Monday, November 29

By any other name
This post concerns anonymous comments. I don't like em. Thus far I've tolerated them as long as the conversation remains civil. But it gets confusing and it seems rude, so I'm tiring of it.

Rather than force you to choose a name, leave your email, and list a page, I'm simply requesting that you chose a handle. ANY HANDLE. Just put something in the box and make it yours. Take an example from %00. I don't care if you're creative, just call yourself something. I can already tell "who" you are (generally) based on IP and ISP, but it's a pain to log in on all computers where I check comments.

I don't want to change comments utilities, as this one is both visually customizeable and archives for a long way back, but I also don't feel like moderating a crowd of ghosts. Throw me a bone, eh? Otherwise I might resort to ghostbusting.

Sunday, November 28

recreational eating
I'm sure I speak for everyone when I say that travel constipation and Thanksgiving Weekend are two events that, combined, can only lead to a certain and early death. Friday morning, after at 8AM breakfast following a dinner that lasted until 11 the night before, I was certain I'd meet my doom. So Justin and I ate the coarsest thing on that damned hotel restaurant menu-- even though I really WANTED the lox bagel-- drank a pot of breakfast tea, downed 3500mg of vitamin C, and waited.

I have survived, returned from a strange world where $500 cashmere and $1200 dinner bills pass by the unfazed gazes of a class higher, mightier and better invested than I. I dined at tables with a waitstaff so attentive they would have surely knelt to lick food from my stocking were it to have been soiled. I drank pear brandy from a special carafe, wine more expensive than I care to imagine, and cocktails I can no longer remember the name. I nibbled on pate, crab, venison, veal, lamb and maine lobster. [MMMMMMMEAT!!!!] And when the invitation came from Justin's well-to-do twenty-something cousin to attend a Georgetown lounge party RSVPed by 750 of DC's finest, we tut-tutted, yawned, and retired to our room to chat in murmured tones until we fell asleep.

We had our share of mishaps too. I think I gained myself an FBI profile by jokingly asking Whitehouse security what exactly would happen to someone who jumped the rather unimpressive lawn fence. Post Turkey Day dinner, Justin ended up with one arm locked in a not-so-fake handcuff, thanks to the mischief of a nine-year-old boy, and had to have it removed with hammer and screwdriver.

It was, frankly, a bit much at times. I feel strangely rested and exhausted at once. It wasn't all the high-life. Even staying at the Park Hyatt, we felt the need to sleep late (yes, jet lag!) and lounge about in our underwear until room service came to pester us. Then we left the room to wander Georgetown and along the Potomac, until I came to discover for myself how absolutely unimpressive most of the political monuments and museums really are. (At least, from a photo-centric perspective.)

On the last night, after everyone but us had flown home from Reagan Nat'l Airport, we called the sightseeing quits. Back in our humble hotel room, we ordered Chinese takeout and a direct TV movie and watched Alien vs. Predator while eating in bed.

That brings me to today, wherein I got up at 3:30AM (PST) and spent 9 hours in an out of airports. It's good to be back.

And the $85 in cash we found under the hotel bed as we were packing this morning ain't bad either.

Tuesday, November 23

Bored and Boring
Really, really sick of school right now. Only two more classes today and I can slip off to Seattle and then to DC with Justin.

Despite the moderate workload, everything's going smoothly. I finally went to Rennie's bar with the Llamas on Friday, after a couple beers and pizza at Pegasus. Not a bad place. I have to say I'm surprised.

Saturday night, Rachelry and I made potato leek soup, rented "wedding movies" (chick flicks) and in between DVDs, walked to Sweet Life and ate a slice of vegan raspberry chocolate torte, which tasted remarkably UN-vegan. MMM.

God, I think... I'm in a blogging slump. It's not that life has become boring or mundane per se, it's that during "ups" like this, all the joy and introspection passes through me like water, and though I note "I should write that down," I'm usually too busy enjoying myself to actually do it.

Instead, I find myself wanting to write about how my office G4 died when I flashed the PRAM or how the plant on my desk is slowly dying, simply because these things are right in front of me.

I guess I'll just make a random chart of things that are going through my head and leave it at that until I return from DC (unless I hook up in the hotel room).

I finally got renter's insurance.
The left hole of my right piercing worries me because it's irritated, but the piecer says it looks OK.
I hope Rupert doesn't get too sad and lonely while I'm away.
VH1 is addictive and evil. "Top 40 Reality TV Moments" had me hooked for two hours last night.
I'm horny and I think I'll take the next five days to do something creative to fix that problem.
I feel spontaneous, adventurous and, above all, ready to go practice being a yuppie in DC.

UH. Pathetic, I know, but that's it. I'm circling around thinking nothing and thinking everything; trying to keep a blank mind and getting all my shit together.

O well, shouganai ne.

Friday, November 19

blgghhppt
I was having some hott dream about Pierce Brosnan when an alley cat fight outside my window (in the alley, ironically) woke me up. GRR.

Justin sent me this ASCII music video of the Rammenstein song Feuer Frei. Very amusing.

Thursday, November 18

horoscope
"Libra," he identified me without looking up, as I walked into the store. There was a pause as I contemplated the man seated before me, hunched over a paper and bundled in a cloak. His hat and beard met in a small rim of shadow. I walked back and forth along the edge of the outer display, looking at medieval gowns. There was no one else in the store.

After a moment, he continued:

Hydrogen and oxygen, water, the building block of life... repellant of fire. These elements, conflicting... progress and moving forward.

In a voice broken and trance-like, he was reading from the paper in his lap. I circled a rack of gentleman's shirts. I listened and could not leave as his voice grew smaller and emptier...

...and beware of travel this week.

He stopped. I stopped. A moment passed before he looked up.

"Oh," he said, "I'm sorry. If I'm reading I hardly notice when someone comes into the store."

"That's OK, I'm a Libra," I replied, not really saying what I meant.

"Really." Less a question than a statement, "When were you born?"

"October sixteenth."

"Funny," he said, "so was I."

Wednesday, November 17

bragging rights
I'm back on the bike after a week without. And, wouldn't ya know it, in the interrum all the leaves have fallen from the trees. Now the bike lanes are littered with debris and, in spots, PILES of leaves that the city sees unfit to take care of. Worse, there are several spots on my route now freckled with broken glass. Is it not someone's JOB to keep streets clean? It makes me mad when I have to swerve into traffic or risk impaling my tubes.

Nevertheless, a nice, chill bike ride home under a clear thumbnail moon is the perfect way to clear my head. I really don't enjoy riding the bus at all. Talking to/ smelling/ sitting in close proximity of perfect strangers just isn't my cup o' tea.

My ride home today nearly rid me of a pounding headache I've had since near noon. I volunteered at tha campus "study abroad fair," and stayed for all FIVE HOURS of it even though the Japan table had more than its share of volunteers. But when they said they'd be playing some international music in the background, I didn't expect the place to boom like a friggin' disco. It was quite overstimulating. Rather reminded me of being in Japan.

Is anyone else excited for Thanksgiving? Normally I could give or take, but as I didn't have one last year (save for a bout of unprecedented gluttony at an American-style buffet in the Ginza) and I've something special planned this year, I'm getting all giddy.

Justin and I are flying to Washington, D.C. next Wednesday to meet & greet his relatives. There will be much schmoozing, eating, and drinking all on someone else's very generous tab. I feel quite priveliged (we're staying at the Park Hyatt, woo!) and very grateful, but most of all I'm excited to see the Speyers in their "natural setting." (Except Tim, who I assume will be as a duck out of water.)

As for tonight and today, I've several Japanese assignments to study and then it's off with me to the Eugene Weblogger's meetup.

Tuesday, November 16

284 miles
It must be these cold winter nights. I really wish I were coming home to my man right now. There were too many times when we lived together here in Eugene, that I took for granted the wonderful feeling of proximity.

When I get out of college, I swear I am done with long-distance relationships. I've done my time flinging about the country. I'm going to settle down and do nice, domestic things like bake cookies and grow herbs in windowsill pots. Then I'll go fling about the world... WITH someone I love.

Ha!

Monday, November 15

How 'bout the weather?



Reminds me of the weather in Oregon atm



Hoo-rah, I've registered for my winter classes. I hope my courseload during these upcoming darkest of days will not be enough to make me want to kill myself. I hate winter term.

Kat's new classes:
-Rock Climbing I (I NEVER imagined I'd take this)
-Spinning (indoor group cycling-- w/ Rachelry!)
-Magazine Writing I (Eh, it's required and I've procrastinated long enough)
-Media Literacy (Another Breadth requirement... I hope it's easy)
-Advanced Spoken Japanese (so long, horrible Kanji teacher!!)

Friday, November 12

the bride wears white
Because Micah and Rachel have announced it over on their wedding blog it seems safe to say that I can now proclaim (with girlish glee):

I get to be a bridesmaid!

YAY YAY YAY!!! YAAAAYYYY!!! I'm gonna get all dressed up in a pretty pretty dress and wear shineys and have my hair all nice so I can look awesome and make RacheMicah's wedding all the more beeeeutiful!!

I'm so excited! GAH! Look what you've done to me, society! I get all girly and gleeful at the mention of weddings and my eyes tear up watching friggin DeBeers commercials. AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAGGGGHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!

I feel kind of dirty. First a post about babies and now one about weddings, all in the same week.

Help?

Wednesday, November 10

"I have always relied on the kindness of strangers."
It's not often that I'll write a tribute post to readers, simply because there aren't that many who I know well and I don't recieve a lot of fan mail (believe it or not, I do, but not much).

But today I'd like to send out a special thanks, to my friend Monk and to avid reader "Lifelong Dem," who together have donated over half the cost of my replacement bike parts. Guys, I always feel so unworthy of charity, but your help means so much. My bike may not be the greatest, but it is very important to me. Trust me, it'll be inside or in our storage shed from now on, even if it's inconvenient or ruins the carpet.

Random acts of kindness cancel random acts of cruelty.

THANK YOU!!!!

(I think I'm in shock.)

oh, baby
I'm hoping to god this isn't a portend... but I dreamed last night I was pregnant. Like really, hugely pregnant. What a weird feeling to wake up to. I'm still having trouble shaking it off.

Tuesday, November 9

We're sorry, world



We'll call this a "preemptive apology," on behalf of the democratic voters, for the next four years.

Click link, visit gallery, submit yours.

And just because it's funny, fuck the South.

Monday, November 8

Righteous Indignation
I'd heard through the grapevine that my Bitch-Saint Grandmother called my dad to gloat about the election results. All I have to say about that woman is that while she means well, she's about as much a brainwashed and spoonfed sheep as Fox news and the Christian church could ever hope for. On the one hand, I applaud her Christian charity and on the other, I detest her narrow-minded moral judgements.

And my dad? Woah, this campaign had him on the war path. I've never seen either of my parents politically motivated, though this may just be because my birth changed their hippie ways. But after four-years of this fascist administration, dad got teed off enough that he started rallying for Howard Dean, which really surprised me. I met Dean when he and Clinton spoke at the UO on Halloween in 2002 and even then he struck me as a bit... much. I'm glad my dad got involved in something. I'm even glad he got outraged, as depressed as it seemed to make him at times. Political activism will ALWAYS be better than apathy.

You can imagine that Grandma calling up dad to gloat about the moralistic majority did nothing good. In response, dad's drafted a letter to Bush voters. It's a very angry letter, and perhaps one I'd not recommend he send directly to our older, republican family members. Nevertheless, I am impressed, and so I am posting it.

I will not be hosting a debate on this post, or replying to inflammatory pro-republican comments. The reason is this: the individual opinions expressed in this letter are not my own. I agree with the overall message, but I didn't write it.

With that, enjoy:

A Letter to Bush Voters. (pdf format)

on the flipside
I had a totally, completely unproductive and useless weekend. Which was due in large part to my acting like a surly bitch all yesterday... but really, I couldn't help it, I felt like I'd been hit with a 2x4.

So, my weekend was a total void of getting nothing done. But instead of looking at this as a failure, I'm going to look at it as a success. Weekends are, after all, meant for the doing of NOTHING.

On top of the nothing productive I got done, managed a few fun interludes. Went to the Sat market. Ran 2.5 miles. Had some of the weirdest no-pants photos taken of me ever. Watched Underworld. Drank a ton of white wine.

So, there, it wasn't a complete loss. And all the more reason for me to get my ass in gear today, while I still have no class. It's been a success so far; by 11AM this morning, I'd pumped some iron, ran 2.8 miles, and donated ma blood to needy and starving vampire children. Err, well, the blood has been donated, but I only like to tell myself that last part to make it more awesomer.

Happy Monday, the end.

Sunday, November 7

GOD DAMMIT!


The next bum or junkie I see is getting kicked in the balls.

It's going to cost me around $100 to replace the back tire and gear set of my mountain bike.

It seems like poetic justice when the bike thieves steal stuff off of careless people's bikes who are left in the same spot on campus for weeks... but this is my mode of transportation, eh? I ride it rain and shine. And it was THREE FEET FROM MY BACK DOOR.

That's not comforting.

I know I shouldn't ask, but if you feel sorry for me, I could really use a little paypal love right now... $80 is all I have in my bank account.

*sigh*

And I was having such a nice Sunday morning.

Saturday, November 6

Thank you, Perverts
Ah yes, how sweet it is to be back in the google top ten hits for schoolgirl. I'm number five.

That might explain why my referrals have spiked from in the 110s per day to around 150 hits per day in the last week.

It helps that my dear old pervert friend, the Twisted Monk, has linked me to his blog... although my witless comments to his posts seem to get me more traffic than the direct blog link.

Nevertheless, I RULE!

So hey, perverts, stick around. Those pictures of the banana deepthroating contest are long gone... but there's still a picture of my nipple around here somewhere. Should you hunt for it, it's really not very far. I do own a schoolgirl(ish) outfit and am a college co-ed. But, alas, I'm afraid there are no pictures of "antics" anywhere nearby. But another random google search just might turn up some... somewhere.

ghostpirate fishermen
I went to the Saturday Market to attempt to use up the last hour of daylight. As I was leaving, I was assaulted by some creepy fisherman dude who told me I couldn't leave until I bought some salmon.

Yarr! That thar is the best salmon in these parts, missy!

When I told him I loved fish but wasn't carrying any money, he shoved a package of alaskan wild salmon into my hands as a gift.

Then, when I looked up, the sun had vanished and everything was shrouded in some creepy, freezing SEA FOG. And it's moving in very, very fast. Ghost-pirate fishermen can do that, you know.

Now, I wonder about preparing my tasty, tasty undead salmon.

Friday, November 5

changing colors
I love fall. If there's anything that's take my mind off how blind and decieved I've felt since the election, it's the fabulous weather we're having. It's so cool and beautiful, and the leaves are all at the peak of turning colors. I feel ashamed to be inside right now, sitting at my desk. I ought to go roll around in the grass beneath my window. That's still pretty much my office, right?

I forgot my lunch today, which would have been a bad thing except that I just made peanut butter and jelly anyway, which I can't stand to eat UNLESS I'm at the summit of a mountain or on a good, long dayhike. So I walked down to Sakura and bought myself a hot, steaming oyako-don (chicken, egg and onion over rice, for those who don't know). Sakura gets bonus points for having that on their menu. Staple fast food item in Japan.

I'm considering dropping my Reading/writing Japanese class next term. What shames me is that those are the areas in which I'm LEAST proficient, and I ought to study them, but the professor is so wretched and horrible that I can't enjoy the class at all. I'm putting the bare minumum into my effort and not learning much. I wish there were another class, or that I felt confident I could teach myself kanji more easily. Oh well.

Justin says he's feeling restless, wants to go somewhere, do something exciting. I'm usually the one, between the two of us, who is always wiggling my way into something new. At the moment, I'm probably the most settled and contented I've ever been, so it's quite thrilling for me to hear him suggest we adventure into something new. We've already gotten advanced scuba certifications together. Perhaps our next joint foray will be into rock climbing, although he already has a leg up on me in that one (no pun intended).

I wish the weather were like this every day, and that when it needed to rain, it would do so at night. I don't mind clouds, snow, or the occasional shower, but I find the Pacific Northwest to be infinitely more likelable when it's not being blanketed in freezing, damp mist. After another few winters of this, should my sweetheart still have a change in mind after his nursing program, maybe we'll journey somewhere east, or westward overseas to find a place where winter is better.

Thursday, November 4

Mountain Air


As the weather is supposed to continue to be decently beautiful through the weekend, I though I'd propose an outing.

Are any of you Llamas (or non-Llamas) interested in going for a hike in the Sisters or along the McKenzie this weekend?

I know, I know, *I* don't have a car or know the area that well... but I'm a good hiker! It might be the last chance to use weekend weather for outdoor purposes before the miserable, depressing six-month-long rain sets in. ;)

Wednesday, November 3

Freedom(0)/Fascism(1)
Later tonight I'll be changing back the blog's colors. My homage to the election is over, the election itself a failure (for democrats) and the world no more or less safe from the tyranny of American Imperialism than it was yesterday. Jesus Christ, I knew there were a lot of rednecks, cowboys and social conservatives in the states but I'd hoped there weren't THAT MANY of them.

Still, my reaction to the subject amounts, at best, to an "oh well." I figured this was going to happen. Secretly, in a deep part of me that loves conflict and craves revolution, hoped it would happen. I'm of the opinion, honestly, that things in this country (and likewise, the world) are going to have to get worse before they get better. I think Kerry would have been such a mediocre president as to have simply kept the pot simmering for many more years before it finally boiled. If anything, Bush and his cabinet are a catalyst... a terrible, burning acid but a catalyst nevertheless. I say let Monkey Boy handle his own mess and if he fails, let it become more and more crystal clear what an absolute fucking idiot he is. It's time for a little civil disobedience. I call down the gods of social revolution.

That, however, is my response only directly to the electoral results. If you ask me about the cross-country state bans on gay marriage, I'm livid. I think it's disgusting to discriminate against love and deny benefits to couples and partners who for NO GOOD REASON don't deserve it. What the hell happened to a separate church and state? Hoo boy, and if you ask me about the (distant) possibility of a draft, I'll tell you just what I think.

They'll take my man over my dead fucking body.

This war has gone too far. I've opposed it from the beginning and I continue to protest against whenever I have the chance. Resolving the mess that is the Middle East has been made an American responsibility. We're not going to be able to set up another pawn in Iraq and move on. It will take years and years and years of money, resources and soldiers. I'm hoping it doesn't degenerate into more outright invasion but I'm going to assume the worse. And should that happen, I want no part in it, for myself or my family. This war is wrong. If it comes to a draft, in any form, I will seriously consider giving up my citizenship or going to jail in opposition.

I was grateful to spend last night in the company of many good and close friends. I cooked a kickass pasta and alternated between watching the polls and taking time-out in the solace of my upstairs bedroom. If the world is in tumult around me, at least I have the blessing of being more centered and spiritually fit than I've ever felt.

A big part of last week's rabid breakdown (Thursday) is, I think, this stability I've been experiencing. As usual, with my "ups," the "downs" are worse. And because I've been so far removed from frequent drops in confidence, my emotions were heightened in severity. Right now, I'm not used to that "black" state of mind I've had so often before.

I think I'm glad I hit the wall on Thursday. It allowed me to see that I'm NOT immune to freaking out and going downhill. I had to think long and hard about what triggered my freak-out and what I can do this winter to maintain a positive mindset as the days get darker.

First, I think what blew my circuits was my design class. I want so badly to excel in that class but the fact is that I fall somewhere in the low-middle of the skill range. I'm not a designer. I'm gaining good insight into design but as far as creativity goes, my inspirations are coming up short. The problem is that I can't be visually creative when I'm stressed and/or busy. I've just never learned that skill. So when the prof in this class pushes for a quick turnaround, instead of churning with ideas, my brain just shuts off. More than any other time, when I don't feel like I have some creativity, I feel like a failure.

I'm not sure what to do to prevent myself from walking into another mess like that again, especially come thesis crunch-time, but I expect that if I stay centered and present and maybe read a little passage from The Power of Now on and off, everything will turn out fine.

I wrote the poem below over a year and a half ago, the winter before going to Japan, after a rather surreal dream and a few prophetic conversations (this was during my "Cassandra" phase). For some reason, a line in the last stanza popped into my head when I was running this morning. It has, indeed, been almost five years since event (breakup) to which the poem refers. And though I absolutely could not have foreseen my life evolving into what it has since that February, I'm pleasantly surprised. So many things have started anew, in ways different than I might have imagined. It's nice to see that even in moments of self-fulfilling prophetic doom, the truth of our relationships with the people around us can evolve into something that exceeds expectation. Maybe there's hope for this mess of a world after all.

Swans & Ducks
{A homage to last night's dream}
You named me by so many metaphors
but still never learned who I am;
I can see the future.

It's all packed into crates and boxes,
the remnants of an aging house.
Locked bureaus left out in the rain,
lamps that won't turn on.

My sisters sorting through mementos,
memories of a twilight grey.
She told me, in the dream, that I would never leave
and I knew she meant I could not be free.

Five years, I said, then we can start again
You held me and I cried
It's easy to love someone when they're going away.

Tuesday, November 2

Election Coverage
Live, now, from the Llama D.

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAGHHHHH!!! AAAAAAA! AAAAAA! AAAAA! A! NOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!! SHIIIIIITTTT!!!!

We are so screwed.

Monday, November 1

needle and thread
I got a double-piercing this weekend. My nipples.

I've been thinking about it for a long time, weighing all the pros and cons in my head, and based on how long and how seriously I deliberated, as well as all the little plus and minus factors, decided that now was the time to try it.

I think female nipple piercings are very attractive, if well done. However, I know that not everyone has a positive image of them, so I was concerned about the piercing itself and also about posting things concerning it here. But, as it turns out, the jewelry is even more low profile than I expected (huzzah!) so I won't be subjecting the eyes of strangers to my nipples [any more than usual] unless I wear a tight, braless tank top.

I was pierced with 14-gauge, 9/16" barbells. Easiest to clean and heal. Less visible. I'll probably pick up a shorter barbell with smaller "balls" on the end after I've healed a bit. I like delicate jewelry and right now I feel like what I have is too big, but necessary as I'm swollen to about 150% of my normal diameter. What REALLY takes getting used to is being "shiny" when I take off my shirt. Someday I'll probably get rings. I like rings.

I also like the feeling of having some secret jewelery that no one but me (and now you all, I guess) really knows about. It does make me feel sort of strange... slutty and sheepish, but I can't say that it's changed me in any way.

Everyone has nipples; some are just more sensitive than others about them. That being said, the following picture is probably STILL not worksafe. And if you are a relative or an unannounced aquaintance, you may not want to have a look. Got it?

GOOD.

(Note: the semi-circular indent around my nipple is from the salt-water soak I'd been doing with a shot glass a few minutes before. It's not always like that! )