You.

I have adjusted.
I'm not happy.
I don't do my work to the best of my ability.
I have Kanye West singing to me.
I've got bruises on my shins.
I have an empty stomach.
I developed a sense for scary dreams.
I've developed a sense for dreams with signs.
I wear more mascara.
I bit the skin around all my fingers because I'm stressed.
I have a band-aid on one finger.
I have lower abdominal cramps.
I have friends.
I know how to art.
I don't know how to speak up in class.
I do know how to hug those I love.
I have Journey singing to me.
I have a sense of humor.
I have a personality.
I have to poop.
I put twenty pounds of clay on my face yesterday.
I want to have more.
I have too much.
I, I, I.
You, You, You.
Me.

Amber Waves and Spacious Skies

Just in case.... I am slightly dizzy right now. After having re-read two very insightful and inspirational letters from a stranger and a good friend, I sat up to a wobbly, unstable world. I think maybe just a lot of blood cells swam up to my brain all at once. That might have been because I was hanging over my bed upside down, mimicking a cave dwelling mammal while I was reading said letters. But either way, I'm a bit dizzy, and really cold. I hope I haven't contracted any sicknesses since I've returned to school cause that would just be one hell of a Debbie Downer. The icy rain today managed to soak through every layer of me, and I think I can conclude that it is at least partly the reason for my permanent shiver.

Last weekend I went to a carnival with Ryan and about ten other fantastic people. That was the kind of fun I was looking for, exactly. Three hours before I departed in the back of Matt's car with Ryan riding shotgun, I had no idea what the night would hold for me. But then Ryan and Rose let me in on the happenings of the carnival/firework combo that was only about twenty minutes away from FDU. I went on a journey with Ryan to the Himalaya, ya know, the ride that goes in a circle super fast so that you end up with half of your ass on the other person's lap, all the while loud club music is bouncing off of the flashy neon lights that are bouncing off of your fixed grin. It was almost as good as challenging Elyse, Rose and Shawnsy to the Sizzler. The fireworks were the best part of the night, however. In honor of Labor Day, the overcrowded carnival placed on firm ground decided to shoot off a half hour worth of pyrotechnics. Patriotic sounds blasted over the loudspeakers as all the rides stopped turning and as colors blew up the sky. In the beginning, the worked fire was nothing impressive, but after about three minutes, a beautiful array of yellow starbursts and blue fading crackles made their way into each and everyone's reflected gaze. We made references all night to The Sandlot, especially when "America the Beautiful" came on and we all felt just as humble as Squints as he looked up at the magic booming in the sky.

So far, this second year of school is aight in my book. There are some friends who I'm disappointed in for their lack of contact. There is one person I'm disappointed in for lack of contact. But that person is doing enough to keep me hanging on. Let's just hope I don't hang for too long before something amazing happens. Other than that, classes can suck it but my lovely bunch of weird friends do not have to. Also, I absolutely LOVE meeting new people. I have been meeting and connecting with people so often and I don't think I could ask for anything better than that.

You Are Beautiful.

Sweet on Grinding?

It's my second night as a sophomore. I can get used to this. I made the transition from eighteen year old to nineteen year old not too long ago, I don't think the switch to a second year college student should be difficult. Remember when I said I was going to have a roommate that I didn't know, except she lived above me and Sam last year? Well, she's not my roommate. When I arrived, heaving and ho-ing with cargo in tow I saw that the print out on the door had the three sets of girls in our suite. Except next to my name was 'Nadine.' Hmmm.. that's weird. Kimberly & Nadine. That name sounds oddly familiar. Probably because it's my middle name and the RA who typed up the room sheet was confused and thought my middle name was my roommate. So for now, I'm livin' it up as a single gal in the middle room of our suite. I threw up (yuck!) some posters and my collages and also my small string of Christmas lights. Cause I don't sleep in the dark. Also though, if everything goes well in Residence Life, after two weeks I'm going to try to switch into the Maxey/Sam/Dana/Jess/Julie suite two buildings away. They are my friends and I think I would much rather be with friends than secluded in a suite of juniors from a sorority. Either way, I'm happy though. These rooms are cool and for the two week freeze period, I'ma enjoy this freedom. Funny thing... the same thing happened last year and then the best possible situation occurred. Sam became my roommate. So I'm going to stay positive.

I'm happy about all the hugs I've been receiving. I like all my friends a lot. Even more when they hug me. Except when Isaac hugs me and puts his sweaty arm nook on my neck. GROSS. But I think it's great that I get to see so many familiar faces once again. It's great that the new faces have arrived as well. I see girls who look confused walking through the cafeteria and instantly I'm reminded of the first week when finding who to sit with was a challenge. A lot of the time I sat alone with a book in hopes that someone would strike up a conversation with me about how wilted the lettuce is or how they hope they can switch into their friend's bio class. That usually never happened. This year, I'm going to be keeping an eye out for the girl sitting in the back of the cafeteria with a book, waiting.

I just got done reading a letter Ryan wrote me. There is this incredible she man grunting in the photograph on the cover of the card. His eyes are highlighted by black eyeliner and sparkling silver eyeshadow. His 'ferocious floozy' lipstick accentuates his three day old beard and nicotine stained rotting teeth. His natural dark sideburns poke their way through the fire engine red straw wig he has perched on his head. From the creases in his face and the crows feet developing around his eyes, I'd say he was at least forty-two. And he is beautiful. Not as beautiful as the letter Ryan wrote. It is raw and true. Did I ever tell her (you) that I'm glad I'm your (her) friend? Cause I really am. Moments like this card and me meeting her other roommate who has heard so much about me means that we are real friends. The second Ryan meets my friends, she'll find out that I have only good things to say about her adorable clothes and awesome taste in LIFE! :) Ryan, you are absolutely correct. It is an incredible feeling to know that there are people out there who can trust one another without even having the pleasure of meeting. And that is exactly why I am going to re-read the letter from on the road once again before I retire super early into dream land.

The Good:

-I was complimented on my red acid washed jeans 4 times today. Rumor has it, people thought my jeans were from American Apparel or Urban. Nope. Neither. Macy's :) Also, two girls I've never met before told me I looked ready to curb stomp someone!

-My hair was successful with all of her bobby pins and necklace as a headband lovin'.

-These peanuts that I can't stop eating.

-Hugs.

The Not-So-Good:

-The belly ache I have acquired from eating a spicy buffalo chicken wrap and the damn door to the bathroom that seems to always be propped open.

-Cuts from shaving in the tiny shower. I will never grasp the hang of the showering here. Now I have scratchy legs and band-aids.

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.