Rainy Days











I loooovvvveee the rain. I think for a long time I've felt that I shouldn't love it, because the "dreary rainy days" whining so many people express has been put into my head so many times--it was definitely one of those power of suggestion things, I think. Because now that I am more and more becoming an adult and defining who I am and who I want to be, I'm discovering the things I actually like. Simply because that's what I like! It's not what I should like or need to like or because that's what my parents like, but the things that I, as an INDIVIDUAL, love about the world. But that was a tangent straying from my actual point. Ha which point is . . . I am filled with such peace on rainy days, inside and outside; overcast or sunny; rainbow or downpour, I love it. I could just run and sing and jump in the rain all day every day if I wanted to. I remember when I was maybe ten or eleven, it just poured and poured outside. I believe I was home alone for the day, a fairly commonplace occurrence (I got really good at entertaining myself, as I still am) and I suddenly had a burst of energy and ecstasy for the fact that there was rain pouring down. And this was the wonderful, huge, extremely loud and feverish rain that doesn't let up and doesn't let up and doesn't let up. So I ran outside and I starting singing and jumping and playing and the rain was so loud that I could sing at the top of my lungs and still no one could hear me. In addition to the wonderfulness, there was no one around in the neighborhood, no signs of life anywhere really, no passing cars, it was late afternoon in spring probably around six so it was that glorious almost dark gray skyness, even though you know that the sun is shining, probably setting on the horizon at that time of day, above the thick enclosing layer of beautiful rich clouds. We mere humans just can't see it is all. That was one of the best days of my life. I love the rain.


A little rough--but just an experimental piece

*I don't usually attempt poetry that rhymes. I do feel that there's merit in the fact that is has a meter but it's still free form, however--so maybe we'll try to make that work in the future.

Looking into existence, Did I steal that from another?
Shooting stars will come and go, Learning from my mother.

I should have known they'd always be right;
It was obvious to see that there was little in flight.

Is that upsetting? Or does it feel okay?
Content and rebellion taunt as night to day.

I'm changing my forum, breathing in new life.
While keeping that which questions . . . as the butter upon a knife.

There's something silly and sweet--unassuming and tall;
I need not know about the square or the straight, but rather the diagonal.

Language feeds me, as the earth's divine nectar to a worm;
Not so dull am I to believe that only the "high-minded" can offer something to learn.

Give me the combination--let me hear the ring.
Or at the least, leave me here . . . for man is a giddy thing.
The Violet

Down in a green and shady bed,
A modest violet grew;
Its stalk was bent, it hung its head
As if to hide from view.

And yet it was a lovely flower,
Its colour bright and fair;
It might have graced a rosy bower,
Instead of hiding there.

Yet thus it was content to bloom,
In modest tints arrayed;
And there diffused a sweet perfume,
Within the silent shade.

Then let me to the valley go
This pretty flower to see;
That I may also learn to grow
In sweet humility.
-Jane Taylor

This piece is rad!!!


This is a radical blog I picked it up from too: Pop Art Diva blog--check it out!
Dear world,
I DO use this as a convenient online journal . . . so I stick to what I said earlier in a way, but at the same time--I think it's cool for people to read it! What WAS I thinking?? I stay in touch with cool people this way. All right; the humble pie has been eaten. You are radical people. I like that you read my blog. Please keep it up as my returned blog reading will be kept up. You are awesome! Also, Stephanie--I miss you tons. I got your message while I was at work and I'm calling you ASAP. LOVE!
Love, Katie Sue
Facebook is so not fun anymore. I have to censor myself way too much. This blog has been compromised too.
I don't care how random this blog is and I will tell you why--it's not really a "blog" at all. It's really a convenient journal. The only way I've ever gotten myself to do any consistent documentation of my life is this and as silly as it sounds, I really think it's because I like typing better than writing with a pen or pencil. I hold writing utensils incorrectly and press too hard with them so my hand cramps. AND I can't have rad backgrounds in Word or I would just use that. And then I would have the freedom to use real people's names as opposed to code--but then in the same token, I think the code gives me an interesting challenge oftentimes. Plain and simple--I like typing. So basically, I don't care if you read this. Don't get me wrong; I'm sure there are cool people out there in cyber world so ready to be a blog fan of mine (I mean, who wouldn't want to be?!), but the truth is it's so fine with me if there's not too. SO fine. But thanks for that, world. Fin.

Peter Paul Rubens "The Straw Hat" c. 1626

I'm here again in the city
Reminds me of the time
I drove to town to pick you up
Then we talked of leaving

We knew the bags we packed
in the back would be enough
And it makes me wonder
why we didn't go

Oh no Miss Dani
Why are we here in this town?
We could be driving
We could be to Mexico by now

Now Miss Dani
Why are we here on our own?
We could be together
Laying on a beach in Mexico

Miss Dani I know timing wasn't perfect
When you said you wished we had met five years from now
You know I will be waiting
I still think we should have left two weeks go
And i think that deep inside you you still know

Oh now Miss Dani
Why are we here in this town?
We should be driving
We should be to Mexico by now

Now Miss Dani
Why are we here on our own?
We could be together
Lying on a beach in Mexico

And something I don't want to do
Is leave here without you
You know I could never stay
So I'm leaving anyway

Oh now Miss Dani
Why are we here in this town?
We should be driving
We should be to Mexico by now

Now Miss Dani
Why are we here on our own?
We should be together
Laying on a beach in Mexico

Now Miss Dani
-Stephen Speaks
"I regard the theatre as the greatest of all art forms, the most immediate way in which a human being can share with another the sense of what it is to be a human being."
-Oscar Wilde

Dear Broadway, (Especially Musical Theater Broadway)

I have tried and tried, but the fact of the matter is that I just can't help it . . . I love you. SO SO much. It's really kind of embarrassing if I think about it too long. So put that in your cup and spit on it. Or whatever.

Love, Katie
And It Came to Pass

by C. D. Wright

This june 3
would be different

Time to draw lines
I've grown into the family pores
and the bronchitis

Even up east

I get by saying goddamnit

Who was that masked man

I left for dead
in the shadow of mt. shadow

Who crumbles there

Not touching anything
but satin and dandelions

Not laid his eyes
on the likes of you

Because the unconnected life
is not worth living

Thorntrees overtake the spot

Hands appear to push back pain

Because no poet's death

Can be the sole author
of another poet's life

What will my new instrument be

Just this water glass
this untunable spoon

Something else is out there
goddamnit

And I want to hear it..

Gasp.

Re-creation, re-innovation just may be my favorite type of art.

This Week's Greatest Blessings . . . (in no particular order)

  • The remedy of sleep--it seems to be able to heal anything
  • Colored light
  • Misunderstanding--its yang is great when it comes around
  • Confusion--it forces me to hope for light
  • Emily Gillespie
  • Thumbtacks
  • Reading
  • New people. Which create new challenges. Which create new ways to get to know oneself. Which get one to do new things. And go to new places. And meet more new people.
  • I need Africa more than Africa needs me.
  • Adjustment

Cutest new book EVER . . . perfectly describes how every child should feel about themselves and how the adults they turn into should feel, too.

CAN YOU BELIEVE IT??? Yes. Yes you can. Who are we kidding we all saw it coming. haha



These two are getting married . . . Roberto Liddle and Emilou Sue Peterson. Both super rad people. Two BFFs of mine. And each other soon--ha! Get it? Like they're gonna be together forever cuz they'll be MARRIED? haha! oh man, I kill myself. And you too I'm sure. (Wipe a tear, slap my knee, fan myself) Phew, um anywho . . . guess what's rad!? I'm gonna be a bridesmaid! Rad right? And anyway I found this old picture of them and I thought it was a pretty good symbol of their relationship actually. Made me crack up. This is the exchange which I'm sure went with this picture: Roberto-"Okay just one minute I have some brownie to eat . . . Yep just a minute dear . . . Uh huh . . . " Emily-"Oh look Katie has a camera! Smile honey! Smile! Robert!!! Smile with me!" (Pausing in the conversation for a moment to pause for a strained smile photograph, proceeded by Emily slapping Robert on the shoulder for not paying attention) Oh man, they're so cute!!! No but real guys . . . you're awesome. I'm ridiculously happy for you.

High School Peeps So Old Pics . . . But Still Legit and Awesome
















Africa Legit . . . A Different Group of Friends But Equally Awesome
















Legit It Just Keeps On Going . . .











For real, SO many awesome people in my life. Why am I so blessed!?

Legit Cont . . .
















More pics of more peeps.

Legit yo . . . Legit
















So I really do have some rad friends. I really do. They're good people. I'm keeping 'em. Here's some pics of some of the peeps.
I've noticed that so many "formerly fat", those whom were once large but then lost a ton of weight . . . girls turn into real snobby bitches. I'd rather be a happy and fat girl.
I'd like to be somebody's Jerry.
As cliche and girlish and PMS-ey as it may be, I so often have the urge to sob, truly sob . . . for no reason at all. I really don't cry that much--so it feels weird to think that.