This is Me.
I hate when I am looking at a new blog and I can't figure out whose it is because they don't have pictures of themselves anywhere on it. So, I'll be the blogger that avoids that. Here's a picture of me, semi-recent. I'm the one on the left. You know, Katie Sue Sullivan. ha kay.
A New Game
Lately I've started this game where I type some random word into google images and I find a picture of something I like or think is beautiful or interesting. I often even end up learning something, imagine that, because it peaks my interest in a topic I know nothing about or a picture I've never seen which I then end up investigating. But anywho, this is one of the results for the word "vast." As it turns out Vast is a band and this is one of their album covers, but I think its a very intriguing work of art. Enjoy. :)
Hmm . . . thoughts.
Sometimes I wish I was better at being faithful and true. Not only to myself or my beliefs or my religion or my school but even little things in my life. I love globes. They are beautiful and they make the world seem so big. Yet it is wonderful that anywhere is a plane ride away. I love that about the era we live in. There is so much beauty to see and if I work for it, I can see most of it. What a wonderful blessing. Human beings are the most incredible creatures. We have such incredible capacities to love, create, work. Too many people are afraid of being silly. I hate inhibition. It stifles so many interesting and wonderful things yet to be done or said or made. I have the habit of talking too much. I should work on trusting silence. I came to the realization on my blog sidebars that I always update them and I take a lot of pride in my sidebars. The only bummer is I use my blog as a journal and when I want to print this off all my past sidebars won't be there. That may be something I would have liked to have later. Seeing what kind of poetry and music I liked, the things I'm grateful for. It makes me think I need to start a REAL journal. The only problem with that is I feel when I have an actual book I'm supposed to sit down and write in, it feels obligatory. And I don't enjoy it as much. I don't know why I like blogging so much and I've never been a good journal keeper, but there it is. I think I get to add pictures and color and interesting things with little effort and its just downright faster. But ya know, whatev. "In this life we can not do great things, only small things with great love." -Mother Teresa
Aw . . . . neat.
All the things in this picture are purple. I like the color purple. In fact, the actual real, ya know, hue, and the book. Consider this my tribute to the color purple. The tone, not novel. And we'll throw in a tribute to Barney as well. I was always a fan growing up. Why not? And he's purple too. Theme. Done. Deal. Set. Stone. Match. Point. So on. So forth.
Beets
Delicious, almost crunchy but not quite. The sensation is not so much a crunch as it is a snap. The unique bleeding purple heart color which taints all the other foods it touches. The unique, mild taste--distinct, but . . . simple. I love beets. A lot. Let me loose on a salad bar and half the plate WILL be beets. It's intense. At the UVU cafeteria I always get the salad bar with half a plate of beets and it stinks because I think I spend tons on the beets. (The salad is priced by weight and beets are super heavy--WAY annoying) Without the beets the salad would cost a bundle less I think. But totally worth it.
Old Grouch?
I think I'm getting grumpy in my old age. In August I'll be two DECADES old. And I can feel it. I'm less patient, I know what types of people I work with well and enjoy being around more. I used to be the girl that could get along with EVERYBODY. Have I lost that? I seem to be continually struggling with the eternal question of where the line is? Where do I draw between the things I need and the altruism I need to have in my heart for others? I don't want to be a grumpy gills; I've always prided myself on NOT being that. But why does it seem the older I get the more complicated things get? I get tired sometimes--I'm a good tipper, I let people come in front of me when I'm driving, I make eye contact and shake hands with people I meet. And it's not that I'm not blessed. I would never in a thousand years think that. I'm too blessed, even. I don't know why Heavenly Father bestows so much love on me, but I know He does. It's not that. It's the little things. I get tired of karma not working out on the little things. Wow, that sounds whiney. What am I saying--I HATE whiners. And I am SO being one. That's dumb. I AM ornery. It's not that the little things worked out more before, it's that I didn't need them to. Woahzers, Miss Sullivan, we have some attitude adjustments to make, don't we? I have five months to welcome the big 2-0 with a bang.(an optimistic one) I'm gonna do that.
What A Lucky Girl
This weekend I had a long talk with an old friend. For the sake of the story we'll say it's a male. And for the sake of the story we'll call that male say . . . Byron. Yes Byron is good. Byron told me all about plans he has for the future and thoughts going through his head, concerns in his life--while I just stayed quiet and listened. I sincerely was just trying to be supportive and therefore commented as little as possible. It's when I speak I cause problems. Byron is a good good guy; truly top notch. He and I are not meant to be, so don't think anything of this, but sitting there chatting with him, listening to him chat at me rather, I just remember thinking a number of things but predominantly, "What a lucky girl." It will be a very blessed special woman that gets his heart and his life and I'm happy for them both. Whoever she ends up being with he. I'd like to be a girl that someone will look at and think, "What a lucky guy." I'll work on that.
