Taking Names & Jumping Fences

I feel nice. I'm high at work. Two of my classes got canceled. I was late to my other. But it was okay. I'm wearing my hair different. And my outfit's cool too. I'm listening to Blalock's September Playlist. But I'm sore. Horribly, incredibly, pitifully sore. I also just ate chocolate cookie dough ice cream. But it wasn't as good as Amsterdam.


So about Sunday night.


Well, it was one of the best night's of my life.


I'll tell you why.


I wasn't drinking, but I wasn't sober. I sat primarily on this porch at this house. A lot of people were drunk. But a lot of people who usually are slopping Captain & Coke messes were completely sober (myself included). That was the first strange but true fact of the night.


Second, there were PRE-PRE-LANYARDS there! YES, IN ENGLISH THAT TRANSLATES TO HIGH SCHOOLERS. Strange but True. Ended up fucking with some of them and told them I went to Colorado University, lived in Pueblo, and was only here for the weekend. And they believed it. For awhile.


Then, the primary, colorful driver of the night drove a pick-up-your-jaw-from-the-floor, 1970's whirlwind of nostalgia. A van. A love machine. The shit. The best part about this fucking van was that the inside of it was outer space. With "lived-in," worn-soft blue carpet, and topped with lines of lights on the ceiling, I was swooning over its aura of loveliness. Mmm. Strange but True.


Other Notable Parts of the Night:

-amsterdam was closed
-but bk wasn't
-and neither was ihop
-the drag queens we saw there figured that out as well
-the pedestrian bridge was an adventure
-i was scared of dogs
-i had pancakes for the first time in 3 years
-i had great conversations
-i didn't go to bed til 10 am
-& i jumped another mother fucking fence. 


But the best part of the night was that I saw people as they really were. They were either real of fake. I realized for the first time, in almost black-and-white contrasted knowledge, that I've always known this, but I've just never let myself think about it. I saw  people as people I could have a holy communion with, and people that I just talk to because they're there, because they exist. 


& then I was thinking about relationships. About how I've always thought relationships were about two people sharing a secret they only understand. When I was younger, much younger, that's how I clearly identified it. I haven't thought about that in years, but honestly, right now, I wonder if I ever stopped believing that. I think I've felt different my whole life, and that's not a bad thing, but I just wonder if anyone is going to find that secret inside me (as ridiculous and hackneyed as that sounds.) If I could commend anything about relationships, and the people who choose to be in them (for better or worse), it would have to be that those two people have guts. I've never put myself in a position with another person where I am brave, where I say how I really feel. 


And I don't know if I ever will. 


When I realized all of this Sundae Fundae night, it made me sad. But I'm glad that I know. 


"Oh, it's sad, but it feels so good, when you remember that you're not dead."

Oh, if you knew what it meant to me

There are things I've always known.

I biked with my 12 year-old gem of a kin, Michael, yesterday. He's been begging me to go biking with him all summer, and I have been regrettably "tomorrowing" him every time. But I'm so glad I finally went. 

Our destination was Sonic, probably ten minutes from my house via car, but easily 30 plus minutes on cycle. First we went to the nostalgic track I cited a few posts ago. We biked there, and despite the condemning "No Bikes, Animals, or Amateurs" pseudo-sign, we contravened the rules. With a hazy-ing 110 degree feel, Michael and I could only comprehend walking. After one lap of swimming through the deep-end of air, and unable to do another, I trapeezed onto my bike parked next to the bleachers, and started circling the track. While there were no other track-ees to watch out for (or piss off, for the matter), it felt badass, and wonderful. Michael joined me and together we did a couple miles, Best Coast and Beach Boys flooding and fueling my system. I don't know how long he had been doing it, but I noticed, waking from my sun daze, that Michael was standing in the middle of the lawn on the inside of the track, beneath the single, stoic sprinkler, getting drenched. I don't know what it was about the picture I saw, but I've never seen him look so old.

After the track, Michael and I took off on the trek to Sonic. I assumed we would be riding the streets, but to my surprise, we made it almost the whole way a la trail. It was great. It was great to have Michael lead the way as "tour guide." It was great to see how happy that made him. It was great to dust off the settings of so many of my childhood memories treated with thoughtless inattention. It was great to see Michael experience something good and not worry about our financial situation that he should not have to give a shit about. I will tell you this: there are few feelings as great as wind steering your bike down a huge hill while you listen to that one favorite song. 

The highlight of the trek was actually at the very beginning: Plunging into the woods on my 1950s cycle,   I was overwhelmed by the pungent smell of it all, and commented on it. Instead of agreeing, or not saying anything (*not uncommon for most pre-pubescent adolescents), Michael said, "It's life, Katie." 

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=gGYIWrZm5no

That was the most fun i've had without laughing

"Too casual and independent; doesn't do relationships." Gag me- that sounds like a bad e-harmony "before-i-was-single-and-it-was-horrible-and-now-i-met-this-person-online-and-now-look!-we're-smiling-and-laughing-in-a-commercial." Nnnnnnnnno. 

Ironically, it's hard for me to find the words for something that I've woven into so many posts. LO-VE. (And, don't worry, this is not me coming out of a "bloget" or anything, dear friend). For the better part of last year, I was consciously lonely (and alone). Now, it's not like that at all. Somewhere between getting some in '09 and getting some maturity in 2K10, I realized that settling is never the answer. 

So there's this guy who likes me. And it's one of those eyes locked, music taste synched, laugh at every funny/non-funny joke kind of thing. I wasn't sure if I liked him or not (alcohol was the third party member the times we had hung out). But then we went and saw Alice in Wonderland in 3D. I wasn't sure how the night would unfold.  The possibility of trying shrooms for (I think) the first time was not balancing on my relationship-tester scale. That night was supposed to be the "okay, we're not inebriated (for once), could this actually go anywhere?" Or, the painful "okay, we're not inebriated, do we actually have ANYTHING in common?!" No matter what, it's going to be awkward. Probably 97.6% of the time, that BudLightLoveyLove hiccups itself out- or purges itself, unmercifully, regrettably, out of your somber systems.

But there are those immortalizing times where you finally feel "something" with someone- and that something is everything. It's in the way you hear their holy laugh over everyone else's. How the imperishable mold of your committed hands in theirs is a work of art. How your heart runs marathons at night, drunk with thoughts of them.  And so you have to take that sober leap, no matter how excruciating that night and the English class you have together will be for the next 6 weeks. You have to, because if you don't, you die. 

i love phoenix. 

"Acres 

Visible horizon 

Right where it starts and ends 

When did we start the end? 

Acres 

Visible illusion 

Where it starts it ends 

Love like a sunset"

Half-Way Whole Goals

1. Guest-star on an episode of Law & Order: SVU and get it on with Elliot. 

2. Perform covers in a nostalgic coffee shop and tell everyone the name is Charlie Waltz.

3. Direct, write, and submit a film to Sundance.

4. Fall in love with someone who doesn't speak English and have them understand how you feel. 

5. Guest-star on any FoodNetwork show and fuck shit up.

6. Get a short story published in da New Yorker.

7. Have the balls to do what I want in my career. 

"All of me is waiting for you to touch the center of me with the center of you." 

Sense & Sensibility

How- how can you judge someone else's

happiness? 

-Bits from the work.

"Who were these people, anyways? Henry was loud, tending to yell over a crowd of inconnus he just generalized in his fiery haze as sure and steady fools he couldn’t give a shit about. At parties, girls grew on him like perennial moss. They didn’t ask questions, didn’t really even carry conversations. He was tall, and gave everyone the assumption that he was someone of importance. And who would yell across the house without a slight reason, unless they were someone of consequence?

It’s not like I had placed myself here. We were all standing around the counter, laughing, looking, leaning into each other’s warming egos. Mid-laugh I choke, and something in the dark of me comes crawling out and looks at the picture it sees in the stillborn hours of the morning. I am genuinely laughing, swallowing every part of them, but what do I actually think of them? Are they people I consider friends-- or am I not really friends with them but just like them as people? I’m talking to Kennedy- but- ah- what is wrong with-? the flow of our conversation is so unnatural and off- I just can’t- what!- I don’t even know what we're talking about. We both speak at the same time, turning different pages. And so I close my book and walk away."