i think i’ll go home and mull this over before i cram it down my throat

28 02 2006

i pretty much avoid ever admitting that natalie portman could be right, but when she told zack braff that “this song will change your life,” she fucking knew what she was saying.

“kim, there’s something about you. i know this sounds weird, but wherever you go, you bring this… i don’t know what to call it… this… like, balance to your surroundings.”
thank you cynara. i’ve never actually felt like a libra before. well, aside from my inate inability to make a decision, that is.

i think it meant more to me hearing this friday night knowing that she had to translate her thoughts from portuguese before speaking them to me in english.

why, then, dear cosmos, have my emotional innards gone all to hell over the last few days?

i’m definitely looking forward to spring break. it will be nice to sleep on my sister’s couch and spend the week smelling like newborn baby and not espresso.

and flying to chigaco with the captain is going to be wonderfully fun in that “please don’t get me arrested” kind of way. i think we’re going to try to get our wings. hell yes for acting like a three year old.

damn, i need to cuddle.





27 02 2006

god, kim, you’re a fuckhead. you weren’t even talking about you. how did you end up feeling lame?

you were right about the minute details, though. so lay off the dramatics. no one cares.

i swear, sometimes i can be such a dumbcunt.





night and dayyyy

20 02 2006

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roommate and i each purchased the ugliest shoes we could find yesterday. it is the only way that we even remotely made the fact that i had to buy an entirely new work outfit bearable. hers are green and yellow, mine pink. i also bought a pair in black. those are my new work shoes.

midterms start this week. i hate that more than imaginable, even though i don’t have one until friday. the fact that i work thirty hours this week really doesn’t help much, either. blarg. complaincomplaincomplain.

jesus christ, i have to pee again. i swear, my bladder is shrinking.

um, yeah. that about covers it. just wanted to share my new shoes, in all their hideous glory. stay tuned, folks, it could be an interesting week.





me and my ego, wherever we go people tiptoe by…

17 02 2006

*on my way out of class to grab a quick snack before coming back for the second half*
“kim?”
“hmm?”
“thank you.”
“what?”
“thank you. i like your presence here.”
“… thank you.”
–prof and me, respectively.

today was tolerable. not great, but not bad, and i guess not bad is right where i want to be. it wasn’t a skinny day, but it was definitely a less-fat-than-usual day. overall, i’m not feeling a constant sting of depression, so happy or not, i’ll take it.

i really need to stop being so attracted to… attractive… people. it’s pretty odds-on that i will never wind up with t. mcsexypants, or that one kind of short gorgeous girl with the curly hair and big brown eyes who was wearing an “i like girls who like girls” shirt the first time i saw her, or mel from sirsy, or anyone else who was the victim of one of the unfathomably huge crushes i’ve had over the last semester. reality is that i’m probably more suited for that “andre the giant minus the curls” fellow who is always wearing shorts and standing around with his mouth half-opened.

little miss “i’m from venezuala and i can’t figure out how people get mugged” continues to piss me off beyond reason. i would chalk this up to a strong dislike/fear of competition… would that is, if she weren’t so incredibly stupid. she got pretty well pwned by crazy pete last night, though, and the sour look on her face for the rest of the meeting was enough to turn over everything else that went wrong yesterday. i’m evil.

i need to stop seeing people from high school around campus. it’s confusing the hell out of me. i see “jorri heil” almost every other day, and today in the dh i swear i saw “kris harrington.” then again, i also thought that i saw “jarod” in the transportation building last year when he should have been in iraq, so maybe i’m just going crazy.





i was wondering if you were looking after your most valuable possession.. your mind..

13 02 2006

for days now, my horoscope has been nothing but “you’re in love, you’re in love, you’re in love.” thanks, universe. i’ve never felt more mocked.

something’s off with today. not whole. i feel like i’m staring at my life through a fishbowl. not a goldfish bowl, either, but one of those creepy aquariums you see at chinese restaurants that are packed full of fish that may or may not be from mars.

some people call me the space cowboy.

i’m not me. not today. i’ve tried to do a long, hard, introspective, deep… whatever.. look at myself, and i don’t like what i see to the point of denying that i exist. everyone i’ve crossed today has been extraordinary in some way. some special way. some amazingly glorious and special way. i’m slowly realizing that it’s not the product of a diseased mind, i really am just… average. i’m just kim. i’m not extraordinary. i’m not going to be extraordinary. not beautiful. i will always and forever just… exist. no profound impact on society, no fame, no fortune.

bdrisch put a photo of me up on facebook that i was very annoyed with at first. it is a terrible photo of me. or rather, i thought it was a terrible photo of me. but it’s not a terrible photo of me. it’s just… a photo. of me. that’s who i am. that’s really who i am. i am gapped and beiged dull teeth. i am a fat head, with doubled chins. i am a squishy ass. i am frizzythick unruly hair. i am dull clogged skin. i am an overweight stomach riddled with vertical red lines. i am soft arms and legs and back; i am covered with moles. i am pre-pubecent small breasts resting on a footballplayerlarge frame. i am not nothing. clearly, i have mass, i take up space, i am matter, i am something. what i am not… is something spectacular.

some call me the gangster of love.

thought about purging today. thought long, thought hard. in the end it all boiled down, once again, to an intense hatred for vomiting. and so i sit, against my better judgment, still digesting what little food i have time for any more. which is somehow, always, more than i’d like.

wicked insomnia last night… perhaps if i stop fucking around on the internet, i can finish my work with naptime left to spare. how is it that no matter how busy i’d perfer to be, i always find time to fuck around? i need a break. a day off, away from this place. from my life. then, perhaps, i can jump back in as dedicated as i was at the beginning of the year. i can feel my giveafuck faltering.

and some people… call me maurice.





11 02 2006

i’m sick of my mum and my sister bitching to me about each other like there’s anything i can do about it. you’ve both hated each other for this long… why do you keep putting up with it?

and you both know goddamned well that if i’m getting bitched at about anything, i’m prone to thinking that it’s my fault. i internalize everything, and you both fucking know it.

you know where that comes from? that comes from spending every night from around the time when tina hit preteendom, to around the time she moved out the first time, crying myself to sleep. because you both thought it productive to scream at eachother three feet down the hall from my bedroom. it’s a small house, i know. the room tina’s old room is now the one i reside in, located directly across the hall from mum and dad’s room. my room is right next to that. i understand that for convinience’s sake, it was easiest for you two to just step out of your bedrooms and be face to face.

what you failed to take into account was that as a six year old, i didn’t sleep very soundly. screams tended to wake me up, especially when they’re screams that are so filled with hate as the ones you two so commonly produce. to this day, i cannot handle anyone yelling, about anything, let alone even thinking back.

people wonder why i’m so close with dad. it’s because while you two were so wrapped up in whatever bullshit you found to kvetch about tonight, he was sitting with me on my bed assuring me that everyone would be okay, no one was leaving, no one would be hurt, momma and tina just got mad at each other sometimes.

so many of those nights i was terrified that the screams would travel the three feet down the hall and find themselves in my room, directed at me. eventually they did. tina’d moved out, and i’d grown up some, and i’ll be damned if i couldn’t manage to fuck everything up. unlike tina, though, i lacked the ability to fight back. whenever mum would scream at me, i’d just start crying… completely trashing any hope of rationalization. i still can’t even talk to her on the phone when she’s upset.. about anything.. i just start crying.

i don’t call home often. maybe there’s a subconscious reason for that, but frankly, it’s because i’m busy. sorry. i’m busy trying to prove myself to you, so really, if you’d kindly just go shove it, that’d be great.

i’ve always tried to be good at something.. anything. so far, it seems that i’m only really good at disappointing people. now, mum, i know you weren’t mad at me tonight, but tina called me before i called you. she was bitching about you, and then you started bitching about her, and i couldn’t handle it anymore. you both always trap me in the middle of it no matter how many times i tell you that i wish i knew what to do to help, there’s nothing i can do, and, as i tell tina, frankly, you’re both wrong.

i lost it though, didn’t i? i always lose it. i’m weak like that. fuck, i’m just weak. i know that. i’m sorry. i try and try and only fuck up, and i hate being turned to when i know that i’m powerless to do anything, because that only fuels my worthlessness, helplessness.

i’m sorry that i’m of no help to anything, and i’m sorry that i always manage to say stupid shit that only makes it worse.

i’m sorry.





things kim hates:

8 02 2006

(in no particular order.)
- pirated software not working, and then claiming to be “expired” after several re-installs.
- people who have a problem with pirating software. i’m fucking poor, you conglomerate assholes.
- free trials taking forever to download. on a t1 connection.
- the line “if you like what you see, buy the full version.” what they don’t say is that the full version is 849 bucks… plus shipping.
- advertising for a “package” software deal, which is really only better because they cut the shipping… for $2,000
- adobe.
- not having my own camera.
- thinking about my future.
- the computer in the evvy office being older than the sun, and thus not being very useful for much of anything (aside from listening to music on).
- my own computer, at the moment.
- time, and that it continues to resist conforming to my needs.
- people who say that apple jacks don’t taste like apples.
- tourists.
- the free trial software not working. i swear to god, heads are gonna fuckin’ roll.
- have i listed adobe yet? yeah. i hate them. the entire fucking corporation. you can all line up and start kissing my ass right.. about.. now.
- that light in the evvy office that spazzes out and then makes a lot of noise.
- the keyboard in the evvy office. impossible to type on.
- the entire evvy office.
- being hungry.
- being hungry all the time.
- having no time for meals.
- freshmen. especially this year’s freshmen.
- uh, politics… and shit.

don’t worry. there’s more. there’s always more. i’m a hateful person.

(edit 2152: good things too…
- fielding a call from christopher walkin’s agent/producer/manager/whatever, and pretending that the evvy office was huge and that i had to actually look for someone. i even got to put him on hold for a few seconds.
- eating.
- avid.
- being a media major. even with the ups and downs.
- pajama pants. and herbert. and blankets. and my pillow. the four most comfortable things in the world, save for a cuddly boy-type-creature.)





i’m hungry, but i’m sick of peanut butter sangwiches

5 02 2006

“hey, i like your socks. where’d you get ‘em.”
“uh, thanks.. they were, uh, a christmas present.”
“bend over and touch your toes. can i see your butt?”
“um, no .”
“oh, okay. you’re really cute.”
“you’re really drunk. please go away from me now.”
– fat bald man on the street and me, respectively

all-in-all, i guess that it wasn’t so bad a day in kimland. we went to limelight for carrie’s birthday, and the captain regaled us with a little j-to-the-c (johnny cash, you simpletons) and some well-played “sister christian.”

inside jokes in public places are fabulous.

i thought for a while that all signs were pointing towards b’s being there. someone sang steve miller’s “the joker,” and it reminded me of an exchange we once had… “well, hello maurice.” “i prefer gangster of love.” “then space cowboy it is.”

shortly thereafter, someone did the humpty dance. sadly, this was not redneck karoke, so it didn’t have quite the impact it should have. at least two of my friends had honestly never heard the song before. for shame.

two of my friends have made gay porn. one of them is straight. and the porn? oh, it’s fabulous.

… as is chocolate cake city getting calls from mtv and being name-dropped on cnn for “brokeback to the future.” (click the link, go to “videos,” and then to “brokeback to the future” under “spring ‘06.” watch, rejoice, repeat.)

further proof that this school… kicks major arse.

things that weren’t good about today, but didn’t happen in kimland either:
betty friedan died, on her 85th birthday.
grandpa munster died.
sheryl crow and lance armstrong split. (i think it’s that whole, one nut thing. personal opinion.)
people still give a shit about the grammys. more specifically, dance music grammys. ugh.
courtney love’s not under house arrest anymore, basically.

and, um… other stuff too.

good night.

(kimnote: i have a favor to ask of all of you. a very dear friend of mine has a friend who was in a terrible car accident on friday morning. i don’t know him, so it doesn’t matter in the least that you probably don’t either. please, keep kyle t and his friends and family in your prayers/thoughts/good vibes. his recovery could be long and difficult, and he’s going to need all the cosmic support we can muster.)





oh, emerson… (a semester in quotes(” ”))

4 02 2006

disclaimer: these are not in chronological order. sometime around october, i noticed that i kept putting the funny things people in my life said down on scraps of paper. realising that these scraps would never lead to infamy, i came up with this end-of-the-semester post, that i’m now creating in february. screw you, i’ve been busy. i’m sure there were many, many more… i just didn’t have a pen. unlike lloyd dobbler. (thirty points to whomever actually gets that.)

and now, on with the hilarity.

“i only smoked pot once… and i think i did it wrong.” – the captain

“would it be extremely pretentious of me to use the word ‘countenance’?” – loserface in va101
“yes. it was extremely pretentious of you to ask.” – me

“do i look like the kind to wear gold chains? those are love beads, man.” – prof. shipps

“i read one of her essays, and it just… sucked…” – part of a convo held by two teachers, overheard in the dining hall, presumably about exams

“when was the last time you had a vagina?” – me
“well, when was the last time you learned to play piano?” – kid-across-the-hall

“so… that’s, like, the phlegm of the frozen yogurt machine?” – roommate

“who should she be if she goes?” – wifey
“what?” – lezjew
“who should she be if she goes?” – wifey
“what?” – lezjew
“who should she be if she goes?” – wifey
“i can what?” – lezjew
“who… should… she… be… if… she… goes?” – wifey
“oooooohhhh… i dunno.” – lezjew

“i just need to be fucked into oblivion.” – roommate

“if you know everything, then i cannot teach you anything.” – prof. brown

“are you impersonating me again?” – roommate

“if you have good grades, you could be doing anything in this city, and your parents will never know.” – prof. brown

“i wonder if they have a portable ice cream novelty.” – roommate, re: 7-11

“that was a cheese of discovery, not a cheese of lament.” – roommate

“last i checked, i was a heterosexual man.” – crazy pete

“(muttering)… c.. b.. a..” – the captain
“what?” – colburninator
“i just wanted to make sure that i could say the alphabet backwards sober, just in case i was asked to do it drunk.” – the captain

“i’ve put some sort of half-assed penalties in here if you don’t.” – prof.shipps

“the last thing in the world americans would ever stop doing is drinking alcohol.” – prof.brown

“i don’t know how this is any different from looking at a buick!” – prof.shipps

“i see in full color, but it’s all, to use a technical term, fucked up.” – prof.shipps

“i take a look at the klan. now, who’s the center of power? white men. we blame them for a lot. and we’re ususally right. aren’t there more women in america? aren’t there more white women in america? then why aren’t you all running the show?! see… that shows how evil they really are.” – prof.brown

“if it looks like a piece of redwood beam cut into a 4ft block and stood on end in a gallery, congratulations, you’ve been paying attention.” – prof.shipps

“it doesn’t get simpler and smoother as it gets older. trust me. if i knew you well enough, i’d take off my shirt.” – prof.shipps

“steve shipps, the living party game. give me a few beers and start asking, ‘hey, what color is this?’.” – prof.shipps

“i dare say that none of you took a class on ‘how to be a racist,’ yet all of you know a racist! so, where the hell are they coming from?” – prof.brown

“don’t you think kim will hear us?” – roommate’s boyfriend
“fuck her.” – roommate

“it’s like one of those contests… ‘in 25 words or less, tell me why north korea will not blow us the hell up.’ ” – prof.brown

“sure. or… that could just be a rotwieller with a glamour problem.” – prof.shipps

“there isn’t a teacher in the world who posseses the kind of uncontionable oversimplification that i have.” – prof.shipps

“do you have to quote verbatim all the parts of the constitution? no. you just have to quote all the important parts.” – prof.brown

“for example, if we had a town that was all male, and the government was all male–” prof.brown
“it wouldn’t exist.” – girl
“well, look at the smurfs.” – another girl
“no, even the smirfs needed a woman.” – me

“sorry folks. smoke ‘em if ya got ‘em.” – prof.shipps

“well, you’re in luck! there will be drag queens. and there will be rent! and i will be there. you’re going. now pass the salt.” – wifey

“is this a way of explaining why we only have white male presidents?” – girl
“no, they’re the only ones who are qualified.” – prof.brown

“why are babies so disproportionate and weird looking?” – girl, re: a painting, probably a rococo
“i asked the same thing when my son was born.” – prof.shipps

“all political movements could, and were, expressed in terms of women with their breasts exposed.” – prof.shipps

“and i’m like, what? this guy just moved a little wood here. that’s what the art world was like. one guy would do something and hang it in a gallery and his little art buddies would go, “whoooaaaaa… ” and everyone on the street was like, “what?!” ” – prof.shipps

“i’m going to assume, and this could be a stretch, that there are intelligent racists out there somewhere.” – prof.brown

“this can also be dismissed as just a bunch of bullshit.” – prof.shipps

“the kind of painting that really pissed off your grandparents.” – prof.shipps, re: jackson pollack

“there’s not some little kkk group sitting around going, ‘ooohhh… we gotta get some white questions in here.’ i wouldn’t know a white question if i saw one.” – prof.brown
“name the cast of friends.” – girl, from the back of the room

“you have to leave early, too? and you have to leave early. goddammit, i have to leave early. i’m late already! shit!” – prof.shipps

“when i went to college in the 60’s all one was expected to say about art was, ‘oh, wow, man… that’s really cool,’ or conversely, ‘oh, wow, man… that really sucks.’ anything eles was suspect, especially in grad school.” – prof.shipps

“i’m not blaming white men for all the evils in the world, however responsible they may be.”- prof.brown

lament on your own how they’re all from teachers, and then realize that aside from work, that’s where i spend most of my time.

in all, a decent semester, and i’m hoping that this one can measure up.





back to square one… with three less people

4 02 2006

i think it’s time for me to find a new major.

NOT ONLY was sin city NOT nominated for a best visual fx oscar, but every other category had at least five nominations? what’s the deal with nominating only three for vfx, and having none of them be orgasmic to watch?!

ugh. death.

i’m usually not tremendously excited for the oscars. to tell the truth, i can’t think of the last time i actually watched the show. seems like this year’s not going to be any different. the only thing i have to look forward to is that wallace and gromit: the curse of the were-rabbit was nominated for best animated feature (which, clearly, it was).

maybe i could have more of a giveafuck about it if i’d seen more of the movies that are nominated, but i didn’t see many of them because they looked lame. very boring oscar year, for sure.

*is depressed about the apparent state of her future.*

my mother sent me this link tonight. (fyi: yes, i talk to my mom online, and yes i know how weird that is.) she must think that i’m really fucked in the head (god knows where she got that silly notion) because as soon as i said, “holy shit, i love it” she replied, “i knew you would.”

but c’mon… it comes in a set of two. two. best kitchen accessories ever.

we’ve had numerous apartmenting hangups over the past month or so, none of which i’ve outlined here, and all of which have made me depressed beyond comprehension. turns out today that lezjew’s parents are forcing her to back out on us, leaving just roommate and the captain to head up this place. if she wants to live off-campus it can only be with, at most, one other person, and it has to be in beacon hill.

it seems that roommate and i are by our onesies, which is mostly okay, because we have the coolest realtor in the free world, and she’s pretty much bent backwards over our stove to help us with this.

i mean it, she will be our new bff. oh, fuck… she’ll be our bff4eva. her, and her bubbly disposition and her glitter eye-shadow and her sparkly stickers and her two-inch-tall-stuffed-reindeer of an assistant.

dinner parties. for serious. all the time.

and as you all should already know, my door’s always open and my phone’s always on.