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This is a journal. |
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This is the most disorganized, piece of *^&^%%, journal you will ever read. And I like it that way |
| I've been having these weird awake dreams that I'm an assassin. I mean, Kill Bill was so 3 years ago, but I still keep having these visions of me with a Katana, decked out in black leather. I mean..what woman doesn't fantasize at least once or FIVE times about being one of the deadliest women in the world? Seriously, you would be lying if you said you didn't. We all saw Alias, come on...I mean, how hot was Jenifer Garner in that red wig. I WANT THAT! I WANT THAT WIG! I want to write a poem about it, it's in the brainstorming area. But if you haven't had a dream about roundhouse kicking an ememy in the face, and then walking away with this straight look on your face, while some angry death metal music plays in the background...then you are missing out. I mean even being a spy...a dangerous spy...with a Katana. (Must not forget the sword) So I've decided...for Halloween, I'm going to be an assassin. I'm going to be the modern, cooler version of Black Mamba. Uma Thurman is ONLY 1 inch shorter than me, and I could pull off a blonde wig when I have to. |
| **Note: So let me just start out by saying that I am now certain, that there is a ghost in this apartment. And he, or she, or mosaic...is certainly not a fan of the rock band Poison. Not at all. So it's Thursday, wow. I didn't realize that until about thirty minutes ago. I think it's funny how I haven't had a clue what day it has been....all week. Nor the time. I actually sat in the semi-dark yesterday for 4 hours, trying not to let...Eileen get the best of me. **Note: Who is Eileen? Thank you for asking, I will tell you. Well, one time I went ghost hunting, which is where I go to a haunted place...and scare the crap out of myself, and the person next to me. Eileen is the spawn of one of those trips. A ghost hitchhiker if you will. I threw a cigarette at her once....I didn't look back to see if she lit it. I think she sleeps on the couch, because I get this weird feeling every time I walk into the living room. I get it now. I had to type it to get it...she sleeps in the living room, to feel...alive? Yeah, there's a ghost. She used to be so warm and friendly too....we never had problems. She might be PMSing, I'll let it go. I will say one thing though...despite her blind hatred for Poison...I'm almost certain the little footsteps I hear when I play Michael Jackson's "Thriller" are her dancing. The girl's got taste. Want to know something funny? The day we picked her up...I asked her what she wanted to listen to, and the CD case opened to Led Zeppelin's-Presence album... Rock n' Roll soul, that one. The new Blohan movie comes out tomorrow. I'm excited, and I think I've solved it already. I've been sitting here...almost all day...trying to figure it out. Because I want to ruin it for other people, you know...that's just fun to do. I'm almost certain it's the boyfriend. It has to be...the silhouettes have the same chin. They do, I swear...Google that shit. So did my mom tell you? The anniversary of her first date is coming up...Jesus Christ, I can't even remember what I had for breakfast this morning let alone my first date. Thats cute though...It's always good when people remember. Borderline "OMG IT'S THE ANNIVERSARY OF THE FIRST TIME WE HELD HANDS IN PUBLIC"....kind of obsession. However they are married, not 14 years old in high school. So I guess it's okay. Jovany asked me if when I go to NYC I wanted to split a 3 bedroom apartment with him and another girl...I can see this. BOTH of them will try to steal my shoes...and my haircare products. It's okay though, at least I know I'll never leave the apartment looking like absolute trash. Jovany: "Katie, where the hell are you going in that last season cardigan?" Me: "To get some coffee?" Jovany: "Not in those heels your not!" I cannot wait :) |
| Has anyone noticed how stand-offish people are on this site? You give them a compliment, and the conversation goes something like... Me: "wow, you write well" Them: "Thank you, I know" ---silence--- Are you serious? There are very few people that I have actually meant that to, when I speak to them. My mother being one of those people, shes incredible...but she doesn't have an ego about her writing. When your poem is SO profound that it takes 9 years just to figure out what your talking about, it doesn't mean you can write well. It means you can waste my time and everyone else's, Congratulations. Usually I just try to start a conversation to see just how much of a pretentious mess the other person is. I guarantee you if someone complimented me, I would sit there and talk to them, and bounce ideas off of them, and make FRIENDS with them...not just ignore them like they are mediocre compared to your greatness. Unless you are making millions from your poems, or are even a recognized author...take the time to talk to the "little people" |
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