I considered doing a rapid fire tweet approach to studying for my Spanish test tomorrow, but I hate when people post like maniacs all over the feed. So I'm condensing all my Spanish bitching into a blog. If you're looking for my blog about a window, scroll down. Man, the quality of this thing has taken a dive. It's ok. Finals are coming. All I want to do is blog during finals. But here's this. Enjoy.
12:19
What the hell kind of textbook doesn't have a table of contents? I'm gonna need so many post-its.
..haha post-its sounds like post tits. I'm 14. It's fine.
12:25
Shits so hot motha fuckas gonna fiiiind me, that shit cray FOCUS. Are those even the right wordsFOCUS.
12:44
"Ningun/o/a/os/as/ (a)" why you gotta be so tricky? There are too many rules with you. I don't like it.
12:48
Balls, I never texted my mom back. She texted at like 8am. Crappers. Sorry mom.
12:50
Either my Spanish books smells like weed or I'm losing my mind.
"O mi libro de Espanol...smells... que weed o yo soy... losing my mind." Almost. Almost but not really.
1:00
Found my directors notebook instructions in my Spanish book. Too much stress in one place at one time. My shoulder blades are going to be stuck to my ears.
1:05
"dir" "har" Stupid.
1:10
I'm going to sleep like a rock on Grayhound tomorrow.
1:24
This summer I told my boss, "No I totally get shlepping, I'm a theatre major, I do a lot of weird stuff for money." It didn't occur to me until now why that's weird. I was thinking more along the lines of dressing up in full cat unitard to belt Memory at a college arts fest. Maybe I did that a few summers ago.
1:27
Showers are like fuel for studying.
1:47
And like magic for remembering the Italian in the aria you're singing tomorrow.
2:02
The wall has been hit. Good night all.
Kait
Tuesday, November 26, 2013
Saturday, November 23, 2013
Bay Window
Quote of the Day: "We've reached wigvana" -The lovely Kari and I on the perfection of Olivia's wig.
Quote of the Day II: "Is it a problem that I'm more attracted to mac and cheese than I am to human beings?" -The Queer Council on gay dating.
I think I may have mentioned this previously, but I do all my writing (also eating, homeworking, movie watching, visiting, etc.) from the same chair at our table in front of this lovely bay window that overlooks the street. I like to open all the windows because the view is very "Romantic Manhattan." We've got a clear shot down an ally, phone lines connecting rows of brownstone apartments, tree limbs that dangle in front of the glass, property fences, chain link fences, street signs, and the occasional arrest or drunk college student. Sometimes all in one unlucky person. I like being in this room because it's like being in a submarine or Star Trek spaceship. The ultimate fly on the wall position. Which I love. At least until I realize that windows are windows and as much as I enjoy the view, anyone can see in. Literally the neighborhood can see me live out 50% of my home life. The other 50% is spent sleeping. Usually with the window open so really it's not an improvement.
One day this summer I had just biked home from work on a blazing hot day. I have very little tolerance for shifts in temperature. I am happy as a clam from upper 50s to mid 70s. Chicago gets this for like, a week and a half every year. Maybe. I come from a long line of sweaty ladies, so this whole physical activity in the sun in the heat in my Orthodox Jewish garb absolutely necessitates stripping down to a bra and shorts within seconds of entering my apartment. I made myself a bite to eat and sat in my spot to wind down and have dinner. I didn't realize until about a half hour in. Made direct eye contact with a woman walking her dog. To that, I was wearing a pink bra with a bow on it. Because when your chest measures smaller than it did in 5th grade, you buy your bras in the children's section of target. Pink is inevitable. And they all have bows. If you try to cut off the bows, sometimes the bra breaks in half. So you cut your losses. You can counter act this by making a point to not wear any pink on the outside of your body ever.
Tonight the bay window is looking pretty damn handsome. I've developed an obsessive love of candles and have some fancy holiday ones in clear display. To add ambiance, I plugged in my roommate's strings of colored lights. It looks like I'm on a date, with myself, in the red light district. I dig it. It's freezing so I've busted out my favorite waffle shirt. It was my brothers and it has a yellow anarchy symbol spray painted on the front. And it doesn't smell like sweaty dude. So that's nice. And anyone who might be stalkerishly watching me has seen me down two bottles of tea in the past hour. Because there's nothing wrong with being really hydrated.
And we have bloody hands on our window pane. The end.
This is how to not write your directors notebook. Because when you put your mind to it, (not when you're gushing about your favorite window) you're a much better writer than you are a director.
Good night friends,
Kait
Quote of the Day II: "Is it a problem that I'm more attracted to mac and cheese than I am to human beings?" -The Queer Council on gay dating.
I think I may have mentioned this previously, but I do all my writing (also eating, homeworking, movie watching, visiting, etc.) from the same chair at our table in front of this lovely bay window that overlooks the street. I like to open all the windows because the view is very "Romantic Manhattan." We've got a clear shot down an ally, phone lines connecting rows of brownstone apartments, tree limbs that dangle in front of the glass, property fences, chain link fences, street signs, and the occasional arrest or drunk college student. Sometimes all in one unlucky person. I like being in this room because it's like being in a submarine or Star Trek spaceship. The ultimate fly on the wall position. Which I love. At least until I realize that windows are windows and as much as I enjoy the view, anyone can see in. Literally the neighborhood can see me live out 50% of my home life. The other 50% is spent sleeping. Usually with the window open so really it's not an improvement.
One day this summer I had just biked home from work on a blazing hot day. I have very little tolerance for shifts in temperature. I am happy as a clam from upper 50s to mid 70s. Chicago gets this for like, a week and a half every year. Maybe. I come from a long line of sweaty ladies, so this whole physical activity in the sun in the heat in my Orthodox Jewish garb absolutely necessitates stripping down to a bra and shorts within seconds of entering my apartment. I made myself a bite to eat and sat in my spot to wind down and have dinner. I didn't realize until about a half hour in. Made direct eye contact with a woman walking her dog. To that, I was wearing a pink bra with a bow on it. Because when your chest measures smaller than it did in 5th grade, you buy your bras in the children's section of target. Pink is inevitable. And they all have bows. If you try to cut off the bows, sometimes the bra breaks in half. So you cut your losses. You can counter act this by making a point to not wear any pink on the outside of your body ever.
Tonight the bay window is looking pretty damn handsome. I've developed an obsessive love of candles and have some fancy holiday ones in clear display. To add ambiance, I plugged in my roommate's strings of colored lights. It looks like I'm on a date, with myself, in the red light district. I dig it. It's freezing so I've busted out my favorite waffle shirt. It was my brothers and it has a yellow anarchy symbol spray painted on the front. And it doesn't smell like sweaty dude. So that's nice. And anyone who might be stalkerishly watching me has seen me down two bottles of tea in the past hour. Because there's nothing wrong with being really hydrated.
And we have bloody hands on our window pane. The end.
This is how to not write your directors notebook. Because when you put your mind to it, (not when you're gushing about your favorite window) you're a much better writer than you are a director.
Good night friends,
Kait
Monday, November 18, 2013
Tattoos.
Aye.
I have too much work to be writing this blog. Yolo. (oof, I have no intent of bringing that back. so you know.)
But I have been writing academic stuff all night and it's starting to get real scatterbrained. So I'm switching to this.
I think I want to get a tattoo for my brother. It's super cliche and stuff, but there's something appealing about having a symbol or phrase permanently etched into my skin that reminds me of him. It's like keeping his spirit alive. Sort of. Also it's bad ass and he would support it a hundred percent I think.
Problem is, I'm not quite as impulsively ballsy as Nick was and I definitely have a better understanding of consequences than he did. Like what if I hate it in like 10 years. I'm kinda stuck. Also I pass out nearly every time I give blood because, despite my expert covering of the anxiety needles give me, needles cutting my skin really freaks my shit.
Despite that, I've had several ideas in the past 3 years. And here they are.
1) "Those you love and lost still walk behind you" etched into my foot.
I have too much work to be writing this blog. Yolo. (oof, I have no intent of bringing that back. so you know.)
But I have been writing academic stuff all night and it's starting to get real scatterbrained. So I'm switching to this.
I think I want to get a tattoo for my brother. It's super cliche and stuff, but there's something appealing about having a symbol or phrase permanently etched into my skin that reminds me of him. It's like keeping his spirit alive. Sort of. Also it's bad ass and he would support it a hundred percent I think.
Problem is, I'm not quite as impulsively ballsy as Nick was and I definitely have a better understanding of consequences than he did. Like what if I hate it in like 10 years. I'm kinda stuck. Also I pass out nearly every time I give blood because, despite my expert covering of the anxiety needles give me, needles cutting my skin really freaks my shit.
Despite that, I've had several ideas in the past 3 years. And here they are.
1) "Those you love and lost still walk behind you" etched into my foot.
- Self explanatory. And it's on my foot and it's about walking, get it? And it's from my favorite musical. Problems: Is it creepy if I ever get cast in said musical and just happen to have a really heavy, personal show from the quote permanently inked into my foot? Also Nick didn't like musicals. So there's that. Also the question of font choice.
2) "Life is what happens to you when you're out making other plans" painfully scarred into my shoulder blade.
- Because if I were a little more relaxed, it would be my motto. Actually, this one is mostly just for me. But it is a quote from the Beatles. And Nick liked the Beatles. They weren't his favorite band, but I am definitely not getting something written by a death metal band. Nope. Nope. Side note, I really don't like the song "Beautiful Boy" (where the quote is from) so the regret potential is like, a 7 or 8. Out of 10.
3) A small autumn maple leaf on the underside of my forearm.
- Location: There's a lot to be said for having something beautiful and red on my arm. I like that there's no words, symbols seems better to explain. Fall is my favorite season. Nick died in October and I remember coming home for the funeral and loving how bright the leaves were. I associate fall leaves with the woods between the high school and Nick's elementary school. Also with marching band. Nick was a very talented musician and we were in marching band together for a year. Some of my favorite memories of him are from band and I really like the idea of incorporating music into this. but I don't want to do a musical symbol. My only concerns are that from far away it will look like a scrape or something. So I was thinking about going for a more brownish color? I dunno. This is the front runner so far.
Also, just in general, it might be problematic to get a dead brother tattoo of any sort. I mean, it might be a bit of a bummer. If not for me, for anyone who knows who it symbolizes. Mulling it over. Please feel free to give suggestions, advice, ideas? Yep yep. Ugh. I should maybe get back to my directing notebook.
Yeah no, I can't leave you on that heavy a note. That's just not responsible. So I gave myself a haircut yesterday. Not like my typical scissors to bangs, I buzzed it. Not bald, mom you can relax now. Mostly I have myself a shattily done fade. But I'm diggin it. I just need to fix the top. Cause I have literally one curl that is just popping out of my head. And, while I love this, it's a tad out of place.
Kait
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)