I can't decide if I'm cold or freezing. I also can't unravel as to why my face won't stop sneezing. Is it allergies or am I coming down with some silly case of the sick? One minute I feel peachy and pretty content with being blanketed by my skin. The next minute, I'm considering if my quilted epidermis has developed some holes that I wasn't aware of, letting in a frigid breeze. I'd be glad to patch up any mishaps, but I just can't seem to locate them. I'm uncomfortable to say the least. Thinking of June 4, I expect to be clad in thin cotton shorts and an airy tee as I prepare for sleep, not my sagging winter pants and a rounded long sleeve shirt. Who am I kidding? It's about to be summer...I need to get over this sniffly goop and get back into my June frame of mind.
Last Monday, I became a productive part of my own personal society. I applied for jobs. Only two in real life and half of one over the interwebs. I took my time gazing through the mall in search of places I felt would best suit my needs. Out of probably about 50 stores, I only felt two would suffice. I don't care what you or anyone else has to say, but I can't find it in me to throw down with the old folks who shop at Boscovs. And I definitely can't wear a fake referee shirt and fit people's feet all day for the right size shoe at one of the Foot Lockers. Hell noooo...a girl's gotta have standards, right? Prior to my application process, however, I browsed in some of the stores in hopes to find some new attire that would provide adequate relief in the blistering summer months. (apparently I don't need anything summery at this moment in time...dumb goosebumps and head clog!) The browsing helped ease the tension of the scary job hunting. I'm a newcomer in a lot of ways, especially when it comes to making the money. I'm pretty damn good at saving my cash $ so it wasn't too much of an issue before. I never felt it was necessary to have a job. I didn't really need the things other kids had (i.e. a car or a life). Now that I'm a big time college student, with big time loans, it's probably best to be making some sort of dough. Plus, I never really intended to make a life long career out of standing on the street corner. It was more of an after school hobby.
So applications went through to Bath & Body Works and Barnes & Noble. *Note to self: Don't limit yourself to only jobs with an "&" symbol in their name* I got halfway done with FYE, which had an online application, but then I stopped temporarily until I decide who my professional references can be. Hey, do you wanna be a professional reference for me?! So basically, out of the jobs I've applied to/sort of applied to, I've got some pretty sweet ass times ahead of me if I'm hired to one of the three. I could either be a scented chick who tries to sell you loads of lotions, the crazy chick with the knowledge and good looks (bahahahaha! I meant good books!) or I could be the sassy ass chick who can provide directions to the newest release in heavy metal music. I hope I get a job. It kind of sucks that I have no prior work experience though. Not only did it make for a pretty thin application but people might think I'm lazy cause I haven't ever had a job. I'm not, though. Maybe a little. And I've already heard from some friends and zee Mudder that it shouldn't matter if I don't have prior work experience cause my charming ways and personality should win the employers over. Hmmm...true. But it wasn't that easy to dish out full frontal Kim and make a bitchin' first impression when close to the only words spoken were "What is the process for applying at fill-in-the-blank store?" and "Thank you". It'll be better if I get an interview. Keep yo' fingers crossed!
When I was done applying/becoming sucked into a world that works for money instead of pleasure, I took a stroll to a patch of grass outside of the book store. It was sandwiched in between a parking lot and a busy road. I just sat there. At one point, I layed down. Why not, right? A year ago, if I had been in the same position on that same spot, I highly doubt I would have found comfort in the prickly grass and yellow dandelions. But I honestly felt no shame in maneuvering in between passing cars to plop myself down and just look up. Maybe people were looking at me. Maybe they were too concentrated on rushing home to grab a bite before it was time to return to the routine of working for money as well. Either way, I felt good.
Additions to my room (post 1930's kitchen desk):
- A beautiful sunburst pattern batik cloth that is nailed to the frame where my closet door used to be. The "door" almost has a tie dye feel to it. There are amazing greens, blues and yellows in it but the main color is the exact purple that contradicts the yellow of my walls perfectly.
- An assigned painting on primed, ripped kraft paper of a chair that I did first semester. Now when I say a chair, I really mean a close up of a bundle of winter trees with their boney limbs. The painting holds a great deal of significance because my professor had asked us to paint a chair on paper about six feet tall. I was the only one to not paint a portrait of my desk chair or a bar stool. Instead I chose to portray a tree, which as you know, does indeed act as a chair and for this I received a thorough pat on the back. Birds and squirrels choose to sit on a tree's branches. During a game of hide and seek, young children might climb 15 feet off the ground and sit on a dense branch hoping the seeker won't look up. Hell, you could cut down the wooden subject of my black and white painting and mold it into a normal chair that is fit to go under the cut out of a desk. It is different and it has a good message behind it. Think outside of the box.
- Insignificant drawings of pancakes, mountain ranges, parakeets from Detroit and a free vacuum courtesy of Oprah once she dies.
Sufjan Stevens. Paradise and Ypsilanti.
Thursday, June 4, 2009
Thursday, May 28, 2009
Dootsie Pringle says we're all just human beans
“We were once so fresh, a dazzling snowfield. Let’s promise to each other that if we ever meet again we will never plow and push our new-fallen snow. We will not become slush. We will stay like this field and melt away together only in the sun’s good time.” - Stargirl
It's true. Star people are rare. Reading Love, Stargirl was probably the best decision I could have made coming into summer. About five years ago (wow) I read Jerry Spinelli's Stargirl, not expecting any major feelings to come out of it. And to be honest, the thoughts of that non conformist girl who was unhappy with her blah name really didn't have an impact on my way of life. When I was in eighth grade, I thought it was great that the main character was cool enough to change her name unofficially and set up her own personal picnic area during each separate class. But it didn't really hit me until probably last year when I revisited the idea of Spinelli's fictional Star person. I am so relieved that I am not just like you, or you, or even you. I am me. (really, kim?) I am so happy that I don't own designer labels just to be like other girls. And I'm happy that I am creative enough to think of my own ideas. For cereal. This sequel book is so incredibly inspiring. I read it in a matter of only a couple of days. I've never done that with a book before considering how slow I read and how I feel it is necessary to digest almost every word on a page. But this book was slightly different and written so well. In a series of letters to Leo, Stargirl wrote for the duration of a year to the boy she fell in love with. She talked about her five year old best friend, Dootsie, who went as a square waffle for Halloween and won best costume in the "festibal'. Stargirl spoke of a possible new fling with Perry, the poor thief with piercing blues and a mysterious presence. For months, Stargirl's main goal was to create real time using spatulas and the sun in preparation for the Solstice to cast a tiny beam of light.
At one point, Stargirl was given some great advice from Betty Lou. She was told that "today is calling to you, trying to get your attention, but you’re stuck on tomorrow, and today trickles away like water down a drain. You wake up the next morning and that today you wasted is gone forever." If that advice doesn't apply to me 104%, then I don't know what advice does! God damn, I should really take these words and run. Run 2 hours north. I need to just go, right Betty Lou? Because if I keep considering what tomorrow might hold, I'm going to spend all my time not focusing on what today could hold. It's just that every time I think about possibly doing (I'm Hamlet, remember?) something that will kick this situation into high gear, I think about what might go wrong instead. It's the opposite of what I want. But similar to the agoraphobic Betty Lou, I'm also slightly afraid of an unfamiliar environment. I've become comfortable in this safe place of mine because it's basically all I know. So venturing out into back alleys, places I've never been before will just send me into a fit of squeals (and twist waving). Fortunately, Betty Lou took her own advice and left her house after nine long years of seclusion, so I have faith that I will grow a set very soon and spill my beans. That sounds nasty but it's not. Plus, it's very possible that he could be my Leo. My star boy :)
I wish there was a third installment of Stargirl. I'm not done reading about her eccentricities. I'm not done comparing her actions to things that I've done, or would do as well. A lot of people I run into who have read this book say how amazing it is. It's true..it's pretty damn fancy. I think as a result of this, I'm going to start a happy wagon where I put pebbles in it (I'll try not to take any out) when I'm super happy. Amen to being unique. Keep it up! here here. cheers. shalom!
IN 12 HOURS FROM NOW (8:05 a.m.) I WILL BE A NINETEEN YEAR OLD FRUIT LOOP!
It's true. Star people are rare. Reading Love, Stargirl was probably the best decision I could have made coming into summer. About five years ago (wow) I read Jerry Spinelli's Stargirl, not expecting any major feelings to come out of it. And to be honest, the thoughts of that non conformist girl who was unhappy with her blah name really didn't have an impact on my way of life. When I was in eighth grade, I thought it was great that the main character was cool enough to change her name unofficially and set up her own personal picnic area during each separate class. But it didn't really hit me until probably last year when I revisited the idea of Spinelli's fictional Star person. I am so relieved that I am not just like you, or you, or even you. I am me. (really, kim?) I am so happy that I don't own designer labels just to be like other girls. And I'm happy that I am creative enough to think of my own ideas. For cereal. This sequel book is so incredibly inspiring. I read it in a matter of only a couple of days. I've never done that with a book before considering how slow I read and how I feel it is necessary to digest almost every word on a page. But this book was slightly different and written so well. In a series of letters to Leo, Stargirl wrote for the duration of a year to the boy she fell in love with. She talked about her five year old best friend, Dootsie, who went as a square waffle for Halloween and won best costume in the "festibal'. Stargirl spoke of a possible new fling with Perry, the poor thief with piercing blues and a mysterious presence. For months, Stargirl's main goal was to create real time using spatulas and the sun in preparation for the Solstice to cast a tiny beam of light.
At one point, Stargirl was given some great advice from Betty Lou. She was told that "today is calling to you, trying to get your attention, but you’re stuck on tomorrow, and today trickles away like water down a drain. You wake up the next morning and that today you wasted is gone forever." If that advice doesn't apply to me 104%, then I don't know what advice does! God damn, I should really take these words and run. Run 2 hours north. I need to just go, right Betty Lou? Because if I keep considering what tomorrow might hold, I'm going to spend all my time not focusing on what today could hold. It's just that every time I think about possibly doing (I'm Hamlet, remember?) something that will kick this situation into high gear, I think about what might go wrong instead. It's the opposite of what I want. But similar to the agoraphobic Betty Lou, I'm also slightly afraid of an unfamiliar environment. I've become comfortable in this safe place of mine because it's basically all I know. So venturing out into back alleys, places I've never been before will just send me into a fit of squeals (and twist waving). Fortunately, Betty Lou took her own advice and left her house after nine long years of seclusion, so I have faith that I will grow a set very soon and spill my beans. That sounds nasty but it's not. Plus, it's very possible that he could be my Leo. My star boy :)
I wish there was a third installment of Stargirl. I'm not done reading about her eccentricities. I'm not done comparing her actions to things that I've done, or would do as well. A lot of people I run into who have read this book say how amazing it is. It's true..it's pretty damn fancy. I think as a result of this, I'm going to start a happy wagon where I put pebbles in it (I'll try not to take any out) when I'm super happy. Amen to being unique. Keep it up! here here. cheers. shalom!
IN 12 HOURS FROM NOW (8:05 a.m.) I WILL BE A NINETEEN YEAR OLD FRUIT LOOP!
Sunday, May 24, 2009
Nineteen clementines on a banana boat
There is something incredibly romantic about the smell of cigarette smoke. Not necessarily in the sense that it's a sexy scent, cause I don't really know if I believe that. I think the fact that it's smoke counteracts that erotic quality. But I guess it could be a sexy scent, perhaps if it was in the form of a precious memory. Maybe you met your one true love outside on a break from work. You wanted some fresh air and he needed to feed his addiction. So now every time someone lights up, you can't help but to think of the way his caramel colored eyes shine. Unless you're too fixed on the fact that you could be allowing cancer causing agents to squeeze their way into your body, that you don't even remember how you and oh-what's-his-face met. Either way, for me, I find being around those who smoke to be extremely comforting. When I was young, I felt that people who smoked had a certain maturity to them. I don't necessarily think that anymore, but when I was 8 years old and my much older cousin would come to visit, I thought it was "cool" when she went out back to light a cigarette. It gave me an opportunity to grow up, be an adult, if only for a little while and be completely comfortable while doing so. Now when I sit outside of a freshman dorm or around a patio swing at a birthday party with my head in a cloud of smoke, the feeling of being a comfortable adult returns.
Last night was the birthday party for me. One word to describe the entire situation: soggy. Before I explain that, I'll explain the fun leading up to it as well as after it. After a long awaited reunion (one week is a long time to not see the faces of people you barely went 3 hours without seeing) I was bombarded with giant bear hugs, loud growling "ooohhh i missed you" greetings, and sloppy head kisses. I was happy to be in the company of my close friendly friends. But it didn't take long before an adventure was able to ensue. Sandra and I met Dora the wacky explorer's little brahh. Or something. We were just minding our business at the park, updating each other on life and all of a sudden a little voice peeps over top of the jungle gym. "Hi. Do you wanna explore with me?" How could I say no to a 5 year old adventurer? He brought me down to the edge of this perfect stream equipped with slippery river rocks and fallen leaves. He told me about the time he found this huge fish, longer than his arm, under that rock over there. Ohhh and then there was the time he encountered the alligator right over there...ya know, next to that rock. When it was brought to my attention that poison ivy was a possibility, Javier the Explorer showed me an alternative route but reassured me that it was okay if he got poison ivy 'cause he's already got eczema so it's not going to itch any more than it already does. :) After that, Sandra and I walked back to Sam's house in fear for our lives. I guess it's a bad idea to walk through the ghetto with your "ladies" showing off?
The fun started after Aaron and Samanthantha returned with beverages. There were loads of fun games played. Sandra and I being on team Boo + Boo (clever, I know). Lemme just say that she and I are incredibly intimidating when it comes to pong and the reason we didn't get the majority of the balls in is because we didn't want to scare anyone away with how good we truly are. About the whole soggy situation...yeah. Well I thought it was bad when clumsy Sandra spilt a bit of mango juice on my pretty dress. But I didn't wanna make a big deal about it. It's just a little spilt juice...who cares? DAMP. Not even 12 minutes later, I'm holding a pretty full beverage when Maxey one ups Sandra on the clumsy ladder. One minute my cup is full, the next it's half empty (I'm not being pessimistic). Maxey's hand whacked the cup straight onto my boobs spilling mango and other goodness all down the front of my dress and into my cleavage. SOGGY. The next account of soggy happened after Boo + Boo's laughing fit on the ground took place. Taking a large gulp of lime beeeeeeeer and me bumping into Sandra does not mix well. She couldn't hold it in after I ever so gracefully collided with her, thus spewing beer all over me! SOGGY. As gross as it was to have Sandra's mouth beer and the mango lovin' on my boobs, face and dress, it didn't bother me that much. I had way too much fun to even care. The dancing in the basement was premium, as well, even though it was a one man show on my part. I didn't so much enjoy the latter part of the partaaay when my eyes got heavy and so did my heart. But that's irrelevant considering the rest of it was bitchin'. I cannot wait to do it again. Samantha, I love you with so much umpf! and bizam! it's crazy.
Ishaq, I said I would give you a shout out. So hurr ya go, fool. Shouttttttt! You're creepy. But thanks for being funny :)
Plans for the next two weeks:
-Go to another party. Kimmah's a silly girl...
-Reunite again with friends! yesss please. I want to see you. Yes. YOU. let's hang out :3
-Grow a garden?
-Turn another year older
Last night was the birthday party for me. One word to describe the entire situation: soggy. Before I explain that, I'll explain the fun leading up to it as well as after it. After a long awaited reunion (one week is a long time to not see the faces of people you barely went 3 hours without seeing) I was bombarded with giant bear hugs, loud growling "ooohhh i missed you" greetings, and sloppy head kisses. I was happy to be in the company of my close friendly friends. But it didn't take long before an adventure was able to ensue. Sandra and I met Dora the wacky explorer's little brahh. Or something. We were just minding our business at the park, updating each other on life and all of a sudden a little voice peeps over top of the jungle gym. "Hi. Do you wanna explore with me?" How could I say no to a 5 year old adventurer? He brought me down to the edge of this perfect stream equipped with slippery river rocks and fallen leaves. He told me about the time he found this huge fish, longer than his arm, under that rock over there. Ohhh and then there was the time he encountered the alligator right over there...ya know, next to that rock. When it was brought to my attention that poison ivy was a possibility, Javier the Explorer showed me an alternative route but reassured me that it was okay if he got poison ivy 'cause he's already got eczema so it's not going to itch any more than it already does. :) After that, Sandra and I walked back to Sam's house in fear for our lives. I guess it's a bad idea to walk through the ghetto with your "ladies" showing off?
The fun started after Aaron and Samanthantha returned with beverages. There were loads of fun games played. Sandra and I being on team Boo + Boo (clever, I know). Lemme just say that she and I are incredibly intimidating when it comes to pong and the reason we didn't get the majority of the balls in is because we didn't want to scare anyone away with how good we truly are. About the whole soggy situation...yeah. Well I thought it was bad when clumsy Sandra spilt a bit of mango juice on my pretty dress. But I didn't wanna make a big deal about it. It's just a little spilt juice...who cares? DAMP. Not even 12 minutes later, I'm holding a pretty full beverage when Maxey one ups Sandra on the clumsy ladder. One minute my cup is full, the next it's half empty (I'm not being pessimistic). Maxey's hand whacked the cup straight onto my boobs spilling mango and other goodness all down the front of my dress and into my cleavage. SOGGY. The next account of soggy happened after Boo + Boo's laughing fit on the ground took place. Taking a large gulp of lime beeeeeeeer and me bumping into Sandra does not mix well. She couldn't hold it in after I ever so gracefully collided with her, thus spewing beer all over me! SOGGY. As gross as it was to have Sandra's mouth beer and the mango lovin' on my boobs, face and dress, it didn't bother me that much. I had way too much fun to even care. The dancing in the basement was premium, as well, even though it was a one man show on my part. I didn't so much enjoy the latter part of the partaaay when my eyes got heavy and so did my heart. But that's irrelevant considering the rest of it was bitchin'. I cannot wait to do it again. Samantha, I love you with so much umpf! and bizam! it's crazy.
Ishaq, I said I would give you a shout out. So hurr ya go, fool. Shouttttttt! You're creepy. But thanks for being funny :)
Plans for the next two weeks:
-Go to another party. Kimmah's a silly girl...
-Reunite again with friends! yesss please. I want to see you. Yes. YOU. let's hang out :3
-Grow a garden?
-Turn another year older
Sunday, May 17, 2009
An emerald among a pile of diamonds
There is nothing more rewarding than antique shopping. Well, there are some things that are pretty damn satisfying, like building a tree house in that huge Oak in your neighborhood or suddenly realizing that you need to get off at exit 5 on the NJ Turnpike before it's too late. However, when one takes the day off to browse around and possibly purchase vintage life, it becomes hard to think of anything more worthwhile to do with your time. This morning, it was decided between Mama Trems, Sister and I to scope out antique furniture for my room. Since I've been home, I've done a bit of redecorating in the form of freeing my room from the hideous corner piece that I've had since I was about 7. I was always in love with it and refused to update my existence because I felt it was a part of me. And it's true, that corner bookshelf was a part of me especially because it had seen about 23 different coats of my favorite color paints spanning from under-the-sea turquoise to lilac to bright red with an orange undertone. I didn't get rid of it because honestly, I knew nothing better existed. After 12 years, I've realized that it's ok to grow up a little...(I won't mention how I have an attic full of stuffed animals :/ bahaha)
So this morning, we set out to find Kimmah some type of new desk or shelf or bookcase or something of the sort. I need some place to stick my laptop and my books, cause I've got a plethora of reading materials. We went to this beautiful shop on Main Street in Medford. Three floors chock full of life. I would glance through old comic books and then flip through racks of flapper inspired dresses. I saw homemade throw blankets with ugly orange embroidery neatly jumbled on top of an old sewing machine and table. I enjoyed the smell the most. It's the smell of worn out leather mixed with a little excitement lightly seasoned with salt. Walking through the old renovated house with secret stairwells and closets that reach the puffy clouds, you can just imagine life way back when. After no luck at Medford's antique shop (everything was either out of my price range or too fancy for my room) we travelled on down to the city of Burlington to a place called Emporium. Holy Moses, this place was incredible. You walk in the store and immediately, you are greeted by a Goodyear Tire sign that was probably from the 1950's. They had individual compartments that they rent to people who want to sell their "goods" so the three of us had a massive task that lay ahead of us if we wanted to glance through everything. Well we pretty much beasted the Emporium with our furniture finding strategies and we were 100% successful. You wanna hear about the new addition to my room?...well let me tell you. It's not a desk. It's a Depression era (1930's!!! WOOHOO) small kitchen table that was probably used for rolling out dough or setting up a wash station. It is incredible. The table top is porcelain enamel. It has a beautiful azure blue border that fades into the off white top but what makes this "desk" so special are the four raised roses that fall at each corner. There is a single drawer that I'm sure held a whisk or family recipes for oatmeal cookies, but will now hold my paper clips and notebook drawings. The legs of this table are solid wood that have been painted an off white color. There are paint chips missing off of the legs that reveal wood and parts of the enamel are rusting and wearing away. I cannot believe I found such a good buy. For $70, I purchased an entire life. Who's to say that my new desk wasn't once the center piece of a family. Picture this: it's the middle of a hot summer day in Oklahoma. 1935. A mother is rolling out dough for biscuits to accompany the beef stew on this table. The flour that was sprinkled down to stop the dough from sticking gets in every nook and cranny of the raised pink and green roses that keep the four corners occupied. There are children outside playing with marbles on the dry earth while their father waits patiently for any sign of rain to fall from the unforgiving sky. As everyone goes about their business, huge clouds of dirt move through the flat plains raining down on a man's only way to earn a buck. Forced to go inside and find relief from the blackened skies, the children must gather around their mother, eyes closed with their noses buried in her cotton apron, while she too is huddling except instead she is above this table in hopes that the dust will not disappoint dinner's sidekick.
When I brought this table into my room to set against my wall, I cleaned the top with soap and water, but made sure not to scrub too hard. Who's to say when I wiped the dirt off, I wasn't wiping off years of that family as well. If I look hard enough, I think I can see some flour caked into the grooves of the roses.
In the beginning of this post, I mentioned how there was nothing more rewarding than antique shopping. I still believe it. It is one hell of a way to connect yourself to the past. Run your hand over a baby blanket and imagine how warm it kept an infant when the heat from the fireplace just wasn't enough. Hold a postcard in your hand that has been signed and dated, and read what it says. You will instantly feel like you're right there with "Buddy" at Niagara Falls when he tells "Dotty" that he'll be seeing her back in Sacramento in a few months. Look up at the painting of a vase of daffodils and try to picture it in the parlor of a Victorian style home. Was it above the china tea set or did it grace the walls next to the grand piano? The result of imagining life eighty years ago is so satisfying in the realm of your own existence. I know that there is a story behind this table, and now I can make my own story. I am so inspired to create my own memories with everything I own, but I'm more excited to know that others will be imagining down the road. Hopefully this kitchen table turned desk serves a completely different purpose in a century for some girl and her family. And hopefully she can imagine the stories about this blue and white, flower printed, rusting table prior to her own tale.
Can you see my table? I can.
So this morning, we set out to find Kimmah some type of new desk or shelf or bookcase or something of the sort. I need some place to stick my laptop and my books, cause I've got a plethora of reading materials. We went to this beautiful shop on Main Street in Medford. Three floors chock full of life. I would glance through old comic books and then flip through racks of flapper inspired dresses. I saw homemade throw blankets with ugly orange embroidery neatly jumbled on top of an old sewing machine and table. I enjoyed the smell the most. It's the smell of worn out leather mixed with a little excitement lightly seasoned with salt. Walking through the old renovated house with secret stairwells and closets that reach the puffy clouds, you can just imagine life way back when. After no luck at Medford's antique shop (everything was either out of my price range or too fancy for my room) we travelled on down to the city of Burlington to a place called Emporium. Holy Moses, this place was incredible. You walk in the store and immediately, you are greeted by a Goodyear Tire sign that was probably from the 1950's. They had individual compartments that they rent to people who want to sell their "goods" so the three of us had a massive task that lay ahead of us if we wanted to glance through everything. Well we pretty much beasted the Emporium with our furniture finding strategies and we were 100% successful. You wanna hear about the new addition to my room?...well let me tell you. It's not a desk. It's a Depression era (1930's!!! WOOHOO) small kitchen table that was probably used for rolling out dough or setting up a wash station. It is incredible. The table top is porcelain enamel. It has a beautiful azure blue border that fades into the off white top but what makes this "desk" so special are the four raised roses that fall at each corner. There is a single drawer that I'm sure held a whisk or family recipes for oatmeal cookies, but will now hold my paper clips and notebook drawings. The legs of this table are solid wood that have been painted an off white color. There are paint chips missing off of the legs that reveal wood and parts of the enamel are rusting and wearing away. I cannot believe I found such a good buy. For $70, I purchased an entire life. Who's to say that my new desk wasn't once the center piece of a family. Picture this: it's the middle of a hot summer day in Oklahoma. 1935. A mother is rolling out dough for biscuits to accompany the beef stew on this table. The flour that was sprinkled down to stop the dough from sticking gets in every nook and cranny of the raised pink and green roses that keep the four corners occupied. There are children outside playing with marbles on the dry earth while their father waits patiently for any sign of rain to fall from the unforgiving sky. As everyone goes about their business, huge clouds of dirt move through the flat plains raining down on a man's only way to earn a buck. Forced to go inside and find relief from the blackened skies, the children must gather around their mother, eyes closed with their noses buried in her cotton apron, while she too is huddling except instead she is above this table in hopes that the dust will not disappoint dinner's sidekick.
When I brought this table into my room to set against my wall, I cleaned the top with soap and water, but made sure not to scrub too hard. Who's to say when I wiped the dirt off, I wasn't wiping off years of that family as well. If I look hard enough, I think I can see some flour caked into the grooves of the roses.
In the beginning of this post, I mentioned how there was nothing more rewarding than antique shopping. I still believe it. It is one hell of a way to connect yourself to the past. Run your hand over a baby blanket and imagine how warm it kept an infant when the heat from the fireplace just wasn't enough. Hold a postcard in your hand that has been signed and dated, and read what it says. You will instantly feel like you're right there with "Buddy" at Niagara Falls when he tells "Dotty" that he'll be seeing her back in Sacramento in a few months. Look up at the painting of a vase of daffodils and try to picture it in the parlor of a Victorian style home. Was it above the china tea set or did it grace the walls next to the grand piano? The result of imagining life eighty years ago is so satisfying in the realm of your own existence. I know that there is a story behind this table, and now I can make my own story. I am so inspired to create my own memories with everything I own, but I'm more excited to know that others will be imagining down the road. Hopefully this kitchen table turned desk serves a completely different purpose in a century for some girl and her family. And hopefully she can imagine the stories about this blue and white, flower printed, rusting table prior to her own tale.
Can you see my table? I can.
Friday, May 15, 2009
Let's say hi instead of bye!
So, I'm officially a sophomore in college now. How weird is that? I remember the first time I was able to refer to myself as a "sophomore" when I was in high school. I don't really like that term. There isn't anything successful about the word. All it's saying is you aren't the little baby anymore, but you still have a while before you will actually be able to say that you have accomplished anything in its entirety. I guess it's cool that the incoming students will look up to me (naturally..bahahaha!) but it's not all that special. It's progress though. So that counts, I guess.
Here's a fun fact: I don't like to say goodbye to people. Last night and this morning were incredibly difficult for me to get through. Every time I would see someone who was special to me in some way, I couldn't really find it in myself to split. I spent an incredibly long time in the RA booth keeping Brandon company, even though I don't know how much I was welcomed. I'm sure I was appreciated though, cause I bought a buttload of food and shared it with multiple people. There were long, drawn out hugs and gentle words last night that I really appreciated. So much that when I returned back to my room during the early morning hours, I began to get a bit soggy. The tears didn't really start until after Roomie left to go continue her drunk fun. Then I became extremely melancholy and judgemental toward myself. Which leads me to my next point, I am disappointed in my lack of action(s). If I had to compare myself to any one literary character, it would have to be Hamlet. "To be or not to be?" I have such a horrible time with making moves, so much that I completely freeze up and ruin golden opportunities. I can't tell at this moment, but I might have let a premium situation slip away because I have such a friggin' hard time telling this guy how I feel. Now there are many miles in between us as well as many days, hours, and seconds. Why is it that just when I'm getting more comfortable, a 3 month long gap has to occur?
My room has been slightly rearranged. New additions to my room include this gorgeous dresser that was given to my mom. It's a beautiful shade of dull, vintage blue that works perfectly with my obnoxious yellow walls. I also put my dorm sheets and covers on my bed at home, which makes me feel a bit happier cause I feel like I'm right back at school. I'm laying on my bologna and cheese sandwich pillow sculpture that I made in 11th grade. It's comfortable but every time I shift positions, the lettuce made with newspaper crinkles and startles the cat. hahaha!
I think it's time I introduced you. Everyone, this is Danielle. She is one of the most incredible youtubers in the entire world. Her music is pure bliss and she is hilarious. This was the first video I ever watched of her and after about 56 replays, I learned the words to this song. It's called 'Ode to Optophobia'. Not only is Danielle Ate the Sandwich clever, but she is super talented. also...you should subscribe cause every video she makes is full of wit and humor as well as insightful, homemade lyrics. DANIELLE ATE THE SANDWICH :)
Here's a fun fact: I don't like to say goodbye to people. Last night and this morning were incredibly difficult for me to get through. Every time I would see someone who was special to me in some way, I couldn't really find it in myself to split. I spent an incredibly long time in the RA booth keeping Brandon company, even though I don't know how much I was welcomed. I'm sure I was appreciated though, cause I bought a buttload of food and shared it with multiple people. There were long, drawn out hugs and gentle words last night that I really appreciated. So much that when I returned back to my room during the early morning hours, I began to get a bit soggy. The tears didn't really start until after Roomie left to go continue her drunk fun. Then I became extremely melancholy and judgemental toward myself. Which leads me to my next point, I am disappointed in my lack of action(s). If I had to compare myself to any one literary character, it would have to be Hamlet. "To be or not to be?" I have such a horrible time with making moves, so much that I completely freeze up and ruin golden opportunities. I can't tell at this moment, but I might have let a premium situation slip away because I have such a friggin' hard time telling this guy how I feel. Now there are many miles in between us as well as many days, hours, and seconds. Why is it that just when I'm getting more comfortable, a 3 month long gap has to occur?
My room has been slightly rearranged. New additions to my room include this gorgeous dresser that was given to my mom. It's a beautiful shade of dull, vintage blue that works perfectly with my obnoxious yellow walls. I also put my dorm sheets and covers on my bed at home, which makes me feel a bit happier cause I feel like I'm right back at school. I'm laying on my bologna and cheese sandwich pillow sculpture that I made in 11th grade. It's comfortable but every time I shift positions, the lettuce made with newspaper crinkles and startles the cat. hahaha!
I think it's time I introduced you. Everyone, this is Danielle. She is one of the most incredible youtubers in the entire world. Her music is pure bliss and she is hilarious. This was the first video I ever watched of her and after about 56 replays, I learned the words to this song. It's called 'Ode to Optophobia'. Not only is Danielle Ate the Sandwich clever, but she is super talented. also...you should subscribe cause every video she makes is full of wit and humor as well as insightful, homemade lyrics. DANIELLE ATE THE SANDWICH :)
Sunday, May 10, 2009
There is gold dust in my hair
In one week from now, I will be at home in suburban south Jersey. All that's left to do is a math final, a philosophy final, a review to go over my writing portfolio and my art review. I can't say I'm extremely excited about leaving. As much as I like being surrounded by things that comfort me (my home, my friends, knowing that there is a WaWa three minutes away, etc...) and as much as I am done with the work, I can't quite give up the idea of being independent away from my home. I have gotten so use to waking up with a half hour to spare before class, brushin' my toof, wrapping myself in pretty clothes and hoppin' on out the door. I like the contact with the family once or twice a day instead of all the time. It makes it more special when I can talk to mama or seester and ask how their day has been in one complete spew rather than piece by piece. I think the thing that is bothering me the most is that for more than three months, there will be people that I won't see. People that have been kind enough to accompany me on my journey to Dreyfus after lunch. The long talks and amazing gatherings outside of Florence will be coming to a close (partly because it's summer and partly because we're sophomores now). That's so sad. Leaving this room...the room that has become so great plastered with my drawings for Sam and all of our stupid, pointless crap. It will be hard to pack everything up. Maybe that's why I'm waiting until the very last minute to do it. I think I'm also sort of afraid people will come back, myself included, slightly different with different views. I am in love with everything right now and it's going to be one shitty situation if in the fall, our return is not as beautiful as I'm imagining it to be. Oh well, life goes on. I just hope that I can see all these incredible kids over the summer. I am planning on spending a lot of time up here this summer, so open up yo' couches, fools! Kimmy needs some place to sleep!! :3
For more exciting news, I am making new friends like it's my job! Well, only a few new friends, so I guess it would be like a part time job. Maybe a quick baby sitting job only for a few hours...? Anyway, Ryan and Gab. You girls are super super super. With super pictures and wall hangings, I might add. I'm glad you two like me enough to invite me over for girl talk and Girl Talk (lalala bangin bangin lalala music lalala bangin music lala). Also, ladies, you know good music that I can definitely support and appreciate. The laughing/honking is cute and YAY! YOU LIVE LIKE 10 MINUTES AWAY FROM ME SO WE CAN VISIT AND WE'LL PLAY IN THE SPRINKLER AND CHASE THE ICE CREAM MAN AND TALK ABOUT HIGH FIVING AND SPANDEX AND OUR WEIRD ASS LAUGHS! okay? Other exciting news. I was being hoppy as usual and it's possible that I fractured my foot. I can walk on it but it hurts a bit. There is a sick nasty dark purple bruise spanning the top of my foot at the bottom of my wittle toes. The rest of my foot is slightly fat and purpley green. It's gross and happened at the worst time, especially seeing as how I have to move all my shit out in a week. Hahaha whatever. I have made peace with the fact that I could lose my foot :3 I refuse to stop being a hoppy girl..it's part of my nature!
There are two things I am craving right now. Adventure and creme soda. I already had a large swig of Behrle's Jones soda this afternoon so I guess that only leaves the adventure. Can you and I plan a spontaneous road trip together? How about between June 5 and July 15? We'll listen to the enchanting sounds of Bruce Springsteen but then we'll realize that Pavement is better suited for summer cruisin'. When the rain comes, we'll open the windows and stick our heads out the car so we can find any bit of relief in the hot, sticky summer. We'll dip our toes in the lake and recite our favorite movie quotes. At the rest stops, you and I can doodle on blank stickers and plant our imaginations on the world, or maybe just the bathroom stall. At night, we can snuggle into the backseat of the car cause we're too poor/we know better than to sleep in sleazy motel buildings. We'll take pictures of chewed gum on the trees and potholes in the road. Then we'll come back and make a scrapbook and fill it with memories of each and every visit.
I am delighted with who I am.
My goals for this summer:
-Stay connected to my friends, new and old. They keep me weird. I want to dedicate my time to being friendly with friends all summer.
-Go to the beach. Sand and salt. Water and breeze.
-Frequent the city. Any city. I want to be a part of the bustling world.
-Make some money. I need a job bad. Unless someone wants to hand me over a few bucks, then that would be greatly appreciated :)
-Do art for myself. It can be in the form of arting in my room or making sculptures. Whatever it is, I want to do it.
-STAY a happy, hoppy girl!
Ben Kweller knows.
For more exciting news, I am making new friends like it's my job! Well, only a few new friends, so I guess it would be like a part time job. Maybe a quick baby sitting job only for a few hours...? Anyway, Ryan and Gab. You girls are super super super. With super pictures and wall hangings, I might add. I'm glad you two like me enough to invite me over for girl talk and Girl Talk (lalala bangin bangin lalala music lalala bangin music lala). Also, ladies, you know good music that I can definitely support and appreciate. The laughing/honking is cute and YAY! YOU LIVE LIKE 10 MINUTES AWAY FROM ME SO WE CAN VISIT AND WE'LL PLAY IN THE SPRINKLER AND CHASE THE ICE CREAM MAN AND TALK ABOUT HIGH FIVING AND SPANDEX AND OUR WEIRD ASS LAUGHS! okay? Other exciting news. I was being hoppy as usual and it's possible that I fractured my foot. I can walk on it but it hurts a bit. There is a sick nasty dark purple bruise spanning the top of my foot at the bottom of my wittle toes. The rest of my foot is slightly fat and purpley green. It's gross and happened at the worst time, especially seeing as how I have to move all my shit out in a week. Hahaha whatever. I have made peace with the fact that I could lose my foot :3 I refuse to stop being a hoppy girl..it's part of my nature!
There are two things I am craving right now. Adventure and creme soda. I already had a large swig of Behrle's Jones soda this afternoon so I guess that only leaves the adventure. Can you and I plan a spontaneous road trip together? How about between June 5 and July 15? We'll listen to the enchanting sounds of Bruce Springsteen but then we'll realize that Pavement is better suited for summer cruisin'. When the rain comes, we'll open the windows and stick our heads out the car so we can find any bit of relief in the hot, sticky summer. We'll dip our toes in the lake and recite our favorite movie quotes. At the rest stops, you and I can doodle on blank stickers and plant our imaginations on the world, or maybe just the bathroom stall. At night, we can snuggle into the backseat of the car cause we're too poor/we know better than to sleep in sleazy motel buildings. We'll take pictures of chewed gum on the trees and potholes in the road. Then we'll come back and make a scrapbook and fill it with memories of each and every visit.
I am delighted with who I am.
My goals for this summer:
-Stay connected to my friends, new and old. They keep me weird. I want to dedicate my time to being friendly with friends all summer.
-Go to the beach. Sand and salt. Water and breeze.
-Frequent the city. Any city. I want to be a part of the bustling world.
-Make some money. I need a job bad. Unless someone wants to hand me over a few bucks, then that would be greatly appreciated :)
-Do art for myself. It can be in the form of arting in my room or making sculptures. Whatever it is, I want to do it.
-STAY a happy, hoppy girl!
Ben Kweller knows.
Friday, April 24, 2009
Your skin is something that I stir into my tea
I'm looking at the bulletin board that's resting on my desk right now. There are two postcards/fliers that are pinned to the cork that advertise two separate cd releases. They came to school with me partly because they're colorful and add contrast to their desaturated yellow background. But I also like looking at them because they remind me of First Friday in Philadelphia. In two simple pieces of slightly sturdier paper with some colorful print, there are memories that span three years. I have my art teachers, my Art Kidz and memories of super street art all squished into the postcards. I haven't really ever payed any attention to the actual writing but now as I'm glancing over, I realize that the top one says "We are all part of a dream you're having." You don't know how many times I've thought about the fact that a large chunk of my life could be a dream. What if I'm still a naive twelve year old, ready for the big world, who is just stuck in some little land? What if I dreamed the last year of my life and I'm still waiting to graduate high school? I'm going to start paying attention to little details like the tiny writing on the cd release flier. I think it'll do me good.
Recently, the word "accomplished" has been an extremely prominent term in my vocabulary. I am very proud to say that. Last weekend was too hectic and way too sheltered but resulted in the before mentioned prominent term. I "forgot" to do my philosophy paper until the weekend before it was due. So last Saturday I spent hours upon hours (only the night time. hehe) writing about functionalism. I only got like 3 pages done that night so I had to spend the entire day Sunday typing up 7 pages. It was scary cause I had absolutely no faith that I would complete it on time for my Monday afternoon class. But, I did manage to finish it Sunday night and I have a feeling it's at least a B+. So overall, the feeling I had Sunday night was super super. Along with the idea of schoolio, I got all the classes I wanted so I'm pretty excited about that. Also, while in English class, my professor told me I have the soul of a poet. Besides some recent compliments that make me fluttery, that was a great one that I really appreciate. ACCOMPLISHED.
When dealing with friends and others, I feel super excited about that topic. I have been hanging around the same group of people for the past few weeks and I am perfectly content with that. Sandra and I have found ourselves on the sixth floor of Florence quite frequently lately. We usually hang out in Joe and Isaac's room and listen to the Apple Barrel boys serenade us with their love songs. BAHAHAHAHAHAHA. I seriously can't get enough of Joe and Matt's singing. And good news, Sandra and I are part of the actual recording for "Brandon You Suck!" Other accomplishments that occur on the floor include watching an entire season of Frisky Dingo (hilarioussss), setting up my Sega from the early 90's and kicking some ass with The Lion King, The Berenstain Bears, Crystal Pony and a buttload of Sonics. I've also managed to solidify my weird by keeping Brandon awake well past his breaking point at close to four in the morning :3 hahaha! But that is completely not my fault...ok. maybe a little bit. It was fun to talk about our interests even though he doesn't like my indie movies and I don't believe in movies that come in sets of three. It's fine...he'll see my point eventually! bahahaha. ACCOMPLISHED.
-Hey Kim, do you have any more accomplishments that you'd like to share with everyone?
-Actually, Bloggy, I do. Thank you for asking.
Kim as an artist is happening as well. I have gotten a bunch of offers for tattoo drawings from various friends. I'm excited to draw for people, but it's a little intimidating to think that something I draw will be permanently stuck on someone's inner arm or lower abdomen. If I keep getting offers to draw for people, I might just have to change my major to "Sick ass tattoo designer" That's got a nice ring to it right? I've also been asked by Brother Bear Joe to draw the cover art for his cd. That's exciting as well. It's funny that people ask me before professional people. Guess it's cause I don't charge. Maybe I should change that... : / just kidding. except i'm not. Overall, I like that I can be the one people feel comfortable coming to for artist woes. And I especially like the way in which I am being viewed. The poet's soul on top of being the artist is cool cool cool. ACCOMPLISHED.
A list of things that aren't as accomplished:
-Becoming "Kimmy Hendrix" to the fullest capacity. Teach me how to play left handed guitar so that I can be as rockin and rollin as possible. jeeezee. Then get me a ukulele/harmonica.
-Where am I living next year?
I know that I already put Joanna Newsom in my blog. But my god, I cannot stop listening to this song. I bounce between this song and "This Side of the Blue" but this one has a bit more weight behind it. It is so incredibly written and the way she sings it is perfect. It makes me feel like a child until I actually listen to what she's saying. It's called Clam, Crab, Cockle, Cowrie. Pure and Beautiful and True.
Recently, the word "accomplished" has been an extremely prominent term in my vocabulary. I am very proud to say that. Last weekend was too hectic and way too sheltered but resulted in the before mentioned prominent term. I "forgot" to do my philosophy paper until the weekend before it was due. So last Saturday I spent hours upon hours (only the night time. hehe) writing about functionalism. I only got like 3 pages done that night so I had to spend the entire day Sunday typing up 7 pages. It was scary cause I had absolutely no faith that I would complete it on time for my Monday afternoon class. But, I did manage to finish it Sunday night and I have a feeling it's at least a B+. So overall, the feeling I had Sunday night was super super. Along with the idea of schoolio, I got all the classes I wanted so I'm pretty excited about that. Also, while in English class, my professor told me I have the soul of a poet. Besides some recent compliments that make me fluttery, that was a great one that I really appreciate. ACCOMPLISHED.
When dealing with friends and others, I feel super excited about that topic. I have been hanging around the same group of people for the past few weeks and I am perfectly content with that. Sandra and I have found ourselves on the sixth floor of Florence quite frequently lately. We usually hang out in Joe and Isaac's room and listen to the Apple Barrel boys serenade us with their love songs. BAHAHAHAHAHAHA. I seriously can't get enough of Joe and Matt's singing. And good news, Sandra and I are part of the actual recording for "Brandon You Suck!" Other accomplishments that occur on the floor include watching an entire season of Frisky Dingo (hilarioussss), setting up my Sega from the early 90's and kicking some ass with The Lion King, The Berenstain Bears, Crystal Pony and a buttload of Sonics. I've also managed to solidify my weird by keeping Brandon awake well past his breaking point at close to four in the morning :3 hahaha! But that is completely not my fault...ok. maybe a little bit. It was fun to talk about our interests even though he doesn't like my indie movies and I don't believe in movies that come in sets of three. It's fine...he'll see my point eventually! bahahaha. ACCOMPLISHED.
-Hey Kim, do you have any more accomplishments that you'd like to share with everyone?
-Actually, Bloggy, I do. Thank you for asking.
Kim as an artist is happening as well. I have gotten a bunch of offers for tattoo drawings from various friends. I'm excited to draw for people, but it's a little intimidating to think that something I draw will be permanently stuck on someone's inner arm or lower abdomen. If I keep getting offers to draw for people, I might just have to change my major to "Sick ass tattoo designer" That's got a nice ring to it right? I've also been asked by Brother Bear Joe to draw the cover art for his cd. That's exciting as well. It's funny that people ask me before professional people. Guess it's cause I don't charge. Maybe I should change that... : / just kidding. except i'm not. Overall, I like that I can be the one people feel comfortable coming to for artist woes. And I especially like the way in which I am being viewed. The poet's soul on top of being the artist is cool cool cool. ACCOMPLISHED.
A list of things that aren't as accomplished:
-Becoming "Kimmy Hendrix" to the fullest capacity. Teach me how to play left handed guitar so that I can be as rockin and rollin as possible. jeeezee. Then get me a ukulele/harmonica.
-Where am I living next year?
I know that I already put Joanna Newsom in my blog. But my god, I cannot stop listening to this song. I bounce between this song and "This Side of the Blue" but this one has a bit more weight behind it. It is so incredibly written and the way she sings it is perfect. It makes me feel like a child until I actually listen to what she's saying. It's called Clam, Crab, Cockle, Cowrie. Pure and Beautiful and True.
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