A Journey Back To My Wings

It happens every year, and I'm sure I'm not the only one. I always wake up optimistic on my birthday, knowing full well I'm not going to feel any differently, but for some reason I still always hope for it. It even carries over to the day after as well. Usually, I don't think much about it, but today i was feeling rather sad about it. Almost miserable even. I was especially perturbed about having to run home from the bus stop in a down pour while carrying a lot of things. I got off the bus, took off my shoes, and made a run for it.

I think i made it two strides and a puddle before i started smiling uncontrollably. As I ran through the rain in my plaid shirt and denim shorts I felt the happiest I think I had in years. It was a different kind of happy at least. It was like the rain was washing away all of the dark and sad of the past 8 years or so of my life. Like a shower after caving, i could almost see all the muck rolling off of me. Recently I've started realizing that I've been in a kind of sleep for a while. As if I just tried to numb myself from everything and hibernate until it was all over. Running through the rain brought me back to my summers in Tennessee when I would dance in the rain outside my Grandmother's house. The same way a quick whiff of a familiar scent can stir up so many dormant memories and emotions in a person, this shower was my awakening to my old self and to simple happiness.

I continued to walk home smiling and even laughing some as I thought about those memories. In stead of making me sad like they used to, thinking of those day made me even happier. Which is the different kind of happiness I felt. For the first time, maybe ever, I was optimistic that i could be that girl again. The girl who danced in the rain because it made her feel good. I wasn't sad about those days being gone, but excited to make them happen again. I started thinking of ideas about that and decided to run with them. Literally.

Running isn't something i do very often. In fact, i avoid it at all costs. The culmination of bad knees and scoliosis make running a less than desirable activity. Despite these things, i've always loved running and, pain or not, I was going to run in the rain and it was going to be amazing. Since I smoke more than I run, my endurance isn't really what it should be. Today, I ran about what I could normally handle and about 2 blocks more. I had made a goal and I wasn't quitting until I made it. As I ran and walked i thought about all the things in my life that i didn't like, the places on my path where I'd strayed, and kept making goals. I ran until my muscles were burning and stinging. I ran until I got that rush.

As I made my way back home I kept smiling, despite the stinging in my legs every time I took a step. This is a new chapter in my life. I can't keep living the way I am. I have so much in me that I want to say, and so much to give, I'm not doing anyone any good the way I was. I don't know exactly what happened or why, but I feel like I put pieces of myself away in boxes somewhere. It's time to take them off the shelf and do things differently.

So in the end, after my birthday I do feel different. Part of it was the rain the woke me up and brought me back. And part of it was my choice to be different. Do I have everything in my life figured out now? Of course not. There's still so much i have to figure out, but at least I've got a running start on it. And whenever I'm covered in the grit of the world; I'll just dance in the rain.

Cats and Men. Such similar creatures.

My cat just spent the past half hour curled up on the couch next to me watching Sex and the City. It was really sweet and nice having her curled up in my lap purring and licking my hand. Then, when she was done she bit my hand and took off. Much like most of my past relationships. If you can call them that.
I love my cat, and the species in general. However, when i tell people i love cats i always finish with, " i love them cause they're assholes. Women always talk about how "guys suck" and "men are assholes." Yet, we love them still.
It's called nature when a cat only wants you when they want you. It's something supposedly ingrained in their DNA that lets them only love you when it's convenient to them. So what is men's excuse? If men and women are from the same species why is it they can seem to only care when they want to? All too often do guys seem to be "all in" for the first 30 minutes. Then, when they're done they can just go like it's no big deal.
I'm not trying to sound like some desperate girl with a keyboard and internet access. So please, don't read me that way. It is just beyond my comprehension as to why it's so easy for some people to only love when it's convenient for them.
For that half an hour with my sweet kitten i felt how much she loved me. Then i felt that sharp bite to let me know that our time was over. I was then left alone on the couch to be ignored till tonight when she was looking for a comfy bed to sleep in. She'll love me again, but only when she feels like it.

Despite all the frustration, lonliness, and emotional unavailability of assholes i still love them. Men and cats alike.

Start of Something New

So i guess it's high time i got back into blogging. Hollie has decided to start a music blog focusing on the Indie Rock music scene here in NOLA. Something i would LOVE to be part of. However it's her baby and don't want to try to be part of it without her asking me. It did get me thinking though. I'm not that much of an opinionated person so writing for her blog to critique bands and such would not really be my thing. On the flip-side a more journalistic approach would be.
When talking to her on the phone about it she mentioned a few investigative sides to it which really intrigued me. I'm no music guru by far, but i do know people. And i like talking to people as well. On my walk to buy more cigarettes, which i said i needed to quit, i thought more and more about it and how i could help. I think the thing i would like the most would be talking to the bands and the venues.
I don't really know. It's just another exciting whim i want to run with. At least it got me thinking about myself and my future though. People ask me all the time, "What are you going to school for?" I just say i'm not sure and mention anthropology. The smart ass answer i'd like to give is, "To learn."
The reason i like the movie Accepted so much was because it showed how dumb a college really can be. I just want to learn and i want to choose what it is that i learn without having to deal with all the other non-sense classes that i really don't care about. For instance, i want to take voice lessons, but i don't think i can without being a music major. Most likely i won't be able to take creative writing without an english major or journalism without first declaring journalism as my major.
What if Hollie does ask me to help with the blog and i get to do the more factual aspect of the music scene? What if i realize that interviews and informative articles are my calling?

Blah blah blah. This is why i've avoided blogging for so long. Whenever i read stuff like this i think, "get a journal." Maybe i should just stick with that.

Till i get a new stroke of "genius" that turns out to be a disorganized piece of babbling,
Kat

More Like a LiveJournal Post

So today i bought a Diana+ camera. Though i really shouldn't have due to my current lack of funds. Whatevs man, whatevs.








For those who don't know this is a "crappy" camera made completely out of plastic. Known mostly for it's grainy images, sometimes blurry, and over saturated colors. To the average person just trying to capture a Kodak moment it's not worth much. However, to a more creative mind this camera can take an ordinary anything and with it's natural tweaking, make your subject much more artsy and unique. My two favorite things.


So there's not much more to this post really. Just felt like bragging about my super awesome new purchase. Hopefully i will soon be using my own products of the Diana+ camera to spice up my blogs.






If i ever magically find time to do both. I'm ucky when i have a minute of spare thought for these.


Too bad i never have anything much useful to say...

Where did you go?

Where did you go
Why did you leave
what is there out there that's better than me?

I gave you my love
Showed you my soul
Shed every ter that was inside of me

And you
Said i was special
And you promised to always be near
But how
How can i go on
When i know that you're not here

We talked every night
You'd hold me so tight
We shared everything that we wanted to be

I know you were mine
And you knew i was yours
But still i can't see you when i look around

And you
Said i was special
and you promised to always be near
But how
How can i go on
When i know that you're not here

You're gone, to where i don't know
And i can't seem to think straight
I'm sure i'll see you again
But it's the time in between
that's killing me

And you
Said i was special
And you promised to always be near
But how
How can i go on when i know that you're not here




This is yet another song i wrote for my mother. The first verse came to me as astring of inspiration about a year ago. In church of all places actually. I never paid attention, so by letting my mind wander i got a lot of thoughts like these. It wasn't until a few days ago that i actually did anything with it. Right now it sounds like just another silly pop song. This is only the first draft so changes WILL be made.
I was actually saving this for Sunday. June 29th is the 8 year anniversary of my mother's death and i was going to post this for her then, but instead i'm going to post something for her daily until then. When i write my mini novel of how amazing she was.
And still is.
In my heart and my memories.

Missed The Boat

Lately i've been on such a Modest Mouse kick. I've always loved them, but recently i've found more comfort than usual in the lyrics. For instance, a popular one most people know:
"Looking towards the future
We were begging for the past
Well we knew we had the good things
But those never seemed to last
Oh please just last"

This may as well be my motto right now. The only way i really get thorugh my days anymore is by dreaming of life back in Chattanooga and how much fun i'm going to have. Thinking of seeing all my friends again is how i make it through World Politics, and planning parties and other outings is how i survive math. Then again, the only way i can "plan" the future is by looking to the past and seeing how good i had it.

Yesterday is where it's at. Figuratively speaking of course. I always look to the past and wish that it was once again the present. I miss the good times. And yet, they seem so fleeting. I know that these are "the good 'ole days" as my Grandpa would say, but it's hard to really realize it when i'm so unhappy. Like i said, I notice the good times when they happen, but they "never seem to last."

Please just last...


"We know everything was built to expire so I guess we've done everything"

One of the more hopeless lines they've written, but once again, i relate. Some times i just feel that everything is going to end one day so why bother? Then, being ever the optimist as i am, i quickly remember that the point of life is life itself. And yes, we're all going to die, buildings will crumble, and relationships will fade away, but their existence in the meantime is the point.
I am speaking somewhat specifically of relationships of course. I question my self constantly, why get involved with someone who will only be around for a little while, just untill they run away or move far away. It seems like the imminent heartache isn't worth the fun "meantime." Plus the longer it lasts the worse it will be in the end.

And my newest response to that? Well, this is really going back to my old motto for life, but:
FUCK IT!

"Bad news comes don't you worry even when it lands
Good news will work its way to all them plans."
Does it ever really matter which you choose the hear first? The good news or the bad news. Regardless you're hearing both. You had to have bad to fully appriciate the good. Often times i let myself get hung up on the the little smudges on life's big picture to really appriciate everything else. Not anymore. Life is more of a roller coaster than anything. Ups and downs, but you get to choose which one you ride.
Give me the crazy one that goes all over the place and even through dark tunnels so i have no idea what's next. Oh, and make it a little dangerous please.

There's probably a few lines from every Modest Mouse song i could use and relate to my life. Even "Dance Hall." I really am going to "dance all dance hall" and i'm going to do it "everyday."
Maybe that doesn't make sense, but i get it. That's what matter's right?

And with one last song i bid you all adieu.



"As life gets longer,
awful feels softer.
Well it feels pretty soft to me.
And if it takes shit to make bliss,
then I feel pretty blissfully."

The Riga Girls

They finally got so fed up that they both packed up their most important things, grabbed their guitars, and hopped on a bus to New Mexico. Each state line they crossed was like entering a new layer into their new existence. First they shed their old names and adopted new ones. Next, MaryJane and Lyla erased their real pasts and created a more glamorous and easy history.

Through all of the planning, rest stops, and fast food it never felt real enough for them. They could introduce themselves all they wanted, but it almost felt as though everyone could see through their new identities. They began to feel silly the closer they got to their destination; beleiving that no matter how much they wanted a fresh start they would never really find one.

The bus stopped for the last time for MaryJane and Lyla and pulled away leaving them alone at the bus station in the small town. It was a short walk to their new home, but they took slow steps. Still not sure if they could actually find the peace and escape they craved here or not. Maybe they could out run their past for a little while, but surely not forever. Somehow someone would find out that MaryJane wasn't really from a more than priveleged family and that Lyla wasn't really a mystery in the world. Eventually someone from their past would find them, or at least find some way to affect them. Dragging them back into the lives that was forced upon them.

They spent the days working outside either farming, landscaping, or other odd jobs. Nothing with any real commitment and anything to keep them outside ins the wamr sun and moving. They had thrown away their cell phones after the third state line and their only electronic possesions now were a small amp for MaryJane's bass and an ipod.

At night their front porch was filled with music. After dinner they would spend their evenings in rocking chairs or laying across the wodden porch writing songs about their real lives hoping no one would ever figure them out. Of course there were nights they spent on the town, but every night was jsut one night. They never wanted anyhting forever still afraid they would have to leave sometime soon.

So here they are now living in a behind the times house in a small new mexico town. Enjoying themselves every day living free from the burdens of their past. Every day it gets a little bit easier to let go of the fear, but it has an ever present dwelling in the back of their minds. For now they are free and neither girl has ever been so happy.

"Riga girls like to kiss
Make me wish I was someone else
Oh, Riga girls are you sad?
Oh, I wish I had someone"
- The Weepies