Boring layout that will never be finished by:
Monself

Citaat:
"Course eventually I left, with my friends, we rode the taxi back, some guy tried to fight Jon and I passed out watching Lady Snowblood and awoke to Terrible Feelings. I got on a train, then another train, then a bus, then eventually got out and walked back to my room as the sleet continued to fall. Straight down like pinstripes and I walking through it: Indifferent, but real." -Riaz

It's not that I don't love you. It's just that, well...it hurts rather a lot to feel utterly forgettable. Especially when I take into account the fact that you're a repeat offender.

And seriously, all the extra estrogen I have in my system now from the birth control is not doing anything to help the situation at all.

Now I get to take my makeup off, since I won't be needing it.

Such a thrilling Saturday night.

-K

Petrea and I went shopping today, and I bought two pairs of jeans from Express, because they were having a sale. The two pairs I purchased cost less together than the single pair I wore into the store.

Remind me never to shop at that store unless there's a sale.

My eyes feel dry and scratchy. If only Ben Stein would pop up out of nowhere with his bland, bored voice to help me.

Amsterdam (Guster) reminds me of Kim and Tyson. One of these days, I'll have to play it for her.

J-D hit level fifty in WoW a couple of hours ago. It was cool for him, but sad for me, because the way things are going, I will never play again, and none of my characters even reached thirty.

So, how does one go about purchasing a webpage? I'm thinking facekiller.com, or .net, or whatever it is you kids are into these days. Or mayhaps fatetoface.appropriate-web-suffix.

I spilled mouthwash on myself and the bathroom sink and floor tonight, while scrubbing the retainer for my lower mandible. So, these three things (as well as my teeth) are now minty fresh.

Which means I am going to go change into my pajamas.

-K

I owe my mom (100+)monies. I owe the library (3+)monies. It makes me uncomfortable, owing all these monies.

I want the vespa from FLCL so hard that it is like being under a T-rex holding a fallen Communist spy sattelite standing on a schoolbus driving on the back of a herd of elephants shoved inside a tank.

= Heavy.

Every time they show it during the ending credits, my heart cries.

The lesson of the story is that we must all love America and fear the Red Menace.

Massage today! The new massage therapist is very nice. The lotion she used had a really mild gardenia scent, and shea (shae?) butter. It reminded me of the sun-screen that mom used to get for beach trips when I was a kid, especially when I did all of that walking out in the 1,000,000,000 degree/%humidity weather we are having and sweated a lot of it off.

Dear J-D,

WTF why do you "not like" to use the functional A/C in your truck?

Stupid smokers.

When I took my passport application and other accoutrements to the post office today, they tried three times to make my debit card work. There was a great deal of failure on the cashier's end, and a sizable amount of confusion/panic on mine as I felt my cash-induced independance drain away.

I called the bank when I got home (they would hold my information, etc. for me until four-thirty when they stop accepting applications), and then mom took me back to the post office (I went with J-D before) and paid for everything. Also, we went to Wal*Mart, where shopping is a pleasure (so long as you like having your soul sucked out), and where a woman from the bank called me back and explained that U.S. Postal Offices do not accept debit cards that take money out of savings accounts, which is what I have. Apparently, they get a lot of calls like mine, which, to me, says that the U.S.P.O. needs to stop hatin' on savings accounts.

In any case, it'll be here in a month or so.

I now legally own a copy of Demon Days. It's the first album I've purchased since before Aych left. I AM MAKING PROGRESS.

Luna and Rob need to let me know what foods they want, so I know what recipes to bring.

Bought a shirt from threadless.com! It is grammatical in nature! It has, "they're", "their", and "there" on it, which makes me happy. Threadless gave me a giftcard code to use for five dollars off, so I decided it was about time I got something. I also requested reprints of two shirts I like a great deal, and am hoping I got the sizes right.

Many people complimented me on Luna's shirt when I wore it the other day. I packed it by accident when I stayed with them in May, because all our clothes were in a jumble, and I'd brought a shirt of a similar color.

Careful shopping with Petrea on Thursday? Yes, please!

-K

Due to the bulk of the content of this entry, I dedicate it to my beloved Hchano, whom I shall always associate with matters of the heart butt.

While helping Petrea pack her things into the truck to leave, I got a charlie horse in my butt. Do you have ANY IDEA how incredibly much that sucks?

Holy crap.

I'd already been through some muscular stress not an hour before: every few weeks, as part of Derek's study, I am tested on a few of the machines, to see the absolute maximum amount of weight that I can lift with them. On one of the machines that works your leg muscles (thigh) I got up to 200 pounds.

It was my love for Petrea that had me toting and lifting boxes around after that work out, which I am still sore from.

In any case, I made my limping way down the hallway to announce what had happened, and found out that it really is possible to hurt so much that a thin mist of sweat will break out on your forehead. Especially when it is a literal pain in your butt.

So I hobbled back down the hallway to what was once Petrea's room and flopped onto the bed, and Petrea got a rolling pin. You know, the thing you use to roll out various types of dough (and butts). The marble kind with the wooden handles.

Petrea discovered that the backs of my thighs are ticklish.

We both discovered that rolling pins are good for more than making bread.

I think, on the whole, it brought us closer.

I also laugh about it on a pretty regular basis.

SPEAKING OF PETREA.

We went to buy books today. I got all of mine taken care of, but then we talked to Anne, who suggested we try Bill's, and I found a used copy of my Math book, so I can take the new one back to TCC and get my one-hundred-and-two point seventy-five back, and thanks very much.

I'm also not entirely sure that I needed that Art book, as it seems to be about western art, and I am taking a painting class. Flipping through it casually, the book appears to mostly be about statues and such, which has little to do with oils. So who knows? I might get another fifty-something back.

We were able to find one of the books 'Trea needs, but the other one was out. I guess a lot of people are into nursing?

I am exhausted and my dosages of ibuprofen have done nothing for my complaining muscles. Also, my eyes are going all unfocused-like and my head hurts, which means it is time to go pass out for a while.

-K

So all of my dress shoes?

Ham chews on them.

Yeah.

All of them.

The whore.

Ugh.

Anyone want to come buy text books with me? La Kimberlita is going to take me to get the painting supplies I'll need, which I kind of am and kind of am not looking forward to, as painting supplies (especially oils) are not cheap.

Not like text books are cheap, either, though.

Speaking of Ham, she's sleeping on my bed with her face pressed against it, like she's going to suffocate. I'll poke her in a minute to make sure she isn't dead.

I can feel it at the base of my spine, you know? It isn't just a season for me, it's always been a sensation. No matter that it's only the middle of August. Sitting here under my newly-cleaned A/C duct and thinking hard about the cold gets to me, and it's your house that I think of first.

I wish sometimes that you would all come back.

Also, I just want you all to know: I love the name Lola.

Wyatt. Stop waking up all the time. It's obnoxious, and you're going through a growth-spurt, so you need to freakin sleep already. Because I know that as soon as you wake up, you are going to be pissed off and screaming unless I am holding you, pacing around the house, with my shoulder feeling like it's going to break because you weigh a ton. I know as soon as I sit down you are going to freak out and scream indignantly.

Which is just fantastic.

I think I'll order a pizza for lunch.

-K

WELL, SPEAK OF THE DEVIL. Debbie and Dustin invited me to go with them to Biloxi.

If Luna and Rob can fit me into their schedules, I will accept.

I tried to make Aych a fanart. But. I tried to do it in pen.

Perhaps restarting on Photoshop will do the trick.

There is a mango waiting for me by the sink with a paring knife.

Mmmmmm.

-K

EDIT: 1:14PM

I am not sure what levels of depression and amusement should be allowed to follow the realization that the only boy to ever look at me with a bright glint in his eyes and say, "Let's go to your bedroom," is my three-year-old nephew.

My sweet, goof-off nephew, who always has a bright glint in his eyes, what with all the pure childish wonder and curiosity coursing through his veins at a constant rate. And, technically, he sang it to me, "Let's goo! Let's gooo! Let's gooooo to your bedrooommmmm!" which gives the illusion that my life is secretly a musical.

There is a fairly strong sense though, that the levels of amusement are far higher, which is nice to know. The more I think about it, the funnier it gets, but then, I've been up for quite a while.

M/W/F
ENC1101 (EN/121) 10:10 - 11:55 AM
BOT1000 (SM/116) 12:20 - 1:10 PM

T/T
MAT0002 (CH/235) 10:00 - 11:15 AM
ART2500C (CH/259) 11:35 - 2:25 PM

Yerss.

-K

Oh, that T-Rex!

Orientation today.

Got sick and left early without seeing an advisor, but I've already got most of my classes scheduled, so I didn't have to stay anyhow.

It's okay though, because I'm not going to bother with the self-paced math class, since there's a (gasp!) handy math building that everyone is welcome to go to for help. Besides, I don't have the self-discipline or -motivation with things I intensely dislike, and don't trust myself enough to get the work done.

Petrea is recovering well from her various opérations de plastique, which is a relief. There wasn't any worry to begin with, and it went well, but one does tend towards concern for loved ones.

Also, I am really excited about going shopping with her for unmentionables. Coasting along with Kristen while she shopped for them slowly lit my femininity fuse, and I've recently acquired (possibly with my debit card, you think?) a stereotypical relish for the sport of Purchasing. I've been careful with my money so far, though, which gives me a nice rush of power: I have the resources, but I also have the ability not to use them indiscriminately.

Generosity might be my downfall, though. Often I have the urge to take my friends out and tell them it's alright if they're strapped, I've got it covered.

I miss playing WoW like what. Which is sad.

-K

POST SCRIPT, 5:33AM:

The video for Only (Nine Inch Nails) is weird. I was wondering when it first came on if they'd made a "clean" version (aka sans f-bomb) like Radiohead did with Creep. Not so for NIN. They just silence the vocals on those parts.

Speaking of Radiohead, they've had some videos as well, which makes me very happy, even though the one for Knives Out was odd. Not that Pyramid Song wasn't either...but Knives Out was just. Weird.

And the Ben Folds video for Landed? Well! It's Ben Folds. I shouldn't even have to tell you my opinion.

Much as I love music, I need to stop being up late. When crappy videos come on, there's nothing good to change to.

That's totally the only reason.

Too bad it's not bubblegum.

While looking on my desk for paper to spit my gum out on I found one that has this written on it:

Dave Eggers
a Heartbreaking Work of staggering Genius
your disgusting head-Dr & Mr. Haggis -On -whey
Giraffes? Giraffes!

It is not in my handwriting.

I think this is one of the times when even people who hate lol-speak would go, "...Wtf."

-K

Best thing I said all night.

I agree with your dream assessments, my good ladies!

On the way to Debbie and Dustin's, we stopped at Wal-Mart. I bought H some fish stickers, some paintbrushes for myself, and blackberries for cheesecakes I made for the party that got left in the fridge because we had too much food out already. I should have brought them and the blackberries home, because now we're short by two more pie pans, and Debbie already has a third. So I hope they are getting a lot of use out of our three best pie pans, and that they have every intention of bringing them back the next time they come into town.

Their house is cold, but that's because Dustin gets too hot, so they keep the A/C set to sixty-eight degrees Fahrenheit.

I had a big list of other things. I deleted it, obviously.

It's the second time tonight that I've deleted all my negative comments.

-K

I'm not talking about it, though. Maybe to Kim, since she'd understand it better.

Not like I really knew you anyway.

...Not like that ever seems to matter.

My neck hurts, and I feel a bit like some one is stabbing me in the cerebellum. Or squeezing my medulla, which sounds really gross, but that's just how it is.

I was going to go shirk my responsibilities and go to Jacksonville tomorrow, but after talking with Debbie, I'm not.

See, she's been planning this "Girl's Night!" grammargrammarGRAMMARitshouldbe"Girls'"omfgwhydoIevencare? of hers for a while now, and she's so happy to be having it, and she says she'll just cry if I don't come. She'll cry.

She sort of implied that she had something important to say. I'm not sure if that was her intention, but that was how it seemed to me.

I am filled with apprehension, and the desire to escape to J-Ville. I am so tired of Tallahassee right now, and I have to stop feeling that way before the semester starts at the end of the month.

I'm making an exception in October for Lina and Tiff's wedding, but I'm going to try hard to miss as little school as possible.

Anyhow, if the intrepid Biloxi explorers would like to stop by my place on the way home for pizza, I would be glad to make it for them. And lemonade, of course. ;O

Mom is getting some kind of sinus thing, and it has made her voice low and hoarse.

Soundtrack for tonight: V.A. - Kick it in the Sun [mix masta Joel]

-K

New covers for Evan and Kim.

It is cold in here, like in her heart.

-K

No, I didn't almost write "dessert".

I made pizza from scratch today. It helped me to understand something that I had not previously understood: women in the fifties, coming out of the kitchen in an apron and heels.

If those women were short like me, you can't freakin' reach high enough over the counter to knead any kind of dough that needs kneading (heh) unless you stand on your toes, and you can't stand on your toes for too long before your legs get tired. HanceHence: heeled shoes.

I kneaded the dough in my sexy cork wedge heels. Also, in shorts. And my "...and on the eighth day, God created Oregon!" shirt. And, of course, an apron.

Then L'Orange made fun of me for being short.

But let me tell you something: I have great calves.

Also, I make great pizza.

...also, I should have cleaned the bathrooms, but I didn't, and now I have to do it on a Sunday, which I hate to do.

Enter: The Stabbing Back Pains That Will Prevent Sleep.

-K

Yes, Megan, some people are actually able to express the religious aspects of themselves through music without stepping on toes.

Yes, Sufjan Stevens' album Seven Swans had a few songs that were decidedly biblical. But I got more of a feeling of a story being told than a Sunday school session put to blue-grassy melodies.

If you're so open minded, sweet sister, you might want to get your head out of the sand.

In other news, I owe Megan fifty-or-so dollars for a ticket to see Weezer and the Foo Fighters.

My joy at such rockgasmic prospects pushes my annoyance and thinning patience at her scornful, sarcastic, sneering attitude (interesing how so many mean-spirited words start with same letter as my last name) about all things Christian onto the back burner, and for this...hm. I'm not sure whether or not I feel bad about this. I should be sticking up for what I believe, but at the same time, there's no point in shoving it in her face, because that would only more deeply instill her highly negative opinion.

I'm going to stop right there with this, because I just realized that the paragraph(s) I was about to write would have required a soap box, and that wouldn't have helped the situation either.

I love my sister. She loves me. Religious views aside, the fact that we love each other will have to be enough.

In the meantime:

DUDE. WEEZER.

This is the part where I squeal with excitement.

In other news, I cannot pronounce the name of the song I am listening to.

-K

BOT1000; 08/29/05-12/16/05; 12:20PM-1:10PM; M/W/F

ENC1101; 08/29/05-10/21.01; 10:10AM-11:55AM; M/W/F

MAT0002; Self-paced (with permission, wtf)

Mom guilted me out of an art class when I told her the line-up. "Oh good, that's only three trips a week." and "That's twelve hours of school a week with three classes, and I don't think you have the energy for four classes instead of three." Which made me doubt myself upon hearing it. Oh noes, twelve whole hours. I just might kill myself from all that effort.

And now she wants me to go and watch the boys while she takes a nap because she says she's about to fall on her face from being so tired.

Yep.

-K

The interweb has been crapping out on me for the past couple of days, so I haven't been on. Sorry.

I got the highest score you can on the Reading section of the CPT, and on whatever that sentence thing was called, I'm in the 88th percentile.

We won't mention the math, hmmkay?

Suffice it to say, I don't have to take Reading if I don't want to...and I'd rather take something else that I'd really enjoy instead since it's optional based on my CPT scores.

I fell asleep without putting on my retainer, and for some sadistic reason my orthodontist and his assistants all expect me to wear it for ten hours every night for the rest of my life (provided I still have teeth at the end of it). This means, since I woke up and put it on at around five, that I'd have to wear it until three o'clock this afternoon.

It's quite ridiculous.

I love Radiohead, but I find it obnoxious to have a several-minutes-long silence at the end of a song, only to have a few-seconds-long trill of follow-up music. None of the other bands that have done that are coming to mind right now, but there are more of them, I know.

Ham kept waking me up last night, and very vocally demanding that I pet her, and then lying down with her butt as close to my face as felinely possible.

My dearest Tim,

I love your portly aloofness. Don't ever change, Fatty.

Sincerely,

Your owner Kyrstan

Art.

I am tempted to go sneak into Kim's pool and swim. She told me I could swim in it any time I like, but how often do we take up offers like that? And how often do we take them up at three-thirty in the morning?

-K

...is boring, because I still have a few hours to go.

Mom just wandered by in her white nightgown with her hair hanging down loose, looking ethereal with the pale silver streaks against the black-brown. If I hadn't known she was sleeping in the family room to escape my dad's snoring, it quite possibly could have freaked me out.

Need to get in tune and write that talk.

Running out of time for everything, and at the same time I have nothing much to do.

I crave December.

-K

From now until after my trip in December, I will be on birth crontrol. I'll be quitting after the trip, because the only reason I'm on it is so I won't have my period in Europe, with four guys around me all the time.

I got the patch, because I know I won't ever be able to remember to take a pill every single day at the exact same time, and I can't afford to screw this up, because of the time-line I have to follow to make sure I don't have a period while we're trampling over Europe.

I am so considerate.

Also, since I'll be on it for less than a year, I didn't have to have a special exam.

I am always narrowly escaping.

I forgot to ask about getting a meningitis vaccination, and so did the nurse, or whoever took the message (you have to tell them why you're coming in, and they supposedly make a note of it so the doctor knows ahead of time) from mom when she called to make the appointment. I'm going back in three months anyhow, but I'd still rather have had the shot before I start college.

Finally finished this mixed CD for Lolly.

My hips hurt.

It doesn't matter that I told myself exactly what to expect. I still felt foolish and heart-sick when she told me how it all was.

-K

Hormonal downshift.

Ease back.

Take a deep breath and think before you left-click "done!".

Lace your new shoes; the ones that don't match your new pants, but you don't care and are going to wear them together anyway.

Fix that typo, you have a grammatical reputation to uphold.

Ignore the run-on sentences, though.

Stop thinking about that queso dip, you have things to do.

In other news, I'm tired.

Also, that banana split was delicious. Magically so, if you will.

-K

Death Cab For Cutie, you say?

Intrigue!

I'm still awake, you say?

Preposterous!

Ha-rumph, even!

-K

When the Islamic woman and the news anchor talked about how some people are dipping bullets in pigs' blood and then shooting people with them, that appeared across the screen, at the bottom, and I stared blankly at it: amused, surprised, angry, and then defeatedly indifferent.

"If you have the blood of a pig in you, you cannot get into Heaven," and I know she meant it with a capital H.

Yet some are still saying that the war is not religous.

While we were decorating the bulletin board, Kim was using a black Prismacolor marker, and the smell made me think of Hchano, and then there you are on the tagboard when I've been thinking of you not even an hour earlier.

Does it ever get any easier, or will I still miss you this much when it's been a year? And next month? A week from now? Tomorrow?

Will I still feel like part of me is gone, or will it eventually fill up with other things; other people?

Sometimes I honestly don't expect to ever see you again.

"One day," I'll think to myself. "One day, I'll go and see mum. I should go on a Saturday or a Sunday, or maybe in the evening. Take her some flowers or make them a pan of brownies or a cake, and a note to leave in case she isn't there."

And I can clearly see myself on the vespa I want to buy, putt-putting along the road past the stadium, and on down past the giant penis Capital Building, Borders, Wal-Mart, that broken-down gas station that they still have boarded up. Over the cracked and broken ruts of your dirt road, which isn't your dirt road anymore. Into a driveway that isn't yours anymore. I can see myself walking up to the gate, and I see that porch and the chairs are dusted yellow with pollen. The dogs are barking and sniffing me in personal places and I'm pulling my jacket (I will get a jacket to wear with my vespa, and I will have a stylish helmet and goggles) down to keep their wet, dirty noses from smearing my pants. Around past the house to rub the horses' noses and being careful not to get jumped on by Goatie. Maybe help mum with mucking out the barn.

And then it never gets done.

I never wonder why I feel resentment, because I know. I never wonder why you left or why you stayed, because I know that, too. I never think to myself that it will be the same if I see you again, because I know it won't. I only wonder how long ago it was that I stopped saying "if" instead of "when" while speaking of seeing you again.

Well!

That certainly wasn't what I expected to write.

-K

The wrath of Dennis = causing the power to be out yesterday, from 10:30AM to 11:40PM.

I think I owe you an apology, there, Dennis.

But not much of one, because I am stubborn and still think you have an inappropriate name.

Besides, mom and I took a perfectly nice walk in the pouring rain, and I was fine until I came inside and took a shower and got a headache from the cold water (the power was still off and there was no hot water to shower with).

Overall, I was mostly just uncomfortable.

We had the generator hooked up to the freezer, the fridge, and one lamp, which we gathered around when it got dark. It was weird/nice with all four of us reading in the family room like that.

My family bond is stronger than you, Dennis. Just you think about that.

-K

Oh, Buffy.

Fun party today.

Melissa found a gray hair on my head. She pulled it out for me. I need to stop getting so stressed over things that always end up being okay.

My throat is sore from all the laughing I've done the past two days.

No church today, because of Hurricane Dennis. Why do they pick names like that for hurricanes? Like Francis. It's not very intimidating. I'd expect a violent force of nature like that to get a more hardcore-sounding name. Something with weight behind it, you know? Something that, just hearing the name, you can visualize it flattening your house and carrying your dog off to the Land of Oz. I just don't expect that kind of furious wrath from Dennis.

I just don't.

...And I bet this is the part where a tree lands on me and I inexplicably explode.

-K

Do you have any idea how hard it is to understand phonetically written Scottish accents?

All those who've read Trainspotting highfive each other.

Sometimes Batalha calls me.

And I'm all, "Hey kiddo. What's up?"

And then Batalha's like, "Oh, you know how it is. I'm just sort of hanging around. Nothing exciting."

And I say, "Man, I know how that feels."

And Batalha says, "I'll just bet you do."

And then I stop talking to myself and get some blueberry cobbler à la mode.

So. Good.

-K

I have not watched that movie in so long.

Second job offer ever tonight...but it was a vague sort of thing, and I don't like the guy very much...so, eh.

Kim = in Atlanta for a job offer of her own. I will be really happy for her if she gets it, but I'll miss her horribly. People I love and depend on need to stop moving away, because it's getting really old.

Sushi? Yes, please!

I've spent a little over $200 on clothing (also a pair of shoes and two purses). Ooooohhhh man. I haven't even begun to buy things for the trip yet, either, and there are still things I need to get.

Mom and I went to Megan and Robert's for the Fourth, and her neighbor John (mentally handicapped) had some very impressive and very illegal fireworks. He'd decked out the majority of the neighborhood in flags and flag-shaped lights on strings, and there was a giant Uncle Sam in his yard.
And while he put on his firework display, he played the Star Wars theme, that song The Danger Zone, some song by Linkin Park, and then the theme from...I think it was Beverly Hills Cop, followed by other songs we couldn't hear because the fireworks were too loud. All of which I found incredibly surreal.
Their next-door neighbor, Dan (who sometimes parks his truck over their water main and has broken it three times), was shooting off bottle-rockets. As his aim grew progressively lower, my apprehension grew, as did my certainty that he would eventually shoot one into the house across the street. My overactive imagination ran wild.
While the fiery inferno of pandemonium I had envisaged did not blaze into patriotic existance, he did eventually shoot one straight into the shutters of the window next to the front door of aforementioned house.
Melissa and I spoke in hushed, indignant (and amused) voices about Dan's stupidity. (Paraphrasing) "And the thing is, John, who is mentally handicapped, has absolutely no trouble handling the real stuff. But Dan can't even aim a bottle-rocket."
One of the other neighbors commented loudly on his terrible aim, while a woman ran across the street to make sure the house hand't caught fire. Fortunately, the air was humid enough for a fish to breathe and there was only a bit of smoke.
The fireworks were breath-taking, and we all had sore necks from craining them up to watch. Lucky me, I see a chiropractor twice a week for that FMS study.

-K

I bet I had something funnier to say up there.

Robert came over to try to fix WoW. He un-installed it, re-installed it, chatted with J-D and myself, and ate cookies. None of it seemed to help. Maybe mom should make him brownies next time instead...

Have you ever noticed that our national holiday smells like violence?

(gunshot = smells like fireworks)

Happy Independence Day.

-K

Lina and Tiff finally set a date! I am incredibly giddy about it and happy for them!

<3 K

Once again, stuff I don't want to forget, so I am typing it:

Monday, shopping and passport photo+turn in application (I also need to call TCC still...oi). This is where I glare meaningfully at Blayne and Forrest. But mostly Blayne because he did most of the pseudo-shouting. And then I get to join them in glaring at Keath for not having his passport yet, if he still doesn't have the paperwork turned in on Monday.

McKinley keeps coming in here while I'm reading, or trying to nap. He either sits on the bed or the footstool by the bed, and chatters at me until I respond. Either that, or he gets into my stuff.

It's horribly annoying and endearing all at once. He's more like a little brother than a nephew. I remember bugging my older siblings out of affection, and the desire to spend time with them/get attention from them.

I would like to issue an apology of sorts to my older siblings (who don't read this, but this is all for my own conscience anyhow) for all the obnoxious things I said and did, which I hope, in the end, were as endearing as McKinley's persistent attentions.

Honestly, I am torn between bodily hauling him out of the room and locking the door, and smothering him with hugs.

Anyhow.

I made a cake on Monday. Petrea came back from the store with McKinley and Ian, and the first thing out of McKinley's mouth was, "WE'RE MAKING CUPCAAAAKESSSsss!" and after a small kittenfit after my mild protestations, we ended up with my vanilla cake, twelve strawberry cupcakes (Ian's), Twelve chocolate cupcakes (McKinley's), and a marble cake made from the remnants of the cupcake batter.

On Tuesday I took the marble cake to the Webbs' place, where I found Evan had brought over a quantity strawberries. Since Kim and I were headed to the store and Kim has to get up very early in the mornings, we didn't stay to eat either. If I hadn't already been stuffed with Chinese food, I would have minded a bit more.

It has come to my attention that blueberry smoothies are utterly delicious. I also need to stop talking about food, because I've been overly hungry lately, and this isn't helping at all.

I think...bittepizza. Yes.

-K

“We haven’t been stuck in traffic this bad for months,” my mom said to me, and I said nothing, as there wasn’t much to say. I was staring vacantly out of the windows, the windshield, into myself.

A bright, erratic movement across the windshield caught my attention. It was a butterfly, bigger than the palm of my hand, fluttering across the road in the heat and humidity of the heavy sky and the crowded lanes.

I could say it was a powerful, moving experience; this bright yellow flash of nature struggling across a dingy urban sprawl (or what passes for one in this town), but that would make me a liar. Really, it was over too quickly for me to have any reaction other than a swift visual identification, just the split-second it takes for the eyes to see and the brain to tell them what they’re seeing.

I followed it without thinking, still stunned, until it was beyond the turn lane where I couldn’t see it. Besides, butterflies always flutter like that, so there's really no telling if it was actually struggling or not.

And the kind of struggle that that particular order of words brings to mind is a wholly human kind of emotion that I doubt butterflies are ever plagued with.

Then we were driving on, towards the credit union to drop off McKinley and Wyatt. I felt twinges of regret for being short with McKinley earlier.

He'd been shouting and playing with a loud, obnoxious toy (courtesy of Aunt Petrea) while mom was on the phone, and I'd asked him several times to be quiet. I asked politely and calmly at first, but as a person who likes to get a lot of sleep, and after having been awake for over the average twelve hours, I stopped being calm and polite after the third asking. I felt my vocal chords tighten and my tone become harder, less forgiving. Soon after, I'd had enough and stupidly grabbed it from him, knowing the moment I did it that he would scream. And of course, he screamed.

Gritting my teeth, I reminded him for the fiftieth time today that screaming and whining for things is not the way to get them, and he did the only thing he ever does that truly annoys me: he sniveled. I don't mean an actual snivel, as if he'd been honestly hurt. I mean a fake cry, put on for whatever reason it is that children have for faking sadness.

But by then mom was off the phone and it didn't matter anymore, so regardless of his begrudging and insincere "please" I gave him the toy. He didn't play with it after that, but only stared with his wide and beautiful eyes with their impossibly long lashes out of the window, and I followed suit, which I guess brings us up to the Butterfly Incident.

From the credit union (sans nephews) to weight training for the Fibromyalgia study I'm participating in, where Derek (Derrek?), the guy conducting said study, told me I had an A-line figure with no hips, after I told him that I seldom found any shorts I liked, and that's one of the reasons I mostly own jeans.

See, last week he'd made a comment about my wearing jeans to work out in, which is ridiculous because the whole time I'd been in the last study he did, I wore jeans. They were baggier, sure, but still jeans.

I had no polite response to his comment on my figure because honestly, I was too taken aback. Also, it's not entirely true. I'm no Barbie doll, but neither am I a stick. And there's the fact that I've seen myself naked and he hasn't, so I consider my opinion on the matter to be better formed (har har) than his.

He met me when I was in highschool though, and the first impressions you have of some one are hard to get rid of. In highschool, I was overly fond of baggy, shape-hiding clothes. I remember the night when I uncertainly put on a shirt that was tighter than usual, and Megan and Debbie said in amused shock, "Kyrstan...you have hips!" and, "When did that happen?" I didn't have a response for that, either.

And then, as sometimes happens when my mom is talking to some one with medical knowledge about me, the subject of my frequent anemia came up, and he asked me how heavy my periods are. Again, I was slightly stunned. It's a personal question, even coming from another woman if I don't know the person asking well enough.

I answered, because I knew if I didn't my mom would, and she'd possibly get it wrong. I silently and fervently prayed that I wasn't blushing, worrying that my fear of blushing would make me blush. It does that a lot, you see, and it's been happening more often lately.

Therefore, what?

Anyone know about butterflies? If so, what kind of butterfly is big, yellow and black, and lives in northern Florida?

Thanks in advance!

-K

I cracked my knuckle on that swinging cover for Fiver's tower. You know, the part on computers that covers the power button and all that important stuff? Well, it scraped the middle joint of my left index finger. I keep forgetting that it's possible to cut yourself on plastic. But then, I always manage to cut myself on odd things. Like that dresser, and safety scissors, and the cap of a Gatorade bottle.

I wonder if it's just that I don't pay enough attention to my surroundings when I'm focusing hard on something else? Like the way I've bruised myself more than once on the corner of the piano. I walk purposefully or hurriedly past it to do something and clip my thigh. I've got three bruises on my right thigh, and there is only one I can account for: from running past the piano. The others, I have no idea how I got.

I don't think I'm all that clumsy or accident prone. I think maybe I'm too single-minded sometimes.

Anyhow. New Gorillaz album? Rock on.

I need to go shopping for clothes. Megan said we could go week after next. I'd prefer not to wait, but there is also some random tax free thing or some such-like thing happening that week, so it's all good. Need to get my hair cut again, too. I've discovered that I like it better short. It's harder to keep my bangs out of my eyes, but it just looks better and is easier to take care of.

Cinnamon granola bars are delicious.

Debbie's cat is really nice and all, but she's so demanding. If you don't get up and open your door at three in the morning, she will stay outside of it and howl until you let her in and pet her. It's a nice change from Tim's stand-offish nature, but it makes me appreciate him. He doesn't need my affection, so when he wants it and comes to me to get it, it means more.

You can skip this paragraph, I'm making a list of stuff I need to do next week, so I don't forget, and I am too lazy to find paper and pencil to write it down: Monday, probably have physical therapy; call Kim about the bulletin board and class on Tuesday. Tuesday, class and possibly the bulletin board. Wednesday, buy stuff for smoothies; go to physical therapy; go to Blayne's. Thursday...uhmm, nothing for Thursday...ask mom about going to the Library. Friday, clean up the house for family dinner thing; probably PT again. Saturday, Loran and Liane coming over? Sunday, somehow manage to look good; go to church; f w/ E?

Okay, I think that's it.

-K