last thursday, i went to fetch a cup o caffeine from a centrally located coffee kiosk on campus. as i waited for my drink to pop up from behind the espresso machine (and the newbie who accidentally poured my desired “iced” shots into a plastic cup sans ice and melted it), i watched a guy from the corner of my eye. tall, maybe 6’1. 20-22. long dark trenchy-like coat. bulging backpack. have no idea what his face looked like. i was observing strictly from my periphs. frankly, the best way to describe him = he seemed the type to enjoy computer games, pizza and mountan dew. he ordered a coffee refill. and in the process of refilling his cup, a coin fell out of his hand and to the ground. i think it was a dime. he looked down and stared at the money. i could sense him calculate the cost-benefit analysis in his head: “do i exert the physical labor necessary to bend my knees 45 degrees and pick up the coin?” versus “no way man, not worth it.” the time he spent looking at the coin was more than enough time to pick it up. he chose to walk away. i felt slightly entertained and smugly horrfied by his laziness before i realized that i was too lazy to pick it up too.

#14. scrabble. never leave home without it (literally). 

scrabble-large

Welcome to the world of dating, Kelly! I have not been single since I was 18 (and that was for, oh i dunno, 3-4 months?):

10. while spending time with somebody, avoid listening to your favorite music. our perceptions, memories, experiences are all about sensual associations. music loves are forever, lovers are not. take precautionary measures to protect the former from becoming stained by memories!!!

some wounded soldiers:

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*****There is one exception to this rule, though. Aaron, I hope you read this because our first slow dance at Dan Bunn’s halloween party will forever have a gold star in my books. a permament feature of my love life’s highlight reel. “allll myyy liiiife…” ūüėÄ

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10. physical traits (good looks, style, size of anything, etc) have nothing to do with physical capabilities.

11. you may have heard about my three-week phenomenon. after three weeks of awesomeness, freshness, newness, excitement, butterflies, near-contentedness…. something happens. either you get too clingy, he gets too clingy, somebody moves, you meet somebody else, it gets stale, somebody does something to piss the other off… and so on.¬†

12. don’t get too chummy with the other person’s friends.

13. apparently i am attracted to men who are artists, musicians and horticulturalists.

some shiz i learned this year:

1. i was not unhappy in my relationship with alex because of him or our relationship. it was me. it’s always me/you. stress is a choice. the love we give away is the only love we keep.

2. singledom is FUN, especially in the summer when you’ve just turned 21… (im full of rhymes today).

3. i really like not having a television with cable in my house. and im not saying this so i can say “i dont even watch tv…” (pretentiously, obnoxiously, you know the types). although i do miss the heck out of jon and kate plus 8.

4. at my 4th “barista” job, i am increasingly annoyed at how 90% of customers have no idea what they’re ordering. dont even get me going. after all, im just talking over-priced lattes in a world of wars, famine, droughts, slavery, oppression, horrifying (to put it lightly) social and economic inequalities and unimaginable terrors that a little girl like me in a bubble like ashland, OR could never come close to perceiving… BUT COME ON PEOPLE! sometimes i want to throw a white chocolate mocha into somebody’s face. i won’t forget to ask if they want whipped cream.

5. heaven comes in the form of a little, clear plastic bottle with a cute green top.

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6. read anything by michael pollen. have you ever thought about what it is we are made of? food and water, bitches. theyre the next oil and power. 

7. i need to learn to be happy with and by myself- without being in love or accompanied by a dude-cessorie. 

8. my dog (ok so maybe i should say my family’s dog?, he lives in medford), tucker, is the shit. last week he got into some cleaning supplies. was seizuring, vomiting, paralyzed. my brother told me all this in a phone call one night as a got off of work. tears flooded my eyes as i braced myself for life without tucker. i wanted to stop by the house to see him, console him, say goodbye, whatever. but i was too much of a coward. i did not want to see him as i last saw waffle, our beloved family cat, who was put to rest after a painful battle with cancer last summer (on my birthday). anyway, the next day i show up at my parent’s house and guess who greets me at the door, chipper and happy as ever; TUCKER!!! he may be an overly hyper, stinky-breathed, ¬†little “kick-me-dog”, but that adorable black ball of fur is one of the best things in my world.

9. why did i spend my whole life saying i hated electronic music? oh.my.word. have i been missing out

 

…i will continue this list tomorrow

at the bean in medford, there are these customers that come by almost every night. i think they are my favorites. after they drive away, my heart always feels a little warmer than it did before. a dad and his daughter. he drives a silver minivan. i think he’d rather have a mustang. their looks are banal, and i say that in the nicest way possible. they both have light brown hair. his is thinning, hers is kinda bushy. he is chubby in the 40-something-dad-way that lots of dads are. she has braces and a little baby fat. my guess is she is 12, 13?

they come a little after eight when she gets out of gymnastics. am i creepy? no. one just can’t deny that she is always outfitted in gymnastics clothes. she always gets a smoothie of some sort, sometimes he gets one too. ¬† ¬† ¬† ¬†¬†

 

i used to take piano lessons at a woman’s house in medford. sometimes my mom picked me up when i was done, other times my dad. i always hoped my dad would because we’d make a pitstop at the nearby convenience store where he’d let me pick out a treat. most of the time i’d elect a bag of m&ms; the regular kind with the brown packaging. i sucked them until i could nibble off the shells and eat them first in my mouth, then i’d eat the chocolatey inside. sometimes i opted for a bag of cheetohs. when you grow up with a worry-wart mother who never bought any sort of junk food, treats like these were amaaaazing. mmm (i just found out the other day cheetohs have MSG, as do pringles, as do a million other things. fucking ew).¬†

during the AAU bball days of 5th-6th grade for crater hs, i would almost always be granted a trip to 7/11 on the way home from central point after games and pratices. slurpees! remember slurpees? i know they still exist and all but, um, when was the last time you had a slurpee? oh the pleasure of layering the different flavors one on top of another in your cup to form a lovely, multi-colored treat of icysweet goodness? kinda like how when i was a kid i’d mix together all the different types of soda’s at maggie’s pizza (my older brother and his friends called it a “suicide”, so hardcore), only tons better.¬†

i have a feeling that when i have a family one day, i will be a worry-wart like my mother. however, it will warm my heart and make me feel so happy if my babydaddy treats my daughter to junkfood after her extracurriculars because he is proud of her and wants to make her happy, even if its in such a base way. i wont mind because it’s their thing, a little ritual they share, almost like a special secret.¬†

i found something that i wrote to myself a few years ago:

 

“what are you like, oh future Kelly-reader?” am i talking to you as you are tomorrow or 50 years from tomorrow? Regardless, you are very changed, I’m sure, but very much the same as well! i hope you are happy. maybe one day you will learn to love yourself more fully (or at least for more than a few short moments at a time). i hope you are patient. i hope you are compassionate. i hope you inspire. i hope you love. i hope you are not living a life governed by fear. balls to the wall! i hope you let the people you love know that you love them. i hope you feel light and liberated. i hope you don’t care much how others view you. i hope you do everything you do with all your heart. i hope you sleep enough. i hope you dont scowl or glare too much. i hope you are nice. i hope you can articulate your thoughts and opinions clearly and with more sophistication. i hope you do not feel alone. i hope you can accept your body. i hope you feel adequate, good enough. i hope you take everything with a grain of salt and never forget what andrew from TC told you when he said “Question Everything.” i hope you have hope. i hope you revisit old favorite books and music. i hope you remember to step back and appreciate the beauty of nature. i hope you still sail. i hope you still have a jumpshot. i hope you dont have too many regrets. i hope you go to the present enough and relish permanent moments of impermanence….. ….i hope you are not a flake, and on the same note i hope you arent too much of a hypocrite. i hope you still like looking up at trees, i hope you read more, i hope you cook more. i hope you dont feel like a failure. dont doubt yourself too much….”

 

maybe a couple of years is not time enough? at least i still like looking up at trees.

earlier tonight, i discussed journals with a friend. to skip the bull, important conclusions/inspirations from said conversation are:


1. journals are good!


2. the creative conceptualizations of thoughts conjured by our minds, followed by processes of transcription and translation to physical form (like put down on paper, or bloggy-form!) helps one separate, perhaps organize and wade through their emotions.


wade. i like how this word sounds here, but it seems a bit too nice. you and i are both of the human kind and therefore all-too-aware of the nature of emotions. at any given time, trying to sort through them (or “wade”!) may seem as pleasurable and euphoric as good music, good food, good love, good sex, perfect days, warmth, light, family, hope, peace, ¬†love. the bestest things ever! you arent even wading, you’re floating in bliss….and then at any other given moment, trying to deal with your emotions is more like wading through 7 feet of horse shit and ragged shards of glass for 87 miles with a migraine. ¬†hellish as the power of all your fears, pains, enemies, terrors and bad times rolled into an massive ball of evil energy times 019385019358.


3. similar to the relationship i have with yoga, i should get back into a routine of writing. see how long a new spurt can last.