Old beginnings and split ends

One day and fourteen hours and I'm bustin' on out of Mount Laurel. It's semi-sweet. Like the chocolate chips that I put in my homemade cookies. I'll savor it but I might drop some crumbs along the way. Why do I make such retarded comparisons? My departure for Fairleigh Dickinson University is much needed but I feel a different sort of connection to my home at this point in time. I've finally arranged my living quarters the way I want it to be. To the left to the left is an enormous mounted paper plate with it's gigantic potato chips from my eleventh grade art major assignment. Every where I turn, there are Kim drawings, paintings and posters that make my 'That 70's Color' yellow wall paint humble itself. I like this situation but I know that being back at Fairleigh, living partly on my own, will be once again a fantastic experience. Even if it's kinda hard for me to comprehend right now...

I saw Taking Woodstock last night with Jill, Jordan and Stina. It was a successful movie. I don't see myself ever growing out of the phase where I wish I spent three days in hippie splendor rolling around in mud or building human totem poles just to see Hendrix rip it or Joe Cocker convulse 'With A Little Help From My Friends.' The clothes in the movie were the shit and even though the film focused very little on the concert itself, and more on the process of assembling the festival, I was very pleased with the film. It was a super fantastic way to end the summer. Emile Hirsch and the hippie homefront <3

There isn't much else to say. I don't think I'll have time to sit down and do this tomorrow so that's why I'm doing it today. I have one more friend to say goodbye to tomorrow and then I'll be good. Last year, said friend (LEIGH-ANN!) spent a few hours on my couch with me late into the night before I left. We watched dumb youtube videos and hugged a lot. I don't think that'll happen this year since we already know that we're not leaving for good, just for a few months. AND WE HAVE SKYPE SO WE'RE DOING IT AT LEAST ONCE A WEEK! oooh la laaa :) Anywhoo, I'm pretty much packed save for my clothes being put into their orange and purple baskety thingys. But it's all set out on the table so all that needs to happen tomorrow is the folding and placing. And then I'll also have to get everything into the carSUVtruck. And Oma, my grandmama, is staying with us for the week. Rather, she's staying with Emily and my mom cause like I said, I'm scootin' in a day. She has been over generous with her checkbook and for that, HOLLA! :) She's cool too, cause she sways to Lil' Wayne when I make mixed cds and put them on in the carSUVtruck. Ladies is pimps, too. Go on and brush those shoulders off, Oma!

Things to look forward to for the first week of school:
-SEEING MY FRIENDS! HELL YESSSSS. There are a lot of people I've spoken to this summer but haven't seen in a long ass time. I'm glad I can see their bright bubbling faces again!
-Sam Party in her suite with the ladies ;) and then moving it over to Sam's castle to meet up with the boyzzz. God I'm excited. Sammy K. knows how to throw a shindig and I think I'm especially going to love this one!
-Development of Art II on Thursday. There will be better topics and hopefully a better professor. If for some reason that horrible woman haunts this art class, I'm switching majors to Accounting :/
-The cafe food.... Bahaha, just kidding. Only the Cap'n Crunch.

That's it, guys. Even though summer won't officially end until the autumnal equinox on September 22, the spirit of summer will be coming to a close for another year. Honestly, I couldn't have asked for a more secure summer. I had a good one, 2009. THANKS, BOO! :)

As the lightning bugs gradually burn out

There are only four more full days of summer left for me. This summer has been the longest I've ever experienced. May 15th to September 1st is a hell of a long time to be cut off from the learning process. Summer used to be my favorite time of year. It meant no more math or science classes and I could frequent the Larchmont Swim club as often as I wanted. All I'd have to do is walk next door and get Sarah and Ayah, and after a few years, Farris, and we'd be ready to walk half a mile to the pool. The summer was more than just no school and adequate pool, however. It was lightning bugs and rollerblades and carnival shows and soccer between our two houses and burning leaves with magnifying glasses and that crazy Mr. Softee jingle. It isn't really as special anymore but I don't think it'll ever lose it's magic.
ANYWHOO, I have four days left before I leave for school. Most of my friends from the Laurel bush have gone back to their respective colleges. Last night we bid Chrissy farewell, even though she's commuting to her Moore College of Art and Design in Fill-uh. We sipped Chai Tea lattes with a new friend outside of the Starbucks as the sun fell and the bugs came about. It's fun that she's not living on campus this year, but she'll still be 30 minutes away from us now that she moved :/ So all that's left to skeedaddle is Leigh-Ann, Jill and I. If you were curious about my packing skillz,...well I'm not very good at it. Some of the essentials I need to take with me (contact solution, shaving cream, q-tips) are chillin' on my dresser right now waiting for me to find a nice box to shove them in. They're going to have to wait a tad longer though cause I'm in the process of figuring out the clothes I would be willing to pack. I made a promise to myself a few days ago. I promised that I wouldn't bring as much shit as I had last year. I over compensated and it wasn't good. This year, I'll leave a lot home and if Mama T has to come bring me shit the next weekend, then that would make for a better situation. And good news, I organized all of my art supplies so now that's out of the way :)
In other news, I'm not bringing my television. Not right away at least. See, a few weeks ago I found out where I was living. I was placed in a suite with a roommate I've never met before but she lived in my building last year. I'm always open for new experiences and meeting new people. But I have no idea who the other 4 girls in the suite will be. They are unknown. EXCITING! Except I don't know if these girls plan on bringing stuff like a common room tv. Who knows, but I'm very much considering switching to the Maxey/Sam/Dana/Jess/Julie suite after two weeks like I had originally planned from the beginning. I'll see how it goes in this suite with new people. I like the idea that I have a room and I'm not going to have to pitch a tent under a tree.
It's the nicest weather right now. The windows are open and my swirly closet curtain is fluttering. It feels like it could be 75 degrees. I'm officially in love... with the weather. bahaha

RECAP!
-Number of times I watched Into the Wild this summer(not necessarily in its entirety): 23.
-Number of micron and sharpies to art with: 6.
-Number of beach trips: 3... fuck that. I'm not happy about it.
-Number of new bedrooms: 1.
-Collages created: 4.
-Hair in inches: I don't know, but it's getting longggg!
-Books read: 6.
-Days off from school: 109?
-Friends: Yup. I got 'em. And I love 'em!

I will write another entry before my departure on Tuesday morning. Until then, I'm going to be packing and singing/dancing/gyrating along to Girl Talk. buhhhbye.

<3 Thank you for being a friend.

Wet Hot American Summer

I can't sleep. I want to sleep, but right now there is a storm a-hatchin'. Actually, the storm's been hatched. It's in it's full on chicken stage now almost to the part where the bird runs around aimlessly without a head. Loud ass lightning and bright ass thunder. I like it but I kind of want to go to sleep without being jolted awake every twenty-eight seconds. Regardless, it's beautiful. The after shock makes my tiny red townhouse feel like it's going to rumble right on off of it's foundation and slide down the forty-five degree angle that is my driveway right on into the black river of pavement. Then it'll float to the stop sign at the end of the street before signaling left onto Larchmont Boulevard. All the while, the storm will continue to scramble around headless, screaming and painting the sky white with it's electric blood.

There was a farewell Jillparty/JessHock birthday party tonight. Dancing to oldies, newsies and in-betweensies. At one point, once the partaay stopped being wicked, we popped in Wet Hot American Summer and Stina couldn't stop laughing at Paul Rudd's jerkoff acting. She actually couldn't stop laughing at all, but that might not have been from the movie and it may have just been a lot of Mango Juice. My Shannon friend was there except she couldn't drink anything cause her face was swollen from that time she had her wisdom teeth taken out like two days ago. But she was still adorable and made cake with thick sprinkles and she took lots of pictures of me looking like a hot mess. I made a card for Jess that had a magazine cutout of a woman holding a 1st place ribboned pie that I stuck on top of a magazine cutout of a salty cracker. At the top of the card, I wrote "Jessica, I hope your birthday is a winner. Love, Kimberly" She really enjoyed the message and for that, I am glad. The main reason for the party though was because Kelsey and JessHock leave for their caledges on Sunday. That's tomorrow. In a little over twenty-four hours, two of my girls will be thrown back into their other lives. Where they read for pleasure, but more for assignment. Where they begin their second year of a higher education, leaving only two more full years before life. Besides Leigh-Ann cause her school starts in the middle of September, everyone including myself will be going back to school within the next two weeks. I'm excited but now I'm going to miss home! Remember that time I wanted to stay at school forever? I kind of like home right now BUT STILL I want to be surrounded by good people at FDU and I need to start learning again. I'm happy. But nervous.

The storm has died down. Maybe the chicken has bled out and that's why the storm stopped yelling. This is a prime opportunity to sleep. My stomach doesn't feel too hot right now, what with all these "see-ya" hugs and red Solo cups. I will head to bed :) but I will definitely write more before I quit summer.

"From the Road..."

I didn't think it was possible to have my mood change so drastically in only a matter of about 15 hours. Wednesday night was not anywhere near premium for me, especially since I chose to watch an HBO documentary a mother made about her 15 year old son's suicide. I decided to watch that instead of Shark Week. That was mistake number one. Mistake number two was sitting there for two hours to watch this documentary. It's just a bad idea in general to watch those types of programs because not only does it not have a happy ending, but the entire time I'm watching this vibrant boy turn his depression on and off, I'm comparing friends and over thinking way too much. So the result wasn't exactly great and after the show, the night was just a barrel of shitty shit. But then around 1 o'clock the next day, everything changed. Usually I don't receive a lot of mail. It's most often addressed to Rachael, but rarely ever Kimberly. But on Thursday, there was a bulky envelope, obviously containing something valuable, with my name tattooed in the center. However, the name in the upper left hand corner wasn't really a name that I'm familiar with. Andrew (last name not necessary). The postmark was dated August 4 from North Carolina. Even though I don't know this Andrew personally, I knew exactly what it was doing in the pile of mail.

Let me paint y'all a purty pitcher. Adam, newly graduated from Fairleigh, went on a summer road trip across America with a couple of his closest buddies. Prior to leaving school, he made this massive facebook group that detailed this trip and their planned whereabouts. Of fucking course I'm going to join because you know I'm in love with the idea of escaping. So Andrew sent out a message from the page saying that if anyone would be interested in getting a letter from the road, to send him our name and addresses and it's better if we don't know each other. PERFECT! cause that was exactly the kind of interaction I was looking for. Didn't know Andrew, barely know Adam, yet I was giving my address to him so I could be included if only through paper in this Great American Adventure. I kept my expectations at a minimum because I figured I would be last on the list for a letter, seeing as how friends and family would probably get a letter faster than some chick who doesn't even know these guys. Turns out, I was last on the list! Well when I opened the letter from Andrew, I found nine handwritten pages full of everything I would have ever wanted to hear. This letter, written from the kitchen table of a friend's apartment in the Outer Banks of North Carolina was created on day sixty-three. That was how long the trip was going to last but now it'll be a little longer. I'm the letter that was written on "the last day." (Except not really cause there will be another one to a friend on the way home. But still)

I only know Andrew through this letter and what I've been reading on their sporadic blog. I know that he is a beautiful writer and I know that drawing comparisons to Kerouac is very acceptable. I was actually thinking that Andrew might possibly be Kerouac's reincarnated soul and this letter that I received was just an extension from On the Road. Sure, it's 50 years late, but it's always possible! As beautiful as Andrew's bloated letter is, and as much as it deserves to be shared with the world, I kinda would rather focus on the point behind the letter and what I got out of it. Besides the mesmerizing detail of their trip from the previous four days, this letter confirms my prior thought that humans are an incredible reason to live and interact and squish and love and lalala and everything and anything else. Even though it's really only ma bi'ness, the letter allowed for raw, real, gentle and awesome emotions. I can't express how happy I am. When I think about him writing this letter, never having said a word to me but still feeling the urge to write what he did and how he did, I am amazed. He ran out of notebook paper, so he wrote on the back of Google Map directions. And when he ran out of that, he wrote on paper with cocker spaniels. Just thinking of that makes me smile because some might consider writing a shortened version of whatever he or she felt like saying when it has been determined that the paper supply is dwindling. Yet Andrew wrote on old directions and then narrow, grocery list paper just so he could finish his thoughts. He wasn't going to let his story go untold because of a silly thing like no paper. How fucking beautiful. This is exactly what I've been looking for. The unexpected interaction with the unexpected feel good content and smiling. I wrote him a thank you/introductory letter. I've never met someone through a letter before, but my hope is that he finds what I said and returns with more insight into his own character. Maybe on their way back from Colorado (surprise adventure trip), South Jersey or Philadelphia will be included in the journey, cause I'm totes down for meeting Andrew in person! I am absolutely in love with this letter and strangers and ideas and of course, adventure. This was the best turn around. But I'm still going to wonder, Andrew, why was I the last letter? He said he remembers flipping through the addresses and having his finger fall onto my name sixty-three days prior to writing the letter as he sat in the backseat of the car. But why me?... Why was I so special? Even if I never find out, I'll always love that this happened.

I'm going to pull a Miranda July. Along with this in depth, life questioning stuffs, I am really curious who reads my blog. I have four people who 'follow' me but I know them all (cept one). But that totally doesn't mean that lots of others haven't discovered me and use me as therapy for a bad day at work. Or when they need to take their life, compare it to mine and determine that things ain't so shitty for themselves and hopefully it's not the other way around. I just wanna know if only a few of my friends are checkin' this out or if lotz of strangers are reading this as well. After the letter from Andrew with all of his incredible thoughts and personal connections and gah!, I don't think it's that far fetched to figure this out. So I think it would be really awesome if you would leave a comment or email me at knt52990@yahoo.com and just say "Taste the Rainbow." And that's all you have to say. Cause when you do, I'll immediately know that I'm not just addressing my close friends (Sandra, You don't have to comment. bahaha!) but I'm addressing those I have yet to meet. If you want, it can be anonymous, but it doesn't have to be. Either way, it'll be comforting to know that strangers are connected to me.

I'm happy and excited that people are good.

Airport Road

Why is it that I feel everyday has to include rain? I look at the weather channel and the only two things I'm concerned about are what time the sun will rise and if rain is in the forecast. If a storm is making it's way through South Jerz, I can anticipate a royal day for myself. On Sunday, I thought fo' sho' a tornado was erupting. One minute the sky was light gray with the hint of a drizzle and the next, black and blue contused clouds were moving on in. But behind the busted clouds, there was this bizarre backdrop. It was the color of tropical waters, the submerged plant life sending waves of green pigment to the calm, blue surface. When I was younger, I heard that when a tornado threatened to rip through the earth, the sky would turn an intense shade of green. I wonder if my luminous sky had been preparing for anything besides opening it's squeaky hinges to let the rain wash away the bird poop from the windshields.

I think I'm trying to match the weather with me. Normally, I don't give a shit about matching (we're talkin' clothes here, homes) but in this case, I think I want the outside world to identify with my inside world. It's not that I'm sad or depressed or lonely or damp. It's just overbearing sunshiney goodness isn't exactly how I'm feeling right now. I'm tuckered out. How's that term for ya? I was trying to find the oldest sounding synonym for tired and I think I did. Only with the help of Laura Ingalls Wilder, of course! Now when I say tired (tuckered out) I don't mean sleepy. Just fed up with being left out in the cold. Even though it's summer and the temperature never dips below 70 degrees, I'm still being forgotten. The biggest problem?... I don't know how to tell you that I am a god damn good listener. I wanna know about your day, about your life, your experiences. But until you realize that I have two perfectly good ears, a functioning brain and a heart with an abundance of room, there ain't no way to crack your crunchy outer coating. And this shit will just keep eating away at me. Which pisses me off. Do you know I'm trying to listen or are you intentionally keeping our chats to "I'm good, and you?" Open up. Let the rain pour out of your squeaky hinges. Wash me away like bird poop. ..... too far?.... :/ Not even sure if he reads my words. I hope he does.

Last night, Stina, Popie, Sam and I decided at 8:30 to drive more than an hour to Seaside and sit on tablecloths in the sand. On our way down the long, winding roads we belted out every song you can think of. Mixtures of Queen, Guns & Roses, Celine, Snoop, Hanson and so many more. It was so beautiful. All in all, we spent about 2.5 hours just singing/screaming with the windows open and the moonlight shining in the car windows. But the beach. It was probably the best idea we could have had last night in the midst of our boredom. It was spontaneity to the max and a bitchin' time. We layed with our bellies to the moon all like little kids and made animals out of wispy cloud formations. We connected the three stars we could see in the sky only because the other 4 billion were being drowned by boardwalk light pollution. We dipped our feet in the ocean water and found out that the sand was extra soggy. I didn't even take three steps once I reached the foaming sea before the sand swallowed my legs and the water reached halfway up my thigh. I don't care if it reached up to my neck, I was enjoying myself thoroughly. This is the kind of summer adventure I want to surround myself with. Yes.