Whirlpools, Undertow, and Tidal Waves

New Blog

2008-09-03T13:41:00.000-06:00

http://insearchofgertrudespast.blogspot.com/

Long and Winding

2008-06-19T15:12:00.003-06:00

Haven't written in a very long time, mostly because I had so much news and so many stories that I couldn't bring myself to begin.

Now I will tell one story:

I got fired today.

And deliver one news item:

I'm leaving for NYC at the end of the month, if all goes according to plan.

So:

If you have any desire to see me, just gimme a call. I have lots of free time.
If you're in NY in the near future (or there already), look me up. I'll be in Williamsburg, on 3rd, near the bridge.

LATER.

That Time Again

2008-04-05T14:52:00.002-06:00

Woo woo my birthday is on Tuesday. I will be 23, in case you were wondering.

Carly and I are planning to bop around the fair city of MPLS, starting at Pancho Villa on Nicolette at 7pm, followed by Palmer's and possibly Grumpy's DT. Come to Pancho's for 2-4-1 Margheritas, or just give one of us a call at any point to join up in the festivities!

Stuff and More Stuff

2008-03-24T10:45:00.004-06:00

I've been experiencing this new thing where if I drink at all, even if I only have a couple and don't go to sleep until 3 am, I wake up between 6 and 8 am, super stoked and full of restless energy. So I've been jumping out of bed and walking down to Spyhouse and emailing and internetting in the morning sunshine. It's kinda nice, but weird, to me. Today I decided to up the ante and go to Bad Waitress and have breakfast with myself and the internet. It's been suprisingly enjoyable!

And now, a story.

River

The house is long, low, and dark, resembling a slightly more menacing Frank Lloyd Wright creation. It sat back, nestled among towering evergreen trees that tinkled delicately in the silence of the sky where it stretched over the wide, slow-moving river. Although cloudless, the water's reflection of the ether was dark, sappharine blue, and fathomless.

I am in care of the mansion compound, though I don't enter often. The occupants are unknown to me. My days are spent with a group of nomadic peoples of indeterminate race, who currently inhabit the edge of the forest near the house. Their homes are simple structures, lean-to's with few comforts, built into a hillside where rainwater has washed away the undergrowth on it's path to the river, revealing the rich black soil characteristic of this region. Although they don't speak to me much, I feel more comfortable around their fire than I do in the shadowy beauty of the empty house. From what I've gathered, these 20 or so people simply felt rejected by the society into which they were born, in a village approximately 20 miles North of our current location. There, only blue eyed first born sons were given privilige, although they had to face considerable rights of passage upon the first full moon of their 13th year.

The nomads were dissenters, who also disagreed with the practice of sacrificing goats during religious celebrations, which were inherent to their tribe's social organization. I suppose I felt an affinity for these outcasts, as I myself had moved away from the urban center I previously resided in, with its crowded freeways and hardscrabble economy.

Around the fire, you could feel the dampness of the soil, the cool air reserved among the broad fronds of the evergreen, and the lick of flame as it cooked venison. The smells of the camp were something that took some time to get accustomed to. The nomads were generally clad in animal hides and fur, which retained a musky scent, derived either from the curing process or from the people themselves. The smell of venison has an almost metallic, pungent odor, perhaps due to the adrenaline which courses through a wild animal's veins at the time it is caught.

I myself recently experienced the phenomenon of our bodies' chemical response to danger. Crossing the bridge from the camp to the estate, one of the ancient cedar planks which created the surface of the structure gave way beneath my foot, sending me on a course for the bottom of the river. The water was apparently as thick as it was dark, and I felt as though I was being sucked down by clear blue molasses. I soon reached the bed of the river, which was covered by smooth gray rocks about the size of my palm. I began to panic as my ability to hold my breath waned, and as I looked to the surface of the deep water, an enormous school of large silver fish swarmed above, as birds in the air, their long, sharp teeth peaking out from the tips of their snouts. I could see the trees which lined the bank, lusciously green and wavering with the current, as well as the sky, like a streak of lightening cutting it's way through the forest above it's companion, the river.

The fascination aroused by the fish and their journey across the sky somehow postponed my need to draw breath, and as they passed downriver, I pushed for the surface of the heavy, coursing water, fanning my arms and momentarily wishing I could co-opt the fins of the strange fish. I reached the surface and found one of the nomads holding a pole out to me, which I used to pull myself to the shore, exhausted. He asked if I saw the school heading downriver, and when I told him I had, he ran back to the camp.

To Be Continued

Ramblin' Rose

2008-03-19T09:44:00.002-06:00

Had a fun silly day yester. Caffetto, MOA with Jocie to prepare for her trip to NYC, got food stoned on mall chow and went to work. Went by fast, as I was the DJ for the night. Laura Fulk picked me up and we went to the T Rock, where much running-into ensued. Nick came and met us and was in a decidedly improved mood.

Had a very interesting conversation with him and Zach Pearl about perception of self and projection and intentions. It's so wonderful when one of your friend's genius highlights the other's, thereby causing you to appreciate each all the more.

Nick and I are going to Bemidji tomorrow morning. I am very excited. It should be extremely interesting. I'm sure he will get on very well with Ma.

Oh, and I have a new 'thing.' Going to Barbette after work on Mondays (at like 5 -- happy hour!) when Joc gets off work and drinking Champagne and eating nice things. Any and all should join (I'm looking at you James)!

Bye!

Conversation

2008-03-13T16:33:00.000-06:00

me: yes. we have bigger fish to fry.
i will meet someone in a salvatore ferragamo suit.
Maureen: he says shit like this every week. and i'm like, "Perry get a grip. Do your homework, go to class, and we'll see when summer comes, ok?"
me: or ermenegildo zegna.
Maureen: perry will give us the hook up
me: dude.
Maureen: hell every fucker i know at princeton will give us the hookup
these kids are crazy
me: this is what i'm taling about.
DOUBLE TROUBLE.
DYNAMIC DUO
Maureen: [nose smile]
me: WE WILL SLAY
with our midwestern good sense.
Maureen: the funny thing is, i think they think i am one of them?
bcs perry's dad knew my dad at princeton
me: OOHHHHHHHHHH
Maureen: and i'm like, his princeton was NOT the same as your dad's princeton
me: that changes everythign.
Maureen: all the same
me: yeah.
Maureen: minnesota = no man's land
me: tevs. i am no man of the land.
i am all and nothing.
Maureen: you will be the exotic girl from hippie world who grew up on a res
i told your story
everyone was dazzled
me: uh oh.
oh man.
Maureen: who randomly learned ancient greek
me: now i have rep.
hahaha
Maureen: girl you have a MYTH built around you
in my head at least
me: it does sound pretty wild in bullet point format.
i'll have to really rub it all in.
lol
[smile]
I'M SO EXCITED I'M JUMPING OUT OF MY SKIN BUT IT MIGHT ALSO BE THE ESPRESSO

Hey Jaws, Think This Was Us?

2008-03-12T13:19:00.001-06:00

gorgeous brunette at the CC club tuesday night - m4w
Reply to: pers-603486817@craigslist.org
Date: 2008-03-11, 11:59PM CDT

Hi there,

You were with a female blonde friend. you were in jeans and a black shirt....I have seen you there one other time.

I was sketching in the booth across from you.

I just wanted to say that i think you are absolutely gorgeous.

Also...

2008-03-09T14:01:00.000-06:00

Part II of the Virgin may be found below, with Part I.

News of The Me

2008-03-07T14:45:00.002-06:00

Man, it's been a tough month. After the endless broke-ness of unemployment, and my dad's heart surgery dramas, I finally feel like I'm coming through the other side. Comfortable, kind of assured. Haven't had that in a while.

Spring's around the corner, which always has a dual effect, it seems. People get filled with the Fever, excited about the prospect of approaching summer and everything that connotes. The flip side is that everybody also seems to start FREAKING OUT. I've always noticed this. I usually just have a week long meltdown, which I think I've gotten over early this year (hopefully). Things seem to smooth out by the time my birthday comes, so hopefully that'll be the case this year as well.

Speaking of my bday, which is in April, there are some big changes shakin. I might move into the house Dick Donovan lives in next month, right on Lyndale. Much cheaper rent, much less pressure. This is what I'm looking for. I just can't afford my big beautiful studio anymore, which is saaaaaaaaad, but oh well, right? Plus, it's time to start saving for even bigger stuff, like moving to NYC in September!

It's high time for me to mosey along and go do something different for a while. I don't feel like I'm finding the opportunites I need here job-wise, and I just kinda feel like living somewhere else for a while! Maureen has invited me to be her roommate, and she's getting a place somewhere in Broklyn this summer. In addition, my brother is waiting to hear back from Eugene Lang, which is part of the New School, so we would both be relocating at the same time. I really, really hope he gets in.

In the meantime, I'm going to take an advanced/intensive French reading course this summer and start studying up for the GRE's. And SAVING. Then I'll be applying for grad school at City University New York the following winter, to start a year from this coming fall. These are my schemes. So we shall see!

If anyone has advice, or any kind of job connections, be sure to let me know!!!

Over and Out.

What A Day

2008-02-01T18:15:00.000-06:00

The winds of change are a-blowin, methinks. Started working at Dunn Bros, through a total fluke. Was meeting up with Brian to go to the bank and get him a checking account. He thought the Lake St. store was hiring, and had Jessi call Sanjeev and BAM, had an interview, and BADDA-BING! Job! That's good. Feels good to be working, learning how to make coffee, hanging out with cool coworkers. B got his checking account just fine, and then we met up with my parents, who were stopping through town. Also met my retarded little sister, Sophie, my mom's Bichon Frise. So that was eventful.

The day I started at Dunn Bros, MCAD called me for an interview, which I had today. This would be an ultimate dream job, and it pays $29,000, plus benefits. Was totally unprepared, through no fault of my own, for the fact that all four department heads would be interviewing me. Very intense, very difficult questions. But I think I represented myself as best I could. So we shall see. Fingers crossed.

Talked to my mom alot today, who informed me that my dad's heart condition is worse than they thought, which is causing some serious stress up north. But there's nothing I can do, so I'm trying to stay chill about it. She also told me that they're closing the elementary shcool in Squaw Lake, which had only 9 students. So now my childhood home has been torn down, AND my school is closed. I guess that's just the passing ofo time taking it's toll. Feels kinda funny though.

Pretty stressed out about rent being due and me being broke. Tried to file my taxes on TurboTax, which was a debacle. Think I'm just gonna do it at H&R Block to save myself the grief. Also selling my car to the junkyard, for $100. That's on Monday too. Lots of stuff to take care of. I'm sure it'll all sort itself out, as long as I stay reasonlably on top of things.

God, I hope I get that job. Can't get too worked up though.

Time to sign off. I am fried.

The Virgin (Part II)

2008-01-21T16:07:00.001-06:00

'uulgatos taceo' dixit 'pastoris amores
Daphnidis Idaei, quem nymphae paelicis ira
contulit in saxum (tantus dolor urit amantes);
nec loquor ut quondam naturae iure nouato
ambiguus fuerit modo uir, modo femina Sithon.
te quoque, nunc adamas, quondam fidissime paruo,
Celmi, Ioui largoque satos Curetas ab imbri
et Crocon in qaruos uersum cum Similace flores
praetereo dulcique animos nouitate tenebo...

Magdalena, when she finished with the story, experienced the bizzare sensation of a heatwave, which originated in her heart and spread with a nauseating pulse through her limbs, over and over. She wasn't too amenable to this new sensation, and suddenly began to dream again of the ocean, who's waves were cool, but awfully far away. She thought of death, of life, and of the things which might be in between.

The feeling passed, and Magdalena got the sense that she should be having a revelation. Rather, she realized that she had been sitting in the sun for a long time, with no water, and only a mealy mango to keep her going. Deciding that this was the source of her recent turmoil, she headed towards the tin and leather shed, and her father.

The evil ghost they both knew as boredom had enveloped Zvi as well, and Magdalena found him vacant on a rocking chair, in the shade of a makeshift porch. Though a tender hearted and loving man, Zvi had a broken liver which caused him to have a rather taciturn nature, as he was concerned about the effects conversation could have on his health. If he became overly excited, he reasoned, his bile might get stirred up and cause his body's toxins to intermingle in disasterous ways. So he mostly kept to himself, in the rocking chair. Magdalena wondered what he mused about, if anything, but didn't want to upset his liver by asking.

Thus she was left to her own devices when contemplating this potential revelation brought on by Lizaveta's story. She would have asked her mother Lili about it, if she weren't out looking for flowers. Magdalena went inside her dark, almost cool home and lay down on the cot which served as her bed, in the corner. Her mind drifted to the possibilites of miracles, and how they were granted. She decided that they came not from Zeus or some omniscient diety, but from the force of human will to believe in them. The ability to believe things into existance may be the only thing that has ever made anything happen. Zvi believed in love, back when his liver worked, and he found Lili on an ice floe in the Arctic Circle. Lili believed flowers should burst from window boxes in the arid interior of Portugal, and so they did.

Magdalena believed she needed a friend. Someone or something to love, which would be her companion and bastion from boredom in return. She just wasn't sure where this mysterious entity would come from, although the ache in her heart and belly, felt from the time of the quasi-revelation to the present moment, was brewing a plan of its own.

The Virgin

2008-01-16T13:02:00.000-06:00

Sea-girl, Magdalena
says, ca-caw ca-caw
squaking a song to
nothing at all,
at all at all.

She lived in a funny part of Portugal, where not much went on. There was dust, there were brambles, and some crooked, dry trees. Her house was tin and leather, where she stayed with her parents, mostly her father; mom was very busy, out and about.

Magdalena often cursed her fate, thinking she was meant for much more, as young girls will. Although she did cool her heels when she thought of her mother's early days. Father had found her on an island in the Arctic Ocean, off the coast of Lapland, where even less went on. Rather than tin and leather, she was surrounded by hides and ice, in an igloo, as the Inuits call it. Lili had neither mother nor father - just an old crone they called Lizaveta, because she was Russian and smelled of the sebum which is secreeted by seals. Anyway, Zvi found Lili on an expedition. He was from Israel, which was considering a national relocation. Lapland had its appeal, what with the Reindeer and all. But when Lili was discovered, Zvi and his party were more or less on a joy ride, swirling and swooshing through glaciers and ice-floes.

If only they'd known they were going to find a beautiful girl and a smelly old lady. They would have brought Champagne and soap, to be sure. Lili had pale green eyes, ones you don't see very often, and a charming snaggle-tooth. Her skin was smooth and tawny, despite the arctic clime. You know the sun reflects off snow.
Lizaveta, on the other hand, had a large hooked nose, wart and all, squinting eyes hidden behind crows feet which had turned into wings, and was wrapped in so much fur she looked like the combination of a rock, Frankenstein's monster, and a Werewolf.

Zvi thought this was no kind of place for Lili, and invited her and Lizaveta aboard. He and the Israelites were travelling on an arctic schooner, which had warm quarters below deck, resembling a bear's den. The stove burned whale blubber, and emitted an odor comparable to that of a perfume factory. The two L's were amenable to the offer, and clambered into the bear's den, which felt more like home to them than the igloo.

The long and short of it is that they ended up in Portugal. Lili wanted to be a florist, and Zvi thought he'd convert to Islam. There were lots of mosques around, but not many flowers, which is why Magdalena's mother was gone more often than not. Zvi didn't seem to mind. He was just happy to be rid of Lizaveta (died of a heat stroke), with her seal smell and her grumbles under the fur.

Meanwhile, Magdalena was thinking the ocean was the place for her. She thought about swimming, and about drowning, and was fairly sure she'd be okay with either. Then she found one of Lizaveta's old books. In it was a story about the daughter of a God, who was born from her father's semen floating in the ocean, which was the foam of the sea. She came to shore on a seashell, with her hair wrapped around her bare form. This is when the gears really started turning for our Virgin.

To Be Continued

I'm Thinkin On It

2008-01-12T12:01:00.000-06:00

Someone dear said to me last night that it would be amazing if I did all the things I spontaneously think about doing. That the products of these ideas would be worthwhile. I don't know if that's true, but it made me think. Am I super lazy? (The answer to this is 'Yes'). I think the other half of the problem is that I don't believe it would be good, as I just stated above. What's my deal? Why don't I think I'm good at anything besides writing essays and droning in offices? Probably because I've never given myself a chance. And I'm lazy.

Seriously. I'm what I would call a 'pleasure seeker,' and I derive the most pleasure from interacting with my friends, which doesn't leave a lot of time for me to work on my personal pursuits, whatever those may be. So far all I do is read. But I think I've done enough reading now to start writing.

Another issue is that I don't usually generate ideas in isolation. I need to talk and ruminate and ramble with others to come to my ideas. Like last night I was arguing about how being bored could give you a rash, because stress can give you a rash, and you can get stressed out from boredom, so boredom is the root cause of the rash. Brian said this was like thinking you could pray yourself pregnant. Which gave me the idea to write a story about a teenage girl named Magdalena who is so bored that she decides to knock herself up. For entertainment. Then I decided I would write a short story every day of my unemployment, which is what started the conversation referred to in the initial thought of this post.

So now you see my process. I'm blogging because of a conversation, and I got a story idea from said conversation.

But maybe I will do more writing. I need to harness my willpower, my belief in myself, and the ability to be alone for more than an hour at a time.

Speaking of hanging out with yourself, I left the CC Club pretty early last night, biked home, and took a long bath. Then I finally hooked up my tv and dvd player and watched The Last Waltz from bed. God damn, that was awesome. So I had a pretty great date with myself. I also realized that I have a crush on Robbie Robertson and Rick Danko. And I LOVE Danko's voice. I had to watch the video to realize he sang 'It Makes No Difference,' which is an inherently sappy song, though it's so god damn sweet that you have to love it. I had a transcendental moment because of that song.

I put the record on, and wasn't really paying attention. I think I was sitting in the windowsill smoking and thinking to myself. Then I sort of spontaneously started crying, weeping actually, until I came to and realized it was the sound of the person's voice who was singing the song. That's when I fell in love with The Band.
Holy shit, what a bunch of amazing musicians. And they all have such incredibly diverse personalities, and each equally interesting. Also Van Morrison's performance is the bomb. He looks like this crazy, chubby little pip squeak next to Robertson and Danko, in a purple bodysuit thing with sparkles. Then he starts singing and you're like, 'Holy shit! Where is that coming from?' Then you realize it's fucking Van Morrison. Yow.

Also, I loved Ron Wood's appearance, along with Ringo Starr, for the finale. He looks like this big hawkish, cynical creep up there amisdt all love vibes being circulated by The Band and co. Very interesting.

Okay, enough ranting. Gotta get moving. Lots of social obligations to distract me from myself.

NYE Snapshots

2008-01-01T16:41:00.001-06:00

A man being stunned by the brilliance of my golden finery!

Daughters of the Sun covered Barrett-era Pink Floyd!

Vampire Hands covering Funhouse-era Stooges, with Nate Nelson of STNNG. I believe Colin has peanut butter on him.

Photos were taken by Jason.

2008

2008-01-01T16:22:00.000-06:00

Oh my oh my here we are. It kept occurring to me last night that I never really conceived of the fact that I would be living in the 2000's. It really seems kind of funny, doesn't it?
The turning over of a new year always comes as a sort of suprise to me. Like, '08? Really? It sounds so foreign. But 8 is one of my lucky numbers, so hopefully the year ahead will be better than the year behind. Especially since I'm starting the year completely broke. Like Sheila said, it's only up from here!

Another thing I find funny is that the majority of people begin a new year intoxicated, and then hungover. Not that I'm an exception. It's just that if it really is a major event, worthy of parties and declarations and resolutions, shouldn't we embrace it with a clear and healthy mind?
I'm sure I'm just putting way too much thought into it. Most people have NYD off, and it's an excuse to party, so why not? I don't know, it's just made me kinda depressed to see people drinking around the holidays. Family Values 08!

My one resolution: QUIT SMOKING.
First thoughts of the day:
1) How did I get here? When did Dick leave? How did I get into my pajamas?
2) "Ooh, I hope Maureen left her pretty dresses here so I can try them all on!"
3) Want Cigarette!

But once I let the urge pass, and the hangover kick in, I don't really feel like smoking. AND I don't feel at all crabby or weird! Maybe this will just be a nice clean break. I'm really excited to start saving money, and for my lungs to be nice and fresh in the spring! I'm going to be a speed machine!
I am scared of getting fat though. Oh well, I suppose it's all just self control, which is something I'm learning.

So maybe 2008 will be the year of self-control and determination.

ευγνώμων

2007-12-20T12:43:00.000-06:00

Is This Existentialism? Prolly Not.

2007-12-18T11:06:00.000-06:00

I often ponder the fact that the choices I've made, one month ago, one year ago, or five years ago, are directly influencing my state of being at this very time and place. Rather than feel remorseful or contemptuous, I am generally comforted by the idea of reaping what I sow. It reduces the seeming senselessness of my life, what I am doing. For the most part. The other factors, unrelated to my choices, also have their cause-and-effect relationship with the goings-on in the big world, though I try not to toss too much responsibility that way.

My interpersonal relationships are influenced directly by my choices, while my relationship with the society in which I live is not so much within the bounds of my control.

For instance, I am single because I didn't want to marry my Highschool Sweetheart (which at the time I saw as the inevitable outcome of being in that relationship), and I just have to accept that.

I can also see the influence of my choices in my friendships, though there is a little grain of wonder and mystery therein. When I was almost incapable of making choices, and ran around Minneapolis like a Great Northern Wild Turkey with its head cut off, I happened upon the most wonderful group of friends a person could ask for, with whom I am still close. I met these people by crashing parties, hosted by people I didn't know, alone. So although I made direct choices, ie crashing parties, talking to the people I was drawn to, there is an unpredictable, fantastic element which coincides with the choice I made (or didn't make).

A few years down the road, I'm thinking I got it all figured out, and start making 'informed' choices, like which bar to hang out in, what would be a cool drink to drink or a hip song to sing. Choosing to associate with people, or sleep with them, or befriend them, based on a set of criteria only vaguely defined. These have proved to be much poorer choices, compounding any feeling of worthlessness that may reside somewhere deep in my heart-crannies.

Sounds like I either need to get back to complete randomness, or stop trying to meet people. The latter is much easier, and somehow lonlier.

As for my relationship with society, as I mentioned above, its machinations effect my circumstances, indirectly and directly, and I make a continual effort to keep myself from casting all responsiblity for my fate onto the seemingly injust character of our economy and educational system.

Basically I feel like my generation is being royally gipped of opportunities which we've been told were guaranteed us if we fed the college machine our parents' life earnings, and our future incomes. Totally not the case. The absurd unavailablity of affordable healthcare prevents the baby-boomers from retiring, keeps them clinging to their benefits packages, while recent graduates and nearly-homeless single mothers alike scramble for living-wage employment and as-needed doctor visits, all while attempting to pay student loans and/or feed children. This is the gap between the middle/upper class and the rest of America.

In addition, our country has a standing army, which has been engaged by every single president in living memory. Apparently there's always something that needs doing, though we all know this isn't necessarily the case. We have made ourselves into the world's self proclaimed watchdogs in order to feed a military-industrial complex that will be the undoing of our ever so powerful nation, much like the Romans. Our country supports the needs and interests of the top 1%, the rulers, while the rabble, aka the population, scurries around, short-changing, cheating, scrimping, and generally being miserable. Every man for himself. If that 1% doesn't start putting the interests of the rest of our population first, we are supremely fucked.

Hence, I could justify my feelings of failure and my inconsequential influence on the city I live in, the state, the country, with these lofty concepts, yet I refuse.
I refuse because I see my friends pursuing their goals and dreams, having success, being happy with their place in life. If they can do it I can too. Maybe it's just a frame of mind, rather than an action or choice. Or maybe it is choices, directly. I sense that most people I know are choosing to actively pursue the things that are important to them, to make life what they want it to be, while I allow myself to be buffeted and blown about by whatever socio-economic wind comes my way. I need to start fucking the man (in more ways than one), but I don't know how.

I'm Katherine Peterson, I'm an emotional fuck up and a piece of social driftwood. I'm going to change this, as soon as I figure out what to do about it.

I Am Growing Young.

2007-12-15T12:48:00.000-06:00

This dawned on me last night talking to Brian. I feel that the more I know, the more experiences I have, the more I realize how limitless the possiblities of the world are. Things can be so very, very, bad, and there is so much potential for good. Everything spans out in both directions infinitely. This makes me feel that I really know and understand nothing, much like a naieve child. I feel like a lost virgin, like a blank slate with nothing to put forth, because I know and understand nothing. This is in complete contrast to how I've felt my entire life.

The only thing I can compare it to is childhood. Wide-eyed wonder and a complete lack of comprehension or ability to think critically about the things around me. I simply do not understand.

Thus, I'm beginning to sense a sort of nameless fear and anxiety building within me. I don't know what's out there, or what effect it will have on me, so I have cut myself off. The idea of drunkeness, revelry, debauchery, bars, one night stands, puking, fighting...all these things are so repulsive to me that I fear them. Once again, this is a total 180. My lust for life has imploded on itself, and I don't know why.

As a result, I'm completely closed off from the people who mean so much to me. I feel like I don't know how to interact anymore. Like everthing is cumbersome and awkward, and potentially...evil, somehow.

I feel completely adrift, alone, with nothing to cling to, rushing down a rapids, no raft, no bearings, no rock or branch to reach out for. I don't feel close, or connected with anyone. Not my mom, not Beau, not even the one person I see every day, as of late.

This makes me completely miserable. And I have no idea how to change it. Even if I spent every minute with my friends, with people I do genuinely love, the same awkwardness and unease fills me, though it may not appear that way. If someone reached out to me, tried to show me love, I don't think I would know how to accept it, at this point, and that is the one thing I always felt I was made to do, to give and receive love. Maybe it's been so long since I've received it that I've lost the will.

I feel deeply unloved, even though this is totally untrue. And I feel sorry that I can't accept any love that might be offered, that that offering wouldn't change anything at this juncture.

I guess I'll have to wait it out.

This too shall pass.

Things I Fear

2007-12-05T14:07:00.000-06:00

Last Night (Sort Of)

2007-12-01T18:40:00.001-06:00

It was certainly more of a convergence than a wreck, but wow. Life takes you where it may.

Got confirmation that Ed is returning in February. YAAAAAAAAY!!!

Aubry will be back in a few weeks, as will Maureen. Woman love ahoy!

My mom had her interview for one of her potential positions down here (this was part of the aforementioned pile-up). It went really well and I am pining and hoping and praying for her to get called back for the 3rd and final round. If not, she still has a second interview for a job in St. Paul on the 12th.

Christmas is going to be INTENSE.

And I am feeling cryptic.

Impressions of Our Modern Society

2007-11-28T15:44:00.000-06:00

Here are a few things I've heard/received at work lately:

"I'm never gonna get married because I'm BLACK!"

"A catalogue really would have helped me with my holiday shopping for all my little friends back on the mainland." (MAJOR WTF).

And at the tail-end of an apology from an employee for stealing from (our) employer:

"P.S. PLEASE let a sister keep her (store issued credit card)!"

Wow.

Imaginary Life

2007-11-26T08:52:00.000-06:00

Sometimes I wish, or maybe wonder, that my biography will open with these lines:

God grant that the reader, emboldened and having become at present as fierce as what he is reading, find, without loss of bearings, his way, his wild and treacherous passage through the desolate swamps of these sombre, poison-soaked pages; for, unless he should bring to his reading a rigorous logic and a sustained mental effort at least as strong as his distrust, the lethal fumes of this book shall dissolve his soul as water does sugar.

-Comte de Lautreamont, Les Chants du Maldoror.

I've been on a surrealistic/symbolist French poetry rampage. Feeling bummed that I can't read in French.

Something about winter makes me want to sit at home in pajamas and glasses and read about evil.

I do highly recommend the above, in addition to:
Baudelaire, Les Fleurs du mal
Rimbaud, Collected Works

Special thanks to James for contributing to the beginnings of my collection.

Last week, when I picked up the Rimbaud, my sort-of-buddy Rich who works there told me how Rimbaud, by way of Dragnet, got him in to literature, and acid.
Apparently he was watching the show, when the detectives or whatever were called to 'a nightmarish scene'at a house where a teenage boy was dipping a paintbrush into the can and licking it. On the floor were copies of Les Fleurs du mal and Une Saison en Enfer. Rich thought this was pretty cool.

I'm out.

RAAAR

2007-11-24T16:01:00.000-06:00

Okay, I'm officially losing my marbles at work. They did buy us pizza today, which was pretty cool, but man. It was Pizza Hut, so we all felt pretty sick after.
Then I asked Tena what "word to your mother" meant. She burst out laughing and I belched.
That's the extent of cube entertainment.
Now I'll post some pictures in case you haven't seen these elsewheres:

Shooting Guns on the Rez

These are the people I spent Highschool with.

These are my parents.

These are my brothers.

This is me and one of my favorite ladies, Edwina Margaret Kelly.

There is a snapshot of my summer existance. Ah, for the days of yore!

HERE I AM!

2007-11-21T10:51:00.000-06:00

Okay, I'm actually going to start blogging again. I was on a real rampage for a while there, and then I just randomly tapered off. I will now offer a brief synopsis as to why this tapering occurred, and then I will return to your regularly scheduled content (as if I have any readers at this point), which includes mostly the mothballs which roll around in my brainial crevices, and random shit I find on the internet (even though I suck at the Internet).

So, here's the order of operations as pertains to the world of KtP:

1) Remember when I got that awesome art-dealer-assistant job, and as a result, that awesome apartment all to myself? Well, I got laid off. To this situation there were both pros and cons.
-Pros: I got paid to do jack shit at the gallery for about a month, as a sort of severance.
-Cons: The above is actually a pro and a con. This lay-off flung me into the pit of despair, and the resulting lack of duties at the gallery gave me no 'pupose.' So, I went on a crazed drinking escapade that lasted much longer than it should have, culminating in an unintended flight down a stairwell and almost-broken-hand.
-Back to the Pros: The combination of these aforementioned elements lead to forging two wonderful/pretty cool new friendships. Numero Uno would be Aubry, a Guamanian Princess of surpassing beauty and intelligence, and the kindest of hearts. She is now counted among my BFFs. Thank god for her. She almost single-handedly made life bearable, and made me love Karaoke more than my left pinkie.
Numero Dos is Mr. Nicholas Pichet, who has been one of the more entertaining acquaintences I've made to date. He is a very clever man, with many talents and many gadgets, which I love to tinker with, or just to watch him tinker with. He also has a gorgeous singing voice, which augmented my already feverish enjoyment of Karaoke.

2) Then Aubry moved to LA. ULTIMATE SAD FACE. SADSADSAD. Why do all the good ones flee away? Tell me! Anna and Maureen in New York, Shelby in Madison, Aubry out West. Sons of bitches! But I still have Jocelyn and Sheila. The girl tally, which must be consciously maintained lest I return to my less-than-satisfying tendancy to only associate with men, is less than 50/50 as pertains to MPLS. Damn.

3) Now I'm working for the Target Corporation, sitting in my little cubicle with my awesome cube-mate Tena, and writing blogs cause I have nothing better to do at the moment. Hence, my return to the blogosphere.

That was pretty boring. This probably will be too:

I have, yet again, a NEW LIFE PLAN. This one is for real, motherfuckers. I'm going to be a teacher! A Highschool Lit Teacher, to be more precise. Here are the steps I am taking towards this end:

1) I'm going to start Substitute and/or assistant teaching for the Minneapolis Public School system, or perhaps at a Charter or Alternative school. As you can see, this stage is still in formation, as I am currently employed and only researching/preparing at the moment. BUT I'M REALLY SERIOUS I SWEAR.

2) Grad school. I'm going to get an M.A. in Comparative Lit! This is very very exciting, because it means I have an excuse to go study whatever I want, and get to move to New York for a spell. My fear of grad school is gone, for it has now been bestowed with purpose. FUCK YES.

3) Teacher's Licence. Teaching Job. Maybe here, maybe elsewhere, we'll see.

Now, you may ask, why do you choose such a career, Ms. Peterson? Well, allow me to further ellucidate:

1) Teachers can be themselves. There is no cookie-cutter expectation for the personality or lifestyle of a teacher. As in, you may choose to relate to your students on your own terms, and you can teach anywhere. Out on the plains, in a big city, in a small town. The options are really (somewhat) endless.

2) You know your job is contributing to society in a way which can only be positive. I firmly believe that education is the most important foundation of society, and if I can make it better, then I will die happy.

3) It's the right level of challenge for me. I'm not a ladder-climbing careerist. It just doesn't interest me. I've given up on glamour. I want peace of mind and personal fufillment.

4) I'd be good at it! My biggest strengh is my ability to relate to people, to convey my views and feelings in an honest way, and to be open and receptive to the people around me. And I like kids.

5) Overall, being a teacher is an excuse to spend a lifetime learning, interacting, and doing good things, without all the bullshit of University Academia, which, in my opinion, sux.

So there's my update. As I said, I'll soon return to my usual drivel.

Love,
KtP

I Got Mis-Connection-ed (By a Girl)!

2007-08-22T09:13:00.000-06:00

They call you Katie P - w4w - 22

Reply to: pers-402883997@craigslist.org
Date: 2007-08-21, 10:12PM CDT

I see you at Caffetto all the time; cute punky hairdo, loud laugh, you look like you love life. You're beautiful, and I hope you know that the world is noticing.

Location: Caffetto, Mpls
it's NOT ok to contact this poster with services or other commercial interests

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