Rain Shock

I typed "Katie likes to" into google and am copying down the top 10 results. This is a chain epidemic going around. I thought I'd join in.
1. Katie likes to be in pictures
Accuracy: I guess I do, I guess I just like pictures in general more though.
2. Katie likes to keep Paul on his toes.
Accuracy: Yes, I do keep my father always wondering.
3. Katie likes to run around. In cotton panties and a crown. She driving all the boy's insane. Suckin on a candy cane.
Accuracy: Well, that's true.
4. Katie likes to say that she teaches "domesticity for dummies"
Accuracy: I don't think this can be taught. No.
5. Katie likes to dance.
Accuracy: Very.
6. Katie likes to hit things.
Accuracy: I'm a fairly nonviolent being
7.Katie likes to hopscotch.
Accuracy: Not currently hopscotching.
8. Katie likes to help in the kitchen
Accuracy: My favorite household chore is doing the dishes. I think it's the warmth.
9. Katie likes to drive go-carts and collects stamps. Her favorite food is spaghetti with meatballs AND vegetables.
Accuracy: False except the AND vegetables.
10. Katie likes to be silly too!
Accuracy: High.

I am experiencing a two week period of constant homework and paper writing. It's intense. I'm in the middle of reading Don Delillo's White Noise. I'm only 80 pages in but it's really pretty funny. It is structurally/narratively very different from any other book I've read. Apparently Delillo is way up there as far as postmodern novelists go. Go him.

I received some really bad news tonight concerning a family member. Not death-bad. But bad-bad. I don't wish to display it publicly, but all I can say is that the world is cruel. Although I like to think of my family as a funny anecdotal petri dish, there is a point when dysfunctionality peaks into a nonhumorous zone. I only wish I could give them some large encompassing hug of protection. But that doesn't ever work out. My footsteps keep getting closer towards the big sign that says futility, and I'm kind of ready to take the dropping out of school and sleeping constantly train.


Chugachugawoowoo.

That ice is slowly melting

This week has unfolded in a most serendipitous manner. Work was canceled on Wednesday, today my first two classes were canceled, work has been canceled for tomorrow, and Monday is a Holiday. I have so much work though, so this ease comes at a good moment. I'm also going through a rough cold. I've been playing that obnoxious sneezing girl in class who blows her dripping nose every twenty seconds. The other day in my Shakespeare Film class we were watching West Side Story and an intended to be tender moment came on. My nose started running and I had to blow hard into my tissue. I probably looked like a sentimental sap crying over Maria and Tony's ill destined love, but no, not me.

I have to write a paper on the movie Crash this weekend and how it relates to ethnicity and stereotypes. It's one of those papers that seems so easy that it's almost difficult to do. Overall, I really didn't care for the movie. It was completely full of racism. Yeah, I get that's the point. It's supposed to put the harsh, real stuff out there to make people aware. But the ending was not redeeming and if anything it just repeated bad stereotypes over and over. The film almost seemed self aware that it was supposed to be this great revolutionary movie the whole time. Not to mention anything with Sandra Bullock and Brendan Frasier I refuse to take seriously.

Right outside my apartment I slipped on ice and fell down today. I bruised my knee pretty badly and got some cuts on my hand. I've decided nothing can make you feel less in control or more of an idiot than falling on ice. There is an awkward buffoonery to it that has no rival.

I've decided to include pictures of me that are on my computer that probably nobody has seen much of. For critical entertainment purposes.

The Blue Frog in Bad Decline

Currently at the library riffling through my fellow creative writers work. I have to write them all a one page response to their stories. With one page written, I look on to two more. The one I'm working on was thoroughly a bad story. I hate writing about someone's work I can't take seriously in any way. Though, it might be preferable to someone who I think writes amazingly. Yeah, who knows. My short story is due Tuesday and my writing thoughts are still barren. Any ideas? Sarah J., I'm calling to you for your word inspired madnessgeniusgene.

Fifty degrees out feels wonderful.

I wish my hair were in utero.



Amir,
Kate

Look to love

I wrote until 3 am last night. All very personal and not anything that can be shaped into a story. And never did my class reading. Funny how productivity can be somehow unproductive.
I have to run to work in 15 minutes, but I just wanted to make a comment that I want forever cemented in my mind.

While watching Franco Zefferelli's Romeo and Juliet in my Shakespeare on film class (which is taught by a professor and includes writing assignments unlike any other semester before where there was no work) I couldn't help but stare in awe at the beautiful woman that played Juliet. Or rather, girl. She was only fifteen when filming and yet she possesses a glorious beauty, and also shared her breasts. I couldn't help but think, wow, I want to look like her. But then I probably wouldn't stop looking at the mirror.

Olivia Hussey, gorgeous.

Fantasies of Ice Cream

My hand is splitting open with the cold and bleeding. I am not that into lotion. My hand looks like it's been through something traumatic.
It's hard when you are asked to explain something about yourself and then you sound confused and you don't even know if what you're trying to say is true. That has happened to me a lot this week.
I have to bake a long short story this weekend and have it pop out of the oven by Tuesday morning. And so far I haven't even got flour.
I keep meaning to do work, keep meaning to act like I care about anything academic. And then I fall into something else. Just slip deviously, albeit self aware, into a saggy little heap of idleness.

I just watched a movie that I actually really liked. I'm kind of glad I watched it instead of doing anything else. I always watch movies and never really feel like I enjoyed them that much. This was different. Go Getter. The cinematography was beautiful. I loved the main actor. It was probably the most compelling romantic storyline in a movie that I have seen in a very long time. I don't even know why. Maybe because it was so matter of fact and awkward and wasn't the whole purpose for the film. Mmm.




Away I go to read off into Atlantis and to a sleep that dreams don't wait for.