True Life: I share a brain

Meet the One Brain.

That is Zac, Reggie, Me and a giant bean. The giant bean isn't part of the one brain... yet. I tried to invite him to join but he just gave me a coupon for baked beans. 

What does it mean to share a brain?

Well... it's a lot like sharing lotion. Like, at first you may feel uncomfortable about it because it seems so personal, but then you end up smelling just like the person you shared with and that's just awesome.

Speaking of awesome things brought on by lotion- I bought a ridiculously expensive "body butter" (see previous post) called Buttercream Frosting, and it makes me feel and smell like Jesus. What is ironic about this lotion making me smell Jesus-like is that the box says "sinfully rich" which seems to be the exact opposite of Jesus. I tried to write a letter to the company about this, but they just sent me a coupon for baked beans.

All of this has gotten me thinking about death (obviously). Here is what I'm thinkin':

A) When I die, what is going to happen to Reggie and Zac? We share a brain... and usually dead brains aren't conducive to life situations.

B) On my lil tombstone thing I want it to say "Here lies Katlyn Whittenburg -sinfully rich." I haven't decided yet if I want to actually live a sinfully rich life yet or just lie on my grave. I mean.. I'm not going to lie on my grave.. I'll be in my grave and lie on the tombstone. You understand. ANYWAY... Jesus probably isn't going to be happy either way with the living in sin thing or with the lying so I need to think more about this one.

C) Who is going to inherit all my baked beans coupons?

LKAJSLDJSKJSALADLE

I bought some butter for my body. It's body butter. 

No me interesa

I, in this moment, believe....

The point of life is making meaningful contact with humanity. 

You mean something. What does your name mean? What's in a name? 

The words are not important but the human experience that each of our names holds is our weight in this world. He has seen God; She has seen war; He has killed; She has lost her love; He has climbed mountains; She has run away; He has died; She has died; They both, with all their little and large moments in life, have meant something to someone. This meaning is the ash that is left behind. 

As you walk to class, to work, to the store, to China, wherever, realize every once in a while that the person that just walked by in that tacky sequined shirt and ridiculously high-waisted shorts means something to someone just as you do, and this recognition in that moment causes him or her to mean something to you. 

You and Tacky McGee have something that bonds you together so closely and indestructibly: you both want to mean something and both go throughout your whole lives seeking ways to achieve that. There is no room for hate once you understand this is true for all races, religions, and lifestyles. 

I want someone to say my name, say my name; you actin' kinda shady; ain't callin' me baby...

sorry.

Really, though, I want someone to say my name with acknowledgment of my hard times, my favorite things, my most embarrassing moments, my fears, my obsession with Gatorade, and what my real true smile looks like. 

This blog is the beginning of my slow walk towards revealing my real self in the real world. 

Right now, that is what I mean.

What do you mean?

KATLYN*************

"...Humanity i love you because you 

are perpetually putting the secret

of life in your pants and forgetting

 it's there and sitting down

on it

and because you are 

forever making poems in the lap

of death Humanity

I hate you."

e. e. cummings*******

The tension in intension floods the throat until the back reverberates against the grass and I sing to the one that soil breathes for tune breaks my cushioned back but it feels like plucking the string of damaged guitar life with a whole new arrangement of its spine to lay out on the grass absorbing the vibrations of its own celebration of your faceless warmth. i sit up and the stains on my back give me false hope. 

L.

I am a sassy biatch

Ok... so I have soooo much to talk about. I have a whole new perspective for this blog and for life and for my paintings and for my butt (i thought it was lookin big but im ok with it now). 

but im not going to share now.

i'm a tease.

but i want you to get so excited that you forget to take off your watch when you go to bed and you wake up with a watch print on your wrist!!!! YEAAAAHHHH! THAT EXCITED!

who wears watches? 

find your excited parts and get em ready for some action (dirty?) because this blog is blowin' your mind and more! (dirty!)

im a tease.

Mango Orange Soda in the Morning

sometimes... you just gotta laugh it off.

More later

My paintings do not look like vaginas

Jessica "obsessed with vaginas" Badali, my roommate and sworn enemy, seems to think that everything I paint looks like vaginas, and it is just not true! Shoo. 

She would be really pissed at me for putting Jessica "obsessed with vaginas" Badali as her name, but we all know that no one really reads this so I can pretty much say what I want.

I am in a very good mood right now?

Yea.. that is a question. Why is that a question? Because it's my blog, and I can do what I want. Also, because I am somewhat shocked by my mood.

As you can tell from some past blog posts, I have a real negative side to me that likes to whine and moan (but not in a sexual way; I mean... it's not that I don't like to moan in a sexual way... I mean... not that I'm a whore... I mean... not that I..... awkward). 

I could have just erased that whole moment, but I like for my paying customers to get a good sense of the crazy ways I think. 

ANYWAYS. I woke up this mornin' listening to The Doors, which is kind of random for me, but it set the tone for a kind of kick ass day.

Now I will only blog what I did today only using nouns because I do what I want.

I psychology freshmen questions me binders I job server stadium lunch Andi friend bobby soxer meeting SETC amigos theatre blog party mugs.

That's right... I had a blog party with my mugs.

YOU KNOW WHAT ELSE? 

I took a shower in the middle of the day. Clean pores can really lift your spirits. AND I'm wearing wedgie panties. Most people would think that is a bad thing, but I think it is a great challenge to try to pick wedgies without passerbys noticing. I get a rush. 

What if I am writing this right now while I'm naked, and you are reading this right now while you are naked?

I'm going to read some antes de ir a la fiesta.

MESSAGE OF THE DAY: Be okay with the wedgies of life.

-New Katlyn

Freeze your blood, then stab it into me.

HEINOUS PICTURE! But it needs to happen.

Sorry for the intense post title. It is part of a Modest Mouse song and it is somehow relevant... 

Relationships are wearing me out.

This is why I love animals.

I am a person who is obsessed with life. I am fascinated by the weird coincidences and beautiful patterns that daily present themselves in nature. One only has to actually look at something... really take the time to focus the eyes on the river, the trees, the crazy UT squirrels, etc. to understand the grandness of every single drop of matter that surrounds us. The problem is that people get in the way and muck all this up.

I say this because I am disappointed in people, and sometimes I would love to do the whole Thoreau thing and jump around alone in the woods for a while and write a book that would make me look less crazy and more brilliant. The problem with that is that I actually love people and lately I am not feeling the love in return. It feels like everyone is whirling around me, smiling, laughing at what I have to say, sending me fun facebook messages, but none of it is solid... real. 

I have only been to one acting class this semester so far, but it is kind of my thing, and one moment in that theatre realm can wake me up. My professor was talking about finding intimacy on stage. Intimacy is what brings life into art. Now, I wish people (i am including myself) could learn to bring art into life. Why can we not be real like a two act play? Why can't we create heavy moments of startling love or intense anger? Why do we have to mask our words in sarcasm, fake laughs, jokes, or unnecessary gossip, thus procrastinating the process of really knowing one another, instead of saying what we are really thinking... what we are really feeling. I am obsessed with life but I don't feel like I am really living it. I feel we are all so scared of reality. 

I am.

It's why I am an actor. I can get out all of these feelings and really explore the things I never say and put them out there with no fear of being truly rejected. 

Plus, acting feeds my huge ego and my desire to feel important in this big big world (hence the blog).

I find it interesting the progression of my blog. My dedicated readers (they're out there somewhere... mainly crazy UT squirrels) have probably noticed how it began as an intense animal rights mission and now is more about finding inner peace. i hate that term "inner peace". I hate it... but I use it. My inner peace is fleeting, but when I have it, I feel it in by belly.

Where is your inner peace?

Have you found it yet? 

Erase your face, erase your thoughts, and simply be for a moment. Your peace will be there. Not your piece though. Put that away. Not loaded. That is how children die. Dead children are not a means to inner peace.

Ya know what I'm sayin'?????

Keep it real, yo.

My first step to keeping it real is to realize I am white. It's a process.

KKtheKoolKid