Nothing is more liberating than letting your tits out to breathe.
More on this later.
Thursday, April 29, 2010
Wednesday, April 28, 2010
I like people.
Ok. It is 3:23 am. Time to write.
People amaze me. So, my boyfriends family is driving all the way from CTown to KTown to see me play one of the tiniest roles ever created. They are coming without Matt (obviously) to see me! That blows my mind. Blown. Done. I rarely give people credit for being wonderful. Hippies really aren't that loving. We hate people and their mindless conformity to greed-driven popular culture. Well, we love other hippies, but even then, not really, but we are too stoned when we are around each other to see that all humans are the same and that hippies are just smellier versions of the same bullshit. I give all my respect and adoration to animals; therefore, I spend most of my time talking to birds and cuddling with bunnies. Today, though, I was reminded that people can be....good.... gosh that was hard for me to say, and I should maybe put more time into respecting other people.
Mark pointed out to me today that sometimes I am less-than-tolerant to the existance of other people, especially people who waste my time by speaking when they should either be listening to me speak or reading my blog. So, I am going to work on respecting other people because, as Matt's family proves, some people really do deserve it.
My advice for the day, then, is to try to go a whole day (at least) without complaining. I worked on that today (and failed, but still tried!) and found that when I stop putting negativity into the universe, I was more receptive to positive vibes and other hippie things. As soon as I stopped whining about people, I started seeing more of the good that is within everyone.
All I want is to be happy, and I am going to go ahead and speak for everyone on the planet (because that is my right as an American) and say that is all anyone really wants. Something that simple is usually made so complicated, though, because of the clutter that surrounds us all. We get so caught up in money and power trying to change others that we forget that if we just focused on being truly happy with ourselves that life would be great. If we transform ourselves into content individuals, then the world and the people that surround us could never change our inner peace, except to maybe enhance it. So, if life is a struggle for you at this moment, try to alter your perception of things rather than complaining about the exterior factors that you have no control over. Then, you will truly gain control over your own happiness. You worry about you and let me worry about the rest. My blog will fix all.
Also, I need to talk less and listen more.
And clean my room.
I love you all, dammit.
-Katie the Sassy Lady
People amaze me. So, my boyfriends family is driving all the way from CTown to KTown to see me play one of the tiniest roles ever created. They are coming without Matt (obviously) to see me! That blows my mind. Blown. Done. I rarely give people credit for being wonderful. Hippies really aren't that loving. We hate people and their mindless conformity to greed-driven popular culture. Well, we love other hippies, but even then, not really, but we are too stoned when we are around each other to see that all humans are the same and that hippies are just smellier versions of the same bullshit. I give all my respect and adoration to animals; therefore, I spend most of my time talking to birds and cuddling with bunnies. Today, though, I was reminded that people can be....good.... gosh that was hard for me to say, and I should maybe put more time into respecting other people.
Mark pointed out to me today that sometimes I am less-than-tolerant to the existance of other people, especially people who waste my time by speaking when they should either be listening to me speak or reading my blog. So, I am going to work on respecting other people because, as Matt's family proves, some people really do deserve it.
My advice for the day, then, is to try to go a whole day (at least) without complaining. I worked on that today (and failed, but still tried!) and found that when I stop putting negativity into the universe, I was more receptive to positive vibes and other hippie things. As soon as I stopped whining about people, I started seeing more of the good that is within everyone.
All I want is to be happy, and I am going to go ahead and speak for everyone on the planet (because that is my right as an American) and say that is all anyone really wants. Something that simple is usually made so complicated, though, because of the clutter that surrounds us all. We get so caught up in money and power trying to change others that we forget that if we just focused on being truly happy with ourselves that life would be great. If we transform ourselves into content individuals, then the world and the people that surround us could never change our inner peace, except to maybe enhance it. So, if life is a struggle for you at this moment, try to alter your perception of things rather than complaining about the exterior factors that you have no control over. Then, you will truly gain control over your own happiness. You worry about you and let me worry about the rest. My blog will fix all.
Also, I need to talk less and listen more.
And clean my room.
I love you all, dammit.
-Katie the Sassy Lady
Tuesday, April 27, 2010
Cussing makes me feel dirty...in a good way, in a bad way.
I skipped class today. I have skipped a majority of my geography classes, but should I really feel bad? Geography classes never show up for me.
4 more days of class and then I can stop complaining about school and start complaining about not school.
Complaining... It seems like humans do it so much we must enjoy it, which means we should be happy, which means we shouldn't be complaining. Lately I have been very annoyed with hearing people complain and in the midst of my annoyance I failed to realized that I was complaining about them complaining. I am at one of the more bitchy points in my life. I talk a lot of shit. I talk smack. I smack talk. I almost shmack talk. All that shmacking, though, is rooted in things I don't like about myself.
I hate when the things they teach you in elementary school end up being true. Yesterday I realized there is some legitamacy to addition. That shit pissed me off. And now thewhole "when bullies bully, it's because they are insecure" nonsense is proving correct too, except now I'm the bully. But what, pray tell, am I insecure about?
I think it's that I am afraid I am not interesting, and so I resort to being witty and bitchy because it's easy for me, and it always gets a laugh.
Oh hell. I have class in a bit. I would just save this post and finish it later, but I know that I'll forget and never post it so I'm going to leave you oh so unsatisfied while I go to class, get pissy, talk shit in the back of the room, feel guilty about it, eat icecream to relieve the pain, get fat, then sit in my house for the rest of my life blogging and hiding from reality, and then have a TLC special called: The Big Blogger.
Later!
4 more days of class and then I can stop complaining about school and start complaining about not school.
Complaining... It seems like humans do it so much we must enjoy it, which means we should be happy, which means we shouldn't be complaining. Lately I have been very annoyed with hearing people complain and in the midst of my annoyance I failed to realized that I was complaining about them complaining. I am at one of the more bitchy points in my life. I talk a lot of shit. I talk smack. I smack talk. I almost shmack talk. All that shmacking, though, is rooted in things I don't like about myself.
I hate when the things they teach you in elementary school end up being true. Yesterday I realized there is some legitamacy to addition. That shit pissed me off. And now thewhole "when bullies bully, it's because they are insecure" nonsense is proving correct too, except now I'm the bully. But what, pray tell, am I insecure about?
I think it's that I am afraid I am not interesting, and so I resort to being witty and bitchy because it's easy for me, and it always gets a laugh.
Oh hell. I have class in a bit. I would just save this post and finish it later, but I know that I'll forget and never post it so I'm going to leave you oh so unsatisfied while I go to class, get pissy, talk shit in the back of the room, feel guilty about it, eat icecream to relieve the pain, get fat, then sit in my house for the rest of my life blogging and hiding from reality, and then have a TLC special called: The Big Blogger.
Later!
Tuesday, April 13, 2010
Bullshit
K. I'm back. I just got back from an amazing Shakespeare class that just reaffirms my belief in what I am setting out to do: change the world with art.
That doesn't make me sound like a tool.
I realized my last post makes me sound very anti-Christian. At least I think it does. I really can't tell how I come off to people. The truth is, I really am not. 99% of my friends are Christian. My bf is Christian. My parents are Christian. It's just what I know best so it is easier for me to compare other beliefs to it. It is also easier for me to criticize. In the end, though, my words don't matter. So if I offend you, just remember that I don't matter and you will feel better.
I'm done with that topic though. Let's talk about trust.
Who do you really trust? Like 100% trust. You would tell them your most private and most embarrassing stories. Is there anyone?
I am not a trusting person. I don't think there is anyone that I would tell ANYTHING to. I'm working on it, though, because I think that is something that has kept me from being truly happy. Being guarded is all well and good. It makes you mysterious and sexy. It gives you an excuse to brood. Not trusting is very fashionable, but if I'm going to be honest with myself, I'm already so fashionable that any more fashion would just be redundant.
I think I have spread my trust too thin. I know a lot of people. It's the nature of theatre. You meet people all the time because your job and the people you work with constantly changes. So, I know all these people and it is physically impossible to maintain as many friendships as I would like. There are some really cool people in this world that would be great friends, but there just isn't time! There are also some really shitty people in the world that, on the surface, seem funny and groovy, but in the end, they disappoint you greatly. This has been really affecting me lately. I have too many people in my life and I feel this pressure to always be funny and exciting to all of them because I don't know most of them well enough to really be myself. This pressure causes me to be resentful and a little bit less than friendly to humanity.
I think most people spread themselves too thin. Whether it be in their work or their friendships or in the number of women they flirt with. People overestimate their capabilities and end up having less meaningful relationships. True wisdom shows itself in people who know how much and what they are capable of. In American society, though, people see wisdom as those who do not know the word, "enough." We are raised to be the BEST and the RICHEST and the HOTTEST, but the problem with those goals is that they are truly impossible. If we base our happiness on comparisons to others, we will always be disappointed. If, though, we know what we need, only use what we need, and know our talents, and use those talents, we will find more success and more contentment. This does not suggest that one should not work harder to improve one's skills and abilities or not work to better him/herself in the areas that one is less able in, but it only helps to know what the strengths and weaknesses we have (and we all have both of these things. even Oprah. No. Oprah is a robot). Honesty is the key in acting...in relationships...and in knowledge of self.
So my current goal is to eliminate clutter in my life. I need to not make promises like, "YEAH LET'S GET COFFEE SOON!" if I honestly don't want to or just don't have the time. I want my relationships with my family members and my closest friends and my Matt to be as strong as possible, and being a socialite does not make that goal realistic.
20 minutes until class. That is not enough time for me to write something witty so I'll just quote James McGuire (speaking of eliminating clutter)
"Life is like a flower, it'll open when it wants to, and I am homeschooled"
James McGuire.
That doesn't make me sound like a tool.
I realized my last post makes me sound very anti-Christian. At least I think it does. I really can't tell how I come off to people. The truth is, I really am not. 99% of my friends are Christian. My bf is Christian. My parents are Christian. It's just what I know best so it is easier for me to compare other beliefs to it. It is also easier for me to criticize. In the end, though, my words don't matter. So if I offend you, just remember that I don't matter and you will feel better.
I'm done with that topic though. Let's talk about trust.
Who do you really trust? Like 100% trust. You would tell them your most private and most embarrassing stories. Is there anyone?
I am not a trusting person. I don't think there is anyone that I would tell ANYTHING to. I'm working on it, though, because I think that is something that has kept me from being truly happy. Being guarded is all well and good. It makes you mysterious and sexy. It gives you an excuse to brood. Not trusting is very fashionable, but if I'm going to be honest with myself, I'm already so fashionable that any more fashion would just be redundant.
I think I have spread my trust too thin. I know a lot of people. It's the nature of theatre. You meet people all the time because your job and the people you work with constantly changes. So, I know all these people and it is physically impossible to maintain as many friendships as I would like. There are some really cool people in this world that would be great friends, but there just isn't time! There are also some really shitty people in the world that, on the surface, seem funny and groovy, but in the end, they disappoint you greatly. This has been really affecting me lately. I have too many people in my life and I feel this pressure to always be funny and exciting to all of them because I don't know most of them well enough to really be myself. This pressure causes me to be resentful and a little bit less than friendly to humanity.
I think most people spread themselves too thin. Whether it be in their work or their friendships or in the number of women they flirt with. People overestimate their capabilities and end up having less meaningful relationships. True wisdom shows itself in people who know how much and what they are capable of. In American society, though, people see wisdom as those who do not know the word, "enough." We are raised to be the BEST and the RICHEST and the HOTTEST, but the problem with those goals is that they are truly impossible. If we base our happiness on comparisons to others, we will always be disappointed. If, though, we know what we need, only use what we need, and know our talents, and use those talents, we will find more success and more contentment. This does not suggest that one should not work harder to improve one's skills and abilities or not work to better him/herself in the areas that one is less able in, but it only helps to know what the strengths and weaknesses we have (and we all have both of these things. even Oprah. No. Oprah is a robot). Honesty is the key in acting...in relationships...and in knowledge of self.
So my current goal is to eliminate clutter in my life. I need to not make promises like, "YEAH LET'S GET COFFEE SOON!" if I honestly don't want to or just don't have the time. I want my relationships with my family members and my closest friends and my Matt to be as strong as possible, and being a socialite does not make that goal realistic.
20 minutes until class. That is not enough time for me to write something witty so I'll just quote James McGuire (speaking of eliminating clutter)
"Life is like a flower, it'll open when it wants to, and I am homeschooled"
James McGuire.
Like a Whore in Church
It has been a long time since I have braved the blog. I go through phases when nothing seems more awful in this world than my blog (I know you understand that). I have realized, though, that when I go a while without blogging, I am substancially less happy. It's time to get happy!
How do I restart this blogging thing? Do I jump straight into religion and politics or ease my way into this with something that is less likely to inspire you to kill yourself?
Religion it is.
So apparently religion is a big deal. Even though I try to ignore its very existence, it keeps being that friend that you really don't like but every once in a while he or she says something really funny and it makes you think that maybe things will be different now so you sleep with him and then you see that, nope, you still don't like him and then you spend all your time being pissed at yourself for being such a whore and then you talk a whole bunch of shit about him because A)it's easy and B) somehow it seems that the more shit you talk about him the less you slept with him and then you feel like a douche so you apologize to him and you rekindle your friendship and then you sleep together again.
Why are all my metephors rooted in sex? That sounds like a metaphor for something.
Why do metaphors exist? Trees give us shade, backpacks give us storage, metaphors give us... blogs. gross.
Religion. Right.
Basically, I went to church this past Sunday. Not only did I go to church... I went to Catholic Church. The ULTIMATE Church. You know? The church that allowed you to pay for forgiveness and the one that burned people at the stake and the one that won't let women lead worship because God is a man with a big dick that drives a loud truck? That one.
And I gotta say something. It wasn't awful. It was like that third time you sleep with someone and you finally start to remember that sex is supposed to be fun and not awkward. Not great, but surprisingly not awful.
I swear I'm not a whore.
I went to church with my roommate, and I really did get stuff out of it. Did I become a Catholic? no. Did I become a Christian? No. What I did do, though, is appreciate the tradition and the beauty of mass. The priest was an idiot. The Bible verses were boring. There was this crazy loud dude behind me that said things in Latin. But I found peace in being in a room (a rather large, rather ornate room) with a bunch of people who weren't arguing, but were at peace. They all felt they believe the same things as everyone else. I mean, people were bored out of their minds at times, but there were striking moments when I could feel the energy in the room get very intense in a very lovely way. My favorite part was the sharing of peace. Everyone shakes each others hands and says, "Peace be with you." How lovely. How lovely. So I shook all the hands around me and smiled and really looked at these people. I felt connected to them.
This is what I'm getting at. When people come together in peace and love, it feels nice. No one was there hating on homosexuals or arguing about Hilary Clinton. It wasn't about that. It was about worship and love. In that sense, church is wonderful. If only society could be so peaceful, quiet, and loving and come together to, to a certain extent, worship this planet and the beauty that surrounds us. In that church on Sunday, there were probably 100 people there, and even though they were mostly Catholic (I was probably the only non-Catholic but maybe not), one must assume they all have different political beliefs and some different specific religious beliefs, as well. Despite that, though, there was no arguing. That is what Relgion should always be.
I plan on going to church with the Reg whenever I don't have rehearsal or a show. It is a great time for me to meditate and bring life back into focus. Maybe it's because I was raised Catholic, but the Catholic Church is so beautiful to me. It feels like home. Too bad I'm going to hell. Hopefully hell looks like a Catholic Church.
If I wasn't offensive, everyone would love me way too much and then I would distract people from Jesus. I'm doing Christians a favor.
Oh. And I really am curious as to the percentage of Christians that know that Jesus wasn't white.
I have much more to say of the non-religious nature but apparently I am still in school and have class in 10 minutes. Why can't class be like the the second-coming of Jesus? Always near but never here.
Peace be with you.
And Also with you.
Amen.
How do I restart this blogging thing? Do I jump straight into religion and politics or ease my way into this with something that is less likely to inspire you to kill yourself?
Religion it is.
So apparently religion is a big deal. Even though I try to ignore its very existence, it keeps being that friend that you really don't like but every once in a while he or she says something really funny and it makes you think that maybe things will be different now so you sleep with him and then you see that, nope, you still don't like him and then you spend all your time being pissed at yourself for being such a whore and then you talk a whole bunch of shit about him because A)it's easy and B) somehow it seems that the more shit you talk about him the less you slept with him and then you feel like a douche so you apologize to him and you rekindle your friendship and then you sleep together again.
Why are all my metephors rooted in sex? That sounds like a metaphor for something.
Why do metaphors exist? Trees give us shade, backpacks give us storage, metaphors give us... blogs. gross.
Religion. Right.
Basically, I went to church this past Sunday. Not only did I go to church... I went to Catholic Church. The ULTIMATE Church. You know? The church that allowed you to pay for forgiveness and the one that burned people at the stake and the one that won't let women lead worship because God is a man with a big dick that drives a loud truck? That one.
And I gotta say something. It wasn't awful. It was like that third time you sleep with someone and you finally start to remember that sex is supposed to be fun and not awkward. Not great, but surprisingly not awful.
I swear I'm not a whore.
I went to church with my roommate, and I really did get stuff out of it. Did I become a Catholic? no. Did I become a Christian? No. What I did do, though, is appreciate the tradition and the beauty of mass. The priest was an idiot. The Bible verses were boring. There was this crazy loud dude behind me that said things in Latin. But I found peace in being in a room (a rather large, rather ornate room) with a bunch of people who weren't arguing, but were at peace. They all felt they believe the same things as everyone else. I mean, people were bored out of their minds at times, but there were striking moments when I could feel the energy in the room get very intense in a very lovely way. My favorite part was the sharing of peace. Everyone shakes each others hands and says, "Peace be with you." How lovely. How lovely. So I shook all the hands around me and smiled and really looked at these people. I felt connected to them.
This is what I'm getting at. When people come together in peace and love, it feels nice. No one was there hating on homosexuals or arguing about Hilary Clinton. It wasn't about that. It was about worship and love. In that sense, church is wonderful. If only society could be so peaceful, quiet, and loving and come together to, to a certain extent, worship this planet and the beauty that surrounds us. In that church on Sunday, there were probably 100 people there, and even though they were mostly Catholic (I was probably the only non-Catholic but maybe not), one must assume they all have different political beliefs and some different specific religious beliefs, as well. Despite that, though, there was no arguing. That is what Relgion should always be.
I plan on going to church with the Reg whenever I don't have rehearsal or a show. It is a great time for me to meditate and bring life back into focus. Maybe it's because I was raised Catholic, but the Catholic Church is so beautiful to me. It feels like home. Too bad I'm going to hell. Hopefully hell looks like a Catholic Church.
If I wasn't offensive, everyone would love me way too much and then I would distract people from Jesus. I'm doing Christians a favor.
Oh. And I really am curious as to the percentage of Christians that know that Jesus wasn't white.
I have much more to say of the non-religious nature but apparently I am still in school and have class in 10 minutes. Why can't class be like the the second-coming of Jesus? Always near but never here.
Peace be with you.
And Also with you.
Amen.
Sunday, March 21, 2010
My Life According to Shakespeare
Weary with Toil, I haste me to my Bed,
The dear Repose for Limbs with Travail tired;
But then begins a Journey in my Head
To work my Mind, when Body's Work's expired.
For then my Thoughts (from far where I abide)
Intend a zealous Pilgramage to Thee,
And keep my drooping Eyelids open wide,
Looking on Darkness which the Blind do see;
Save that my Soul's imaginary Sight
Presents their Shadow to my Sightless View,
Which, like a Jewel hung in ghastly Night,
Makes black Night beauteous and her old Face new.
Lo thus by Day my Limbs, my Night my Mind,
For Thee, and for my Self, no Quiet find.
The dear Repose for Limbs with Travail tired;
But then begins a Journey in my Head
To work my Mind, when Body's Work's expired.
For then my Thoughts (from far where I abide)
Intend a zealous Pilgramage to Thee,
And keep my drooping Eyelids open wide,
Looking on Darkness which the Blind do see;
Save that my Soul's imaginary Sight
Presents their Shadow to my Sightless View,
Which, like a Jewel hung in ghastly Night,
Makes black Night beauteous and her old Face new.
Lo thus by Day my Limbs, my Night my Mind,
For Thee, and for my Self, no Quiet find.
Wednesday, March 17, 2010
No me gusta la autoridad. no es una sopresa.
Don't you hate it when I put things in Spanish just to prove that I can?
So here is what I learned today.... I don't like authority. It isn't a surprise.
Oh, by the way, that isn't what the Spanish above says.
Oh, by the way, yes it is.
Got 'em.
Yeah it's obvious that I put on the image that I don't like authority. It's a requirement for having a blog. And, yes, people tell me that I don't listen to authority well, but I don't usually listen to those people because I'm too busy listening to authority, except...wait...no I'm not. I'm NOT busy listening to authority. I'm busy being a self-absorbed prick. Why didn't anyone tell me!??
This is why I don't listen to authority. Because there is no authority in my world. There is me being the boss of me and that's my life.
So, should I change this?
Right now I'm thinking I should. Why? Because I was an ornary biatch today...really everyday. I get SO pissed in classrooms. It's immediate. I walk in and then I become a 21 year old drunk guido and I need to fist pump, then get in a bar fight, and let everyone know that I'm the king of Jersey. In the moment it seems so appropriate. I feel like classes are wasting my time and that teachers don't respect me because I'm a student, and I feel like theatre people are so fond of hearing themselves speak that they find any excuse to ask a long question that incorporates too much pausing. You guys! Pacing! Learn it! It's pretty much all we study! But now, that I'm bloggin,g I realize that ,I am wasting you,r time, I am ,,not respecting you,, as a reader, and that I ,am a little more than f,ond of hearing, (or seeing, rather) myself speak in this bloggy blog (those commas call for pauses).
So while yes, I really do think school is wasting my time, por lo general (did I mention I speak Spanish?), many of my theatre professors and peers do know what they are talking about and I should listen. So I apologize for being a diva.
BUT THEN AGAIN, maybe I'm so pissed all the time because things need to change and I need to start a revolution. I would be great at that! I can appeal to the masses with my gender neutral appearance and my rapport with cultural minorities (whatever that means).
Oh. Side note. I got my census packet today, and was very excited about it. Then I filled it out, and got offended. I'm not quite sure why.
Back to my revolution. I will revolt against the establishment, and other very specific things such as that. And then I will get arrested and people will make t-shirts that beg for my liberation, and then the war in Afghanistan and Iraq will end, and the my bf will come home, and then I'll spend all my time with him, then I'll forget about my revolution and my followers will turn against me, and then I will be elected to Congress because that is the next logical step, and then I will get my picture taken with the Pope.
Somewhere in there, I'll probably stop blogging so it's a win for everyone really.
See, if authority spoke as clearly and concisely and deliberately and brilliantly as that above paragraph, I'd listen.
My hypocrisy is upsetting. The picture of the Pope and I will be next to "hypocrisy" in the dictionary.
This post proves why I am not good at Twitter. And it also proves why the plays and/or sitcoms I write will never actually go anywhere and won't contribute anything to society.. like LOST
OH NO SHE DIDN'T!
Fine. I'll allow you to watch Lost, if you promise not to go to the circus. If you want to know more, I'm going to post information about circuses in my next post.
Viva La Hippieocrisy!
-Katie
PS. http://moose-drool.blogspot.com/ -Not your typical soldier.
So here is what I learned today.... I don't like authority. It isn't a surprise.
Oh, by the way, that isn't what the Spanish above says.
Oh, by the way, yes it is.
Got 'em.
Yeah it's obvious that I put on the image that I don't like authority. It's a requirement for having a blog. And, yes, people tell me that I don't listen to authority well, but I don't usually listen to those people because I'm too busy listening to authority, except...wait...no I'm not. I'm NOT busy listening to authority. I'm busy being a self-absorbed prick. Why didn't anyone tell me!??
This is why I don't listen to authority. Because there is no authority in my world. There is me being the boss of me and that's my life.
So, should I change this?
Right now I'm thinking I should. Why? Because I was an ornary biatch today...really everyday. I get SO pissed in classrooms. It's immediate. I walk in and then I become a 21 year old drunk guido and I need to fist pump, then get in a bar fight, and let everyone know that I'm the king of Jersey. In the moment it seems so appropriate. I feel like classes are wasting my time and that teachers don't respect me because I'm a student, and I feel like theatre people are so fond of hearing themselves speak that they find any excuse to ask a long question that incorporates too much pausing. You guys! Pacing! Learn it! It's pretty much all we study! But now, that I'm bloggin,g I realize that ,I am wasting you,r time, I am ,,not respecting you,, as a reader, and that I ,am a little more than f,ond of hearing, (or seeing, rather) myself speak in this bloggy blog (those commas call for pauses).
So while yes, I really do think school is wasting my time, por lo general (did I mention I speak Spanish?), many of my theatre professors and peers do know what they are talking about and I should listen. So I apologize for being a diva.
BUT THEN AGAIN, maybe I'm so pissed all the time because things need to change and I need to start a revolution. I would be great at that! I can appeal to the masses with my gender neutral appearance and my rapport with cultural minorities (whatever that means).
Oh. Side note. I got my census packet today, and was very excited about it. Then I filled it out, and got offended. I'm not quite sure why.
Back to my revolution. I will revolt against the establishment, and other very specific things such as that. And then I will get arrested and people will make t-shirts that beg for my liberation, and then the war in Afghanistan and Iraq will end, and the my bf will come home, and then I'll spend all my time with him, then I'll forget about my revolution and my followers will turn against me, and then I will be elected to Congress because that is the next logical step, and then I will get my picture taken with the Pope.
Somewhere in there, I'll probably stop blogging so it's a win for everyone really.
See, if authority spoke as clearly and concisely and deliberately and brilliantly as that above paragraph, I'd listen.
My hypocrisy is upsetting. The picture of the Pope and I will be next to "hypocrisy" in the dictionary.
This post proves why I am not good at Twitter. And it also proves why the plays and/or sitcoms I write will never actually go anywhere and won't contribute anything to society.. like LOST
OH NO SHE DIDN'T!
Fine. I'll allow you to watch Lost, if you promise not to go to the circus. If you want to know more, I'm going to post information about circuses in my next post.
Viva La Hippieocrisy!
-Katie
PS. http://moose-drool.blogspot.com/ -Not your typical soldier.
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