How I feel

I hate when people are funnier than me. I find it sketchy and rude.

<--- --->

Life is about to change.

It feels good.

Or bad.


Nope. I choose for it to feel good.

Choose happiness

Mexicans and Old People

Nothing better than Mexican food. We white people know how to eat.

I am effing parched right now and my water bottle is just out of arms reach. I understand Africa right now.

I feel like building something right now. It's odd because I rarely feel like "doing" anything and building is especially productive sounding. It must be from the Mexican food. I'm going to watch TV and hope this feeling of productivity passes. It's not healthy.

Respect your elders. Unless they're idiots. Then just ignore them and wait for them to die.

Baby violence.

Big things are happening people. Big things.

I love big things. Big ol' juicy things (allow your mind to take you where it may).

I am having some big ol' panic attacks about all this every once in a while, but I'd be more worried if I didn't. I feel like if I'm not panicking something heinous and visualizing the horrible demise of my happiness at the next turn, then I'm not really living. It's healthy.

Yesterday I punched imaginary things. Lots of them. I accidently punched a baby, but babies are resilient. That's what I'm learning at work. I can let babies jump off counters and eat bleach and they'll probably be fine. (If my boss ever sees this or any future employer of the childcare variety or any law enforcement agency or anyone with a conscience, I'll probably never work or live in society again. That's probably going to happen and my happiness with meet its demise.)

Of course I'm kidding about the baby neglect and violence.

Oh. kid just walked into work. I'll be back.

Bam

"We must make an idol of our fear, and call it God."

The Seventh Seal (1956)

A step in the....something... direction

So it's official. I'm moving to Washington. Big girl time. No friends (except for the boyfriend, of course). No family. No job. No plan. No idea what the dammit I'm doing.

Yeah. I'm terrified. But this is what I've preached about. Not planning and just letting life take me where I am supposed to be. I immediately regret trying to practice what I preach, but I have to since I have so many people looking up to me.

I'll probably be miserable for at least 3 months and rethink everything I have come to believe on life and then I'll start going to church and caring about taxes and hating liberals and then get a "real" job and settle down and live in WA for 30 years and then after all that i'll realize that my youthful naivity was actually accurate the whole time and then my beliefs will come full circle during my midlife crisis and travel to south america to rediscover myself and catch some weird parasite from eating a toe or some other delicacy and die.

Optimism.

I better at least end up in a Twilight movie. I'd make a badass vampire.


So look out for that.

I call you a "fucker" at the end of this post. Just so you know.

Blogs make people extremely self absorbed.

I sit and write about me and my problems and my funny observations on life, and all the while animals are suffering and miley cyrus is existing. I am in what actors call the "vertile void," though. Basically what that means is your life implodes on itself and you emotionally burst into pieces and nothing means everything and everything means nothing and you hate yourself but oddly feel like you are a better person than you've ever been and yet you do nothing for anyone because youd rather be sitting in your own muck of humanity and feel what it all means. You know... that kind of thing.

I hate myself so much right now. I feel like I keep talking about myself (LIKE RIGHT NOW!) but then I think, "No. Katlyn. This is your blog and you need to do what you need to do" and then I think, "You are a selfish whoreface and you need to stop talking for at least 3 days." I have no idea what to do with myself right now. I know less about life at this moment than I ever have before but I feel so alive at the same time. I don't want to be that girl that gets stuck in her own psychology and analyzes everything, but I also don't want to be that girl that lives a superficial life because she never really searches within herself to know what she really believes and really wants.

So here is what I am going to do: I'm going to really focus on my animal rights stuff for the next 3 days (well not just for 3 days but I'm gunna be hardcore about it for 3 days). I'm going to research and write letters and make any necessary life changes and basically rediscover what is important to me in order to find out if I still feel the same as I once did. I'm hoping putting some focus on something other than me trying to be funny and enlightening (we all get it. I'm both of these things. ((I just did a diva hair flip so you know) will clear some stuff up.

So before I go I gotta purge myself of my bullshit so I can go into this thing with an open spirit (too much).

-I don't think Dave Matthews is all that fuckin awesome
-I eat meat (duh) but I don't feel much remorse for it anymore because it helps with my little health issue thingies.
-I do feel remorse and I just lied to you. I just don't know how to balance me being physically healthy with being ethically healthy.
-I am listening to Pandora right now and Rob Pattinson is singing a song.....................I feel like Twilight might be to blame for all my craziness.
-I am terrified of making a mistake in my life right now while I'm young and free. I don't want to waste this precious time.
-I love playing with blocks while I'm at work. Somehow that does not feel like a waste of time.


Ok. I'm done talking about myself for at least 3 days. GOSH! 3 DAYS! THATS SO LONG!

It's really not. I'm just a ridiculous person.


Stop buying products tested on animals, fuckers.

How I feel this morning

How do people relationship (thats a verb)? I don't know how to be a soldier's girlfriend. I've been working on that for about 5 months now, but he just got back and fuck. its different again! this is the Man getting back at me for my hippie ways!

The Man.. he's a clever son of a bitch. You gotta respect that.

life is stupid and annoying and wonderful. i don't make no sense. you don't make no sense. sense is not made.

Something to look forward to

My cat and I got into a fight. This was level 10, code red, hide your babies, Michael Vic would be proud kinda fighting. I was an advocate of animal cruelty in that moment. She experienced a severe mood swing and attacked my arm like it was filled with catnip or something and I attacked back like she was filled with icecream or, oddly enough, catnip. We haven't spoken since, but I know she'll weaken and talk first. I'm an expert arguer. I always win. Don't believe me? Start somethin!! START SOMETHIN! 

This is what I know (Oh great. Here she goes again): I enjoy arguing. Not name-calling, bitch slapping, club arguing (that's more Gia's style), but the one-on-one battle of words and wits. Most of the time, I'm not even that upset but I just want to argue. Is that healthy? No. You feel bad for my boyfriend? Well, you should. For many reasons. But I can't help it. The Good Lord hath made me this way for a reason. Not like he made the gays. He made them gay so that they would have to suffer their whole lives and go against who they naturally are just to get into heaven. Me, he made this way to enjoy destroying the self-esteem and others' wills to live. I've always been God's favorite, though, so I'm not surprised that he lets me do anything I want.

Things people say when they're delusional: "I've always been God's favorite."

Things that happen to people who say "I've always been God's favorite:" They live a lonely life filled with meaningless relationships with partners who never meet up to their absurd standards, alcoholism, lots of cats, blogging as if people care about their opinion, dying alone in an apartment filled with cat feces and weird books about Civil War heroes (not sure why....), and eventually Hell.

Anyway, as I was saying, I'm God's favorite, which is pretty impressive considering the courageous, dauntless, and audacious acts of Edward F. Arthur, John Davis, John F. Weston, and many others.



-The Favorite

I feel this song is about life.

Happy Birthday Frida Kahlo



That's all I got right now! My brain is producing no other information except for this and the last 2 sentences.

Robin Williams

Well. I did it again. I changed my friggin mind. I change my mind on the regular if you haven't noticed. I am impossible to make plans with. I can't commit to anything. I'm a very unstable human being. People probably shouldn't know me.

I need to figure this out. I find it so fascinating that I know all about everyone and everything else in the world, yet I do not know the motivations for my own actions 70% of the time (30% of the time, it's icecream. Scientists figured that percentage out. It's science). Is everyone like this? Or do most people have control over their own bodies and minds?

If I could choose anyone to control my mind/body combo it would be Robin Williams. WHOA! I just realized I have not talked about Robin Williams enough in this blog. Shameful! Why Robin Williams? Well, he's fuckin hilarious for 1 and he'd make me fuckin hilarious by association. He's amazing at improvising ridiculous yet splendid characters, and I could be his puppet to put his characters on display. Also, I'd probably get to do a lot of crack, and I ain't gunna lie... I'd do crack if it wasn't of my own free will. I would definitely choose to do crack if I couldn't choose, naw mean? Me on crack would be terrifying. Just imagine: Robin Williams on crack controlling me while on crack. That's the stuff of glory.

I feel like the reason I change my mind so often is that I don't do crack enough (enough? I do crack some though? DO I?) Like (beginning a sentence with "like" is disgusting), if I did more crack I would be on crack and then all decisions would be erased from my life because I'd only want one thing: more crack. Crackheads have it so easy. Me? I want everything, but I really don't except when I do, but that's only when I really don't but I just think I do even though I know I should... Crackheads don't deal with that. Their brain says "Crack." And their body says, "Crack." And crack says, "Crack." Profound.

I really don't want to do crack.


Yes I do.

Can't a brotha just be more important than World of Warcraft?

I keep finding out I have food allergies. What is it now? Fuckin' blueberries! BLUEBERRIES! Whoever heard of blueberries allergifying someone? WAIT. This is some straight-up Willy Wonka business. The universe must be teaching me a lesson. That chick in the movie talked too much and was very loud and sassy. That has nothing to do with me though. The universe doesn't know what it's doing. Never has. Umm... can you say mosquitos? And their purpose is what? Exactly.

So, my mouth tastes a little like metal and burns like hell. See.. it is like the universe is telling me to shut up and stop flappin my mouth so much. So ABSURD! Universe! You got the wrong girl!

As of today, my need to save the world is starting to resurface. I took a long break from giving a shit about anyone and anything other than myself. Then, my bf went to Afghanistan. While it first it made me more selfish and self absorbed and nonsense, now it reminds me that there are people out there that don't sit around and blog and talk smack about people all day. There are people who put their lives in danger. So, what I do in response to this renewed vigor and passion? I sit around and blog about it. Hmmmm.........

I want to save animals in animal testing labs. I want to save people from the poisons in our foods. I want the soldiers to come home and stop losing lives for other people's greed. I want my mouth to stop making everything taste like pennies.

I think the last one is most important to me.


I guess I really haven't changed. It's all about me. That's how humans are. We each want to survive and bone to perpetuate our kind. Nothin wrong with a little survival and a little boning.... or is there?


I don't know the meaning of life. I just know that when it comes down to it, and I'm looking death in the eye (It will be by shark attack. MAN ISN'T IT GOING TO BE FREAKY WHEN IT IS!!!!?? Everyone is going to think I was a prophet and then this blog with be the next Bible ((but much less heavy), I want to have created something. Whether it be a child or a play or freakin sweet biweekly magazine that features old people changing the world just to prove that being old doesn't mean you can't be badass, it doesn't matter. I just want to know that I mattered. In a world where so much bullshit matters: botox and boob size and six-packs and tan butt-cheeks and nice cars and World of Warcraft and oil, I better contribute something! The standards aren't very high. DAMN

I love you.


Maybe I don't. Shit I dont know. Just know that I entertain the idea of loving you.

-Katie