Never was a fan of Journey until today. I am the “Just a small town girl, living in a lonely world.” I moved to San Francisco last week, didn’t know anyone, didn’t know anything about my roommate except her name, didn’t know how I would get from the airport to my apartment, and didn’t know what I needed to do first. I did know that I was going to art school.
Now I’ve got Journey playing in my ear, I’ve found a grocery store, listen to books on my iPod when I walk around town, know how to get to my classes, to Walgreens (5 of them now), and where to buy household items. It’s only been a week but I’m starting to feel like this is home; I’m not just on vacation.
I still have to use Google maps to get around town some but now I don’t have to look too long to know where I’m headed. I’ve also found my beloved gym. I’m a manic-depressive; I’m a manic when I get to run everyday and become depressive when I go more then 3 day with out it. I have also found more then 10 sushi restaurants in a 5 square block radius from here. Off I go for sushi!
Sunday, September 6, 2009
Tuesday, July 21, 2009
Mapping Project
When I was an IT major we would make the flow charts to help us see how our databases should be connected. In my advertising department in my undergrad we would use flow charts to brainstorm. Flow charts have become something that I use regularly when trying to create something new, trying to remember the past, or trying to decide my future.
I used colored markers and wrote it by hand because I still feel like a little kid. I can’t seem to believe that I’m 27. In an age where “40 is the new 30” it is easy for me to stay childlike.
Green is education stuff. The one spot of red represents two very important bosses who have changed my life, both named Dick, and I worked for them at the same time. Blue is important events of my life.
The pink and purple are my “past” and “present/future” respectively. Pink is things that I associate with my undergrad and purple I have tied to my legal name change, my middle name changed to Katharine. My friends have always called me Kat and I decided to make it more official. I waited until after graduation with my BS because like a graduation ceremony changing my middle name was a ceremonial right of passage for me.
Wednesday, July 8, 2009
Thursday, July 2, 2009
Thursday, June 18, 2009
Wednesday, April 29, 2009
Monday, April 27, 2009
Memories in a Box
Open the shoebox in the closet and let the time travel begin. The past has just come to you. All those things you kept over the years, can’t bear to part with, even when you have no reason to keep it. A brown fuzzy button, a drawing in the local newspaper, a green card, a letter, my life. One little seemingly unimportant thing holds so much.
The brown fuzzy button is from an old school, full size van. My high school boyfriend’s ride. Believe me or not, his name was Duck. We used the same box hair color, we’re anti social, and liked to fight authority. He got rid of that van, got a sports care, rolled it, killed a girl, went to jail, then “we” ended. Broke my heart, why was she in the car, why did the newspaper call her his girlfriend, why do I keep the button. The button is neutral, but the memories are not. Take the good with the bad.
The drawing in the paper is of a girl watching Bevis and Butthead on TV, while passing out, while falling backwards, being caught by hooded death. Kick ass drawing for a 5th grader. I drew it. I read Animal Farm that summer, meet this boy Marker, which lead to a strange friendship that I still have today. Marker was a great guy who had so much going for him. He is a genius. A genius that plays acid driven jam music, his band is underground famous, and was busted for growing pot. Yet in our summer class for smart kids we were reading heavy, dreaming big, and had our whole lives in front of us. I ended up dropping out of high school, going to college a year early and taking 10 years to graduate. He went to college, found drugs, went to Mardi Gras, didn’t come home for 2 weeks, parents called him in as a missing person. I said he probably got high on drugs and ended up in Mexico with no cell service. Yep. He came back from Mexico never to be the person he was before. I still love him.
I am an American citizen, born and raised. I have a green card. From Ireland. I lived there for 6 months while I went to school. It rains, sideways, while the sun is shining, and it’s 50 degrees, always. When it rains there are will be at least one umbrellas in any trashcan you see. I learned after my first umbrella that not having one is cheaper.
A letter I received in elementary school from Erin Grimes. Not a clue what happened to her in life but she was my friend back then. The address on the front was upside down. Inside was a drawing of two horses. She could name any bread of horse and I could name any bread of cat. I can still remember the basement where we would have sleep over parties.
Here is a shoebox filled with my life. Moments and memories that I can only remember when I see the little pieces that were left behind. How much more have I forgotten because there is nothing to remind me of it? I don’t keep journals, I throw away photos of times and people that I don’t care about anymore; I even clean out those boxes every once in a while. Sometime it is to forget them memories and sometimes things get tossed because on that day I just didn’t care anymore.
The brown fuzzy button is from an old school, full size van. My high school boyfriend’s ride. Believe me or not, his name was Duck. We used the same box hair color, we’re anti social, and liked to fight authority. He got rid of that van, got a sports care, rolled it, killed a girl, went to jail, then “we” ended. Broke my heart, why was she in the car, why did the newspaper call her his girlfriend, why do I keep the button. The button is neutral, but the memories are not. Take the good with the bad.
The drawing in the paper is of a girl watching Bevis and Butthead on TV, while passing out, while falling backwards, being caught by hooded death. Kick ass drawing for a 5th grader. I drew it. I read Animal Farm that summer, meet this boy Marker, which lead to a strange friendship that I still have today. Marker was a great guy who had so much going for him. He is a genius. A genius that plays acid driven jam music, his band is underground famous, and was busted for growing pot. Yet in our summer class for smart kids we were reading heavy, dreaming big, and had our whole lives in front of us. I ended up dropping out of high school, going to college a year early and taking 10 years to graduate. He went to college, found drugs, went to Mardi Gras, didn’t come home for 2 weeks, parents called him in as a missing person. I said he probably got high on drugs and ended up in Mexico with no cell service. Yep. He came back from Mexico never to be the person he was before. I still love him.
I am an American citizen, born and raised. I have a green card. From Ireland. I lived there for 6 months while I went to school. It rains, sideways, while the sun is shining, and it’s 50 degrees, always. When it rains there are will be at least one umbrellas in any trashcan you see. I learned after my first umbrella that not having one is cheaper.
A letter I received in elementary school from Erin Grimes. Not a clue what happened to her in life but she was my friend back then. The address on the front was upside down. Inside was a drawing of two horses. She could name any bread of horse and I could name any bread of cat. I can still remember the basement where we would have sleep over parties.
Here is a shoebox filled with my life. Moments and memories that I can only remember when I see the little pieces that were left behind. How much more have I forgotten because there is nothing to remind me of it? I don’t keep journals, I throw away photos of times and people that I don’t care about anymore; I even clean out those boxes every once in a while. Sometime it is to forget them memories and sometimes things get tossed because on that day I just didn’t care anymore.
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