cowboy boots

Do you ever feel like you are not really present in a situation? At times I will look back at something that I was at, or someone that I was with and wonder if I was really even there. I mentally check out of situations without realizing it.

The little details have always been important to me. The small instances are the ones that I look back on and am thankful for. Lately I have been putting things into perspective more. I haven't had some massive-change-my-life-and-become-a-new-person epiphany, but I have realized that I often romanticize situations.

"...a sense of change about the familiar edifice, such as affects us all, when, after a separation of months or years, we again see some hill or lake, or work of art, with which we were friends, of old. In ordinary cases, this indescribable impression is caused by the comparison and contrast between our imperfect reminiscences and the reality."
-Nathaniel Hawthorne [Wakefield]

In other news Christmas is coming (yeah yeah, stating the obvious I know). I have an obsession with shoes and I have realized I have started to try my hardest to wear a new pair every day for at least, oh, five days. Then I can cycle again. New shoe of desire: cowboy boots.

the world I am in.

I'm reading through all the Narnia books. Instead of doing real school I read these. I read them when I was wee, so everything is fresh to me. they are so curious, and so simple. I usually don't read books out loud, but these I do. Lisa and I read The Magician's Nephew on the long car ride to her house.

"For what you see and hear depends a good deal on where you are standing: it also depends on what sort of person you are"


I have a pretty bad British accent.

ENOUGH

so, for contemporary literature I read "How to be Good" by Nick Hornby, who's one of my faves. I, of course, procrastinated my project and stayed up until the wee hours of the morning working on my presentation and finishing the novel. As I sat cross legged on my unswept, hardwood floor at 2 AM in the morning, vigorously trying to figure out how the heck to make a handout on microsoft word I began to wish I was laying comfortably on my back in a lawn chair on the deck of a cruise ship making its way to the Bahamas. Or in warm bed. But no. My fingers were slaves to typing and my brain a slave to remembering information read.

Hornby writes "How to be Good" from the perspective of an analytical, obsessed-with-her-thoughts, middle aged woman. I love it. It's the way I think. Not thinking in the sense of a middle aged woman (to those middle aged women reading this: I have nothing against your thought processes) but she analyzes how I analyze. I liked this quote:

"The only scenes I can stand in any of the Star Wars films are the quiet scenes in the second one, The Empire Strikes Back...at first I preferred The Empire Strikes Back simply because it offered some respite from all the roaring and banging and whizzing. but later I came to appreciate its.... I don't know what you call it. Message? Moral? ...Something in it began to chime somewhere in me, and I wanted to be Luke Skywalker, off somewhere on my own, learning to be a Jedi, I wanted a break from the war. I wanted someone wise to teach me how to do the things I needed to survive the rest of my life."

All this to say I want to be Luke Skywalker too. No more school. No more staying up late. No more thinking about money. No more making dumb decisions with money. No more pretending I didn't make bad decisions with my money.

I want to be off on my own learning how to brave the world.

Confession #3

I'm a cat person.

Now. I like dogs. They hold a dear place in my heart, and someday I will own a golden retriever.

But cats. I love cats.

For awhile, I was in denial that I was a true cat lover. I grew up with Mittens, and we bonded. We were together when she lost her brother Skittles. She was there when I crashed my bike and came home crying. I even played cards with Mittens. (I had really great creativity as a kid). But THEN, the middle school years came and I fell into the peer pressure of people telling me that "DOGS ARE COOLER." I agree that dogs are cooler in some ways. Such as being able to fetch things and going on walks with you.

But all along I knew that my denial was truly a lie and that in the depths of my heart the felines held my love.

Basically, this is my public confession and restatement of being a cat lover. I promise I won't become like this lady.

Meet Lando! My new kitten..becoming a cat now. (Started out being as boy. then thought to be a girl and pregnant. but soon discovered in an appearance of a little surprise down yonder, that Lando is indeed, a boy).






I'm really not a weird cat freak......................

senior year. you are mine.

+15 years ago, I was convinced I knew what I wanted to do with my life (ice skater. dentist. actress. they all seemed like good options).
+Three months ago I began training for a summer that I was nervous, unsure, and freaked out about.
+Two and a half weeks ago I departed from the 21 people who knew me best this summer. I said goodbye to many of my best friends. I left that day with a new found confidence I did not enter the summer with.
+A week ago I finally moved into a house of my own with katherine harrison and lisa coward.
+This minute, I am not as convinced as I was 15 years ago about what I want to do with my life.
+Tomorrow I begin first day of my senior year of college.

Basically, I don't know what I'm gonna do with my life. But new experiences shape me. New (and old) friends continue to inspire me. And my senior year ain't got nothin' that I can't take on. Even if I don't know what's going to happen after this year.

On a side note, here is a warning to all toaster oven users:
Do not put a piece of bread too big in a small sized oven. It WILL catch on fire. I repeat..it will catch on fire.

Too early

sometimes there are moments in life where a week of my life feels like it lasted months. in approximately an hour and forty minutes my team of twenty two new and old friends are going to depart and officially depart and begin a summer of working camp. it's strange to be in the "camp bubble" all summer and to return to the "real world" after. it kind of freaks me out to think about. but I know the memories and experiences I will gain will be far more rewarding then I can even think right now.

I'm getting better at being more confrontational!

Also, I want to learn to salsa dance.

???????????

When I was watching Oprah the other day (as I have done most every day since I have been home.. what can I say, Oprah knows things) she was talking to Simon Cowell, and they were talking about marriage and such, and how he is getting up in age. And she said something like, "Well that's okay 50 is the new 40 these days."

.......And this is where my question comes in. I don't understand this whole, "old" and "new" thing. For example, the other day I was told that the color coral is the new pink. But when did pink become old? And when pink was new, what color was old? And what if I don't want coral to be the new pink? Do I have any say, or is it a done deal?

Basically, I'm just confused. Is 50 really the new 40? And if so, does every age have a "new" age? I'm 21.. is 21 the new 16? Does that even make sense? Whoever makes these "rules" I want a part in it! I want to make wearing no make-up the new make up face! Unbrushed bed-head to be the new hair-dried straight lucious locks! For lunchtime I want sushi to be the new PB&J! Give me something!

(My apologies for the mass amounts of question marks in this post.)

today is sunday.

I've come to the conclusion today that I'm crazy. "Why are you crazy, Karin?" you may so curiously wonder. Or maybe you already think I'm crazy. Or maybe you think I'm crazy for thinking I'm crazy. Either way, there are lots of crazy people out there. And on the hypothetical crazy scale, I'm not sure where I'd rank, but I'm on there. I think my craziness (I know you are getting sick of that word) is because I'm so blind to things. I don't journal as much as I'd like, but I do occasionaly. Every time I write something new I read over all my old entries. And in every single entry a common theme weaves it's way in and out of them. I have a passion for kids, and helping them to grow in anyway. For music, to be better at the instruments I play. To be better read in the literature I collect on my shelf. And to simply love someone, and desire to be loved.

These passions get lost as I think so much about me. ME ME ME ME ME. And all the faults I see in myself. And that is why I'm kind of crazy. I have all these things I love, but I don't love them they way I want to because I bring myself down. DUMMMBBBBBBBB. I guess God works that way sometimes. Teaches you something over and over and over and over again until you finally open your eyes and see what he's been showing you about yourself.

On a different note, I'm reading The Blue Castle by L.M. Montgomery. This was my absolute favorite book in middle school, and I remember being so surprised by the ending. But I forgot the ending! So I'm reading it again, and seeing if I will love it still. I like when I forget surprise endings. I always wish I'd forget the twist in The Sixth Sense. But I still haven't. Probably because I always think about wanting to forget it so I will be surprised again.

Snapshot.

So, when I said in my last post that I feel invincible when speeding.. I no longer have that feeling as of today.

Dear Chattanooga Speed Camera enforcement,
I appreciate your concern in my driving 45 mph in a 35 mph zone. I find it cool that my buick got two snapshots printed on a piece of paper and sent to my house. Frankly though I don't really like the fact I have to pay for this fifty dollar ticket, and I would rather you not be so sneaky when snapping my photo. Also, next time, pick on someone who is going at a more reckless speed. Thank you.

ten driving thoughts.

Driving back today from Chattanooga to Asheville I realized some things. SUCH AS:

1) Being alone in my thoughts for four hours is kind of nice, and horribly annoying at the same time. Especially when your phone is dying, and you have no ipod because the ipod you have decides to break because all technology you come in contact with seems to want to gang up on you and hate you.

2)I hate Ryan Seacrest.

3) But his top forty countdown I like. Four hours of pop radio music didn't drive me as crazy as it probably should. Hearing "Bulletproof" three times in four hours was a very joyous occasion for me this morning.

4) I eat way too much McDonalds.

5) An iced coffee, AND a double shot starbucks drink did NOT give me the energy I needed. My eyes kept closing!! I'm not sure exactly what I realized from this except maybe to buy some sunglasses????? Because the sun in my eyes makes me sleepy???

6) Honking and holding your breath when going through a tunnel isn't as fun when you are the only one in the car.

7) I feel invincible when I speed.

8) I am impulsive. In way too many areas of my life. THINK THINGS THROUGH KARIN!! COME ON!!!

9) Where is college going? And how am I a senior already?

10) I'd like to attempt at owning fish again. And have one last more then a month. They always die without having lived the full life they deserve. Technology and fish... what is it you have against me?

Confession #2

I like to eat soggy cereal.

Sure, the word soggy is gross. And soggy food is usually gross.

But, for some reason, a bowl of soggy raisin bran is extremely tasty to my buds.

I'm a kid.

I'm holding a melted airhead, half-eaten tootsie roll pop, and a pair of plastic vampire teeth. The sun is beating down on my back as I struggle to find a place for her tiny socks and his small nike tennis shoes. I bite down awkwardly on the carnival tickets. I drop my phone, keys, and the wallet I am also trying to hold as the kids' possesions suddenly take priority over my own belongings. Finding a bag at the nearest booth selling a pile of useless baby toys, I dump everything I am struggling to hold into the it. Mission accomplished. The sun still beats down on my back. Looking after four kids at a elementary school festival brings out the kid in me while at the same time reality beckons me to be a grown up. Hundreds of little people are running around. Spraying each other with silly string that instantly melts in mid squirt from the hot sun, jumping eagerly on the wobbly moonbounce, stuffing their small mouths with gooey donuts and lukewarm pizza. Walking around I make eye-contact with fellow babysitters and parents who wish they had a babysitter in their place. Our eyes all exude the same feeling: desire. Some desire to be done with their shift. Some desire to have a moment away from their whiney child.

I desire to be small again. I want to be five. I want to win a toy gun for putting a golf ball into its hole. I want to climb through the blow up obstacale course. I want to wear my pink overalls and be okay with my messy pigtails. I want to be queen of my fort in the woods. I want to jump on my bike and fly past my neighbor, in sure thought that he is an evil, mean man whose sole purpose in life is to chase after me and steal my sweet barbie accesorized ride. I want to know what it feels like to simply cry over a skinned knee after I clumsily fall off my bike in the middle of my instense getaway---to not know what it feels like to cry about anything more then that. I want to be my parents best friend, I want to tell them everything. I want to build a tent with my brothers in the living room. I want to write stories about animals--to not have to write fifteen page research papers.

I leave the carnival with the four kids I was asked to watch, to protect, for that particular time. This carnival was their time. They thought of nothing else except finding the best toy to win, and eating as much candy as they could. The sun starts to go down. The coolness in the air becomes a newly welcomed friend. Exhausted, I wonder how I will ever be an adult when my mind is begging me to revert back to my five year old self, to forget about what my present "adult life" is forcing into my head. Things were easier at the age of five.

Getting back into the car I begin to drive away, windows down and wind blowing in my hair, listening to four sweaty kids in the back of the car complaining of thirst that one would assume is life threatening by the urgency in their voices. Ignoring them I enjoy the wind in my hair. Suddenly thankful for the age I am. Nostalgia of five year old Karin is swept away with the wind, for now.

Patten, you rascal.

SCENARIO:
Starbucks.
Five year old Patten has to go pee.
He starts to pull down his pants.

Me: Patten are you wearing underwear?

Patten: No.

Ten year old Carter: Patten never wears underwear anymore.

Me:Anymore? Didn't he just learn to wear underwear like a year ago?

Patten tries to go pee in the bush.

Me: Patten, the bathroom is this way.

Leads him to the handicap family restroom stall.

Patten: this isn't a boys stall.

Me: I know. It's a handicap stall.

Patten: What's handicap mean?

Me: Like, hurt.

Patten: I'm not hurt.

Me: I know

Patten: I can't go pee in here.

Me: Yes you can. handicap.. means.. boy too.

Patten: Oh.

He goes in to pee. I laugh outside the door.

Patten: Why are you laughing?

Me: ....There was a funny bug....

Barges out of stall.

Patten: WHERE??????

Me: I killed it.

Patten: WHY?????

Me: Because it was handicap.

Patten: Whats handicap mean?



.:Kids make life interesting:.

Confession #1

I'm offically standing proud and admitting that I. Like. Zac Efron.

This weekend I watched some movies. Hairspray and Seventeen Again were two I watched. Both had Zac Efron in them. He's kind of really attractive to me and I kind of watched both of those because of him. Does this make me as ridiculous as one of the thousands of pre-teen girls obsessed with him? I feel like either I have to be embarassed of my love for Zac (yes, first name basis) or admit it to the world and stand proud.

Alright. I'm standing proud.


I feel like that was the right choice to make.

WEIRD.

I want a sugar bear!

hate.love.love.hate.

I love people, and I love to figure people out.

I hate not being able to figure people out.

I hate being pinched.

I love sushi.

I hate neon green.

I love couragous people.

I love the color yellow recently.

I love to laugh really hard. So hard I pee my pants.

I hate peeing my pants.

(I haven't lately I promise. This is not a confession. Past experience. You know.)

I hate coffee without creamer.

I love George Clooney.

....

Dreamer, what do you see?
Eagles soaring the brilliant blue sky,
As kings of their cloudy castle?

Blue skies will crumble into a darkness,
And hark an eerie greeting
To crawilng creatures who haunt sweet slumbers.

Dreamer, what do you wish?
An agility like the angelic figures in your feeble imagination,
Dancing in perfect step to the musical whispers of the wind?

Thunder will reign over those delicate whispers.
And such heavenly waltzes will be swept away
During the struggle to run free from bellowing crashes.

Dreamer, what do you know?
To soar as an eagle,
To dance as an angel,
Amidst the darkness,
Through the rain.
That such fantasy suspended by reality--
Therein lies the beauty of dreaming.

James 1:2-4.

"Consider it pure joy, my brothers, whenever you face trials of many kinds, because you know that the testing of your faith develops perseverance. Perseverance must finish its work so that you may be mature and complete, not lacking anything"


This verse always speaks volumes to me. I will be stronger through difficult times. I will. I think the problem lately has been I do not want to believe this. So I wallow in my sorrows. There is a time for grief, but I know personally, I must take a bolder step to believe now. As much as I feel it is too hard to trust, the only way to trust, is to take that step.

I'm doing it.

Follow us.

The trailblazers who give their hearts to the wind,
inspire and call out to weary peasents:
"Wake up your static souls, and follow our lead!"
Such passion as theirs crave to rescue caged hearts.

Mystery cup.

A peaceful evening. A deserted coffee shop. I crave company, anyone to whom I may share this coffee shop with. A friend, a stranger, an ex-lover. Simutaneously, I desire to isolate myself from the company I yearn for. Irony runs its way through my veins.

Door opening, a red-haired woman walks in confidently with a pile of books. Picking a table not far from my own, she takes off her sweater, straightens her blue beret, and walks to the counter to order a coffee. Maybe a tea. Hot chocolate even. But I sense that she is a coffee woman. With a mug full of mystery liquid, she returns to her books, inserts headphones in ears hidden behind firey hair. Not once does she look at me, nor does she seem to be aware of my presence at the round table in the corner. Contently, she indulges herself in the little pleasures of music, words, and the drinkable substance before her.

I gaze down to my own book, and take a sip of my luke-warm coffee. Feeling like I made a friend on this quiet evening. Happy for the company. Wondering what she is thinking. Thinking that because I wonder, I'm a freak. Freaking out that I may be losing it. Realizing I haven't even read any words. Words..Sentences..Thoughts.. nothing made sense. I begin to re-read the same paragraph. Mere moments have passed.

A young couple walks in. Silent. But silence alone does not enter with them. A little golden haired girl fills up the coffee shop with her bubbling voice. "I can get anything I want? Mommy what are you getting? Daddy, I can get anything I want!" Excitement fills her adorable body as she twirls around in her pink ballerina skirt, and grabs her mother's hand. The parents converse with her in a most mature way. They do not baby her. Love exudes from each one of them and this simple trip to the coffee shop most obviously makes this small girl's evening. Makes the parents evening. The girl continues to babble in her high voice. They choose a table around the corner from my own. As they pass, the little darling looks at me and waves her tiny little hand in my direction.

A red haired woman. A family of three. My company. I observe, to be thankful. To stretch my mind. To imagine. A fellow loner brings me comfort in knowing I'm not the only one spending the evening with the presense of no other. A vibrant family treating their child to a night out, brings me a feeling of hope for upcoming moments of joy.

Simple pleasures in life. Sometimes they hide in the corner of a coffee shop.

...

my mind
creates.
design
pulls me away.
stifled,
by imaginary walls.
I'm forced,
into anxiety.

open up.

I write words, wondering who will see.
wondering how they will be taken.
wondering how I appear to you. to everyone.

roller skating is mindless. I love it.

I want to be a star. I wanna dream to be something big like when I was little.
In kindergarten, we filled out a booklet about what we wanted to be when we were older. Two of my top choices:
1) A figure skater
2) A dentist

I remember my kindergarten classmate Duncan (who I so cleverly called "Duncan Donut" in the secret of my mind) made fun of me for wanting to be a dentist. Alright, so maybe he was justified in thinking I was retarded about my dream of having a dental career. But still. I remember my mind racing and trying to figure out if he was right, was I stupid for my dream of wanting to clean people's teeth? I hold in my memory so many insecure feelings like I felt that time in kindegarten. Still my thoughts are so effected by what people say. My wishful thoughts constantly partake in a duel with reality.. with my peers opinions.

I feel like I'm gonna burst.

fragments are my friend.

i am thankful for the melody of a piano. i love to hear the keys being graced with willing hands. sometimes timid hands. the notes are a pleasant sound. i am thankful for art. i am thankful to learn about art. i love the broadening of minds. i desire to broaden my own mind. with ideas that brighten my eyes and fill my heart with a passion to live. i am thankful for the Bible. i am encouraged by 2 Corinthians 12:9 "my grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness. Therefore I will boast all the more gladly of my weaknesses, so that the power of Christ may rest upon me." i love a good cry. i am thankful for my mom. when i hug her i feel her warm and gentle spirit radiate into me. she is sensitive to my needs. when young, i would curl my little body into her arms and cry into her shoulder. her sleeve would be wet with my salty tears. she wouldn't care. she'd only hug me tighter. i'm older and i still cry on her shoulder. i love her. i'm thankful for the ability to run. to run when i feel trapped. to run, i feel free. i find peace. i am thankful for imagination. to be creative. to dream. to be creative in the dreaming of my future. i am thankful to have a future. i love to laugh. i am thankful for those who make me laugh. to find humor in a simple noise. i am thankful for good literature. and bad literature. to make me thankful for what is good. and what allows my mind to be opened to new images and ideas. i am thankful for those who inspire me. for those who exhibit passion. their passion brings me joy and a desire to develop my own passions. i love small children's innocence. i love their sometimes not innocence. their simplicity in living. how a child can laugh at most anything. i love a beautiful sunny day. a beautiful sunny day after an elegant winter day. driving with the windows rolled down. coffee being made by my dear roommate in the morning. i am thankful to dance. even if it's as bad as elaine's dancing from seinfeld. i am thankful to be able to be thankful. i have so much.

Falling, snow.

I almost fell down while taking a shower today. I think I have a fear of blacking out from slipping in the shower.

And escalators. I have a fear of falling down backwards while going up one.

Does this mean I have a fear of falling?

my life is average makes me laugh alot. and speaking of falling off walls... and stuff..
"Today I realized that not once in Humpty Dumpty does it mention he's an egg. I'm still wondering who made that conclusion. MLIA."


The snow is beautiful and even though I almost slipped (falling phobia!) walking down the big ol' carter hill, that is okay. Because it's beautiful out.

I've missed you.

Today I am wearing my red shoes.

I have neglected them for almost a year.

I hearby declare an official apology to them for blantantly ignroing their presence in my closet for so very long.

Red shoes, welcome back to your home on my feet.

my life is a racetrack.

Lately I've come to realize that I love the idea of certain things but am not very good about the acutal carrying out of those things. Like, I love THINKING that I am on top of all my schoolwork. I mentally set aside time for the next day to do homework. But somehow I just don't do it. All of a sudden things like cleaning our disgusting mugs and raman bowls takes priority and painting my toenails is a must.
I buy a planner at the begginning of each semester wanting to start the semester off all organized. Of course I begin to think, why the heck do I need this planner? My mind remembers everything. And then everything starts going downhill. Soon I feel like this huge slacker! I mean, here I am sitting on my futon, (listening to the angriest wind outside I've ever heard in my life) watching the Bachelor. I am doing my math homework too. But "Concepts in Mathematics" cannot really qualify as math. My problems incude "Late Bloomers" "Baby Bunnies" and "Rolling Around in Vegas". I'm supposed to figure out how to take my pants off and put them back on inside out? Pleeeeease.

This whole issue of me loving the idea of things gets me into trouble sometime. I act impulsively. I don't really think about the long term effect of my actions. I cannot control situations. I'm stuck thinking I can control my life like I've been controlling Donkey Kong in mario-kart (too... much.... nintendo 64....).

Come on, Karin. you ain't gotsta worry.

time ain't a wastin.

it's never too early in the year to learn something. 2010 learnings thus far:

-hot showers make you itchy. don't take a lot of them. don't do it!

-Chuck E Cheese's raises up future gamblers. my kids will never go. unless they give me their prizes.

-I will never like oatmeal or mushrooms. no matter how many times I try.

-My bunk bed has gotten squeakier since I've been back. I don't know why.

-My resolution to run a half marathon probably isn't going to happen. it's.. the thought that counts?

-Texting while driving is really not worth it.

-Grilled cheese(s?) is the best lunch time meal.

-Dumb and Dumber should be watched at least once every 3 months. never fails.

-To love with a humble heart is hard. but I'm trying. to be better.

want them!

sometimes I am a sucker for cute animal pictures.
I love these guys.

I feel it in my fingers I feel it in my toooooes

I'm thankful for the slippers I just found in my closet even though they are ugly. Ugly things are still warm!

I'm happy to be sucked into the lives of Ross, Chandler, Joey, Rachel, Monica and Phoebe. My life is becoming more complete.

Even decaf coffee is enjoyable to me tonight. I always get kind of mad about it because I don't see the point. But tonight I wanted coffee. And tonight I did not want to be awake til 4 in the morning. No sir. Decaf coffee, tonight you are pleasing to me.

But theres is NOTHING that makes me thankful for 15 degree weather. DEAR COLD FRONT: leave Asheville. Don't be in Chattanooga when I get there. And please stop making my feet cold because I can't wear these ugly slippers for much longer.