admit that i'm a genuinely rotten student. still, i can't help but feel that in comparison to most of my acquaintances, i have an advantage.
i don't report this to blow my own horn, or even as a dig for a compliment or criticism. i note it because i feel as though i'm one of few. i've always been told that one is defined by the company he keeps. that being said, i've been able to collect a fair group of friends who balance my eccentricities and affinities for some certain oddities. why, then am i unsatisfied by any romantic prospects? am i that picky? that snobby? or, in my confusing and prematurely aged persona, am i that undesirable?
-ki
that's only the first part of it. it gives me an uneasy feeling of snobbery when i feel that i'm somewhat advanced from my peers, and even a few slightly senior friends. not in years, of course, and not necessarily in life experiences. i feel that as far as maturity and emotions go, i'm streets ahead of a lot of people. and this comes a lot from my observation and analysis of others. don't get me wrong; i learn more from the people around me than i do from actual schooling. hell, i'll even admit that i'm a genuinely rotten student. still, i can't help but feel that in comparison to most of my acquaintances, i have an advantage.
i don't report this to blow my own horn, or even as a dig for a compliment or criticism. i note it because i feel as though i'm one of few. i've always been told that one is defined by the company he keeps. that being said, i've been able to collect a fair group of friends who balance my eccentricities and affinities for some certain oddities. why, then am i unsatisfied by any romantic prospects? am i that picky? that snobby? or, in my confusing and prematurely aged persona, am i that undesirable?
-ki
Saturday, August 21, 2010
stare- unabashedly, if you have to
i've come to find that i am a people watcher. i suppose you could call me an eves dropper... unflattering as that may sound... and though it's not uncommon to participate in this, i find myself doing it so much that it no longer applies to my habits, but more to a skill. some may call it sad, creepy even to latch onto other peoples' social agendas more so than my own... but sometimes i can bore even myself when left to my own entertainment devices.
in most cases, i'll be sitting on my own to a meal or a cup of joe, and catch myself silently wandering into the nearest, or in many cases loudest conversation taking place. you can't always hope for a gem, mainly because the loudest ones are rarely sober and/or intelligent. but as a habitual people watcher, i've stumbled upon a good handful of special, oddball conversations. the most entertaining of which are often the conversations between children. children old enough to hold an actual banter, but haven't hit adolescence. teen-aged bitching is the worst. working in a pottery painting establishment, listening in on some genuinely funny chats is a daily occurrence...
"...no, don't, don't make fun of, of that. because, because there actually are? like, some people? and they like actually have like ringworms..."
"yeah, but like only people in like china..."
"yeah, why is it things like that only happen to like china people?-"
"because, because everything happens in china. everything, everything is made in china..."
"nuh-uh. nuh-uh-"
"yeah! everything is made in china."
"noooo? no, because i? had something that said 'made in taiwan'..."
"taiwan is in china."
"well, whatever. just don't make fun of ringworm."
i wonder, though, as i sit here with my computer, throwing handfuls of hash browns back into my gob, allowing some to roll out of my mouth and onto my lap and the surrounding floor, if there isn't someone sitting and watching me as i watch others.
am i, myself a focal point of judgment?
i dust the last of the crumbs from my face and the front of my shirt...
who cares? let 'em judge. who am i to take away the empowering feeling of secret narrative authority?
-k
in most cases, i'll be sitting on my own to a meal or a cup of joe, and catch myself silently wandering into the nearest, or in many cases loudest conversation taking place. you can't always hope for a gem, mainly because the loudest ones are rarely sober and/or intelligent. but as a habitual people watcher, i've stumbled upon a good handful of special, oddball conversations. the most entertaining of which are often the conversations between children. children old enough to hold an actual banter, but haven't hit adolescence. teen-aged bitching is the worst. working in a pottery painting establishment, listening in on some genuinely funny chats is a daily occurrence...
"...no, don't, don't make fun of, of that. because, because there actually are? like, some people? and they like actually have like ringworms..."
"yeah, but like only people in like china..."
"yeah, why is it things like that only happen to like china people?-"
"because, because everything happens in china. everything, everything is made in china..."
"nuh-uh. nuh-uh-"
"yeah! everything is made in china."
"noooo? no, because i? had something that said 'made in taiwan'..."
"taiwan is in china."
"well, whatever. just don't make fun of ringworm."
i wonder, though, as i sit here with my computer, throwing handfuls of hash browns back into my gob, allowing some to roll out of my mouth and onto my lap and the surrounding floor, if there isn't someone sitting and watching me as i watch others.
am i, myself a focal point of judgment?
i dust the last of the crumbs from my face and the front of my shirt...
who cares? let 'em judge. who am i to take away the empowering feeling of secret narrative authority?
-k
and so it begins
when once before i used a blog to record my romantic shortcomings, this time around, i'll be sure to reach further beyond the typical "dear diary" style of writing. thus attempting to avoid such subjects that might send the general public to sleep.
it may not be every day that an update will occur, but i'll try and keep the page as current as possible. be it a one sentence kind of day, or an entry filled with many paragraphs of philosophical theories and provocative content, complete with images and maybe even a soundtrack, i'll try my damnedest to produce something of at least mild value and common interest.
so here we begin with varying degrees of depth and entertainment: a new blog, a new page, a new day to chew the fat.
i'll try to keep it down to a dull roar.
-k
it may not be every day that an update will occur, but i'll try and keep the page as current as possible. be it a one sentence kind of day, or an entry filled with many paragraphs of philosophical theories and provocative content, complete with images and maybe even a soundtrack, i'll try my damnedest to produce something of at least mild value and common interest.
so here we begin with varying degrees of depth and entertainment: a new blog, a new page, a new day to chew the fat.
i'll try to keep it down to a dull roar.
-k
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