The World's Blankiest Blank

i disappear for a while, then post quizzes?

Wed, 22 Aug 2007 22:17:11 GMT

Wed, 23 May 2007 20:03:43 GMT

ahahaha i lost the password to my livejournal, and i didn't even think of doing a password reset until... like, now.

i'm back in ABQ, working at Starbucks (I40/San Mateo), taking classes (Phil156/BellyDance), generally being very tired and reclusive and awkward all the time. rock!

one day: real entries.

On Vox: hello (again):

Tue, 03 Apr 2007 18:25:24 GMT

oh, why hello Vox! i'd almost forgotten about you.
let's see, now. how to begin.

things worth mentioning
(either recent events or facts about me)

1. i ~~like~~ love to fuck around with text formatting.

Bottoms of Barrels

on Friday, T and I went to The Mill (a bar/restaurant/performance space
in downtown Iowa City) for a night of music. playing were Goldenbirds,
Skursula, Baby Teeth, and Tilly and the Wall. It was heart-stoppingly
good. i haven't felt so alive in a very long time. no words can describe.

2. i went to Uni Counseling Services today for an... evaluation of sorts.
it was decided my best course of action is to talk to student health's
psyhiatrists, to get different opinions on my current medications. eh.
3. apparently, even when i'm convinced of my failure, my performance in class
or on tests and exams proves differently. b u t i still won't do my homework.

Doug and i have very different ideas of what makes a good movie.
the perils of being an "artist",   and having a comedian boyfriend.
we do agree on what makes a shitty    movie    though, haha.

i went to Des Moines this weekend to visit my brother and sister-in-law.
i was there for a grand total of [exactly] 2 4 hours, and in that time, we
went out to eat three times, and watched two and half movies, plus a
marathon of American Gladiators. this was a lot, because i typically
don't watch tv, but you know what?    it was okay.    i was content, and i
wasn't restless or bored.    i was just happy to be with them.
i don't know why some of these little
bits of information are numbered and
others are not.    it is a mystery.

4. my favorite movie of all time is All Dogs Go To Heaven.
i have not been to my speech class
in two days. i should e mail my
professor and explain my situation.
and i should do it       right now.

Originally posted on estrellada.vox.com

excuses

Wed, 21 Mar 2007 05:22:37 GMT

Things that hold my interest lately:

Spunk. Mmmhmm.
Carmax. I'm looking for a car, irrationally. I would like one, anyway, though the possibilities for me getting one are slim, even if it is a slightly inexpensive one. Ideally, I'd like an older Honda CRV, or a new Honda Fit. They're fierce and cheap.
Vox. Oooh if I could get people to join this, it would completely extinguish the need for multiple websites on which to... do stuff. It's MySpace, LiveJournal, DeviantART, Photobucket, YouTube, and fucking everything in one! I love it.
AK Press. If I could afford to buy more [anarcho]books, I would.
CrimethInc.. ... but these people took my [anarcho]book money! I finished Days of War, Nights of Love some time ago, but I'm reading it again because I'm using it for my comic project -- I abandoned my original idea. Whatevs.
Palahniuk's Writing Workshop. Best. Writing Resource. Ever!

Really, I need to write an entry... a real one. Not just excuses for one.

Until then, this is the [MySpace] blog I wrote about the first half of my Spring Break:

saturday: hooray for being home! not that i really remember a good deal of what i did. i ran errands. i went to Desert Rose at eight for the Theater Roosevelt show, and bopped over to The Box at ten for... something. Improv with puppets, but not Wowie-Ka-Bowzo!. I enjoyed them both, for sures. and Jennifer came! happy-go-lucky funtimes at Edie/Gold afterwards. nothing too noteworthy, i'm afraid - no crashed cars or bloody homeless.

sunday: my parents and i signed contracts/etc. for an apartment at Mesa del Oso -- did i mention we sold the house? well, we did; yay! -- and we sat around. i baked delicious vegan/sugar-free banana bread. i don't want to toot my own horn, but no joke - that shit was fabulous.

monday: whatwhat, coffeetime! Jennifer and i went on our usual date, where we swapped stories and gossip and talked shit. later, i made Doug go to Annapurna. originally, i was hoping he wouldn't know what it was (so i could sneak it up on him - surprise! no meat or preservatives!) but seriously, it was delicious. how do i know? because we both enjoyed it. clearly, ayuervedic cuisine caters to both ends of the eating spectrum. and then we enoyed Mean Girls, because nobody can ever watch that movie enough.

tuesday: prepare for the awkwardness of Kara's First OBGYN Visit: it's not as bad as it sounds. it wasn't bad at all. a little uncomfortable, but overall, whatever. life goes on after some doctor pokes around at my naughty bits. i did get my first dose of the HPV vaccine, which later made me queasy, but overall, not bad. afterwards, i took my mom to 20 Carrots, where i enoyed some fabulous brown rice/avocado/tempeh/sunnyseed bowl thing and a bizarre wheat grass-based drink. this could have contributed to the queasiness. we went home, and i began The Great Purge - and it felt so good. it feels so, so good to say goodbye to so much unnecessary stuff. and then i ate pbj. yum! i also installed the new cd/dvdrw drive in Cerebro (after how many years, my home computer just now gets a name?), and now i'm inspired - i want to build a computer this summer. yup.

wednesday: woke up early, but still ran late. took Kalli for a job around the block before going to the dentist. i had three cavities filled - it was atrocious. i felt like the elephant man afterwards. so i visited Stoebs, because that's what you do when your face is numb? whatever. lurked around the school for a bit before heading off to lunch with Steve at Asian Noodle Bar. it was delicious, and Steve was feeling flippy, so it was a good lunch indeed. we went to Cold Stone afterwards, which i had to laugh at because neither of us eat ice cream... but we went anyway. i had a delicious smoothie (mango/banana/sorbet), and Steve had some raspberry sorbet with KitKats and Reeses mixed in. haha. i then went to Coffeetime Round 2, which mostly consisted of staring into the sun and talking about American Idol and those fucking kids from Del Norte. after that, i went to Flying Star with Doug, because all i do is eat.

whatever.

You can tell I grew progressively more tired as I wrote that, haha.

My last night home was St. Patty's, in which I attended a party at Doug's. Beforehand, I went to Elephant Bar with my parents. It was okay. I also went to Cinema Loca at The Box - hilarity! The party at Doug's was fairly uneventful, but fun. I enjoy socializing, even if "socializing" means quietly listening to other people's conversations. That's how I socialize.

After everyone left, Doug and I curled up in bed for a while before I had to leave. Really, it was unusual, but not in an uncomfortable or awkward way. It was very sad, but still happy, and just so... contradictory. He insisted that everything he said was true, not desperate drunk-speak, and I believe him -- I've had enough drunk-in-bed-at-three-am conversations to know the difference between truth and drunk-speak.

He said lots of things. He said he could marry me˚. If he ever had children, he would want them with me. I'd be hot pregnant. He could be with me forever.

I cry, I do, just not believably and not infront of other people. Thus, I always feel bad when other people cry and I don't. He did, and I could have, but I didn't. I cried when I went home, alone, on my floor instead.

˚This makes me feel exceptionally guilty (in addition to my inability to cry), because I don't believe in marriage. A part of it is that ridiculous anarchist belief, most accurately expressed in the movie Frida: "I don't believe in marriage. No, I really don't. Let me be clear about that. I think at worst it's a hostile political act, a way for small-minded men to keep women in the house and out of the way, wrapped up in the guise of tradition and conservative religious nonsense. At best, it's a happy delusion - these two people who truly love each other and have no idea how truly miserable they're about to make each other. But, but, when two people know that, and they decide with eyes wide open to face each other and get married anyway, then I don't think it's conservative or delusional. I think it's radical and courageous and very romantic." Alternatively, I also can't imagine that I would be able to be content with one person eternally -- I'm not so complacent. That's really it. For some reason, I felt this needed to be a footnote. LOLZ.

Now I'm tired and sad.

I slept twelve hours last night, not my usual four. I shouldn't be allowed to be tired.

tambien:

Tue, 27 Feb 2007 03:18:29 GMT

¡¡TENGO HAMBRE MUCHO TODO DIA!! ¿¿POR QUE??

the art avalanche

Mon, 26 Feb 2007 23:20:26 GMT

&&first two comic pages for class:

But tell us how you're really feeling.

Wed, 21 Feb 2007 01:40:49 GMT

i worked out at fitness loft east for the first time today and it was fantastic!

i weighed myself afterwards, and it said 133.

i am dubious.

[de]?evolution

Sun, 18 Feb 2007 22:25:52 GMT

there is a pound of chocolate sitting on my desk. it belongs to Alex, but he doesn't want to eat it because he's sooo fat, and knowing him, he would just sit down and eat it all at once. so he gave it to Theresa to hide. and she gave it to me. since i don't eat chocolate. i'm the only one not likely to just take it and eat it.

i finally did my laundry, four machines worth.

i feel like things should be coming together, and they have been - particularly academically.

but i feel like i'm unraveling at the seams.
my skin is falling apart, away, bit by bit by molecule by atom by nucleus by proton.

Thu, 01 Feb 2007 05:51:11 GMT

once upon a time, not too long ago and certainly not in a galaxy far, far away, there was a little girl. now, this little girl was hardly little anymore; no, she was quite grown, but really, she remained quite young in many ways. her aversion to homework and responsibility made it blatant that she was indeed quite infantile, as did her wild mood swings and flights of fantasy.

her life was hardly her own, due to this uncontrollable imagination she posessed, though it was rarely evident from things she did. she was bright, and usually did her homework. she studied well (after the pills came in). she enjoyed school, but she also drew comics and wrote stories and letters when she should have been doing more important things; "masterpieces," she said sometimes. she enjoyed her life of fiction, and it was only when confronted with the cold backhand of reality that she let her mind swing from it's realm of creative abandon and flightless journey to harsh skepticism and deep depression. however, her lows were not without their creative peaks, and she used this to her advantage quite often. "trash," she said afterwards.

one day, the little girl decided it would be an excellent idea to take a creative writing course - it would be challenging, but she would still have an opportunity to stretch her creative muscles in a way conducive to her education. she entered this class with high hopes and delusions of grandeur. she was immediately brought back to reality. the assignments were difficult for her (though not for any particular reason within her control), and she often put off the reading until the last minute, making her in-class discussion comments weak and unfounded.

she knew she was smarter and more capable than this, but being infantile, the little girl tended to retaliate to situations unresponsive to such action. this led her to put off assignments, which in turn made her writing substandard and shameful and hardly creative at all, as far as she was concerned. but one day, something great happened.

the poet assgined his usual nonfiction homework - a personal narrative. now, the little girl had experienced some problems with this in the past, but this time, instead of childhood memories or dramatic resonance, he assigned the class to write of their most signifigant, life-changing moment. he insisted this moment did not have to be dramatic - in fact, the most signifigant moments are usually very small and normal - but it has to mean something. he also added, "be honest. write honestly. don't absolve yourself and don't explain too much. you aren't brilliant, pure, or intelligent. write without sugar coatings, rounded edges, and justifications."

this excited the little girl greatly - her life was full of changes, and she remembered many of them vividly. the most signifigant were, of course, the most recent. she remembered them the most, and they seemed to have the most resonance on her life at the present time. but which one could she write about? she filed through the events of the year before - the good, the bad, the forgorgivable and awful, the magical, the romantic. she couldn't decide.

she put off the assignment. she worked on spanish homework, studied her vocabularío, and completed her comic for the week. she still couldn't decide on what moment, what event had the most life-altering impact.

a day before the assignment was due, the little girl was wrecked with a horrible headache. it made her heart ache too, and her shoulders and body. she wanted to die, and she could not recall the last time she felt this way, for it was a very very long time ago. but then, it came to her. her life-altering moment. her epiphany.

she wrote, long-hand, this tale, with the knowledge that she would have to type it up later. her head pounded as she did but as she finally wrote it down, it felt as though a great weight was lifted from her. she was finally saying it, writing all these things she could never before. she was honest - brutally. it was whimsical and harsh, creative, musically ambivalent. she was honest and real and pure, though these thoughts and events were hardly pure. she felt pure afterwards, as though this guilt and disgust has been purged from her body. cleansed. she felt simple, when she read her own truths, and simplicity is all she had ever wanted.

she took some ibuprofen. she ate dinner and worked out. she returned to the page, and examined it, unsure of how or where to begin typing, how she could begin it. so instead, she began writing an unnecessarily long tale about the process of writing that tale.

and she was left, hoping for the best, thinking that maybe this could be something good, marvelous, admired. the poet would like it, and he would praise her, instead of staring at her awkwardly, or watching the florescent lights flicker as she spoke. her delusions of grandeur returned.

one day, remind me to tell you about everything.

nothing

Sat, 27 Jan 2007 08:46:57 GMT

My name is Mary, birth mother of your Christ. My name is Eileen and you keep trying to tell me come on come on. My name is Helena and I am dejected, alone, and wishing I could be you and you and you. My name is Jennifer, Lara, Theresa, Jeffrey, Kara, Wednesday, Adam Hahn.

And you:

You are the sun: too distant beautiful and glowing hot to be experienced, to be touched, to be felt and I mean felt, that way in which you really feel something, to know it. And at one point, I thought I knew, but I thought I knew a lot of things, but you oh you have taught me so much, and I thank you. Thank you. Thank you.

It’s in this stillness that there is truth, and in nothing that I can find everything. It’s knowing that I’m sitting alone in the dark alone; more alone than I have ever felt and ever been, even though I’m not the only person in the room. There are others, I’m surrounded yes, but oh god my eyes are heavy with sleep and the way your heat feels on my face, forcing this distance, and forgetting. It’s the truth found in alone, in dark, in silence and still, and endless mind shit rambling fuck, never stops and my head just pounds with this pressure to think and feel and know nothing, because nothing is pure and simple and so so simple and I yearn I long to know simple.

Drum machines, guitar chords, acapella, if I could sing this to you in a way you would recognize and know, if I could just sing so you could hear and see and know what I know as I know because
I k n o w
But I don’t say it or feel it or know it because that’s not the point, it’s awareness not recognition, not science and grammar and thought. It’s free-flowing eloquent and disgusting and alone. It’s you alone and me alone and this awareness that comes when it’s still, it’s dark, it’s nothing: the epiphany that nothing is nothing is nothing is everything.

This distance this heat is everything between us, within us, separating us. It’s I love hate fuck you, pain in my stomach and fear in my heart and you and the way quiet makes it louder and louder and louder until it’s this deafening roar in my ears and all I can hear is

Nothing

But the way I remember his heart beating in my ear
And it’s like nothing I’ve ever heard or known
It’s simplicity and purity and
everything

And I sleep
Finally
Knowing.

When I wake up, I ask again.

Sat, 27 Jan 2007 08:46:01 GMT

i learned to swing dance.
i danced once in two hours. badly.
i [re]learned social rejection.
i made a friend. Cory.
i [re]learned social rejection.
i learned i am forgettable.
i [re]learned i am forgettable.
i wrote something.
i [re]learned disappointment.

bomb drop

Fri, 26 Jan 2007 07:07:43 GMT

Kara's Asshole Quote o' The Day
"This is actually reassuring, because I thought you got raped or somebody died."

Thu, 25 Jan 2007 17:56:20 GMT

Worst. Morning. Ever.

I woke up whereabouts 8:10, when Theresa came back. Two seconds later, no exaggeration, my alarm went off. I turned it off, and sat very still for about six minutes. I took a shower. I got dressed, mussed my hair, and sat down to check my email. I put my contacts in. I realized around nine, I'm running short on time. I put on some eyeliner while I cooked Malt-o-Meal in the microwave. I left it in too long, and it burned. On the way to trash can, I dropped the bowl. Malt-o-Meal fucking everywhere. On my desk, shoes, carpet, walls. I screamed and made a quick effort in cleaning it up with dry paper towels, and had some success. Grab a Luna bar (which I don't eat), and run. Realize, this happened all in about ten minutes.

This was all just insult to injury. I hate being rushed. I hate feeling like I don't have enough time to do everything I need to. It stresses me out more than anything. So previous to the Malt-o-Meal incident, I was already freaking out.

In Creative Writing, I made a jackass of myself. This isn't unusual, just upsetting. My contacts started to bother me ten minutes in, and so I was blinking constantly and playing with my eyes. I didn't read like I should have, so my comments were easily shot down and explained by someone smarter than me. I had such a hard time doing the writing exercise last night because I don't remember my childhood, so the whole paper was very formal and essay-like and wholly uncreative. I hated it, but it's all I could do last minute and with no memory, so I turned it in. I left feeling a little better because I can do this week's assignment, and do it well, hopefully.

Upon my return to N30, I decide to eat some cereal, because it requires little preperation. Of course, in the process of getting my Cheerios, I spill them all over - in the dresser drawers, all over the floor. The cereal was unsatisfying, soggy, and gross. The whole room smells like burnt Malt-o-Meal, and it makes me nauseous.

I just want to cry for a while, read Watership Down, and take a nap.

Uuggghhhghhghh.

¡¡¡¿¿¿que???!!!

Tue, 23 Jan 2007 15:49:46 GMT

Supposedly, when you're fluent in a language, you'll start dreaming in it. But I am far from fluent in Spanish, and yet I'm still dreaming in it? Except, I'm only dreaming in the words I know, so nothing makes any sense!

Me gusta hablar español.

I want to give Shannon a hug from 1,233 miles away.

Also, why is it that I can't write or draw when it's necessary for me to do so? I can write pages of nonsense, but once I'm supposed to write a personal narrative of my first childhood memory, it's absolutely impossible. It's extremely frustrating.

I do like waking up early though. This means I can get things done today, since I haven't done anything in about a week. Seriously. The plan so far includes venturing to the Co-Op, CVS, The Student Involvement Fair, and my research study. Yeah! Research credit! I get to sit around a take a survey about moodiness. I'm a fucking expert on moodiness.

I also have the intention of cutting my hair. WHAAAAT? You heard me. This mess has to be fixed by someone who knows what they're doing.

Really, this entry serves no purpose. I was just online, and I wanted to do something to kill time until ten-ish.

Wed, 17 Jan 2007 19:15:55 GMT

Things Kara has spent money she doesn't have on:

Conversations: Readings for Writings $45
Avenidas: A Journey in Spanish $80
Avenidas: A Journey in Spanish Workbook $65
Psychology: The Science of Mind and Behavior $82
CPS/RF by EInstruction $22
Registering this... Device $15
Misc. Supplies ~$20
An Anthology of Graphic Fiction $30
Making Comics $22
Best American Comics 2006 $28

Total: $410. Roughly.

WAY TO MAKE ME POOR, SCHOOL.

What makes it worse is that I'm restricted from charging on my ID (so it shows up on my UBill) because I haven't paid my bill for this semester... But it isn't due for another week. So I guess i don't understand WHY I am restricted... But I paid the minimum amount due today, so hopefully, it should start working tomorrow. If not... Shit.

It's really nice to be back into a structured routine, though. Oooh so nice.

"i brought you flours"

Sun, 14 Jan 2007 08:52:24 GMT

the playlist below can also be referred to as "driving at night and crying the whole way home".

everything hurts.

i haven't cried so much... ever. and i don't really understand why. i'm not upset to return to school, i'm just upset to leave home.

it was a badly timed break, i suppose. it gave me enough time to forget i had to leave and to realize why i should stay.

Fri, 12 Jan 2007 09:27:23 GMT

sarah mclachlan, black
gary jules, mad world
rufus wainwright, halleluja
rufus wainwright, the maker makes
rufus wainwright, goodnight sweetheart
the weepies, gotta have you
telepopmusik, breathe
the smiths, asleep
ben folds, the luckiest
aphex twin, jynweythek ylow
aphex twin, avril 14th
emiliana tomni, today has been okay
noel gallagher, teotihuacan
the hush sound, echo
the hush sound, you are the moon
straylight run, existentialism on prom night
casey stratton, somewhere over the rainbow
casey stratton, contagious
imogen heap, hide and seek
imogen heap, halleluja
smashing pumpkins, daydream
bjork, hunter
elliott smith, tomorrow tomorrow
mirah, la familia
fleetwood mac, landslide
death cab, i will follow you into the dark
neko case, a widow's toast
portishead, wandering star
the dandy warhols, sleep
massive attack, teardrop
the postal service, the district sleeps alone tonight
psilonaut, ghosts in the machine
</center>
Rest assured, I am happy. I am so, so happy. I am loved and educated and provided for and cared about and home and rested and restless and balanced. To explain, I give you Kimya Dawson:

When I go for a drive I like to pull off to the side
Of the road, turn out the lights, get out and look up at the sky
And I do this to remind me that I'm really, really tiny
In the grand scheme of things and sometimes this terrifies me

But it's only really scary cause it makes me feel serene
In a way I never thought I'd be because I've never been
So grounded, and so humbled, and so one with everything
I am grounded, I am humbled, I am one with everything

for my own reference?

Thu, 11 Jan 2007 05:44:01 GMT

You know, as of this moment, the only person that could possibly be reading this is Tony. And I'm not even sure he is. Hi Tony!

Children. I love children. I'm not going to lie. But sometimes, I don't know if I want to slap them or hug them. I'm so up in the air about what I want to do in my immediate future, it's hard for me to focus on what I'd really like to do later on. But I took one step in the right direction, I suppose, on Tuesday.

I want to teach. At what level is a mystery to me. I love kids (I said that already), but they lack an intellect and comprehension. Teaching highschool, to me (at this moment), sounds like a blast. I'm running off the fuel of my highschool experiences, but I'm sure not every school is a cakewalk and so friendly-buddy-buddy-first-name-basis as PAPA was. Clearly.

Anyway, on Tuesday, I accompanied my mom to her afternoon class with Kids Cook!. It was a kindergarden/first-grade lesson. It was so much fun, and of course, it was a throwback to Title One. And then I got sad. I miss my boys at Painted Sky. It was fun though, but sometimes I just couldn't take the sass. Apparently, I can't stand girls at any age. They're such shits.

I don't really know where I'm going with this. Um. Elementary school is neat. I don't know.

The Talk and the Shot. Ohohohoho the adventure of telling my mother I'm sexually active. Really, it isn't so bad. She's so understanding, and I tell her everything. I felt bad keeping it from her as long as I did, but it wasn't so big a deal. She understands. Not to say nobody else fucking does, but some people choose to make a huge thing out of it. I'm an intelligent girl, I guess, and at the very least, I have common sense. I'll do(did) it when I fucking want(ed) to, and not before. She knows this, and I know I was better off waiting a bit. She had a better understanding of the situation that way, and she actually... well. It wasn't a mystery to her.

So the it turned into the discussion of birth control, and after doing a bit of research, I'm going to pursue Depo-Provera further. I'm running on recommendations from other people and the basic drug information I find online, but I really need to go talk to Miera. Whatev. In good time, I guess.

Speaking of drugs, I received a prescription for 180 (that's a quantity: 180 pills) Adderol XR today. Jesus Christ. I'm supposed to take two in the morning, except "nonproductive" or "vacation" days, when I just take one or a "booster" (basic 20mg Adderol, instead of 40mg of XR). This is okay with me, since I've spent so much time hopped up on Diet Pills and the like that... well. If I get a prescription to take amphetamines for the sake of leveling me out, I'm all for it. It's reassuring to know it helps. Serious, yesterday was awesome - I was so... BAM. I was energized and focused, but I wasn't off the wall in either direction (manic or despressive). I only took one today, and noticably different.

I feel really good about this. But I feel like I adjust really quickly to "uppers", because of my history with diet pills and caffeine. But we will see.

Steve. He doesn't read this, but he insisted I write him into the blog. So, Steve.

I aquired a free N64 this past weekend, so I've been hunting for games. Now, what is it about stores not carrying cartridges for old systems? It's not like it's that costly to keep a tub of old Super Nintendo or N64 games in the back of the store. But no, nobody has them except Nobel and Gameproz, and you know what that means? They jack their prices up to ridiculous amounts. With most other systems, I can understand this, but N64 was not a well-liked system. It's the red-headed stepchild of Nintendo, a blot on their sparkly past, but still, it's one of my favorites. SO WHY ARE THE GAMES $30? I don't understand. But, for $100, I did manage to get my grubby hands on Legend of Zelda: Majora's Mask, Bomberman Hero, MarioKart 64, Rampage World Tour, Mortal Kombat 4, and Star Wars:Pod Racer. Really, I want more suggestions of good games, because I don't remember any of the ones I used to have (except Perfect Dark, which I kept because it's the only game I've ever beaten. Don't laugh, it's still in my closet somewhere).

I also almost registered for Elements of Art today, but it's an 8:30-10:20am class, which is too early and cuts it too close to my rhetoric class. Oh well. I'll take Intro to Studio Art at CNM this summer.

I feel like such a jackass today because I haven't really done anything. Yesterday was so productive (and I lost two pounds), but today was... nothingness. Ugh. Sitting around eating. I feel fat and sassy.

I'm out of notable thoughts.

oh god i'm awkward

Thu, 04 Jan 2007 06:46:49 GMT

~~And why don't I have an explination for this journal being friends-only? Because being secretive is cool.~~

For whatever reason, I only feel compelled to write when I'm in an emotional slump. You know this because of my lack of capitalization. It's disgusting, I know. But here I am, feeling inexplicably peachy.

Gorilla Tango. Okay. The hub of my social interaction is deceased. I was horrified to hear this. Moreso when I realized that most of my friends don't really care that it's gone because "it changed me." Mmhm. I did start to realize that is was for the better, particularly when Dan clearly explained the reasons behind the closing at dinner. Oh, and dinner? Delicious and unawkward. From previous experience (Adam-based), I know that when a boyfriend invites a girlfriend to a previously planned dinner with a specific group of people, that girlfriend isn't always welcome. But no, it was fine. Kelly gave me a hug and everything, and I don't know if I ever formally met her. It was cute, and everything made a lot more sense afterwards. It isn't pleasant, but probably necessary. I'm at a loss of what to do with myself for the moment.

Chris/Doug Dilemma. In the same conversation you see below, my brother attempted to begin a conversation about Doug. I don't have a problem with this, for I don't see it necessary to hide details of my life from anyone for any reason. If you want to know, just ask. Honestly. But no, it got awkward and it could have formed into a fight. I understand and appreciate his concern, but I am certain it is unnecessary. He is intimidated (with good reason, questionmark) by the fact that Doug is older than he is; I tried to assure him that he really doesn't act it, but Chris took no consolation.

I don't know.

Whatever.

IT'Z! Holy shit, IT'Z is awesome. Brianna and I went today, and it's so fantastically overwhelming. The food was mediocre, which is bad considering they want to be "a restraunt with a game room, not an arcade with food." But the arcade kicked the buffet's ass. They had rows and rows of arcade-style Mario Kart. Oh god. It was like heaven. We won some four-hundred tickets before we retired for the day.

Um, I'm sure I had other thoughts, but I was interrupted and my flow is gone. Not that I ever have a flow to begin with. I just ramble, aimlessly, until I feel like I've done enough emoting.

I guess I am.

EDIT. Oh! I remember what I was going to talk about. Why I didn't previously remember is a mystery to me, because it has been consuming my thoughts all day.

"You've Changed," Jeff, Brianna, and the Problem of Social Graces. To begin, I don't like being told "You've Changed" without valid reason or evidence to reinforce this opinion. I haven't noticed a change. If it's a change in sexual preference, well, okay, got me there. Otherwise, I don't see this change that people are so concerned about. I've never liked the phone. I've never gone out of my way to call people. I've always accepted the first offer of social interaction that came my way. Lately, it's Doug/Steve/GTT-related. If this is upsetting to people that have known me for years, maybe they should rethink who they're dealing with. I don't do phones. I don't do planning. I do spontinaeity, and I work on a first-come, first-serve basis.

I changed my mind. I don't want to talk about this anymore. I'm just getting frustrated and stumbling over my thoughts.

In other news, I just became (at this moment) really self-conscious about my weight. Weird. But not really.

Goodnight.

the truth about top eight

Wed, 03 Jan 2007 19:51:02 GMT

Chris: Girls at my work are all about it, and are too paranoid to ever take anyone off their top 8 for fear that it will hurt others feelings.
No, Kara: That's why I don't have one. I moved people around once, and everyone flipped out. So I just deleted it.
Chris: So now all these work people have each other in their top 8's when they don't ever see each other outside of work, just because they don't want to make a coworker mad.
No, Kara: That's hilarious and sad.

neverend +pictures

Tue, 02 Jan 2007 18:46:11 GMT

adderol. i started adderol right before i left for florida (which explains a part of my extreme mental unrest during the trip), so one would think that i should remember more of the trip, but i don't. i need to experiment with it (on Hall's orders, i swear).

christmas. i don't know what there is to say about christmas. christmas is always formal and friendly, oho floridah hooray! i don't have explination for the way christmas makes me feel: somehow hopeless, pointless, hedonistic, lonely, anticapitalist. i feel guilty for returning all my christmas presents (though, with reason: nothing fit). it was nice to see my family, though really, i wanted to see Chris and Emily more. over the course of the week, i warmed up. it was fun. nothing terribly exciting happened. family time, card games, and unbearable humidity. i love my family. i don't know what else to say about it.

snow. ohmygod. it's so surreal to have so much snow. just amazing. i don't know what to do about it! i was so excited, and then i was overcome with horrible rage and sadness when i was housebound for three days, but i got over it. i shoveled more snow than i've ever even seen at once time. it was like. ohmygod. my dog jumps through snow like a bunny, it's precious.

new years. i have a lot to say about new years, either because i remember it best or it is most recent. i needed to get out, so i left at two for Edie/Gold. he and i took a trip to Smith's, and it was a really awkward, surreal kind of thing. we bought snackfood, orangejuice, sugar, and liquor. we drove back towards Nob Hill, marvelling at the fog and ice, and decided it was time for Frontier - AND IT WAS CLOSED. we were appalled, and ended up at Lindy's. it was delicious, but not Frontier. party preperations. it was supposed to begin at nine, and the first person (Tony) showed up at 9:05, then left again to buy Diet Coke (we are bad people and didn't get any at Smith's - they were out!). then arrived Steve, Kim, Tony (again), Nando, Carolyn, and Carolyn's cousin/roommate/sister/i don't remember. that was it. it was a very cozy, friendly party.

i drank my absinthe. the process was more exciting that the result. i did the sugar/fire trick (the flame was blue and gorgeous), and that other nonsense. i stared at it for a bit, and shared it with everyone else, before i shot the whole thing. it tasted like Nyquil through a licorice straw. gross. and it burned like something otherworldly, which was neat, but otherwise, it wasn't anything to "ohmygod" about. also, apparently, they made up a drinking game in the form of an improv/cheer chant. it goes something like "hey tony/hey tony/show us how you get drunk/show us how you get drunk/1,2,3..." i didn't play right, because i didn't know the chant, so i was given "the floor treatment," which essentially means i sat down on the floor and hid for a little bit. (i was drunktown usa, but not belligerent. i'm a highly fuctional drunk).

these pictures are extremely unflattering, but funny anyway.

around three, we decided it was about time to retire. and then, the power blows. the upstairs had no power, which left us cold and in the dark, but we managed to function. i awoke at seven-thirty-ish, with a tummy boozeburn, so i laid still and quiet for a while until the loudest crash i've heard in quite some time brought us flying out of bed at superhero-esque speed. Steve had passed out in the bathroom, after hitting his head on an unknown object.

he refused to move, so Doug and i retired back to bed, and we were almost asleep when Tony meekly knocked on the open door, refusing to enter until we confirmed we were clothed (we were never naked, at any point, fyi). he left early. everyone got moving around nine, and we (Doug, Kim, Steve, and i) finally ended up at Milton's for some breakfast. i left around two.

it was a good new years, until the horrible guilt set in a night later.

fauxanniversary. it's not my anniversary anymore. uh, but that's okay. i had coffee with Jennifer, and we discussed life lessons and other nonsense. to be completely honest, i had no intention of seeing Brianna that day. i didn't think it would be good. but i thought better of it, and i'm very glad i did.

i ended up at Morrow around five, and we had serious discussions. she gave me the most beautiful gift i've ever received, and i'm forever indebted. we went to Flying Star. i left early, but roads were getting icy again.

the only thing i really have to say is, i feel guilty, but i'm not the guiltiest party around. i'm going to fucking kill. we aren't dating, we aren't in love, but she's my Brianna. i love her, she's my best friend, and i'm going to fucking kill whoever messes with her. i'm a belligerent kind of violent (just because i'm not usually... ever... violent), uncontrollable and spasmatic, but i bet i could inflict some degree of damage.

on a completely different, unrelated note...

being saught after, being loved, being adored and lusted and wanted makes me so uncomfortable. i don't like myself enough to trust these feelings in others.

i'm a life-ruiner. i ruin lives. but i will do anything to fix what i break, and i will forever be indebted to the people i love. (collective) you will always have my protection. i will always love you. i love you.

so this is the new year.

i return to school the fourteenth. i'm not looking forward to it, as of this moment.

the goals before then:
- Bikram's with Paloma
- see lots of people (Shannon, Hunr, Jeff(?), etc)
- ~~improv improv improv~~
- anything else

i write in bursts.
i'm a bad writer.

boo.

i need to shower.

hi hi hi

Sun, 10 Dec 2006 17:51:17 GMT

i can't actually speak spanish [yet] but i like to pretend.