Thursday, July 30, 2009


A few days have passed. Nothing too much worthy of note has occurred. But, nonetheless, recording things helps clear the mind and focus the thoughts.

I was having a discussion with my best friend the clumsy cook today and we brought up an interesting observation: Why do we force ourselves to do things just for the sake of doing them? The topic was not that in specifics, but the idea was generally in that direction.

To discuss.

I am a girl who is quite content with sitting on a chair with some good television, another simple occupying task, and another person for company. I do not see any reason why that situation is frowned upon. In a town as small as Manhattan is, finding things to occupy your time is very difficult when you are on an excruciatingly tight budget. So I enjoy much simpler things. Baking. Television. Swimming. Board games. Conversation. But, whenever I want to spend time with anyone besides the clumsy cook, these activities always create a tension. The company often feels the need to be doing something. I am not going to get all gussied up, waste my gas and my money on pointless activities just so that the other person can feel like they did something worthwhile. If they were truly my friend, then the pleasure of each other's company would satisfy all needs and the activity would mean much less. I'm tired of feeling obligated to think of some exciting activity to partake in just to kill time that I would much rather spend doing un-demanding, no-frills pursuits. Why other people feel that constant tug, I will never understand. I am easily fulfilled with the above list of pastimes. Clumsy cook agrees. She seems to be the only one around here with some common sense. Which must be why we live on the same brainwave.

In other news...

Clumsy cook and I made a pie today. Triple chocolate with a mixed berry glaze sauce. Pictures to come soon. Another magnificent dish.

I sold a piece of my history today for some much needed money. I wish my mother believed in garage sales. I would probably pocket more if I sold in bulk. Oh well. You live, you learn.

My job as maid will be completed in less than a week. I hunger for the last hours of this wretched job to be here. My next place of employment will surely be better than this. Picking up turkey droppings would be enjoyable in comparison. We shall see.

I replaced the strings on my hollow, wooden, creature of music. The e-string broke a long time back and I finally found the moment to buy a replacement. Tunes are a flyin' from my finger tips.

Come to think of it, three things of importance to me were fixed today. The Millennium Falcon has been having some trouble with its brakes. My maintenance friend told me to replace the brake fluid. A simple an economical fix. When I stood in front of the hood, popped and exposed, I was proud that I new where to poke and where to poor to fix the problem. A triumph for the woman kind. Thank goodness. My mobile device was also replaced today. After months of reading messages backwards or askew, I finally got a replica without the kinks in the system.

All is well in the house of Curly Kansas.

Monday, July 27, 2009


My mother did something very nice for me this evening. She bought me a whole new set of cooking pans and a griddle for my new dwelling. She also gave me some hand-me-downs from her own kitchen in hopes of furthering my culinary capabilities. I just need a few more pieces and my cookware set shall be complete. I haven't updated my recipe book in a while though I am starting on a very cute apron pattern I created that will hopefully turn out alright.

When I think about where I was last year at this time I feel as though I have aged a millennia. This past year has matured me and my parts have grown cynical. I look at the digression my life has taken and feel the need to place some blame. Sadly, I feel as though there is no one to blame but myself. The nice part about being a pessimist is that you are constantly being either proven right or pleasantly surprised. When faced with optimism it is hard for me not to well up with rage. It didn't always used to be this way. A positive outlook was the first thing I tasted. Opportunity was at my window, tap, tap, tapping; inviting me for a cup of coffee and a nice long chat. As I turned to look and reply with an eager 'yes', he ran at the sight of me. I do not know where he went but it seems to me he isn't coming back for a visit anytime soon.

As I sit here, high as a kite, I just want to talk. My white toothed friend is far from here and I wish it weren't so. He seemed to be the only one capable of understanding my constant chatter. Now, as alone as I am, I rarely speak in large nuggets of thought. Thus, when I do encounter a moment where I am in a situation appropriate enough to speak, I do, a lot. I think it frightens people how many words I have stored up. White tooth man was constantly there for me, the release valve on my pressure cooker. The only one that ever fit. I'm tired of feeling like a nut-case every time the words overflow in public. It is like Auntie Flow in white pants. Shameful. No one cares enough about what I have to say. As Marla said in Fight Club, "They are just waiting for their turn to speak".

One thing relates to another which relates to another, all in this metaphysical world we have created. The hardest part is figuring out where I am related.

Friday, July 24, 2009


The past two days have been a bit more interesting.

First and foremost I am not going to work today. I know, due to my money situation, that everyday counts, but I just really needed a day all to myself.

I saw an old friend recently. She has remained the same person she was when I first met her. I don't consider that to be a positive characteristic. I still care about her as she is but after almost seven lengthy years of knowing her I would hope she had grown a bit, but she refuses to acknowledge reality. She is engaged at barely 19. She has rarely left the state of Kansas which I see as a personal flaw in anyone. It is my belief that one must experience a place outside their comfort zone to truly know where they should be. Personally, I have always known that Kansas was not meant to be my permanent home and this past year in Chicago has confirmed that. Sadly, Kansas is where I will have to stay for now. I will make the best of it.

I had an interesting Wenesday evening. I got a late night phone call from a dear friend. She was just returning to town and invited me to spend some time with her. She had phoned me while I was in the car with my mother. My phone speaker is very loud so often times, anyone in the near vicinity of my phone conversations can hear each and every spoken word. This friend, reminded me to bring a bit of paraphernalia that she knew I owned. My mother heard this and a minor nuke was dropped. She admittedly realized that there wasn't much she could do to control this situation and put up little fight when I refused to discuss the matter further. She has known the activities that I partake in for a while but has never been faced with such a direct confrontation. I apologized to her and went on my way.

Because so much occurred after that point, I shall summarize in a list of moments I deemed memorable.

A deep discussion
An expected rendezvous
A crushing blow to an old memory
A run in with law enforcement
A new felt fear
A loss of artifact
An unexpected rendezvous
Discussions in the driveway
The stealing of the cake
Popping sparkles
An abundance of Pootie Tang
A comforting sleep

I feel there was more to the evening but in the state I experienced it, memory is one thing truly lost.

Thursday was not nearly as eventful but is was a productive day. I am now the proud owner of a new set of glasses. Thankfully ones that actually improve my sight. I am also now the proud leaser of 1/3 of a spectacular house in Lawrence. I was informed that I am permitted to get a cat which brightened my day to no end. My mother feels I should wait to get a pet, but I am going to seize the moment and as soon as funds are in place, a new member will be added to my family. I have already chosen a name. Skywalker, (pictures will eventually be posted).

In my dreams last night, I was a ranger.

Wednesday, July 22, 2009


The Strawberry Meringue cake was a success. I am proud to say it is delicious. I wish there was a taste sensitive computer screen so all could taste the superb blend of flavors in this astounding cake.

More baking to come.


An uneventful day. Not uncommon to me these past months. Work was as it usually was; tedious. I put in my two weeks notice. It feels good to know that my time there is almost through. Sadly, that means I must go through the whole process of finding a new place of employment once more. Only this time in an unfamiliar town, thus, making it that much more difficult. Oh well, 'tis the life of the middle class wanderer.

I have made plans to go out this week. No guarantees that I will follow through. A certain Smile Huse has rubbed his hermit ways onto me. Nonetheless, I will attempt a social time and hope for the best.

I will soon be attempting a Strawberry Meringue cake. The photos are mouthwatering as will be the final product... hopefully.

My eyes are dry. On the evenings where I have no work the following morning, I push myself to stay up late into the evening. Though I usually do nothing out of the ordinary, taking advantage of my freedom proves to be exhilarating. I will sleep in late tomorrow and hopefully wake up to a head full of memorable dreams. Cohesive enough to be put into written word. My dreams lately have been quite strange. I believe that is why it is rare that I remember them upon regaining consciousness.

Speaking of dreams, not in the above specified context, but future dreams. I spoke to my Grandmother today. I fear she is upset with me. I am not at all living up to her expectations as a Grandmother. I turned away from the path I had earlier said to be my chosen career, that of medicine, to choose one of less prestige, film. I spent one year at a somewhat prestigious university, only to transfer out to a less exalted state school. I have body art. I tend to lean towards a Liberal ideology. All of these things not specifically to rebel against her but I believe she takes it all very personally. As if my actions reflect on her (which they do not by any means). She has not been a present enough figure in my life for her sway to have much effect over any of my actions. I care for her all the same though.

As I also care for my mother. Though I have recently discovered her serious codependency issues. Since my father departed for few weeks of distant learning, she has not been very capable of spending time on her own. She constantly insists on my company and has officially overstayed her welcome in my personal schedule. Not that I have too many other pressing matters to attend to, but nonetheless, one can only spend so much time with their mother before the twigs on the family tree begin to bend and break. She offered to reward me with $5 if I would play a game of Scrabble with her. Not as a bet to the winner, but as a bribe. I immediately refused seeing the strangeness in the entire situation. She attempted to play it off as a humorous folly, but I knew otherwise. It is since that I have avoided spending as much time so as to distance myself from any further confrontations with the dragon that breaths the fire of loneliness into my mothers heart. After 20 years of her not being alone, I understand her issues, but that does not make spending time with her against my will any less uncomfortable.

It is time now for me to sleep. I can no longer stay up much past 2am. I am only 19 and age is already clasping its fingers around my internal clock.

Monday, July 20, 2009


I have decided that this will be my sanctuary. My public diary to post everything my heart desires. Whenever, wherever, whatever I feel shall be logged here. I type faster than I write you see. I doubt many will read this so I take comfort in the privacy created by the vastness of the inter-web. Who in their right mind would surf in the waters of my thoughts?

I am currently re-reading a novel. The Unbearable Lightness of Being by Milan Kundera. A fascinating book. Difficult to imagine. I cannot relate much to any character circumstance but Kundera's writing is sufficient enough to allow me to feel their passions as if they were my own. I would recommend this book to anyone who can cherish a tragic, yet twisting plot.

I am also currently re-reading the Harry Potter series. Not quite as unusual as Kundera, but Rowling is quite the story weaver.

After Thursday, I will be buying my ticket to distant lands of pleasure and plenty where I reunite with my missing part.


I just attempted banana bread to certain failure. It turns out that banana bread can fall when surrounded by loud noises. I thought only souffl├ęs fall. Well, baking is a learning process. I relish in the fact that I will have my own kitchen in a few short weeks to bake to my hearts content. Cakes, bars, brownies, cookies, pies, delicious sweets of all sorts. I hope my roommates have hearty appetites. I made a pie this past Thanksgiving that blew all other baking feats out of the water.

I'm hoping to try a few of my own recipes and see if they turn out alright. Blackberries, blueberries, boysenberries, jams, jellies, chocolate, marshmallow. A schmorgisborg of pies.

On a different note, only two more days until I sign my first lease. Quite the leap into the
world of adulthood.


It is raining outside. I am now vindicated from going out. Time alone is one thing I cherish. As the thunder cracks the silence like hammers on eggshells, I wonder if there is something wrong with me. Why must I enjoy time spent away from others more than a social atmosphere? I fear that continued isolation may prove daunting but for now I will leave it as it is. Perhaps when again I am autonomous and out of the home of my biology, I can again embrace the soul of society. Distant relations have kept me a bay with the world. I long for things far from here thus nothing near can satisfy my thirst for company. Less than a month and I will be reunited with a part of myself. I fear that upon coming together with that part, I will regret all that I have come to accept. The longing will be too great and I will again crumble. Forcing myself to return from distant lands will slap reality back into my bitter, blackened heart. My current objective in life is to pass by unnoticed but not forgotten.

Forgetting. above everything else I fear this. As I fly hopeless under the radar, I worry that eventually my blip will no longer bleep in the hearts of my comrades. I will lie, dead and forgotten. Stuck in between this land and that land; a limbo you might call it. Yes, I am in limbo.


I have been doing a lot of picture taking in these recent months. I like to think that the products of my efforts are up to par. I enjoy taking pictures very much and wish I had done more in earlier years. I feel like taking it up as more than just a hobby now would seem strange and unreasonable. It seems as though everyone I know who takes their photography seriously has been doing it fervently for a longer breadth of time than I. But I post a few pictures now in hopes of looking back and feeling proud, regardless of my past experience in the field.

These are just some of the photos from the past couple months. As I take more I will post them here with a more focused idea to each set.

Sunday, July 19, 2009


First and foremost I must begin at the end. The end of the first steps I took in the world of reality. The city is for me. For me to cherish. But now that year is over and the doldrums have set in. A harsher reality. Loneliness. Inadequacy. I have lost myself in tortured decisions. Forced by circumstance into a corner. A corner isolated far from anywhere I recognize. It is easy to grouse but it often falls on deaf ears. It claims itself as a right of passage but I see no others experiencing it. Perhaps it is hidden in their deepest folds but why is it then, that mine are so heavy yet they float right to the surface for all to see and goggle at? I travel back and forth between moments, unstuck in time. Wishing to go back but longing to progress. To be anywhere but this state of uncertainty. One cannot hope to progress if they are living in the past but one can also not progress if their true self is lost somewhere in the past. Forgotten.

Where to go from here.