Thursday, September 30, 2004
We stand face to face and it's just like yesterday.
awkward, irrelevant conversation.
pointless smalltalk.
pretense. Or else a game that we've played too much. I know all of your moves. You know all of mine.
we're pros at this.
we're back exactly where we were before. as in go directly to jail. do not pass go. do not collect your dignity, crumpled in a pile on the floor.
the only difference is that this time, there is no third party. no inhuman monster. no vicious catalyst upon whom to shift even the smallest portion of the blame.
there is only you.
only me.
only us.
only this.
we did this to ourselves because, after this much practice, we don't know how to do anything else.
pointless smalltalk.
pretense. Or else a game that we've played too much. I know all of your moves. You know all of mine.
we're pros at this.
we're back exactly where we were before. as in go directly to jail. do not pass go. do not collect your dignity, crumpled in a pile on the floor.
the only difference is that this time, there is no third party. no inhuman monster. no vicious catalyst upon whom to shift even the smallest portion of the blame.
there is only you.
only me.
only us.
only this.
we did this to ourselves because, after this much practice, we don't know how to do anything else.
Fuck. Holy Fuck. I'm super fucking tired.
my bagel tasted funny and my cab driver this morning had some sort of nose cancer. everything smells weird. i can feel myself getting sicker by the second. mike, i blame this on you. may your stomach be pecked out by giant birds. i have two classes today. i have to work. i want to sleep. i want to curl up in a pool of warm water and sleep forever. at least this fucking paper is done. go to hell, t. s. eliot. does anyone ever eat the candy in those little 25 cent machines? i think those chocolate covered peanuts are from the dawn of time. if i had the energy, i'd go on a killing spree right now. (you'd be the first to go, you know who you are, mwa ha ha). man, i look like shit today.
p.s. curtis, i thought of twenty more things i hate right now...check for volume 2 in the near future.
my bagel tasted funny and my cab driver this morning had some sort of nose cancer. everything smells weird. i can feel myself getting sicker by the second. mike, i blame this on you. may your stomach be pecked out by giant birds. i have two classes today. i have to work. i want to sleep. i want to curl up in a pool of warm water and sleep forever. at least this fucking paper is done. go to hell, t. s. eliot. does anyone ever eat the candy in those little 25 cent machines? i think those chocolate covered peanuts are from the dawn of time. if i had the energy, i'd go on a killing spree right now. (you'd be the first to go, you know who you are, mwa ha ha). man, i look like shit today.
p.s. curtis, i thought of twenty more things i hate right now...check for volume 2 in the near future.
Tuesday, September 28, 2004
List anyone?
Here you go, Curtis. The top twenty things that I dislike at this given moment:
20)People who call the Kill Bill movies "campy". That blood spray is visual poetry people.
19)Matchbox 20. Do I need to explain this one? They fucking blow.
18)Whenever I go to a concert or a movie, the one afro-ed person always decides to stand or sit directly in front of me. How many shows have been obscured by bushy, curly hair? I couldn't say.
17)Rock Country. That shit isn't even music. It's what music pukes up after a night of binge drinking and substance abuse.
16)My stupid green apron. Freshmart should not have uniforms. They're fucking lame as hell.
15)Gravy. No joke. I hate that slop. Anything that is made out of cooked dead carcass run-off is not deemed edible for consumption by me.
14)Gelatin. As in jello, gummy bears, gummy worms. I hate anything that fights back when you try to chew it.
13)Western Canadian Accents. Blame Greg for that one. Pretentious fucker. "Elongate your 'A' , Kathryn. It's pronounced 'Caar'."
12)Celebrity Sister Duos. As in the Olsens, the Simpsons, The Hiltons, The Duffs. None of them do anything worthy of recognition and one of them is always the parasite, feeding off the success of the other. It's sickening.
11)Echoes. Those are the stupidest looking cars I have ever seen. I want to smash all of them.
10)Sloan. Pretentious Beatle-wannabe fuckheads.
9)The tattered jogging pants/$300 sunglasses combo. Widely popularized by your average King's student. Make up your minds! You all look ridiculous.
8)Video Games At Parties. Sorry guys. This drives me insane. Why do you think I drink so much? Because booze is delicious? NONSENSE!
7)Cellphones. Of any kind. Particularly when those on them are coming through my cash register. I like to make a point of asking them extra questions really loudly, to which I usually receive a sharp, dirty glare. What's the matter? You don't like when someone ignores what you're obviously doing? Well neither do I.
6)Keanu Reeves. Really I could have an entire hate-post dedicated only to him. Such is my loathing for this talentless hack. He delivers every line with the same inflection of pot-smoking surfer saying "Woah!" or "Dude!" He needs to be stopped.
5)When people from other places call Halifax "quaint". Halifax might be small, but it sure as hell isn't "quaint". Let me give you just a short list of places to explore after dark, and then you tell me whether or not Halifax is quaint, hmmm? You people are naiive and you all deserve an assload of trouble.
4)"Emo". God how I hate this fad. Emo is short for emotional? Well, humans are emotional beings, so right away it seems like a pretty lame basis for a sub-culture. It seems so focused on material things. Is there any kind of belief system to this? Or is it just a way for people to all dress the same and sulk a lot? Fuck.
3)Sketchy fucks who come to my classes that they're not even in and who know where I live, even though there's no way in hell I ever told them where I live....oh wait. That just fucking scares me.
2)Anyone who refuses to recognize the brilliance and timelessness of 'The Warriors'. When I say that the streets will run red with the blood of the unbelievers...I'm not kidding.
1)Mermaids.
20)People who call the Kill Bill movies "campy". That blood spray is visual poetry people.
19)Matchbox 20. Do I need to explain this one? They fucking blow.
18)Whenever I go to a concert or a movie, the one afro-ed person always decides to stand or sit directly in front of me. How many shows have been obscured by bushy, curly hair? I couldn't say.
17)Rock Country. That shit isn't even music. It's what music pukes up after a night of binge drinking and substance abuse.
16)My stupid green apron. Freshmart should not have uniforms. They're fucking lame as hell.
15)Gravy. No joke. I hate that slop. Anything that is made out of cooked dead carcass run-off is not deemed edible for consumption by me.
14)Gelatin. As in jello, gummy bears, gummy worms. I hate anything that fights back when you try to chew it.
13)Western Canadian Accents. Blame Greg for that one. Pretentious fucker. "Elongate your 'A' , Kathryn. It's pronounced 'Caar'."
12)Celebrity Sister Duos. As in the Olsens, the Simpsons, The Hiltons, The Duffs. None of them do anything worthy of recognition and one of them is always the parasite, feeding off the success of the other. It's sickening.
11)Echoes. Those are the stupidest looking cars I have ever seen. I want to smash all of them.
10)Sloan. Pretentious Beatle-wannabe fuckheads.
9)The tattered jogging pants/$300 sunglasses combo. Widely popularized by your average King's student. Make up your minds! You all look ridiculous.
8)Video Games At Parties. Sorry guys. This drives me insane. Why do you think I drink so much? Because booze is delicious? NONSENSE!
7)Cellphones. Of any kind. Particularly when those on them are coming through my cash register. I like to make a point of asking them extra questions really loudly, to which I usually receive a sharp, dirty glare. What's the matter? You don't like when someone ignores what you're obviously doing? Well neither do I.
6)Keanu Reeves. Really I could have an entire hate-post dedicated only to him. Such is my loathing for this talentless hack. He delivers every line with the same inflection of pot-smoking surfer saying "Woah!" or "Dude!" He needs to be stopped.
5)When people from other places call Halifax "quaint". Halifax might be small, but it sure as hell isn't "quaint". Let me give you just a short list of places to explore after dark, and then you tell me whether or not Halifax is quaint, hmmm? You people are naiive and you all deserve an assload of trouble.
4)"Emo". God how I hate this fad. Emo is short for emotional? Well, humans are emotional beings, so right away it seems like a pretty lame basis for a sub-culture. It seems so focused on material things. Is there any kind of belief system to this? Or is it just a way for people to all dress the same and sulk a lot? Fuck.
3)Sketchy fucks who come to my classes that they're not even in and who know where I live, even though there's no way in hell I ever told them where I live....oh wait. That just fucking scares me.
2)Anyone who refuses to recognize the brilliance and timelessness of 'The Warriors'. When I say that the streets will run red with the blood of the unbelievers...I'm not kidding.
1)Mermaids.
What a good idea...
Today, Curtis told me that I should devote a post to all the things that I don't like or that at least irritate me profusely. This, I thought to myself, might be a fun idea. This, i decided quickly afterwards, will take a very long time considering the fact that I hate so many things. In just a few minutes, I managed to list about thirty things that would make the list. It ranged everywhere from "Emo" to Keanu Reeves. I need some more time to think about it. I'll post the list in its completed glory later tonight. I hope my bitterness and overall distaste for post-modern human existence amuses you all.
Monday, September 27, 2004
I couldn't get any work done at school because of you, i'm always wondering if you're alright. i'm glad i'm on somebody's priority list this week. you're always on my list. i know. i know. you're so mature for what you did. no i'm not. yes you are. i'm stupid and weak for what i did. i'm only mature when everything blows up in my face. it takes such good judgement to walk away. i was thrown away, actually. do you want dessert? no. i'm fine. more coffee would be great. are you alright? i'm very sad, but also very angry. angry is good though. how is angry good? anger is a step towards being okay. it means that you stop blaming yourself. you're angry after a week. it took your sister a whole year to get to angry. you should be proud of yourself. should i? yes. i think you should. i'm proud of you.
walking in the sunshine, keeping my feet carefully following an invisible line i have placed on the sidewalk in front of me. it will get me to where i need to be. i'm thinking about my mother. she keeps calling because she knows i'm not okay. she knows about my personal hell because she's seen me here before, over and over and over. she's sweet to worry and i can only avoid her for so long. i don't know what i'll say to her. can i really bring myself to tell her that it happened again? i don't want to because i know she'll offer sympathy that i don't deserve. let's not fool ourselves. this is my own fault. i needed to know. now i know and i wish i could go back into my warm pocket of ignorance. (i really love the word 'pocket'.) but you already know that. you know too much and so do i. perhaps that's where the problem lies. if we just met now, could we co-exist without tearing each other apart? i'll never know. and you'll probably never wonder. that's where we differ.
Sunday, September 26, 2004
Not on my network.
Today was better than yesterday, which was monumentally better than the day before. My system is being purged of you. My recovery time has gotten so much better. I'm patting myself on the back every hour on the hour.
I feel bad for avoiding the coffeehouse. I love those people. They notice when I don't come around and I like that. Alex invited me over to his house for dinner with a bunch of other people tonight. It was pretty last minute. I said I had work to do, which is true. He asked me in a weird way. He looked at me in a weird way. I responded in a weird. way. It made me feel weird.
Bob came into Freshmart today. Like every day that I work. He's everywhere. He's fucked. He said he was coming to my class again. The three hour night class that he's not in...he just likes to sit with me. Me thinks I have a stalker. He said he was going to watch me sleep. I believed him.
I'm eating soup and it's making me feel warm even though I need things to be cold right now.
I wrote a PSST in the coast. I was drunk when I sent it. I wish I could remember what it said. I hope there were no spelling errors.
On a good note: My downward spiral appears to have been a shortlived one. I feel better every day. I'm only a little behind in my work. My impossible paper has finally become possible. I WILL conquer T.S. Eliot. I found my Elle Driver sexy nurse Halloween costume. Mike is awesome. And so am I.
I feel bad for avoiding the coffeehouse. I love those people. They notice when I don't come around and I like that. Alex invited me over to his house for dinner with a bunch of other people tonight. It was pretty last minute. I said I had work to do, which is true. He asked me in a weird way. He looked at me in a weird way. I responded in a weird. way. It made me feel weird.
Bob came into Freshmart today. Like every day that I work. He's everywhere. He's fucked. He said he was coming to my class again. The three hour night class that he's not in...he just likes to sit with me. Me thinks I have a stalker. He said he was going to watch me sleep. I believed him.
I'm eating soup and it's making me feel warm even though I need things to be cold right now.
I wrote a PSST in the coast. I was drunk when I sent it. I wish I could remember what it said. I hope there were no spelling errors.
On a good note: My downward spiral appears to have been a shortlived one. I feel better every day. I'm only a little behind in my work. My impossible paper has finally become possible. I WILL conquer T.S. Eliot. I found my Elle Driver sexy nurse Halloween costume. Mike is awesome. And so am I.
Saturday, September 25, 2004
Another night in the arms of The Russian Prince. He tells me what I want to hear, but I always wake up battered and bruised in the morning. Vodka is the ultimate abusive lover.
I wore the Maiden hat. I passed out on the lawn outside and let it roll off my head.
I cried, but only for a second. (word to the wise: never yell at me when I'm drunk. It's like hitting a button. Instant tears. No good.)
This week, I decided to take my horoscope to heart. It gave me detailed instructions and I followed them exactly. I wrote your name down on a piece of paper. I wrote all your subsequent nicknames underneath it. I crumpled the paper into an old pan. I set it on fire. I watched it burn at my feet. I watched you burn at my feet, while muttering frantically under my breath, "you do not have power over me. you do not have power over me. you do not have power over me anymore."
I cried, but only for a second.
I wore the Maiden hat. I passed out on the lawn outside and let it roll off my head.
I cried, but only for a second. (word to the wise: never yell at me when I'm drunk. It's like hitting a button. Instant tears. No good.)
This week, I decided to take my horoscope to heart. It gave me detailed instructions and I followed them exactly. I wrote your name down on a piece of paper. I wrote all your subsequent nicknames underneath it. I crumpled the paper into an old pan. I set it on fire. I watched it burn at my feet. I watched you burn at my feet, while muttering frantically under my breath, "you do not have power over me. you do not have power over me. you do not have power over me anymore."
I cried, but only for a second.
Thursday, September 23, 2004
Danny: How is your week going? What's, you know, going on?
Kathryn: Um...nothing. I'll go with nothing.
Danny: I can tell that you're unbearably sad, you know. It's disturbing.
I said nothing. Only nodded slowly. I felt slightly ashamed of myself for some reason. He twinkled his eyes at me and started gargling his coffee. I laughed.
Kathryn: You're so strange.
He said nothing. Only nodded slowly. I think he was pleased with himself.
(Boys of Smith Street: I'm probably coming over tonight. I'm probably coming over all weekend. I'm taking refuge in your abode of sketch. I need you. You guys are the best. Ron, can I live behind the curtain with you?)
(Mike: I'm sorry. I really really suck.)
Kathryn: Um...nothing. I'll go with nothing.
Danny: I can tell that you're unbearably sad, you know. It's disturbing.
I said nothing. Only nodded slowly. I felt slightly ashamed of myself for some reason. He twinkled his eyes at me and started gargling his coffee. I laughed.
Kathryn: You're so strange.
He said nothing. Only nodded slowly. I think he was pleased with himself.
(Boys of Smith Street: I'm probably coming over tonight. I'm probably coming over all weekend. I'm taking refuge in your abode of sketch. I need you. You guys are the best. Ron, can I live behind the curtain with you?)
(Mike: I'm sorry. I really really suck.)
Wednesday, September 22, 2004
God is laughing. I can hear him.
I didn't go to my one class today. I know i shouldn't skip it, but I was in no shape to be there. I was still drunk at one-thirty in the afternoon. I was a mess.
But the snotty email from my Prof was truly unnecessary. Yes, I know it is a priviledge to be in the class. I know this. But you don't know me. You don't know what's going on with me and if I told you all the reasons why I skipped your class today, you would have no response beyond a nervous smile while you backed away slowly.
In other superfun-shoot-me-in-the-face news, we now have a quasi uniform to wear at the Mart. Some old hag complanied that we all dress like prostitutes or something, so we have to put these cheap, ugly green aprons over our clothes. Go to hell, you rancid woman. Thank-you for robbing me of that last shred of dignity i've been so desperately clinging to. Now I truly am a walking joke.
Why is it never just one thing? Why is it that when one avenue of my life is upsetting me, all the others feel the need to follow suit? Hey! Let's all kick her together! Fun! Fuck off, school. Fuck off, work. Fuck off, life. I can't deal with you anymore. I just can't. Every second I'm awake, I'm fighting an overwhelming urge to curl up in a ball and scream. Scream until my voice breaks and my lungs give out. I just want everything to stop. To go away. I'm just so tired.
But the snotty email from my Prof was truly unnecessary. Yes, I know it is a priviledge to be in the class. I know this. But you don't know me. You don't know what's going on with me and if I told you all the reasons why I skipped your class today, you would have no response beyond a nervous smile while you backed away slowly.
In other superfun-shoot-me-in-the-face news, we now have a quasi uniform to wear at the Mart. Some old hag complanied that we all dress like prostitutes or something, so we have to put these cheap, ugly green aprons over our clothes. Go to hell, you rancid woman. Thank-you for robbing me of that last shred of dignity i've been so desperately clinging to. Now I truly am a walking joke.
Why is it never just one thing? Why is it that when one avenue of my life is upsetting me, all the others feel the need to follow suit? Hey! Let's all kick her together! Fun! Fuck off, school. Fuck off, work. Fuck off, life. I can't deal with you anymore. I just can't. Every second I'm awake, I'm fighting an overwhelming urge to curl up in a ball and scream. Scream until my voice breaks and my lungs give out. I just want everything to stop. To go away. I'm just so tired.
It's the way i laugh when i'm here. It's the way i fall back comfortably onto the couch and make offensive jokes. It's Graeme being wonderfully smug. It's Josh pacing back and forth, telling stories. It's Ron singing falsetto and drumming on his thighs. It's Tom threatening to school everyone. It's you. You, letting me come here and drink until I can't see. Until I can no longer form words with my mouth. You, letting me cry hysterically into your chest while you smooth my hair with the palm of your hand. You, caring about me at a time when it's the hardest. It's me asking too much and you still giving it to me. It's all the jokes that no one else understands or finds nearly as funny as we do. It's The Warriors. Mariocart. Mercy. The Orphans. The maiden hat. The curtain. The Hellatubbies. The cowboy boot beerstein. Luther. Swann. Cyrus. Chappelle. It's Rick James, bitch. It's everything. It's all of you. It's perfect. It's home. Can you dig it?
Tuesday, September 21, 2004
tonight i will be a living breathing cliche. i'm going out. i don't know where. i don't care where. do they serve liquor? great. there's a concert at the marquee i was planning on seeing, but lord knows if i'll make it there or not. i'm going to sit at the bar all night. i'm going to chase tequila with whiskey with vodka with jagermeister. i'm going to watch the lights dance in the puddles left by spilled drinks on the bar. it will be beautiful. it will perfect. i'm going to complain about my life to the bartender. i'm going to put the past two months in a big pot and drown them with booze. i'm going to drink until i forget your name. if i'm lucky, i'll forget my own.
(and don't you love that i feel the need to drink because i'm devastated? doesn't it make me look pathetic? doesn't it make me look sad? well, i am pathetic. i am sad.)
(and don't you love that i feel the need to drink because i'm devastated? doesn't it make me look pathetic? doesn't it make me look sad? well, i am pathetic. i am sad.)
shoot me in the face and tell me you love me. stab me in the heart and say that everything will be fine.
well.
EVERYTHING IS NOT FUCKING FINE!
look at me! look at me! I'm screaming in the street. I'm writhing on the floor in agony. I'm tearing off my own skin, because I don't want to be in it anymore.
I am not okay. I am not okay. I am not okay.
well.
EVERYTHING IS NOT FUCKING FINE!
look at me! look at me! I'm screaming in the street. I'm writhing on the floor in agony. I'm tearing off my own skin, because I don't want to be in it anymore.
I am not okay. I am not okay. I am not okay.
Monday, September 20, 2004
"i feel like i wouldn't like me if i met me."
I got up early and got my list of errands done before my first and only class today. I need one part of my life to feel productive. Completed. Otherwise, I'm just walking backwards.
I ordered a copy of "Lipstick Traces" from Harvard University Press. It will be expensive but worth it.
I use expressions like "whatevs" and "fer sure" both because they make me laugh and because I can't stop.
I bought the new Tegan and Sarah cd today. It's bouncing in my toes and swimming in my blood. It's crystallizing everything.
"there's a war inside of me. do i cause new heartbreak to write a new broken song?"
"i know you plan out everything that you want to say. i wish we didn't have to go about things this way. i love the rock and roll. i love the rock and roll. don't get so uptight."
"last night i was writing about you. i know my screaming and shouting won't keep you."
"look me in the eye and tell me you don't find me attractive. look me in the heart and tell me you won't go. "
"you only want love more, even when love isn't what you're looking for."
"I want the ocean right now. I want the ocean right now."
Tomorrow night I'm going to a great concert for a small price. Do you want to come with me?
I ordered a copy of "Lipstick Traces" from Harvard University Press. It will be expensive but worth it.
I use expressions like "whatevs" and "fer sure" both because they make me laugh and because I can't stop.
I bought the new Tegan and Sarah cd today. It's bouncing in my toes and swimming in my blood. It's crystallizing everything.
"there's a war inside of me. do i cause new heartbreak to write a new broken song?"
"i know you plan out everything that you want to say. i wish we didn't have to go about things this way. i love the rock and roll. i love the rock and roll. don't get so uptight."
"last night i was writing about you. i know my screaming and shouting won't keep you."
"look me in the eye and tell me you don't find me attractive. look me in the heart and tell me you won't go. "
"you only want love more, even when love isn't what you're looking for."
"I want the ocean right now. I want the ocean right now."
Tomorrow night I'm going to a great concert for a small price. Do you want to come with me?
my fingers are cold, but my memories are warm. *sigh*
I will get my work done.
I will not overthink everything today.
I will not drink so much coffee.
I will not think about cigarettes.
I will not need to be validated.
I will not forget to eat.
I will not ponder the "what ifs"
I will not chew my nails and stare out the window
I will not feel frustrated or scared.
I will buy a new cd.
I will listen to punk covers.
I will smile and I will mean it.
I will get my work done.
I will not overthink everything today.
I will not drink so much coffee.
I will not think about cigarettes.
I will not need to be validated.
I will not forget to eat.
I will not ponder the "what ifs"
I will not chew my nails and stare out the window
I will not feel frustrated or scared.
I will buy a new cd.
I will listen to punk covers.
I will smile and I will mean it.
Sunday, September 19, 2004
dreams are funny aren't they?
Last I had two dreams. You were in one of them and it was strange, in the same way that we're strange. yeah. i guess "fucked up" really doesn't begin to describe it.
But the other dream was truly a masterpiece of my subconcious. I dreamt that I was in a grocery store, full of people, who one by one, were all turning into werewolf/zombie type creatures. It was up to me and my cohorts to stop them. Strangely enough...Curtis was not one of them....but Melissa was.
For some reason, the only way to kill these monsters (*ahem* which I of course discovered *ahem*) was to take a bottle of either shampoo or dish detergent from a shelf and squirt it directly into their eyes. And I mean a lot of this stuff had to get in there. Disgusting, but fun.
So I'm charging down aisles with a bottle of sunlight in one hand and herbal essences in the other, shooting point-blank into the eyes of anyone I suspect to be of the zombie/werewolf persuasion.
But here's where it gets tricky. For some reason, I couldn't allow any of the non-monster customers know what was going on. I had to kill all of these creatures under their noses, while they quietly went about their shopping. At one point I was trying to pour shampoo into the eyes of a now psychotic zombie baby (baby! I kid you not!) and I heard a shopping cart coming around the corner. I grabbed the demon-child by the throat and we dove together into a display of chips, where I continued to force solvants into its eyes. Sick shit.
When it was all over and the world (or at least the grocery store) was safe again, a strange little man approached me and offered me a job. He passed me a card. This is what it said:
Kathryn Crooks
official undercover spy for paranormal activity and removal of paranormal beasts.
Yup. That's it. I think I need to stop drinking, yes?
Or better yet, if this dream is symbolic for something going on in my life....what the fuck does it mean? any suggestions?
But the other dream was truly a masterpiece of my subconcious. I dreamt that I was in a grocery store, full of people, who one by one, were all turning into werewolf/zombie type creatures. It was up to me and my cohorts to stop them. Strangely enough...Curtis was not one of them....but Melissa was.
For some reason, the only way to kill these monsters (*ahem* which I of course discovered *ahem*) was to take a bottle of either shampoo or dish detergent from a shelf and squirt it directly into their eyes. And I mean a lot of this stuff had to get in there. Disgusting, but fun.
So I'm charging down aisles with a bottle of sunlight in one hand and herbal essences in the other, shooting point-blank into the eyes of anyone I suspect to be of the zombie/werewolf persuasion.
But here's where it gets tricky. For some reason, I couldn't allow any of the non-monster customers know what was going on. I had to kill all of these creatures under their noses, while they quietly went about their shopping. At one point I was trying to pour shampoo into the eyes of a now psychotic zombie baby (baby! I kid you not!) and I heard a shopping cart coming around the corner. I grabbed the demon-child by the throat and we dove together into a display of chips, where I continued to force solvants into its eyes. Sick shit.
When it was all over and the world (or at least the grocery store) was safe again, a strange little man approached me and offered me a job. He passed me a card. This is what it said:
Kathryn Crooks
official undercover spy for paranormal activity and removal of paranormal beasts.
Yup. That's it. I think I need to stop drinking, yes?
Or better yet, if this dream is symbolic for something going on in my life....what the fuck does it mean? any suggestions?
Saturday, September 18, 2004
I HEART Punk
not that i pretend to know THAT much about it.
i know enough. I did write the manifesto.
I borrowed Mike's Ramones anthology again *drools* Long live the memories of Johnny, Joey and DeeDee Ramone who have all left this world a better and no doubt sketchier place.
I'm also starting a Punk library. Right now I have "Warboy" and "I, Shithead". I'm looking for a copy of "Lipstick Traces" and I'll soon be studying "London Calling" in class. That's four books. Small but mighty.
I'm a geek.
Why are you guys even friends with me?
i know enough. I did write the manifesto.
I borrowed Mike's Ramones anthology again *drools* Long live the memories of Johnny, Joey and DeeDee Ramone who have all left this world a better and no doubt sketchier place.
I'm also starting a Punk library. Right now I have "Warboy" and "I, Shithead". I'm looking for a copy of "Lipstick Traces" and I'll soon be studying "London Calling" in class. That's four books. Small but mighty.
I'm a geek.
Why are you guys even friends with me?
Friday, September 17, 2004
I probably deserve this...
QUESTION: What happens after a night of lemon vodka and Goldschlager?
ANSWER: Candy-coated heart burn! Fun!
ANSWER: Candy-coated heart burn! Fun!
Oh the things I never intend to happen...
...i went for a "short visit".
who got me so drunk? thank you? sure.
melissa i love you. We had a good snuggle on Josh's bed.
I'M RICK JAMES BITCH! Now show Charlie Murphy your titties.
Fuck, I love Dave Chappelle. Yes, Mike. I really just wrote that. What did the five fingers say to the face? SLAP! bwa ha ha ha ha! Oh Jon....you're the one that got me started...before long I was screaming it over the bannister at strangers. I'm awesome.
pink eye? drug abuse? hysterical.
on another note, typing is tricky since I left my vision behind last night. fuck.
who got me so drunk? thank you? sure.
melissa i love you. We had a good snuggle on Josh's bed.
I'M RICK JAMES BITCH! Now show Charlie Murphy your titties.
Fuck, I love Dave Chappelle. Yes, Mike. I really just wrote that. What did the five fingers say to the face? SLAP! bwa ha ha ha ha! Oh Jon....you're the one that got me started...before long I was screaming it over the bannister at strangers. I'm awesome.
pink eye? drug abuse? hysterical.
on another note, typing is tricky since I left my vision behind last night. fuck.
Thursday, September 16, 2004
Dear, The Coast
Let me begin by expressing my utmost gratitude towards your printing of my little rant in your weekly paper. Truly, you are wizards of publishing! Stunning! Fabulous!
In case the obscurity of written word has allowed my raging sarcasm to slip by you, please allow me to be perfectly clear. (although clarity in point is not exactly something you like to offer is it?)
When I sent in a rant to be printed in "Love The Way We Bitch", I did not expect, nor did I wish for it to be printed anywhere else in your newspaper.
When I signed the afore-mentioned rant "anonymous", that meant that I did not wish for my actual name to be attached to said rant, even if you could easily get my name from my email account. But don't you worry, I know how simple language can be confusing.
Lastly, if my rant was too long, you should not have printed it. By choosing to cut out sections at will, you destroyed my point and my intention. By deleting key sections such as "I'm not against the charity, I'm just against the harrassment" and the actual story of how I was so obnoxiously harrassed, you made me out to be a psychotic bitch for little to no reason.
In conclusion: fuck you The Coast. The next time I write in it will be to bitch about your lack of respect to your readers and your less than stellar methods of publishing. Please go eat a bowl of dicks.
love,
Kathryn
In case the obscurity of written word has allowed my raging sarcasm to slip by you, please allow me to be perfectly clear. (although clarity in point is not exactly something you like to offer is it?)
When I sent in a rant to be printed in "Love The Way We Bitch", I did not expect, nor did I wish for it to be printed anywhere else in your newspaper.
When I signed the afore-mentioned rant "anonymous", that meant that I did not wish for my actual name to be attached to said rant, even if you could easily get my name from my email account. But don't you worry, I know how simple language can be confusing.
Lastly, if my rant was too long, you should not have printed it. By choosing to cut out sections at will, you destroyed my point and my intention. By deleting key sections such as "I'm not against the charity, I'm just against the harrassment" and the actual story of how I was so obnoxiously harrassed, you made me out to be a psychotic bitch for little to no reason.
In conclusion: fuck you The Coast. The next time I write in it will be to bitch about your lack of respect to your readers and your less than stellar methods of publishing. Please go eat a bowl of dicks.
love,
Kathryn
New Blog
p.s. folks, Mr. Gillis has a new and much improved Blog for your enjoyment. You will find it in my links. (Sneakin' Out)
...and by "much improved" I mean sketchier, funnier and definately much more offensive in general. I love it.
...and by "much improved" I mean sketchier, funnier and definately much more offensive in general. I love it.
I'm back at the F****Mart for another year and all seems right in the universe/version of reality that exists in my head.
(actually, everything is kind of fucked and I go around each day pretending not to be thinking about it and sometimes I do a good job and sometimes I don't. I think about it when I eat and when I'm in class and when I'm talking to people and when I really should be thinking about other things. I don't think anyone has noticed.)
Classes are going well. I think it's going to be a good year.
(but really, I'm terrified because I can't seem to get past the feeling that I'm rapidly running out of time. Time to do what? Decide? For the first time in my life I will be judged on my writing and I won't be able to fake it anymore and maybe all the old sheets and blankets that make up this little fort I live in are finally going to fall down. Maybe I will be exposed.)
*convincing smile*
(and don't think for one second that I'm not on to you. I know you're not stupid, but neither am I. You've pulled this stunt before and it's tired.)
(actually, everything is kind of fucked and I go around each day pretending not to be thinking about it and sometimes I do a good job and sometimes I don't. I think about it when I eat and when I'm in class and when I'm talking to people and when I really should be thinking about other things. I don't think anyone has noticed.)
Classes are going well. I think it's going to be a good year.
(but really, I'm terrified because I can't seem to get past the feeling that I'm rapidly running out of time. Time to do what? Decide? For the first time in my life I will be judged on my writing and I won't be able to fake it anymore and maybe all the old sheets and blankets that make up this little fort I live in are finally going to fall down. Maybe I will be exposed.)
*convincing smile*
(and don't think for one second that I'm not on to you. I know you're not stupid, but neither am I. You've pulled this stunt before and it's tired.)
Tuesday, September 14, 2004
fuck.
what the fuck?
fuck.
I'm so very scared of everything.
what the fuck?
fuck.
I'm so very scared of everything.
Friday, September 10, 2004
Ian and I went shopping last night and the bitch in me that Sam unleashed was still in full swing. Oh well. We had a good time looking at skanky panties, eating mall sushi, playing fashion police under our breath.
I ran into my cousin Heather in the mall while we were there. She's seventeen now. It's insane. I've noticed a small change between us lately. It used to be that I was older, and therefore cool. Now it seems that I am older, and therefore very uncool. I stopped to talk to the girl for a few minutes and I got the distinct feeling that I was cramping her style. I left her with her friends soon afterwards, highly disturbed at that. Am I old enough to be seen as uncool already? Fuck!
I had a twinge for the Greek House last night. I saw one of my favorite regular customers. I'll miss chatting with him and pouring his red wine. But then, just as I was feeling nostalgic, I happened to see one of my least favorite customers. What a prick. In the end, I felt resolved in my decision to quit....not that I quit in a way that could be reversed.....teeheehee
alright fuckers, I'm out.
I driving the Cabot Trail with my partner in sketch.
I ran into my cousin Heather in the mall while we were there. She's seventeen now. It's insane. I've noticed a small change between us lately. It used to be that I was older, and therefore cool. Now it seems that I am older, and therefore very uncool. I stopped to talk to the girl for a few minutes and I got the distinct feeling that I was cramping her style. I left her with her friends soon afterwards, highly disturbed at that. Am I old enough to be seen as uncool already? Fuck!
I had a twinge for the Greek House last night. I saw one of my favorite regular customers. I'll miss chatting with him and pouring his red wine. But then, just as I was feeling nostalgic, I happened to see one of my least favorite customers. What a prick. In the end, I felt resolved in my decision to quit....not that I quit in a way that could be reversed.....teeheehee
alright fuckers, I'm out.
I driving the Cabot Trail with my partner in sketch.
Wednesday, September 08, 2004
Last night.....
I might have quit my job.
I might have screamed in the face of a tyrannical 45-year-old Greek man.
I might have called him a "vile, cruel, disrespectful and heartless human being".
I might have told him to shove his restaurant up his ass.
I might have crossed my name off the schedule.
I might have dumped my tip cup into my purse and told him to go fuck himself.
I might be unemployed.
I might not be getting a very good reference.
I might be smiling right now.
I might have screamed in the face of a tyrannical 45-year-old Greek man.
I might have called him a "vile, cruel, disrespectful and heartless human being".
I might have told him to shove his restaurant up his ass.
I might have crossed my name off the schedule.
I might have dumped my tip cup into my purse and told him to go fuck himself.
I might be unemployed.
I might not be getting a very good reference.
I might be smiling right now.
Tuesday, September 07, 2004
Shine This.
It's that time of year again. That time when the Frosh are out in swarms, like a plague of locusts over the city. They dress in stupid costumes and chant stupid school chants. They walk in groups up to forty and fifty strong. They all have nicknames like "Crazy Frosh" and "Curious Frosh" and "Might slit your throat in the night Frosh". And then, just when you've really had enough of them, they've only just begun. That's right boys and girls, it's Shine-o-rama time again and you are no longer a person, but a big walking target. Now, they break into smaller groups in order to cover more ground, new soldiers gathering on every main street corner in the city. They surround cars and pedestrains like buzzards on a fresh corpse. They want your "school spirit"? No. Nonono. They want your money. And don't think for one minute that if you wear one of those fucking stickers that they'll actually leave you alone, because even before the charity, there is competition. The group that comes up with the most money wins a prize you see, so they can and will hit you up again and again. In just one hour this morning, I was approached more than a dozen times. One puppy-eyed girl even tried to make me feel guilty for the coffee I was holding. Yes dear, I do have enough money to spare on a cup of coffee, but if I had just a few more extra dollars, I would use it to hire a hobo and have you killed before I'd give it to you. Yes, they'll shake every cent out of your pockets if you'll let them, all in an attempt to claim the keg of beer at the end of the day, a week of bragging rights, and maybe, just maybe an opportunity for "Sleazy Frosh" to fuck "Easy Frosh" once she's had a few drinks. Ain't university life grand?
So this is a message to the rest of you Frosh Fucks that managed to miss my toxic glare this morning: If even one more of you tie-dye-wearing, perky bastards comes near me, I will use my fingers as hooks and pull your first-year brains out through your nostrils. Fuck off. Seriously.
So this is a message to the rest of you Frosh Fucks that managed to miss my toxic glare this morning: If even one more of you tie-dye-wearing, perky bastards comes near me, I will use my fingers as hooks and pull your first-year brains out through your nostrils. Fuck off. Seriously.
I know I'm around here somewhere, I'm just having trouble finding myself. Everytime I look down, my feet have vanished, moved away from me and left me behind. I'm floating here ambiguously, waving my arms frantically, hoping that you will notice.
Wednesday, September 01, 2004
Monday. Another day of feet tapping and fingers drumming anxiously. Another day of chain smoking and talking in tango, dancing around and around the point, at least from my end of the conversation. Monday night. Another night without sleep. Staring endlessly at the ceiling while the white tiles inhale and exhale in my own sleepless delirium. Tuesday. Another day of puffy eyes and pupils like saucers. Watching the clock turn minutes into hours. Another day of serving plate after plate of micellaneous slop, customers asking, "Out late last night?" "No. Not exactly."
